Writer: Orlen
Date Wed Sep 2 17:30:46 2020
To All Abaddon Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Catroina Calvissus ( Imm Fatale Cayenna Scorn )
Subject Lost City - Endings (1/2)
Rushing to the base of the large tower, Orlen could feel the thudding
pain to his right intensify. His rib was broken, and something was not
right with his back. He pressed on, when a large explosion to his left made
him stop.
Calvissus' gun. The one he saved tucked away, the one with just one bullet
that is to be used only when All hell breaks loose. Orlen stopped. He
Heard more struggling not too far away. A quick glance up assured him no
dragons are about to dive on his position and he rushed towards the source
of the noise.
When he found Calvissus, he also found Catroina. Like a shadow
materializing, she stood by his side and scanned him over. Orlen waved her
off, knowing what she would say. He leaned down, exhaling through gritted
teeth as he rolled the decayed yinn from Calvissus limp body.
'I did not save you from hell itself to die here, Maelstorm. ' The
Inquisitor commanded, as if this alone will make the unconscious pirate
wake.
'I think he needs a bit more help than that, Orlen... ' Catroina said,
always to his right. He frowned in annoyance, pulling out a red glass
container. He looked Calvissus over. That head wound was nasty, but for a
man that has been wreathed in hellfire before as Calvissus did, this will be
a passing scar. Orlen lifted the Pirate's head gently, as a father would to
his son, and applied some salve from the container. The wound stopped
bleeding.
'And now, for my best trick... ' Orlen sent a hand to Calvissus' pockets,
knowing exactly where the Maelstrom hid his flask. He poured some on his
face, grinning.
With a gasp, Calvissus woke, 'Go t' hell, yu donkae lov' makin' basta'...
'. Orlen helped Calvissus up, wincing himself, 'Yes yes, I missed you too.
Can you walk properly? '
The Maelstrom nodded and leaned on Orlen as they moved towards the Tower.
Catroina walked behind the pair, her worried eyes on the pair of injured men
ahead of her.
Writer: Orlen
Date Wed Sep 2 17:35:06 2020
To All Abaddon Shadow Verminasia Eclipse Catroina Calvissus ( Imm Fatale Cayenna Scorn )
Subject Lost City - Endings (2/2)
'But ah'll miss All th' fun! '
Orlen nodded at Calvissus, 'Shouldn't have went alone and jump into a pack
of undead yinn, now should you? ' He grinned and patted the Pirate's
shoulder. 'Keep that door closed, and give us time. We will meet after, or
in Fatale's embrace. '
Catroina tilted her head at Orlen, 'You are not well, Orlen. I can end this
on my own. '
Orlen turned his gray gaze at the Executioner, 'No. You can not. We do not
know what we face up there. ' He began ascending the stairs to the top of
the Keep. Every breath he took was a struggle, but it will be over soon.
He will endure this. As he did before.
Catroina was behind him. He felt her, smelled her, but could not see or
hear her. She was a fighting force he has not seen before, an unleashed
torrent of darkness, ferocity and intensity. Her kills were exquisite, and
she was adept at stealth unlike any he has seen in the past.
Calvissus was a force of his own right, his contreptions and exotic methods
made him dangerous and unpredictable, but his loyalty was unwavering. He
was proud of them for making it this far, proud of them for being a part of
a greater goal, a greater Darkness.
He pushed open a trap door and ascended the last few steps. The cold wind
hit him as he did, and he raised a hand to protect his eyes. Noticing
movement, he dived into a shadow and watched.
In a triangle, three large figures stood. Yinn. Each of them holding a
staff, and standing inside a dark red circle. In the middle of the circle,
a pile of corpses, almost a dozen of them, was resting. As the figures
tapped their staffs once, then twice, the pile shook.
Slowly, the corpses began to rise. One after another, falling into a loose
formation and waiting until the last corpse rose from what should have been
its eternal rest. Then the most impressive thing happened. The corpses
dove head first from the tower, landed on the floor almost twenty feet down
and resumed their march towards the frontlines.
Orlen frowned, 'Time to end this, Cat. '
He snuck around one Necromancer, but as he began moving out of cover,
without a sound being made, the Necromancer turned. He cackled something at
Orlen which the assassin did not understand, but it bought him the time he
needed. Rushing fast, the Inquisitor closed the distance, avoiding a swipe
that the yinn aimed at his face as he slid on his knees, cutting the
Necromancer clean in half, but already the regeneration had begun. Orlen
immediately leaned down to try and find the Charm that revived the
Necromancer.
It was not there. The yinn stood up again, cackling.
'Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting. '
Writer: Lunetta
Date Wed Sep 2 23:57:00 2020
To All Eclipse Maccus ( Storyline Imm )
Subject Lost City, Dogs of War - Part I
The tall figure garbed in midnight blue and the charcoal hues of hazy summer
nights paced slowly down the line of dogs and men. True to his word, Riordan
Atennim had provided a small squadron of men and the necessary funds to have
customized sledding and harnesses fashioned within the day.
Eyes hidden beneath the shadows of an angled hood glittered in the light of
sunset as the great sphere descended beneath the crashing shoreline of the
Arsataw Yaaw. The orbs drank in the panting dogs, each one clad in hardened
plate of boiled leather that was segmented to keep their motions fluid and
unhindered; the men wearing similar armors beneath cloaks of black fur, and
the weapons sheathed within reach; and the sleds themselves - each frame of
ironwood had been reinforced with mithril at the joints and silksteel ropes
dyed sable tightly bound heavy piles of cargo in place. Crates and barrels,
sacks and chests, each one carefully filled to the brim with the supplies to
be carried to the front were covered by weatherized sealskins to protect
their contents.
The part that was of most use were the runes carved along the runners of the
sleds. The intricate combination of arcane script created two results. One,
the runners of the sleds floated a couple inches above the ground, which was
going to lessen the burdern on the dogs, massive as they were, and help to
prevent snags and overturns; two, a distortion to the air shimmered around
each team of dog and soldier - they would yet be visible, but they would all
waver like a mirage, making it much more difficult to land accurate strikes.
Sergeant Harras, the man that was in charge of the unit, approached the
stalking figure once it came to a still next to a particularly large dog, a
storm blue collar hanging from the female's throat. While the figure bent
down to stroke the blunted muzzle affectionately, the Sergeant began going
over a checklist of the supplies aloud. When the list item was recited the
shadowed being ruffled between the large dog's ears and then pulled the helm
of leather into proper place and secured the straps.
"Thank you, Sergeant. You are still comfortable riding follow up?" asked a
low, feminine voice from behind a facemask that somehow did not completely
muffle and distort the words. The austere man nodded curtly.
"We live and die to serve," he responded.
"I will hold you to that," was the chuckle-laden retort. The Sergeant was
more prone to frowning and that did not change as another brisk nod came
by way of answer. "Alright, mount up. We leave when the last ray vanishes."
Writer: Lunetta
Date Wed Sep 2 23:58:34 2020
To All Eclipse Maccus ( Storyline Imm )
Subject Lost City, Dogs of War - Part II
The Black Moon shone overhead as twenty sleds, each drawn by four burly
beasts that panted and puffed chilled, frosty breath into the night, made
silent, swift progress over the land. With their runners floating above the
ground there was only the quiet panting and footfalls, the faint jingle of
four score harnesses, and the other sounds of night dwelling creatures to
pervert otherwise perfect stillness.
A journey of nearly ninety miles was going to take the dogs roughly eleven
hours to complete as they traveled a little slower than other breeds that
had been bred for the sole purpose of running. The bear-like brutes ahead
of each sled were meant more for war, but the sheer bulk of them would be
an advantage after they reached Eastdrift and made the final push to drop
the supplies. They would only make one stop in the middle of the night to
rest the dogs and have a light meal and alleviate themselves. No campfire,
no sleeping until the small fort surrounded them.
Miles vanished behind the group while darkness yawned ahead. Lunetta drew
her cloak a little tighter about her body and whispered the words to draw
upon the arcana, her eyes tingling with the enchantment that enhanced her
field of vision. Infravision informed her of distant wildlife while power
to pierce through veils of invisibility hinted at wraithish figures that
lingered close by now and then, keeping their distance from the passing
troupe.
A howl filled the air within moments after the entourage cleared the line
of evergreens and entered a long, wide stretch of open ground covered in
patches of slick ice and loose snow. The howl was answered by a second, a
third, and then countless cries filled the air, distorting the noises. In
a testament to the training of the dogs, a shouted command drew them to
run in an arrowhead formation.
"Bows out!" Lu called and the two sleds beside her and the four at the
ends of the line prepared their weapons. Carefully shielded lanterns that
hung from the handles of sleds were uncapped and the first arrows were
knocked, but not yet lighted. Peering into the darkness, the Ninja's well
adjusted eyes picked out the glowing forms of half a dozen bipedal and
quickly approaching creatures.
With another round of howls that set teeth on edge and some of the dogs
to growling, the yeti burst from the trees in an explosion of intended
violence, barreling across the open tundra at a speed that would quickly
overcome the laboring canines.
"Ready arrows!"
Writer: Lunetta
Date Wed Sep 2 23:59:37 2020
To All Eclipse Maccus ( Storyline Imm )
Subject Lost City, Dogs of War - Part III
The first yeti to recieve a flaming arrow to the face screamed in such rage
and pain that a couple of the dogs were tempted to whip about and finish the
creature off. A harsh command from the sledder put them back on track.
The field of snow under moonlight soon became drenched in dancing orange
light as yeti swatted away flaming arrows, or were caught aflame. Not wise
enough, initially, to douse themselves in the snow, the creatures soon began
countering the barrage of pyromantic projectiles with fistfuls of snow and
even ripped off limbs of their fallen brethren.
"Swords at the ready!" Lu shouted as the first yeti managed to get past the
defenses of fire, snarling madly with a heavily burned shoulder. With a hard
lunge the yeti leaped forward, only to have its wrist snatched by a blunted
muzzle and its hand nearly ripped off by powerful jowls. As the yeti ceased
moving to scream in pain the sled continued forward and a moment later the
soldier - brandishing a flaming longsword - saw to the creature's fiery
decapitation, the ground quickly pooling with crimson even as it was left
behind.
The cries of the furred tundra beasts summoned more of their kindred from
the distance. Soon, the open expanse with awash with the snarls of creatures,
the grunts of men, the clanging of weapons against bone or claws against
armor. Fires burned in the growing distance as yeti fell one after the other
to the weapons of the highly trained soldiers, or got too close to the dogs
all too eager to tear vicious chunks from the flesh and fur of the would-be
assailants.
As the clearing was passed and the forest began again, sight lines became
obscured and ambushes began to become troublesome. The dogs continued on,
biting and snapping, even barreling straight over one yeti that dropped much
too soon from one of the trees. Two sleds were halted as a beast managed to
catch one of the dogs, ripping at the boiled leather armor, but being just
as mauled in return. With the yeti dispatched the dog's harness was severed
and the other three dogs ordered to mush again.
"Keep your pairings! Do not stop if you can avoid it!" Sergeant Harras'
sharp baritone rang through the clamor. Another whine indicated that at
least one more of the dogs had succumbed somewhere, but the men continued
to push the canines onward, driving deeper into the evergreens. Slowly and
surely the yetis were dispatched, or fell behind to feast on the fallen
dogs. Minutes became quarters and then halves. A little over an hour after
the last yeti had been spotted Lunetta called for a regroup and halt.
Writer: Lunetta
Date Thu Sep 3 00:00:34 2020
To All Eclipse Maccus ( Storyline Imm )
Subject Lost City, Dogs of War - Part IV
A total of three dogs and one man had been taken by the yeti. Several of
the sleds had been damaged, but only one in such a way that a back runner
dragged upon the ground. After a brief discussion with the Sergeant there
was a short bustling of labor to divide its contents to the other sleds. The
three empty slots were filled in and the extra dog placed with Lu's sled to
heed her commands and help with point.
One hour was granted to All after the fight. Dogs were given water and a
bit of food while being checked for injuries, but they remained on their
leads in case of a need to move suddenly. Men alleviated themselves in turn
while others drank and ate. The shadowy figure of the young Stormbound sat
next to her personal dog, a female named Storm that she claimed was the
first of the brood and mother to a handful of the 'pups', though picking
one massive canine from the rest was difficult, especially with the armor
in place.
When she finished, the Sergeant settled down for his turn, eating in stoic
silence. The hours passed in peace, which Lu was grateful for. The time to
move on came quickly enough and so the journey resumed.
The rest of the night was spent in silence as the miles were consumed by
the steady pace of the dogs, men and woman keeping alert to any signs of
threat or danger. Nights in the far reaches of Icewall were especially
long, but seeing the Eastdrift camp appear on the horizon as the team
crested a rise was a welcome relief to the long night behind them. Once at
camp they could get deliver some of the supplies, regroup, and rest while
they waited for nightfall.
Roughly one hour behind schedule, but still well within the planned limits,
the nineteen sleds lined up neatly one by one. Men dismounted, rubbing at
stiff knees and stretching backs unused to the odd posture demanded by the
sleds. The dogs were unhooked and their armor removed, the animals tended
to properly first. Supplies were off loaded, barely a third of what would
still need to be carried forward, but it made thing easier still. Once the
sun was fully and completely above the skyline the group of soldiers all
settled into their bedrolls to rest amongst the dogs, the air thick with
icy breath.
The tough part was next and it was uncertain how many would return.
Writer: Shaunna
Date Sun Sep 13 10:54:26 2020
To Nordmaar All Imm ( Religion RP Cliath )
Subject Lost City - Nordmaar - The Ghuls Come
"Ded Yinnae! Ded Yinnae! " a young Nordmaarian lad in McLeod tartan
yells as he runs towards the enormous city gates with the large blue and
white flag flapping against the wind.
At first, the gate guards thought the boy was screaming as part of some
child's game until they noticed his look of terror as he nearly plowed
himself into one of them. Between gasps for breath, the lad relayed what he
saw: ghuls in the farm fields close to Nordmaar.
Warning alarms rang from the gatehouse, and then other stations throughout
the city began to echo the call of alarm.
The captain of the watch arrived at the gates demanding answers for the
alarm calls. Nervously but with professionalism, the guards summed the
events relayed about the ghuls sighting. With the decisiveness from years
of military training, the captain called for the closest lieutenant to
muster their platoon and eradicated the danger.
The lieutenant ordered each of the four pages nearby to seak out a squad
sergeant and to deliver hastily written orders. The lieutenant wanted to
gather the soldiers and eradicated these walking, dead yinnae before any kin
died at these monstrous hands.
Soon, the bravest of Nordmaar will be sinking their blades into the rotting
flesh of these abominations.
Writer: Maccus
Date Sun Sep 13 21:00:02 2020
To Verminasia Shadow Eclipse All RP Imm
Subject Lost City - Labored Life Pt. 1
The dust had slowly settled about the war-torn man. He could already
feel the soreness in which his flailing had caused. Gashes along his
forehead and neck caused him to wince even as he began to move. The sounds
of screams of his soldiers behind the rubble causing him to whisper, 'Just
go.. Leave.. Get safe'
Even saying those things to himself caused him to wince and grimace in pain.
His hands fidgeted, doing his best even to get them to move. His breath is
now coming in slow, labored pants as his hands and arms move upwards to lay
flat into the ground, and the laborious task of pushing himself upright
began.
His eyes faded in and out as he breathed. His left hand searched for his
shield with soft whines of pain before finally finding the massive hunk of
metal, hoisting it up and pressing it to cover his chest and body. His eyes
closed shut with that final exertion, his breathing slowly as the pain
claims him once more.
Writer: Kaerick
Date Mon Sep 14 13:32:49 2020
To All Verminasia Shadow ( Telthian Religion Dragoth IMM Cayenna )
Subject Lost City - Plagueborn II
Kaerick was cold, colder than he had ever been. He stood upon the outer
rim of the valley looking out over the desolation that was Dae'tok. To the
northeast, the Keep housing the joint forces of Darkness stood. He could
make out the comings and goings of soldiers and mounts through the
drawbridge. His companion had been dismissed as something had bothered him
when he came upon the ridge.
A humming... No not humming... A buzzing? Something played upon his
senses, he was unsure if it was within his mind or in the spiritual realm.
It was though hundreds of voices were All whispering at once, he could make
nothing out from the sounds. Just a dull buzzing echoing in his mind. It
perturbed him to no end which is why he wanted to spend some time digesting
it. However he had spent too much time in the snow and required warmth.
He kicked Bane in the sides and galloped off to the keep, perhaps more
answers lay within.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
'M'lord Templar Ravenhold, we are glad to have you with us but I am a bit
confused. The Prophet had mentioned she was sending something to you? I
thought your plans had been cancelled? ' remarked the priest of the small
temple within the keep.
'Deacon Artremark, I received the notice from the Prophet and agree there
was some mistake in my orders but no matter. I will need to take care of
things here, setup my bunk, and then transport myself home to receive the
Prophet's work. For right now, I need you to bring me to the prison. I
assume such resides within the Keep? ' asked Kaerick
'Of course, there is a jailer here for the rabble who get too drunk of the
occasional deserter. I can bring you down to him. But for what purpose?
Do you know someone down there? ' asked the Deacon.
'Oh, I just need some space for something. Your help is greatly
appreciated. '
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The garrison prison had been cleared out half way. Those who couldn't bunk
with another had been removed permanently. Others awaited a trial but for
now, Kaerick had what he needed. Of the three cells he had taken over,
laborers were adding three tables per cell. In the corridor, his
possessions were moved and locked safely. A cot was brought down as well as
bedding. A new door was being installed with an arcanium frame to seal off
this area from the rest of the prison cells. All in all, the preparations
were coming along well.
'Sir, are you sure you want arcanium chains for each table? Simple iron or
mithril at the most will restrain even an ogre. I don't believe we have
anything in our forces that would require arcanium bands sir. ' questions
the forgemaster.
'Not yet, Sir Gillium, not yet. ' and with that Kaerick took out a flaming
stone and drew upon the magic latent within it. He concentrated and a
swirling portal opened taking him directly to the Verminasian Stronghold.
Kaerick walked through to meet with the Prophet's 'gifts'.
Writer: Maccus
Date Mon Sep 14 19:07:31 2020
To Verminasia Eclipe Shadow All Imm RP
Subject Lost City - Labored Life Pt. 2
His eyes ripped open at the sound of rumbling around him. The stones
behind him were slowly shifting around him as a loud series of bangs from
somewhere more profound in the cavern. Still nowhere near even partially
recovered, his body forced itself forward, lunging with his shield first to
a pile of corpses before him, doing his All to get away from the several
larger rocks that would have crushed him otherwise.
His eyes would close tightly again as his labored breathing caused another
moan of pain to escape him. As the profane string of curses left his lips,
his mind suddenly turned to a little, and him funny thought that caused him
to curse again as the pain ripped through his midsection and throat.
He rolled onto his back finally, the shield in his hand remaining flat. 'At
least my hands aren't shaking. ' He stated matter of factly to himself.
With a loud grunt, he forced himself upright, using his free hand to search
for his canteen only to realize and find that there was a hole within its
side. 'That expalins the wet' he murmured to himself as he would then turn
to look at the pile of bodies.
What color he could make out was that of red and black blood. 'They won't
be needing this anymore' As he began to search, he could feel the pressure
building in his head, his throatthe need to endlessly scream before finally,
he caved to the heaviness of his eyes once more.
Writer: Telthian
Date Wed Sep 14 08:40:13 2020
To All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
Subject Lost City - One Who Follows the Heart - I
"{You still foolishly consider yourself an entity separate from the whole. I know better. And I. Will. Show you."
--*--
The narrow confines gave way to a yawning vista where remnants of a Lost City lay sprawled before them, stripping away any fleeting visual impression that this place was of Algoron itself.
A single narrow causeway led from their position to the city ahead, as did countless others throughout the cavernous hollow in some purposeful display of symmetry. On some of them were great globes of luminous crystal serving as lamps, yet others were dotted with inexplicable columns of vitreous stone. It was as if desperate efforts had been made to place fragmentary elements of the past, of what Dae'Tok was before its doom, in a chronological and spatial pattern with the present. The initial glimpses were at first merely strange. The enormous, vaulted chamber swept impossibly high, lofty stone groinings lost in the darkness overhead.
Below them, the dark granite masonry of the City was of a monstrous megalithic type, the lines of convex-topped blocks fitting into concave bottomed courses which rested atop them. There were almost endless leagues of giant buildings, each in its garden and ranged along paved roads. Roofs were flat and garden-covered, tending to have minor parapets. They differed vastly from one another, disjointed in appearance and size ranging from mundane to those that appeared limitless, shooting up to mountainous altitudes and disappearing in the darkness overhead.
The causeway stretched toward a central cyclopean structure: the Silver Manse, the seat of imperial power, where a malignant red aurora trailed outward. An odd sensation settled upon the onlookers of an external, artificial restraint upon their minds. The City before them both was Dae'tok and it was not.
As the path stretched toward the Manse, firm aspects of the old city that once was gave way to passage through black vaults and hints of mocking curvilinear hieroglyphs that would tear at their souls were the mortals not guarded by merciful ignorance. The terraced gardens at first seemed benign, in their own unsettling out-of-place way. But as the causeway stretched toward the Manse, bizarre and unfamiliar forms of vegetation spilled over broad paths lined with irregular monolith. Abnormally large, fern-like growths predominated, some green, most decidedly not. What flowers grew were colorless things unrecognizable.
The Lost City was a creation of imperfect memory, reshaped by the nightmare. The retinue shared uncertain glances, the only sounds surrounding them coming from the clatter of their own armor. The great road below held no hints of motion. Gritting his teeth, Telthian's mind placed this fragmentary glimpse beside the memory where it belonged.
The dark swelled around them, expanding and then contracting only to begin the cycle again. Noting their expressions matched his own revelation, Telthian drew both Symantha and the demon-in-mortal confinement aside. Behind them, the Shadowguard and Magisters made preparations to descend the causeway.
"{We will settle why we share a memory of this place later," the last Dark Lord of Storm Keep remarked, finally breaking the silence. "We are expected and I do not think we will face resistance until we reach our objective at the manse. Fiend at the front, Lord Templar with the Ark, I will guard our backs."
Writer: Telthian
Date Wed Sep 14 08:40:13 2020
To All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
Subject Lost City - One Who Follows the Heart - II
"{They were right in their envy of you, though wrong in their reasoning. I do find amusement in Storm following their bleeding heart still.''
Each step down the long causeway unsettled the ancient earth as the small band made its way down through the blackened arcades, the road winding through the nightmare city with a serpent-like suggestion. The cracked and irregular stone road stretched on and on before them, the space dilating some moments before contracting back on itself again, making it impossible to judge the distance ahead. Opulent and imperial, only the Manse remained fixed upon the black horizon.
'{uYou have suffered long and hard to be who you are, what is a little more blood lost?{x'
Wisps of darkness poured off the darksteel Ark as they made their way forward, the air thick with power and the sickness underlying it all. The small ceremonial kris pierced the skin easily and with a word of power rich, arterial blood flowed in a thin river to fuel a mote of hellfire burning in the Dark Lord's palm. Holding it aloft, their descent traced a warm line of still-beating hearts through the sea of madness and promises lost.
The malice surrounding them pressed inward and his will, channeled through the steady drip of sanguine vitality consumed in fire safeguarded the others, swallowing pain and fear. With each step he strode, rose the twisted cries of comrades lost. Weathered and broken bones piled high in long-forgotten and lonely cairns, monuments to his failure.
Ravenous clutching shadows picked away at their band one at a time. One of the Shadowguard was first claimed by the madness, his end merciful at the end of gravity's decline. Not even the Magisters, capable of traversing the labyrinthine corridors of the Umbra, could keep the voices out.
'You imagine death so often now that it must feel more like a memory.'
Whispering shadows found their way between the gaps in their protection, turning hearts of stalwart men who had seen the worst on Algoron into fragile things of glass. Like the eye of a storm, the black power of the abyss swarmed around them.
Writer: Shaunna
Date Mon Sep 14 21:26:57 2020
To Nordmaar All ( Imm RP Religion )
Subject Lost City - Nordmaar - The Ghuls Come, 2
The Queen and King of Nordmaar were attending to general kingdom affairs
in the throne room when they heard the alarm calls strike up throughout the
kingdom. Both instinctively looked towards the other to confirm that the
other was not the cause of the alarm. At times, the couple's bond was so
deep that they said the words the other was thinking. The King spoke first
to one of the Black Claymore members inquiring the nature of the alert.
As quick as the squire the Black Claymore sent, the young lass returned with
the dire news: ghuls in the farmlands to the northwest of Nordmaar. These
ghuls were once of the yinn race. To the Queen, it was bad enough that they
were yinn bodies, but the insult is that they are also dead and walking.
Queen Shaunna's face grew pale, and she let her hand slip as she reached for
the edge of the throne. Fionnha, her youngest child, was in that area on a
goodwill visit to the region. She looked over to her husband and King for
the support that one glance from him gives her, but she could see the
concern he had hidden behind his eyes.
That was when her feet moved before her brain had time to react. She
grabbed her staff, started down the throne steps, and was halfway out the
Throne Room before Nehtur grabbed her and held her. She struggled against
Nehtur with the vigor of any Highlander. She could only think about her
"baby" unprotected, without her parents, and how dare anyone try to keep a
Highlander mother away from her child.
"Whot tha blooae 'ell! Pu' mae downe. Er chiold bae ou' thar! Shae bae
naed'n us nowe. Le' mae goe thios instan'! "
No matter how much she struggled, Nehtur's strong arms stayed around her,
and he kept whispering to her much like an animal tamer speaks to a trapped
beast. With a huge breath in, she exhaled the air slowly as she stopped her
struggles. When she looked up at Nehtur, she gasped, then started to laugh
a bit, and quickly followed by profound apologies to her husband interlaced
with comments about deserving the bloody nose.
"Aye, " she sighed. "Ah bae naed'n ta pu' tha kiongdom fiors' aevun 'fore
mae un familae. Wae bae saerv'n er kin nd tha' bae wot Fi bae du'n tu. "
She gives Nehtur a slight smile as she regains her more regal composure.
The rest of the daylight and most of the evening, Shaunna and Nehtur met
with the advisors. These Ghul traveled from the Dae'tok area, but the
questions "How did they slip through the several lines defense?" And "What
path did they take to enter the kingdom?" Remain unanswered to Shaunna's
satisfaction.
That night as she curled herself in Nehtur's arms, she barely slept, and
when she did, it was full fitful dreams about the worst for Fionnha.
Writer: Nehtur
Date Tue Sep 15 19:15:49 2020
To All Nordmaar ( Imm Necrucifer religion RP )
Subject Lost City - Nordmaar - Day after
The day Nehtur feared since he returned to the Highlands from Storm Keep
finally came, his people were under attack. The Nordmaarian people were
accustomed to yinn raiding their farms and were well prepared for such
events, this enemy however was something different entirely, an undead yinn
known as the Ghul had made their way from Daetok into Nordmaars lands.
Nehtur had seen these creatures before and they nearly killed him and some
of his comrades the first time Shadow made their way to the lost city and
even in recent days he believed the threat was contained from All the
scouting reports he had received from the group of rangers he sent to watch
over Shadow as they tried to complete their mission.
The night was a restless one as Nehtur tried to remain calm for his wife,
children, and their citizens, however from the second, he heard of the
threat Nehturs mind begun to race trying to decide ways to keep his Citizen
safe. The morning would bring more meetings with the heads of the military
and the Viking clans, Shaunna and Nehtur were already sitting in the Throne
room as the delegations arrived.
Rising from his seat Nehtur begun speaking, the tone and pitch of his voice
brought a silence to the chatter among those gathered.
As you have All heard our home was attacked by Ghuls, so forgive me for
bypassing the normal customs these meetings have. I have faced these
creatures before and I promise you they are not like any yinn we have fought
before. They are faster, stronger and seem to appear from the shadows.
Looking over to his wife Nehtur continued. "Our actions in the coming days
will determine how we survive moving forward. We have always tried to keep
all of you safe, now All of us must do what we can to protect our Home. "
Sitting back down Nehtur opened the floor to the Generals and Admirals as
they began to lay out what they believed would be the best way to push this
foe back towards Daetok and out of their lands. The meetings and plans went
on through the day as the soldiers throughout the Highlands fought small
bands of Ghul through the farmlands. Nehtur hated these meetings and could
not wait for the plans to be finalized so he could get out to help his
marines.
Writer: Rohmia
Date Tue Sep 15 21:22:14 2020
To Verminasia Eclipse Shadow All Imm RP
Subject Lost City - The Home Fire Burns
Rohmia pads barefoot across the floor of their living room, silent as she
picks at her cuticles. It had been too long since she last heard from him.
No missive. No word at all. She knew the Ghul threat was worse than he
generally let on, not wanting to scare her or worry her more than necessary.
He didn't speak about Dae'tok or the workings of the Eclipse.
She wasn't one of his soldiers.
She didn't need to know.
Reaching out to Cardinal Atennim, she listens to the words and freezes for a
moment before beginning her pacing once more. Separated from his forces by
a cave-in. Closed the path behind them. "He will be found."
Her reply is honest as she murmurs, "I have faith, Cardinal. I know he is
too important to the cause to not be sought. The question is whether he
will be returned with his shield, or on it. Darkness bless, and guide you."
With a small, unintelligible sound, the woman lifts her head and screams out
a cathartic yawp of anger and frustration and hurt.
They had talked about this. What would happen if he didn't come home.
She stops her pacing, taking a shaky breath before straightening her
shoulders, 'Alright, Mia. That's quite enough of that. He knew...' She
blows out a breath, 'We knew it was possible. Sacrifices must be made, and
Mac has always been the one to sacrifice so others didn't have to.'
Taking another, steadier breath, Rohmia turns to look at the family
portraits scattered about the walls and atop the mantel. Her gaze catches
on the scarred visage of her husband, her eyes growing damp before she
clears her throat and shakes her head, 'I will not let you down, my
Nightmare.' Stepping up to one of the paintings, her fingers trail over
the air above his cheek, 'I will not let the Stormbound name be forgotten.
Whether you come home or not, Mac, you will be remembered.'
She straightens her spine, shaking her hair back over her shoulders as fiery
determination fills her eyes, 'It's time to get to work, my sweet Nightmare.'
Writer: Eevelline
Date Wed Sep 16 03:43:41 2020
To All Drakkara Rasavadi Maccus Tamaska Nymaya Eclipse Shadow Verminasia ( Imm RP Religion )
Subject Lost City - {uActing High-Gnome of the Eclipse ( 1 )
Her hands worked swiftly within the wound, thumb and forefinger pinching
a laceration closed while the other hand prepares the needle for sutures.
'No word from the General? ' The gnome keeps up her work on this member of
the Deathwatch, who seems to have a blue aura surrounding his entire figure.
'None, Voice. For All we know they are down there in the tunnels. You
haven't been able to sense him? ' A half-elf ranger by the look of him,
bearing the standard of the Eclipse on his chest stands to the side while
Eevelline works.
The gnome makes quick work of the sutures, taking great care to ensure
proper closing. Before the gnome severs the thread, she puts a small metal
tube into the remaining open wound- and then ties knots. 'I see. Then it
is clear what I must do now. ' Eevelline looks to a steward of the medical
tent, and pushes her bloody glasses up. 'Ensure the wound drains red. If
it does not, inform the surgeon- amputation will be required. ' A few pats
to the unconscious Deathwatch member's shoulder, and the gnome turns to look
at the ranger.
'You lead us now, then? What of the Highlord? Will he return? ' The
ranger looks down to the gore-spattered gnome and narrows his eyes.
'For now. First off- inform our reserves they march upon first light. We
will not be gatewaying them down either. They march as one, to ensure no
one is alone. ' Eevelline turns about, and looks over the other patients in
this tent. They're All asleep, peacefully healing while a similar blue aura
shimmers about their forms. There are thirty in this tent that will live,
if the Voice had anything to say about it.
'We only have so many divisions ready to fight- and they're thin, Voice.
Very thin. We can't possibly cover what you want us to cover. ' The ranger
rubs his face, and then shakes his head.
'We will win. I will personally be joining All of you down there. Shield
and pike, brother. They will break themselves upon us. ' Eevelline looks
back to the ranger, and pushes her glasses up. 'Bring Larimer to me, as
well- I have a message I want delivered to Her Temple. ' The gnome heads
out of the tent, and into the cold snowscape of Eastdrift- ranger in tow.
'You didn't answer me- will the Highlord -return-, Voice. ' The ranger
holds the tent-flap open for the gnome before exiting, his visage growing
rather spiteful.
'When the Highlord does return- which he will, I will not allow him to
return to a missing General, and the capitulation of our lines. I will say
it in a way you can understand- we. Will. Not. Allow this. Now am I
clear, brother? ' The gnome dips her hands in a snowdrift next to the tent,
and scrubs her fingers with the snow.
The half-elf blinked a few times, and bowed a little. '... As you wish,
Voice. I will go prepare the reserves. Larimer, right? '
'Larimer, yes. Send him to my tent- I'll be preparing for the march down.
' While the ranger salutes and heads off- the gnome keeps scrubbing her
hands in the snowbank. The march would be grueling, but it is exceptionally
necessary. Another glasses push later, and the gnome heads off to prepare
for combat.
---
As dawn breaks over the Bastion of Darkness, a short human male quietly
enters Drakkara's Temple. He is greeted by several acolytes of the Temple,
which stop their chores of cleaning and chanting to listen to his words.
'By order of the Dark Lady's Voice, you are All hereby ordered to Icewall.
Those that do not show up, will be dealt with by the Voice herself. We
leave in an hour. ' The acolytes simply nod, and scurry about to pack their
things.
Writer: Symantha
Date Wed Sep 16 08:40:13 2020
To All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
Subject Lost City - Finds It Will Bleed - I
"{uYou were lead down a mine with the promise of riches and All you found
{uin the end, was fool's gold. You were toyed with, played with until you
{uwere broken and then punished for failing to deliver."
++--++
She drifted forward, drawn by the motion of the Ark, by the movement of the
Shadowguard - by the Dark Lord and de Vere before them.
Shadows oscillated around them, hypnotic. Never clear but very nearly. She
could feel the power beckon her, familiar but vastly twisted. Its purpose,
she began to perceive, was rooted not simply in destruction but in...
something far worse. Something meant to last. To go on, and on, until an
unprescribed day.
It was something she understood. The memory of His wrath would never
diminish, and she had witnessed it thrice. It made her stomach knot almost
as much as the madness in this place.
Disturbingly, even as the Dark Lord lead them unerringly, she knew exactly
where to go and how to get there. They were, perhaps, halfway when the
first Shadowguard fell, heralded only by a sharp cut off scream of pure
rage.
She saw only a throb of darkness where he had been near a ledge, the
causeway a narrow monolithic path at this juncture punctuated by a twisted
archway. The sides fell off into oblivion and that, it appeared, was where
he had gone. The twinge returned. She had served with these men and women
for decades...
...Kesepton...
An eruption of whispers lifted in a euphoric crescendo only to dip into a
demonic rush of maddened chittering, growls and gnashing. Someone dropped
to their knees beside her, snapping her from the vaguely familiar visage
slowly drifting just beyond the range of the Abbott's power, but she grabbed
them en route beneath the arm.
"Do not stop!" She called out and then caught her breath as she looked on
the Magister she had helped up.
His eyes...he had clawed them out.
Blood dripped down his cheeks and chin, the empty sockets and the expression
on his twisted features devoid. The mania of whatever he had experienced
etched there still.
"We failed." He was whispering over and over and abruptly he grabbed her
face. Through a truly manic grin that belonged to the Godson then, he
breathed in a frenzy. "You failed!"
She knew this. She had -been- here -- there. His aura, the fear.
"No" She spit back and shoved the spectre away. Deep, dark laughter erupted
as the nightmarish vision dispersed and she found herself still on pace with
the Ark.
Barely a pause appeared to have ensued but the lapse had been more of a
warning than she should have needed. Such was the attestation of the power
they were approaching. Like a weight on the mind, slowly pressing in,
squeezing like a vice.
Writer: Symantha
Date Wed Sep 16 09:04:25 2020
To All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
Subject Lost City - Finds It Will Bleed - II
"{uYou have been failed many times. By men. By the demon. By Necrucifer.
{uThe suffering is only in the continued hold of what has been. Reach for
{uwhat can be. What will be."
++--++
She looked to the Manse ahead. So deceptively close in its size. Halfway
there. She had worn no gloves, just furs, but the weight and heat of the
cloak was too much. She let it fall with barely a thought and took stock of
the Shadowguard, of the Magisters, around her. Each was a grim testament to
their training but even so, she could see the strain visibly.
The metallic ticking of her beaded chain falling free from her sleeve, where
she had coiled it around her arm, heralded the soft but steady chant of
prayer that followed and into the charged atmosphere she added what she
could to the Dark Lord's shielding.
Tension radiated up through her tightened jaw into her skull. It promised
agony later and though she was not masochistic, it would be preferable to
this.
The red aurora weaving above cascaded and writhed, as if a manifestation of
the pain she could now feel emanating outward. On every conceivable level
it existed and she knew immediately the brush of her dead God's influence.
She no longer cared for the architecture. For the flora of odd and
disturbing nature or the crystals that lit the upper echelons. The massive
drops, the soaring highs. What mattered was what lie ahead, shrouded in a
chamber that was now vivid in her mind.
...pedestals...twisted crowns for twisted minds...broken souls, torn
hearts...a fiery orb...a shaft of stormy unnatural light over a rock not
of Algoron, over a crater...obliterating power...
She grimaced beneath the sharp, vacillate visions. They were not her
memories, not hers...
Laughter whispered around her. Malicious, insidious. And she felt spectral
fingers slip through her hair and over the stone against her brow.
"Bring it to us"
Paired voices, indistinguishable from each other but familiar now. Bold.
Commanding. Arrogant. Desperate.
The doors were before them. A knot work of indescribable marksmanship,
though it was only after blinking rapidly that she realized they were not.
It had merely been an attempt to replicate what had been. Her grip on the
unholy symbol forced it painfully into her palm.
They still had the complex of the Silver Manse to navigate and it was with
concern that she now studied Telthian. Even de Vere, demon that he was, had
not passed unscathed by what had tormented each of them on the path, or so
it appeared to her eye - and that had surely not been the worst of what was
to come.
The remaining Shadowguard and Magisters, fewer again than had entered with
them, drew in closer to the Ark and beneath an overhang of monolithic
properties, they briefly took stock and regrouped around the unbowed Dark
Lord.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 6] Nymaya: Lost City - The Keeper's Mission (i)
Tue Sep 22 23:57:41 2020
To: Rasavadi Tamaska Maccus Verminasia ( Eclipse Taszakul ) RP Storychain All
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Each movement precisely flowed into the next, a complete and fluid
pattern that culminated in a blade form she had practiced now for over two
hundred years.
In its meditative design, she found short-lived peace.
In practice, it was both satisfying and maddening.
The ghul fell in a steady procession, each cut down as they came for her and
the four that she chose to accompany this mission. They were each masters
of their art: a yinn assassin, a yinn ranger, a wild elf shaman and a
minotaur barbarian.
The minotaur was all brutal strength, a pair of large axes in each hand and
rusty fur now blackened with ghul ichor and entrails. He was an unstoppable
whirl of destruction on her left while the assassin ranged out to her right.
Behind, wielding spears and swords with deadly accuracy, the shaman and the
ranger brought up the rear.
Their goal was the other side of the inner crater and the shell of a palace
that had once hosted the rulers of Dae'tok. The trail she had picked up
suggested that the item she sought had once made its way there and though
the likelihood was small that it might still be present, she was willing to
try and her fellow compatriots had been willing to follow.
It was not a thing that needed to fall into just anyone's hand. By old
rights, it was to be in hers.
She let the rapid pace of combat guide her forward, her silver hair flashing
in the pale illumination of the moon between scudding clouds. They were not
as satisfying to kill as the living acolytes in the monastery but for every
severed ghul, she let herself feel a modicum of accomplishment. It helped
appease the underlying fury, never far from the surface.
"Dragon!" The shaman had been watching and above, barely a shadow against
the sky, a black firstborn raked the left of their position with a line of
acid.
It was close enough she could hear it sizzle the ground, the buildings, and
the ghul. Could smell its acrid scent.
"Pick up the pace." She called out and with a quick flick of her sword to
clear it of loose ghul ichor, sheathed it and drew her quarterstaff.
cont.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 7] Nymaya: Lost City - The Keeper's Mission (ii)
Wed Sep 23 00:14:51 2020
To: Rasavadi Tamaska Maccus Verminasia ( Eclipse ) RP Storychain All
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The rush around the crater was harried half of the way by writhing,
growling ghul but they drew in closer and held pace against the onslaught.
The thick of the ghul force was situated well behind them now and with every
step, the enemy grew fewer.
It was at once troubling and an unsought blessing. Though it meant they
were all funneling to the forces of Eclipse and Verminasia.
The rise she paused on permitted her a glance back at the thick of the
battle playing out. The bright white of frost breath, the sickening green
of acid, fire alight throughout. Even so far away, she could hear the cries
of fighting, feel the ground shake precariously - but her mission was clear.
"The way is clear, Keeper." The shaman had sighted the path for them and
once assured, she turned from the pitched battle across the way to lead them
into the broken remnants.
The cold ruin still managed to contain the memory of its splendor. It would
have towered over the other buildings; a magnificent sprawl of lost craft.
Easy to imagine, even in the midst of the hellish and cursed place it had
become, what it might have looked like beneath the winter sun at its zenith.
The inside was a bare outline of rubble. Large, shattered blocks and thick
piles of dust that hadn't moved in ages. Nothing of value appeared to have
survived the harsh elements, the calculated will behind the ghul, or the
impact of the meteor. The several floors that had likely reigned above her
position were a lost memory but it was to the furthest center quadrant of
the area that she precariously picked her way.
There had been a tower once and at its top, the room she was looking for.
What remained now was...disappointing, expected, but she was beholden to
search anyway. If nothing else, something might point her to where it had
been taken.
All but the minotaur fanned out to search for anything with magical
properties, the lumbering barbarian turned instead to watch their backs, and
the next several minutes were dedicated to sifting with careful speed.
It was an odd sound that brought her to a pause, though it was only after
the fact, and with the hairs now finally rising along the back of her neck
she turned from her search to survey the area.
Disturbingly, the only thing out of place was the minotaur but the reason
for that made itself obvious seconds later. The sound she had heard was its
snort. Steam was rising from it in the cold Icewall night, more than what
its breath might have produced.
Seconds later, with only moments to spare, it fell forward with a gush of
arterial blood and a burst of fire shot over its toppling form.
cont.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 8] Nymaya: Lost City - The Keeper's Mission (iii)
Wed Sep 23 01:35:46 2020
To: Rasavadi Tamaska Maccus Verminasia ( Eclipse ) RP Storychain All
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The fire deflected around her to her own command of the elements but the
stall tactic had worked. When she lowered her hand, not one but several
hulking ghul in plated armor and wielding large weapons were at every exit
and behind them, hovering over the ground, were robed ghul.
Her retinue of three drew in, forming a line to oppose the threats as they
lumbered forward, but it was clear now: this had been a trap.
"You" -she directed to the assassin- "kill or distract the sorcerer ahead
while the rest of us clear that passage. We do not have time for this."
"We stand or fall together." The words were spoken in harsh yinnish and
were nothing less than what she had expected.
"Restinguere Solem." She acknowledged, earning a matched response from
the rest.
They might have all struck then but the lead sorcerer moved first.
Lightning crackled ominously between its clawed, emaciated hands. The
ridges of its desiccated lips rising in a grin while the malicious power
behind its eyes observed.
The shaman stepped up beside her and to their paired casting, a shield
quickly arose to fend off the spell but its thunderous impact struck the
area and set off a chain reaction.
The ground, far more deceptively precarious beneath their feet, began to
quake and rapidly crumble. She had time only to look at the shaman, to
share a knowing glance.
"Go--!" She tried to yell anyway but there was no escaping the breadth of
the collapse. The lumbering ghul began to fall even as she, her group and
everything else around them, did. Unconcerned with their own fate.
Her last conscious observation, before the black of the cavernous plunge
beneath took them all, was to watch the shaman transform mid-drop and fly
out in an owl's form.
cont.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 10] Vincent: Lost City - It Flows from Without and from Within - I
Wed Sep 23 19:44:48 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hope is but the prelude to despair. A crutch for the weak, an
intoxicating drug to placate the sheep before their slaughter. Abandon
hope, mortals, and embrace your faith in God. It shall be your unshakable
foundation in the dark days to come."
-}-*-{-
"Fiend at the front, Lord Templar with the Ark. I will hold the manifest
whispers at bay as long as I can."
For as often as archfiend and ancient chromatic butted horned heads, few
creatures existed with whom the demon resonated more greatly. Despite lack
of argument unto its sensibility, were time not in short supply and the path
before them less perilous, pride would have demanded some gnashing rebuttal
against the command. Alas, the road to the Manse was just that: littered
with treachery, attempting to prize life and sanity, both from without and
from within.
They were no longer upon the Prime Material of Algoron, the stark
differences between realms far less subtle than the transition between them.
Latent power surged into the mortal vessel, painfully so as it tested the
confines of flesh and bone, drawn from this demi-plane of the infinite
Abyss. The familiar aura of dread wrought a chill down his spine, a barbed
amenity provided by the "comfort" of home. Lo, the nature of his birthplace
was ever shifting, forged in chaos which tested the bounds of Order.
For all the unforgiving facets of the path they presently tread, each paced
step ahead of a now anemic party may as well have placed miles between them.
Ere before long did the wyrm-king's blessed succor of repression give way,
the tortured wails expelled by the mortals in his wake deafened by a ringing
within his ears.
What fool thoughts have plagued your mind, Xaran'xaxes?
No whispers then assailed the Abyssal spawn bound in mortal flesh, but the
harsh intonation of words spoken with unmistakable clarity.
You've become soft, demon. Infected by the very soul you sought to bind to
your essence... Empathy. Companionship. Offspring. Love... Disgusting.
You have become weak.
So perhaps his armor had gained some chinks. So perhaps she had opened and
exposed him to exploitable, mortal emotions. He had convinced himself that
the bond strengthened them both, if in numbers alone.
Gorsythe was right. You could have been GODS. But now?... You are
nothing. Another addle-minded creature, far too gone to salvage.
No. His rival demon lord was wrong - words flung with wanton desperation in
an attempt to spare its own wretched existence. There was no defying the
gods' might. How many had dared aspire to such before and suffered for it?
You have failed your Lord Creator utterly. You sacrificed your power, and
all for what? There is nothing to be gained from these mayflies, from this
realm of doomed insects.
Harsh laughter bellowed, reverberating with unnatural vehemence along the
twisted corridor and throughout the rise and fall of buildings awry,
perverted reproductions of what was once solid and real within the mortal
plane.
He did not care to cast a glance over his shoulder to see if it was heard by
the rest.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 11] Vincent: Lost City - It Flows from Without and from Within - II
Wed Sep 23 19:48:36 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You are no Demon Lord any longer. You are no "Prince of Ambition." ...
Just another sheep to be shorn and then slaughtered along with the rest of
this pathetic flock.
Utter scorn for the slander flared a human nose and drew back human lips to
bare a sneer of teeth and fangs: a far cry from his natural own.
The display came reflected before his mind's eye, his visage devoid its
prominent crown of horns, a sparking shock searing self-awareness into
cognizance. Taloned, if human hands curled about Xul'vidaan's shaft.
Clawed, if human feet filled the boots which trudged forward, man-gaited
footfall by footfall. A farmer's body filled armor only a lesser creature
would require in place of tempered scales and leathery flesh. No wings
flared from his shoulders gifting flight, and no tail sprouted from his
haunches... What had he become? Was there no going back?
Drakkara is aware of your designs... She has pilfered them for herself and
already set them into motion. What use has she of you now? The answer is
"none", worm... She will be rid of you at her next convenience.
The overseers of Shadow had deemed them radical ideas. He had snubbed his
nose and departed their irredeemable nescience. Ironic, now, that they were
poised to bow before her. An insignificant victory in the face of an
assuredly damning truth.
These mortals - why do you aid them so? They will betray you readily,
eagerly, unless you do so first... Take the star and leave them to their
well deserved fates. They would only squander it, anyway.
It would not be the first time his "companions" undermined him,
intentionally or otherwise. Or, far worse, deceived him with treasonous
intent. Still, the fiend pressed forward, glaive supporting a measure of
bodily weight which had never burdened him prior.
You have become weak, the admonishment repeated, Your time of glory and
grandeur ended long ago... Better you cast yourself into the maw of
destruction than linger, a shell of what once was.
He refused.
Ultimately, there was naught the demon could proffer in solid defense
against the veracity of these claims, much as he sought to rebuff them.
Great as his efforts to do so had been these several years passed, if not
for far, far longer than that.
Xaran'xaxes could not deny the voice which was his own.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 12] Vincent: Lost City - It Flows from Without and from Within - III
Wed Sep 23 19:52:16 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Creature birthed of greatest Darkness, I bestow upon thee my unyielding
ambition. Endure. Conquer. Thrive. Do not cease until your utter
destruction. This is the will of your Lord God. No amount of suffering
shall compare to that which awaits you for rebellion or failure."
-}-*-{-
The beginning of an end came nearer with every painstaking step, the bulwark
of ancient timber and casting which comprised the Manse's towering doors
divulging their intricate design of Yinnish knot-work inlaid therein. Had
the ragged band leisure time to do so, even he could appreciate the
strenuous effort required to create such a fine work of art, eerily deformed
in its attempted replication as it was.
The way no less clear for the trail he had blazed, the flesh-bound fiend
took pause upon the base of the stair preceding their success or demise, the
stinging doubt of thoughts loosed from repression no less caustic to a mind
unshaken for millennia. At last, he twisted to peer behind him, turning
baleful braziers of hellfire upon the tenacious creatures in tow.
"Leave him!", the demon lashed at Symantha through flesh-rending teeth and
fangs, the venom of his words at the peak of their virulence. There was no
time to suffer weakness. No strength that could be spared, relinquished
unto the meek for hope of their survival. The oppressive dread of their
final jaunt was indivisible, uniquely individual, and to be weathered by
each in full. By her own adamant will or by the fiend's furious command,
the priestess thrust the man-turned-wraith over the precipice in renewal of
her steel.
The sparse remainder of what once numbered many trudged forward, led by
their Dark Lord "Schwartz". To the wyrm's credit, had he been likewise
afflicted, a glimpse upon his stoic countenance revealed nothing of his
burdens. Gathered upon the brink, shadows biting and ripping at each, King,
Chancellor, and Archfiend exchanged a wordless look of assent. This was it.
The final gasp before the plunge into unknowable depths.
The latter of them ascended the steps, a disposable vanguard of the precious
Ark without which there would be no triumphant return. In a balming release
of power screaming to be spent, with the thrust of his unburdened palm, he
expelled a blast of raw Abyssal energy forceful enough to tear open the
gateway barring their path with a violent boom, memories of wood splintered
and smoldering, echoes of metal melted and gnarled.
There they were, writhing without end from the selfsame scourge which now
assailed their long awaited guests. Twins cursed to eternal torment for
their defiance by the very gods they sought to oppose, their court damned to
share in their fate by proximity of heresy alone, no innocence or objection
weighed in the measuring of their guilt. The hive-mind of the Ghul, pulsing
in unrelenting aguish, rule of their people omniscient and absolute in a
cruel notion of irony.
At the center of it all lie the fallen star, the meteor wrenched by
Necrucifer Himself from the Infernal Planes and cast upon these rebellious
creatures with smiting intent. It pulsed with insidious promise, the prize
of the Faithful finally in sight after the long and bloody bid to see a
Prophecy fulfilled.
All that remained was to step forth and claim it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 13] Eevelline: Lost City - Acting High-Gnome of the Eclipse ( 5 )
Thu Sep 24 17:25:13 2020
To: Drakkara All Rasavadi Maccus Nymaya Tamaska Tikhondrius Eclipse Shadow Verminasia ( Imm RP Religion Storyline )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'You thirty are going to do an outskirt patrol, starting from the north.
Go clockwise when you get north, and above all? Do not make it known that
you are all of the Eclipse. ' Eevelline is standing in the middle of
fifteen various mortals, holding a map up with a red dotted line indicating
their path. A small finger traces the path to take, a demonstration of what
she wants. The line goes north of Dae'tok, to the near boundaries of the
map in question- then goes clockwise and shoots back up to the box-formation
once they are south. 'I want all of you to check in with the encampment as
well, to relay your status when you get there. I leave it to you thirty to
decide how best you accomplish this goal. '
Volar tilts his head while listening to the briefing, looking the path over.
'What do we do if he shows up, Voice? You said so yourself that he's a
little disgruntled. ' The other twenty-nine nod quietly, looking rather
confused.
'He knows that I'm going to be sending contingents into his land to scout
and corral the threats as best we are able. If we extend courtesy, I bet we
will get the same. If he wants all of you off the land? Leave, but I doubt
he will do that. I've spoken to him personally. ' Eevelline pushes her
glasses up, and holds the map far above her head. 'Take this map too, it
has notes on it you may need out there. ' A female Dark-Elf takes the map
gently, rolling it up while listening still.
'As you wish, Voice. We leave immediately? I'd rather not leave while
we're in the thick of battle. ' Volar looks around, paranoia plaguing his
features now. For an entire day, the lines had seen little of ghuls. A few
here and there, but no horde has approached. The other twenty-nine nod once
more, looking relieved to be leaving in somewhat calm climes.
'You leave when you see fit, Volar. For now I consider this briefing done-
rest up, pack, do all of the above. I am going to see to the lines before
nightfall hits. ' All thirty nod and disperse, saluting no one or making
any drawn-out notions. Eeve pushes her glasses up and looks to the sky. It
was mid-day at this point in time, and that left plenty of time for the
gnome to do some housecleaning.
'Anklebreakers, stake pits- plus we may need to get supplies moved down. I
hope the Great White sees the effort. Thirty soldiers is not something I
can part with easy, even temporarily. Ah well.. Cannot be helped. ' The
gnome descends the observation tower and gets to work.
---
It hungers.. Calls to me. It says to feed.. But we must wait until the
right moment. Yes, yes.. We wait. It wants us to capture the interloper.
The short one.. It has shown us this one's face. It does not call to us as
it used to.. But we remember the interloper. It is wise. It shall make an
excellent addition to it's collection. All of them.. Yes. We strike
soon.. And turn the interloper.
It defied us once before.. It will no longer do so. It shall lead them all
to us. We watch.. And wait. They will join us in undeath.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 27] Telthian: Lost City - Finds It Will Bleed - III
Sun Oct 4 01:02:44 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"They were right in their envy of you, though wrong in their reasoning.
I do find amusement in Storm following their bleeding heart still."
-*-
Each step down the long causeway unsettled the ancient earth as the small
band made its way down through the blackened arcades, the road winding
through the nightmare city with a serpent-like suggestion. The cracked and
irregular stone road stretched on and on before them, the space dilating
some moments before contracting back on itself again, making it impossible
to judge the distance ahead. Opulent and imperial, only the Manse remained
fixed upon the black horizon.
"You have suffered long and hard to be who you are, what is a little more
blood lost?"
Wisps of darkness poured off the darksteel Ark as they made their way
forward, the air thick with power and the sickness underlying it all. The
small ceremonial kris pierced the skin easily and with a word of power rich,
arterial blood flowed in a thin river to fuel a mote of hellfire burning in
the Dark Lord's palm. Holding it aloft, their descent traced a warm line of
still-beating hearts through the sea of madness and promises lost.
The malice surrounding them pressed inward and his will, channeled through
the steady drip of sanguine vitality consumed in fire safeguarded the
others, swallowing pain and fear. With each step he strode, rose the
twisted cries of comrades lost. Weathered and broken bones piled high in
long-forgotten and lonely cairns, monuments to his failure.
Ravenous clutching shadows picked away at their band one at a time. One of
the Shadowguard was first claimed by the madness, his end merciful at the
end of gravity's decline. Not even the Magisters, capable of traversing the
labyrinthine corridors of the Umbra, could keep the voices out.
"You imagine death so often now that feels more like a memory, doesnt it?"
Whispering shadows found their way between the gaps in their protection,
turning hearts of stalwart men who had seen the worst on Algoron into
fragile things of glass. Like the eye of a storm, the black power of the
abyss swarmed around them.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 28] Telthian: Lost City - Finds It Will Bleed - IV
Sun Oct 4 01:08:24 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"As much as I want Storm to be the circled crown upon which I wear, it is
nothing more than a band of gold without its jewels. I want you, too. I
want you to be my crowning glory."
-*-
The landscape and their surroundings twisted and turned with each step and
the shadows extracted their due from Symantha, Vincent and the Knights as
they approached their goal. The Manse stood ever out of reach, a shining
beacon luring any who made it this far into the bowels of the Lost City into
this oubliette of madness. And they were foolish enough to walk into it.
'Telthian cannot be left alone to his own devices. He is not Isadore, we
must stop him. Marauders, Dae'tok, what was the point of any of it? The
best thing he can do is fade away.'
He found himself kneeling in the Archives of Fort Ironclad, a growing pool
of blood beneath him. Supporting his weight on his sword he fought to his
feet, he had dared to stand before his Creator. With no more than the
movement of Necrucifer's finger, Telthian's bones fractured. Each step
toward the Manse he felt the old spider's web of broken bone splintering
under the weight of his ambitions.
One of the Shadowguard had turned his head, looking off across the black
horizon. Reaching out to call him back to the present, Telthian extended a
hand only to find empty space. The towering minotaur in abyssal plate was
before him again, the scent of blood sharper than memory. The Altar of
Darkness loomed around him, caging them in as Mencius admonished Darkness
for its failure. Rage shared a wicked smile and the shards bean to melt.
The skin of the Dark Lord's hands burnt away again, the muscle fibers and
sinew melting until it sloughed to the floor with a wet sound. He could
feel the smug smiles at his back.
'What kind of man crawls into his own grave in search of hope?
Hope fails.'
He felt the flames of ordination lick at his skin as he trudged along, mind
and countenance fixed on the silver doors ahead. He could smell his own
burning skin, and though he could not see it, he could hear the screaming of
his congregation. He knew their names by the timbre of their wailing even
as he lost his sight to the fire. Marcaus, Reklah - he had burnt both alive
without a moment of hesitation and then felt Necrucifer's hellfire himself.
The agony of the purifying fire that marked their souls nearly broke the
three of them. But better to suffer through the pain than to live on in
weakness.
A scream split the air behind him and was cut short before the full measure
of breath could leave the owner's lungs. The space beside her where a
knight had stood was now empty, and the thin chain of Symantha's rosary
swung like a thin pendulum dangling from her wrist.
The stair to the towering silver doors rose before them, not out of the
strange porphyry stone they had crossed, but within the unforgiving slate of
his eyes each step was laid from countless corpses crushed under the weight
of those stacked above it.
The brittle bones protested beneath the weight as he climbed over top the
bodies of his once friends, family, and allies.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 29] Telthian: Lost City - Prophecy - I
Sun Oct 4 01:13:55 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
May we receive what fidelity we deserve for this, and all that is to
come.
-*-
The doorway hung open before them, the proud silver doors lay in a mangled,
smoldering heap. Like a last gasp, the air trapped within the chamber
rushed out in a gale, whipping at the remaining shadowknights and assailing
them with the smell of torn flesh and bones sucked hollow. The circular
chamber swept out before them, frozen just at the moment of their doom.
The twin emperors were standing, mouths wide and limbs outstretched as if
pleading. Beneath them, a few of their court had turned to run but it was
already too late. An elderly man among them wept, his muzzle drawn back in
despair. And a few scant feet from the impact, the high priest of Dae'tok
supplicated on their knees, but not one soul was spared. Black Winds
swirled around them, a furious and unrelenting torrent of suffering that
boiled outward from the fallen star. Craggy and red, its surface pocked
with black nodules blasted smooth and marked with whorls, what remained of
the starfall anchored the Black Wind into this place. The crimson aurora
painted them all in stark, bloody hues.
'A last embrace in the fury of the storm. One day reborn by one star and
one thorn.'
Telthian could not tell who had crossed the threshold first, nor when it had
happened. He felt Symantha's shoulder beneath the grip of his palm, heard
his own voice bark a command or perhaps warning, but could not remember what
it was, only that there was something terribly wrong.
Everything seemed to coil and then unfurl in time with a stumbling rhythm.
The court, doorways and royal accoutrement became shattered and twisted by
tremendous force before, suddenly, they were rearranged again only to repeat
it again. He heard - or more precisely, felt, the mournful wails of the
damned and the last gasping moments of Akenash and Akazi as the Twins locked
eyes with one another in full recognition of what folly they had wrought in
their ambition.
The cacophony of the Black Wind swarmed, blackness rushing over them
assaulting mind and spirit. Claw-tipped fingers raked their way through his
consciousness, searching for something and violating thoughts kept private
and unspoken. Telthian's sight faltered and his mind swam, memories of
times both recent and long passed flickered before him as all sense of time
was lost.
'Bodies burned and crowns shattered. But even Kings rule the day they die,
Maw.'
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 30] Telthian: Lost City - Prophecy - II
Sun Oct 4 01:21:25 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At first there is only darkness. Then a heartbeat. Weak, and sickly.
-*-
Vision assailed him as both knees collapsed upon the mosaic floor. Blood
was on his tongue, the cold steel of a knife buried in his gut, and a
fistfull of blonde hair in his grasp. He heard Malachive's command, the
murmur of the knights, protests and vanity. It was to be exile. For they
had failed and were fortunate to escape with their lives into the night. He
strained against the confusion, his robes clinging to him in a cold sweat,
fighting as his heart thundered with a panicked fury in his breast.
The Ark crashed to the floor with a resounding echo, the Shadowguard
convulsing on the floor, one of their legs pinned beneath the heavy
darksteel. He could make out the shape of Vincent, his body pulled between
pools of shadow, growling and lashing out like a cornered beast. Symantha's
voice rang out, calling from some far away place. He heard the music of her
laugh, perhaps for the first time in months.
Knights flying the blue banner moved in formation beneath their position,
the flag rippling in the gentle breeze as he peered through the thick,
magical fog. An otherworldly glow descended, and that was their sign. It
was not a fair fight, but this was war. His muzzle was slick with blood by
the time it was over and he shouted - but it was not in joy, but agony. The
shaft of a silver arrow penetrated his chest, and another joined it
protruding from his belly. He was a prince of Dae'tok! Surely help would
Surely the Gods would He did not die quickly. The elves had come and the
company retreated. Wounds of all types riddled his body. He was dragged
within an inch of his life. A parchment stuffed into his mouth, and his
head removed to be sent home to his siblings, the Twins.
A break in the wind passed, permitting him a moment to grasp the smith's
hammer hanging from his belt and choke out an invocation as the tool's face
connected with the stone's surface. He began to chant, invoking the umbric
seals crafted upon the tool and with momentum his words began to take power.
He centered his will toward the object at the center of it all. Delirious
from the madness of it all, a hungry grin crossed the dark lord's lips.
Within the Black Wind he could feel the dominating power of the God he
called upon begin to gather itself.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 34] Rasavadi: The Wolves of Gohdam 8: Entering the Cenotaph
Mon Oct 5 20:06:46 2020
To: all Crelius Shadow Verminasia Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"How did my ancestors ever live in this retched waste?" Rasavadi
questioned his horse as he navigated his way back through Eastdrift to the
port to meet his HighLord. Coming within walking distance from the port he
unsaddled the fine beast, and layered several cloaks and blankets throughout
her barding. "Only one of us has to die love. Go seek out Nehtur in
Nordmaar or Verthgoth in Ganth and they will see you fed and well tended
to." Rasavadi then attached a spare Eclipsian war banner atop her back and
gently spanked her bottom to send her on her way.
Walking to within sighting distance he watched as man in fur covered full
plate kicked a boat back into the sea. Rasavadi sighed inwardly, "So it is
time to enact an ancient ritual, revenge. Hopefully we both manage to
survive this."
"Is it time then?"
"Yes, let us begin"
The walk along the shoreline and after a short climb arrived at a cavern
protecting the entrance to this time trapped abomination. Silence, the
occasional clink of armor, and their own thoughts were their only companions
this night. The thoughts were enough for Rasavadi, however. Despite his
ability to command with confidence to those around him he suffered greatly
with imposters syndrome whose tendrils sank deep in the quiet this night.
After entering the cavern, and stowing their climbing gear, Crelius finally
spoke, "It must be difficult for you, joining me while your comrades fight a
battle that is not in their favor. "
"Thanks Captain obvious," he muttered inwardly while replying, "This must be
seen through."
"Must it now? What will change should you find success here, d'Aerthe? "
How he managed not to utter a string of curses longer than his sword is a
true testament to Rasavadi's patience. Instead he fired off some questions,
"Why are you doing this, Attennim?" , Accenting the shades last name in an
unpleasant manner, "Why now, of all times?" Rasavadi was never fully
mentally prepared for his dealings with Crelius who is a man known in recent
years as cryptic on the best of days.
A hot, humid wind blew from the crack that served as the only entry into the
place known as the Savage Lands. Air so thick it clogged the nostrils, and
felt as though it could be chewed. Climbing through Rasavadi pondered his
last meeting with Vincent about wild goose chases and meat puppets all the
while resisting the urge to claw through his armor as the temperature change
began to make him itch.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 39] Eevelline: Lost City - What To Say When You Talk To Yourself ( 1 )
Tue Oct 6 17:44:49 2020
To: Drakkara All Rasavadi Maccus Tamaska Nymaya Eclipse Shadow Verminasia ( Imm RP Religion )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Blood rivers, rifts- and muck, oh my! That seems to be all the buzz
nowadays in the realm. It's not like I didn't warn everyone that She was
coming. ' Eevelline sips at a brackish substance from a pewter cup as she
looks over the encampment from her observation post. The gnome twitches
lightly, though such things are normal and in abundance from what others
might say. Small skirmishes were making up most of the surface fighting
here at Dae'tok, at least.. That is what the gnome could make sense of.
Somewhere down below, the forces she was hoping to draw out are at work on
the dive team. Not good. Not good at all..
The gnome sips at her coffee, and looks to the western line of the box
formation.. Drifting away into daydreams..
The scenery opens with roiling fires and a red sky. Abyssal tentacles and
maws filled with daggerlike teeth droop down from within the clouds, the
appendages being large enough to graze the surface of the world. The fires
swirl around their fuel sources, creating a vortex that is both deafening
and awe-inspiring. A small gnome skips through the burning streets, her
laughter roaring above the ambience of chaos. Her eyes are black, bearing
abyssal pupils that snuff out the whites- and her teeth are long with
menacing points. The gnome stops skipping, and looks over her shoulder..
The laughter turning into a smile. 'You're thinking about me again. People
will say we are in love. '
Eevelline snaps out of her daydream with a start- spilling some of her hot
coffee on her hand. As the gnome grits her normal teeth, she studies the
brackish fluid that is slowly burning her skin. 'I want to end it all.
This campaign.. The war.. Her Wrath? It is too slow. I want speed and
style. '
'Do you? ' As the sky from Eevelline's view turns red, another gnome peeks
up from the ledge of this tower. Eevelline looks this familiar over, and
nods slowly. The familiar giggles, and floats upward- landing atop the
tower. After a flourishing spin, the familiar looks to the hand still
searing with coffee on her physical form. 'Then why don't you speed it up?
If I were Her, I'd of gotten rid of you by now. '
As the "voice" in her head smiles wide and picks some desiccated matter from
her sharpened teeth, the normal Eevelline sighs. 'She does not speak to me
as I wish She would. I have so many questions, that require so many
answers.. Yet silence. I'd be laying siege to Althainia if She did not
concern Herself with mortals that hate Her. '
'Challenging Her Will are you? ' The alter-Eeve tuts, and smirks. 'She
cares little about -how- things are done, only that -they- are done. She
covets the goal, not the method- isn't this what you preach? ' Alter-Eeve
circles the physical gnome, stopping at her left side. 'What if She has
truly given you the tools needed to hasten "the end"? What if you're too
weak to use them? '
'I will not give in to what those visions showed me. I will -not- call it
forth. Even De Vere knows it's dangerous. ' Eevelline narrows her gaze
while looking to her doppleganger.
'Dangerous.. To -whom-? You? De Vere? -HER-? She would give you those
pats on the head, if you took the risk. Be the monster they want you to be.
I'll be waiting in the depths once more. Visit me when you are ready.. '
The alter-Eeve fades away slowly after putting a hand to the brackish liquid
on her counterpart's hand. The light pink skin is swept clean of the coffee
as things return to normal.
---
'General? Are you alright? ' Volar lightly pats Eevelline on the shoulder,
concern on his face.
'For now, Volar.. For now. Tonight.. I would like the lines to stomp, as
well as crash shields. Let's provoke them into their doom, hm? The dive
team may need relief. '
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 50] Rasavadi: The Wolves of Gohdam (9): Upon the Rise
Mon Oct 12 15:32:41 2020
To: all Shadow Verminasia Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The two made their way through the forgotten hell of a jungle lodged,
somehow, in the center of a continent known only for its permafrost.
Darkness was the only constant aside from the oppressive heat, humidity.
Rasavadi was fairly sure they would have been better suited to a single
match than the torch that Crelius carried. In fact, he was sure of it as it
only made this alien terrain worse and reminiscent of the realms of the
Aspects of Sin that he had the unfortunate "honor" of visiting.
"There are three debts I have yet to fulfill, in these next few hours
thrice will have seen their course paid. " the shade uttered. Though a
dead quiet utterance the words seemed to blaze through their surroundings.
"Three debts?" Rasavadi managed to croak in response through the pain the
atmosphere.
"Yes, you will understand .. When the time comes. Perhaps tonight, or
perhaps in a hundred years, you will understand... "
Slowly they climbed a rise until they arrived at its zenith. Crelius turned
on his heel suddenly and spoke. "This will do, now allow me to speak
clearly. " He doused the magical torch and cast them into near darkness.
The small, earthen rise behind them was black against the star light sky.
Rasavadi looked on as Crelius dropped his weapons. The smell of burnt
grass, and a couple unlucky insects, were acrid to Rasavadi's heightened
senses as the Fathers blessings lashed out around them.
Finally he unbuckled a strap from his chest laid down a fur covered burden
which had a handle of what Rasavadi thought was a framed backpack. It took
a moment for Rasavadi to register what it was until Crelius began removing
the knots binding the wolf-fur covering of a large maul.
"So, this is not a wild goose chase after all, " he thought to himself.
"I know what this means for you to be here, now you must know what it means
for me. "
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 51] Symantha: Lost City - Be Vigilant in All - III
Mon Oct 12 17:56:14 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'To have been a voice in how to shape its very essence, the mastermind
behind the vision that would come to be....
'And yet, as time went on, stifled beneath an ego that had no right to hold
it. Not viewed as an equal when MY moon is the one that gives power to the
rise of Darkness.'
'My sphere is the true extinguisher of the sun.'
++--++
The crushing weight of the power, of the Black Wind, rushing through the
room like an unholy vortex brought them all low. As he would have Willed,
followed the strangely quiescent thought.
She had been here. She knew this. And though it was undoubtedly
punishment, she nonetheless reveled in the unbridled power of her dead God.
She felt her shoulder grabbed even as she called out to Telthian and
Vincent, but her voice fell into the wind and was smothered. She heard the
Ark drop, a cry of pain next to similar sounds of struggle as the
Shadowguard and the Magisters bowed beneath the power. Her knees struck the
ground abruptly, she couldn't remember why or what had brought her down, but
the clacking of her beaded chain sounded loudly in the roar that otherwise
comprised her immediate world.
Fingers caressed her jaw, lifting her chin, and abruptly she was gazing on
Lazerus Talmont who was looking down on her. For a mere moment, she thought
He had returned. She was back among the Knights in the Room of Rest, each
of whom writhed in agony.
"Would you save them still if they were being punished by Him?"
The tone was different. Darker, solemn, and the malicious glee was subdued.
She remembered what she had answered him with and in a tone to match, she
gazed up at him and whispered, "I would seek to return us to His favor."
He nodded and a solemn twist of his lips that might have passed for a smile
followed. Do what you know you must.
The shadows cleared then, a breathless pause in the ruinous power holding
the scene of Dae'tok's end in perpetuity, and she 'saw' with startling
clarity. Every instantaneous moment, seconds before catastrophic death.
The terror and hopelessness etched into the faces of the yinn took on a life
of its own, but most poignant were the Twins - Akenash and Akazi.
She could not comprehend how long they had been living and reliving this
moment but she was able to share a twisted sense of commiseration. The echo
of Skull Keep, locked in an accursed grip of time, had been both the Shadow
Knight's home and their prison when Necrucifer had turned from them.
Free us.
The conjoined command of their voices pierced through her mind like a hot
poker. That hadn't been why they came but it was what they were going to do
regardless. What would they unleash?
Laughter followed the question; unbidden, free, and entirely unsuitable for
the moment. She didn't care and in the complete lack of concern, all the
uncertainty and stress that had followed her into this hellish place
disappeared.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 52] Symantha: Lost City - Be Skeptical of All - IV
Mon Oct 12 18:03:32 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'Even now, in the stubbornness to follow to your bleeding hearts, you
breed further chaos in your independence. Lessons learned yet? I think
not.'
++--++
Complete mental focus was nigh impossible.
The shattering impact sped forward suddenly, everything crunching under it
and resetting with maddening acuity. She was driven down further beneath
the roiling Black Wind with a clipped cry caught between relish and pain.
The ground felt like static beneath her bare palms - whole one second and
shattered gravel the next. There was no wrapping one's sanity around the
concept, such was the punishing power of Necrucifer in this act.
Instead, she drew on the knowledge that had been forced into her mind. The
migraine was already blossoming to life over the center of her head but it
was a small matter next to what needed to be done.
Her power kindled and to Vincent she sent it. He was the only one standing
upright, ahead of them, but his form appeared caught between the crimsom
shadows of power bleeding from the star and the crushing moment, almost
tearing between each.
It would be his hands that freed the porous rock from the platform but she
intended to be ready for it. It wasn't much more than a sliver of clarity
she could offer the fiend but she knew it would be enough.
The Ark took priority next as she turned laboriously to look at it but
before she could act to lift it, she found herself gazing on a portal.
Where it lead to, she couldn't be certain but from it a vast wellspring of
power flooded forth. Rage and grief-filled thoughts of conquest filled her
mind, of subduing the so called 'Gods' on their high-and- mighty moons. Of
dominating the lands and the denizens, who had dared to kill their brother.
The Kindred would rule Algoron with this power, as was their right. As was
-their- right.
Confusion gripped her when she blinked and once again saw the Ark, her
purpose lost between Akenash and Akazi for several agonizing seconds.
Chanting drew her attention, she recognized Telthian's voice and had only to
look beside her to see the hammer set to the ground, the runes glimmering
darkly, to feel the emanating power as it built with ominous purpose.
She pushed herself back to her knees and grabbed for his arm as much for
stability as to discern what he was doing but, even in the action, she felt
something thick and warm coat her palms.
Foreboding set in as she lifted her hands to look on the blood that dripped
freely from each and beneath her, a child with lifeless eyes lay among
others - floating in a yellowish pit filled with their own sanguine essence.
All for nothing.
Her hands fisted as dark tendrils gripped her heart and soul, condeming her
with a certainty carved in stone, but she was who she was. There was no
going back.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 53] Rasavadi: The Wolves of Gohdam (10): A Departure
Mon Oct 12 18:07:38 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"When I speak of debts, I speak of oath's once sworn but not forgotten, "
he began. What was said next was largely lost as Rasavadi was enraptured by
The Hammer of the Eclipse's visage. An ancient design made of darksteel.
Many have scoffed at its old fashioned materials and design, but most did
not know its true purpose and power lied within the weapon itself.
Rasavadi's attention phased back into the present, "There are two things
more powerful than an oath, it is said, an oath broken and an oath avenged.
Tonight, we will see if the latter holds true. " Rasavadi had been
explained the plan, but frankly it had largely sounded like the wild goose
chases Vincent warned him about. A warning that had pecked at his faith in
the ancient Highlord, but he held true to his faith in God and in this...
Man, if you could call him that any longer.
"For this I can give freely to whom I chose, but to wield it.. That is
another thing. " Crelius turned, lifted his visor, and stared into
Rasavadi's eyes, "They must accept you, " Turning on his heal once again
Crelius ascended the mound and placed the hammer head down upon the ground.
"and for them to accept you, and allow your command, you must give them what
they have awaited millenia for... "
"Vengeance. "
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 54] Symantha: Lost City - Prophecy III
Mon Oct 12 18:18:29 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn ) Rasavadi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'...even in all the foundations of what Storm stands on, the vision,
the oath, the code....there is no mention of Necrucifer. Only Darkness.
A darkness that I, by my moon, create and have created since the beginning
of time.'
++--++
Cold, dark water surrounded the Shadow Knight. Purple lightning arced
violently over the surface of the waves that fell further and further away
as he sank, dragged down by an unfathomable force.
The violence of the seas could still be felt, even in the depths. Bodies
and debris floated by, she knew his lungs burned, but what pulled at him -
she knew - could not be denied. She watched it all from above, warring with
loss and acceptance.
She had taken him..
Her head shook and a tight cry ranging anger and frustration issued forth.
This time the confusion did not take hold and she turned to reach out to the
Ark. Shadows coalesced around the handles and, closing her fist, she bade
it edge forward to free the Shadowguard and the Magisters it had fallen on.
She had long lost track of de Vere but it was clear to her that if they did
not contain the star, soon, not a one of them would leave this place.
The bulky construction settled heavily to the ground just as an overwhelming
pulse of red overtook her. She heard a demonic snarl issue from Vincent, a
gritted maddened hungry sound from Telthian...
The pitted, etched, barren landscape stretched on for boundless miles.
Nothing arose in any direction to break the monotony and were it not for the
many mortals of Algoron - ranging the spectrum of Light through Dark, giant
and dragon through to the diminutive kender and pixie - there would have
been absolutely nothing to define it other than black ground and dust.
Her gaze was drawn skyward, whereupon the Gods warred. Titanic clashes of
weapons deafened, eruptions of power followed - Light devastatingly
overpowering Dark while horrendous ripples of unbridled black and purple
lightning issued forth in retaliation.
It wasn't until the Gods, so many of them, began to fall though that the
horror took hold. Rips rent the Light and Dark alike, tearing through the
fabric of everything she knew until a blinding explosion rendered everything
null. Austinian was gone, but so too were...
Her consciousness hung by a thread but oblivion was not part of the
prescribed torment. Punishment lie in the opposite - in the denial of final
rest - of reliving the end ad infinitum and that was exactly what began to
happen again.
...or would have.
The red aurora extinguished. One moment there, beneath her very eyelids -
infusing her mind - and the next, blessed darkness and into it sounded the
war cry: "Restinguere Solem!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 55] Symantha: Lost City - Death is Patient
Mon Oct 12 18:28:17 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn ) Rasavadi
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'To shed our own blood, we do gratefully with understanding and
acceptance. We must do better, both for Him and for this world. This is no
fruitless endeavor we seek.'
++--++
The world erupted into gritty, real chaos.
The chill of undeath passed by all around her and upon opening her eyes, she
witnessed a sight perhaps not seen since the long forgotten days of Eclipse
- when Targetter had first set hands on the Codex.
The Highlord, bound in midnight blue, wielding the hammer she had long
observed at Sir Crelius Atennim's side and surrounded by death knights. The
ground was shaking, though she wondered briefly if that was just her, and
the titanic battle ensuing between the freed Court of Dae'tok and Eclipse
all but deafened her to anything that might have been said by anyone around
her.
Vincent stood immobile beside the closed Ark, heedless of what occurred on
the platform that she acknowledged was even then crumbling. She had fallen
back to her hands and knees at some point but it was Telthian who helped her
up and retreat became the next immediate need.
She was horribly drained but the mission, survival, demanded and she took up
an Ark handle beside Telthian even as Vincent - stirred now to action by
some means - grabbed both at the back.
The last of the Shadowguard and the Magisters who could manage it struggled
up as well, giving aid where they could both with the Ark and each other.
They were moving back out of the double doors they had entered when Rasavadi
D'Aerthe joined them. Blood spattered and undoubtedly changed, he
nonetheless took up the last handle of the Ark and the headlong rush out of
the Lost City began in earnest.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 60] Rasavadi: The Wolves of Gohdam (13): The Long Dark Begins
Wed Oct 14 22:28:15 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It seemed so simple. Ascend the mound and claim the hammer. Claim what
was his by right many would say... It was not going to be so simple. The
hammer had refused him before and would do so again. For he was not worthy.
Rasavadi stripped himself of weapons and shield they would not be needed
this night. As he began to ascend the hill to approach the hammer he looked
to the blackened hole that once was Necrucifer's constellation. Though he
could no longer see Her moon directly he knew from the positions of the
other constellations right where it was... Rising through the empty void.
Turning his attention to the task at hand he approached the hammer. As he
got closer a sound as if there was actual a wind in this gods forsaken place
could be heard from several distinct, yet moving, directions. He could
almost make out words or so his senses made him think.
Narrowing his eyes he ascended the small rise to within a couple of feet of
the hammer. The sounds now were swirling and angry. He could feel the
unholy energy of the weapon lashing out at micro-organisms in the air and
soil destroying those unworthy to touch the sacred leather and metal.
Coming within a foot's distance he dropped to his knees in the now sterile
soil.
The "winds" were raging around him now yet not a leaf fell from above or ash
from the burnt foliage around the hammer twitched in the slightest. The
surroundings may as well have been frozen in time except for his heartbeat
which he could also hear hammering at the plate steel of his breastplate.
"Deceiver... Unworthy... Imposter... ," Came words now within the wind
each in their distinct voices. "Traitor... Slave.. Betrayer, Whore
monger... ," They swirled faster, and faster, eventually blurring into one
another.
"Enough! " Rasavadi yelled and closed his eyes tightly enough to cause pain
in his warp torn and melted flesh. Slowly the winds and voices calmed back
down, and the rippling, crackling of dark energy of the hammer followed
suit. He opened his eyes once again and blinked through the tears in his
eyes and reached for the hammer.
As if waiting for this the entire time the hammer lashed out at him. Black
tendrils of energy wound their way up his arm discharging their disgust and
rage through the cracks in his armor scorching his perpetually wounded skin.
Laughs could be heard now in the winds and through his scream of pain he
could make out an aurora around the black moon as if the Queen herself was
laughing.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 82] Rasavadi: The Wolves of Gohdam (14): Challenge for Power
Wed Oct 21 19:43:37 2020
To: Shadow Verminasia Eclipse All Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rasavadi awoke, but he was no longer on some hill in a forgotten land.
Instead he was in a mausoleum. What little light there was was from far off
torches, and he could make out several sarcophagi with columbarium recesses
behind them.
As his eyes adjusted to the failing light he noticed that there were no
cobwebs only dust, and in that dust no foot prints except for the outline of
where he laid and steadied himself trying to get up. His joints were stiff
and a deep chill lay in his bones as if he had laid there for some time.
"d'Aerthe, so we meet again would be 'HighLord', " came a thin, mocking
voice in the distance.
Rasavadi spun quickly into a fighting stance and drew his weapons.
"It is a wonder your parents sent you to the Conclave with that attitude,"
came the voice again. "I was surprised you weren't cast into the ocean upon
birth. "
"Show yourself coward!" He growled in response while scanning the area for
the true source of the voice which echoed amongst the dead.
"You act as though you've never been here before. "
"I have been in many tombs in my day, but I recognize this place not."
"Do you not? Just more proof that you never belonged here the first time
let alone a second... -faked exasperated sigh- Fineee, I grow tired of
this already, " the voice was growing more irritable. Suddenly lighted
torches appeared in the sconces momentarily blinding Rasavadi.
After a moment of adjustment Rasavadi's eyes focused on a sarcophagus
immediately before him and saw his own family crest was upon it. Everywhere
around him where sarcophagi with names, crests and banners known and
unknown. D'Fale, dra'Har, Attenim, etc the halway seemed to stretch into
infinity. Turning his attention back to his familial tomb he quickly
searched for his parents' inurment.
"Taking count are we? They are not here the tombs were sealed during during
the diaspora. Or are we looking for a reserved seat? -raspy chuckling-
You'd acutally have to earn the honor to be buried here boy! "
Charging from self created shadows came a "man" in ancient, burnt knights
armor. Rasavadi was frozen in place. He had seen those facimilies the
Skull Knights summoned, but had only heard stories of this particular one...
The one named Maven.
A plated and mailed skeletal hand grasped Rasavadi by the throat, which was
suddenly bare of armor, and the deep chill of the undead froze his vocal
cords.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 89] Symantha: Lost City - The Darkest Path
Wed Oct 28 23:28:40 2020
To: Telthian Vincent Rasavadi ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I would have your voice as a strong current of the Darkness that grows
anew under my moon. To be the cresting flood that will reconstruct the
landscape with its suffocating power yet in its aftermath, the energy that
rises as brilliant and full as the moon itself."
++--++
The road had been hard and bloody, it had taken more than it had given.
They all wore the scars, inside and out.
...and here they were.
The passages passed by in a blurred rush, details sparse as the ground
shook. No one spoke, breath rushed in the dark - heralded by unwavering
footsteps and a deep sense of taxation.
You once spoke 'If one cannot lead the Darkness through respect, through
faith, fear becomes the next viable option. But if one cannot command even
through fear, what then.'
Pale illumination lifted, kindled by the Dark Lord and herself. Pain
encompassed her head but she bore it in silence, alongside the lingering
struggle to rise from the remnants of the red aurora whispering through her
mind.
They do not, nor have they ever, feared the sword. What they fear, are
monsters. What the lands need now are not heroes, Priestess, but monsters.
The words, real or imagined, whispered through her consciousness and as she
shifted the weight of the Ark she glanced at Telthian and mindfully took in
the presence of Vincent and Rasavadi.
She walked apace with those who's capacity for monstrousness was unrefuted.
They had all slain the children. They had all embraced the darkest of
paths, if they had not simply been born of it. They -were- monsters, but
had they all accepted it? Could they be more?
Do not let the sacrifice stand for nothing. Use it. Remind them...of who...
and what...they are...
There was no slowing, no uncertainty on the path they tread. They all knew,
it seemed, unerringly where to go and how best to get there. Cold sweat
made her robes stick uncomfortably, the strain made her ache from head to
toe, but she was determined to stand with them.
To finish this.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 93] Rasavadi: The Wolves of Gohdam (15): Mori Juramento
Sat Oct 31 11:48:56 2020
To: Crelius Shadow Verminasia All Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tendris of frost snuck through the scales of his armor. Slitering like
eels past the protective plates and freeze drying the protective gel that
kept his warp melted flesh from being exposed to the elements. As if
knowing they had finally touched bare flesh they changed from seeking
tendrils to bolts of lightning and raced throughout his armor.
The pain was meant to blind Rasavadi, and for a while it worked. Slowly,
but surely, he centered his mind and embraced the pain. Letting it flow
over and around him. Opening his eyes he looked into the empty pits of
Maven's helm and said, "Who are you to judge me... Slave? "
The figure of Maven began to waver as the illusion unfurled, as did the
Eclipsian Tomb around him. Replaced by the grove where he had been all
along.
The Hammer was still there resting upon the hillside, but infront of him was
the incorporeal form of ancient Yaenni warrior, and behind it a veritable
horde of armor clad knights all wearing the same midnight-blue cape he
himself wore. Off to the side was the death knight Maven in his barely
servicable, hollow armor shell with glowing red eyes pulsing in rage.
The Highlord's spoke in unison. A choir of hallow, yet powerful, voices.
"d'Aerthe who would be Highlord. Many have attempted your path, all have
failed, why should we believe any different of you? "
Rasavadi kneeled before the ghost of Vokkyn. "You shouldn't. All are
subject to verification. But I vow to you this: You will have your revenge.
The rift between the Eclipse and Storm sewn. "
So focused on the meeting Rasavadi had not noticed the chaos erupting around
him. The very earth raged around him, and the peak of the mountain behind
the Temple of Gojira had caved in with a fountain of boiling lava showering
the countryside.
"Then rise Highlord and take what is yours. "
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[113] Nehtur: Lost City - Nordmaar's View - Quelling the Ghul
Tue Nov 3 20:18:20 2020
To: Nordmaar Shadow Verminasia Necrucifer ( Imm Religion )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A couple of weeks had passed since the Army and Marine soldiers had left
the gates of Nordmaar on their patrols for the Ghul. Since the initial
attacks seven warrens had been found, each one cleared of any occupants
sealed and burned. Nehtur prayed these actions would keep his people safe
and block off other exits driving the Ghul back towards the Lost City if
they could not cull them all. At the same time, he hoped those at the lost
city could handle any extra enemies headed back towards them.
An officer rode up next to Nehtur he had news that the remaining Ghul forces
were trapped in a warren within the Blackwood forest. The King nodded
ordering his men to move faster to keep the enemies from slipping out of
their grip. A thousand Nordmaarian soldiers both Army and Marine circled
the warren with weapons drawn ready to chase down any enemies that try to
make a run past the blockade. Nehturs grip tightened on his sword, watching
as a company of mages move cautiously towards the entrance of the warren.
The mages began chanting in unison summoning a massive fireball and sending
it through the air heading into the mouth of the cave.
"Perhaps it will be this easy. " This thought crossed Nehturs mind before a
group of Ghul burst out of the flames rushing towards the awaiting soldiers.
Screams of both Soldiers and Ghul rang out as weapons sliced through their
flesh and claws cut through armor. The battle was bloody and lasted through
the night into the first rays of daylight. As the last of the Ghul fell
Nehtur looks around to see that many of his had fallen as well however the
majority still remained, with a small sigh of relief that the day was won
the King ordered all the bodies piled the Ghul in one, and the Highlanders
in a second. As the last of the corpses were added to the pile Nehtur
released the soldiers to return home if they wished he would stay and pay
his respects to all of his fallen men.
Nehtur kneeled with his head bowed praying for each of the men that he lost,
he would never forget the sacrifice his people made to protect the rest of
the Kingdom. The soldiers around him slowly dwindled until Nehtur was alone
with the smoldering ashes of the fires. Rising from prayer the King offered
a final salute to all those lost before turning to head back to the
Highlands.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[118] Eevelline: Lost City - "Acting Lunatic of the Eclipse."
Fri Nov 6 21:33:45 2020
To: Drakkara Carrionmaw Symantha Vincent Rasavadi Riordan Verminasia Shadow Eclipse All ( Imm Cayenna RP Religion Storyline )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'See that it is done, Volar. We're close to getting out of here, and we
will be leaving with a bang- also with the win. ' Eevelline sips slowly at
a steaming mug, using both hands to hold it as she looks over an open map on
a salvaged table. A subtle twitch forms within the gnome's shoulders as she
sips, but does not seem to carry on fully after.
'As you wish, Voice. I will inform Atennim's cannon crew of the demolitions
to come. ' The elf bows his head lightly, and departs after an about-face.
Volar looks the somewhat-ruined stairs necessary for his departure, almost
judging where and when he should step. A few risky creaks and groans later,
the gnome is alone with her map.
Another sip of the mug ensues, then the gnome trades cup for map and looks
over her handiwork. A small checklist is written next to the map's key.
The to-do list reads: "X Scout for entrances", followed by "X Mark
containment targets". The final to-do is "Shell the city post-retreat."
'Oooh. It's all coming to an end? Lame- I was beginning to enjoy your
stress and misery. ' A small yet lacerated hand neatly pulls the map
downward. The doppleganger tilts her head and smiles wide- pushing her
physical counterpart's glasses up. 'You're starting to wear your heart on
your sleeve, sister. How many died today? ' With a sharp tug at the map,
the alterform looks it over as she paces around.. Though the map is upside
down as she does so.
Eevelline sighs and grabs her mug once more, shaking her head. 'Twelve.
Four humans, three elves, and the other five were yinn- why am I explaining
myself to -you-? You're not real. ' The gnome heads for a large window,
opting to observe the ruins of Dae'tok that are either in or out of her
control.
'Is that so? Well.. I suppose you won't mind if I do this-' The
doppleganger angles a corner of the map toward the webbing between thumb and
pointer finger- then she just rips her flesh along the page. A sizeable
papercut forms, which makes the alterform grin.
'AH! ' Eevelline drops her steaming mug of coffee and looks to her hand,
noting the fresh and somewhat painful papercut on her own hand. 'Fair
point, fair point. What do you want -now-? We've been working together for
a long while now- I'm not giving you anything else unless you bring
something to trade. '
The alterform cacklesnorts- taking playful steps closer to Eevelline at the
window. 'The prize is calling to us.. To -you-. If it was able to reach
The Maw and super-spooky friends? Imagine what it will do to you. We have
a way out of this.. If you desire such things. ' Alter-Eeve grins from
behind her physical form, now pinching the papercut closed out of courtesy.
'I have already felt it's effects.. Since you are me, and I am you- what do
we propose to do then? Speak quickly, before someone sees how absolutely
absurd I look talking to myself. ' Eevelline looks her hand over, pleased
that the papercut's bloodflow has been stopped.
'I think you said it best, sister- ... The self is a prison, from which we
have escaped. How cold and lonely it must be to be anything less. ' The
alterform plants a soft kiss to Eevelline's cheek, and fades away.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[126] Symantha: Fallen Stars
Thu Nov 12 01:01:49 2020
To: All Shadow Telthian Rasavadi Crelius ( Drakkara Necrucifer RP Storyline Cayenna Admin Imm Religion )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The wind howled, rising and falling angrily as it buffeted the solid
black Keep and its battlements. Accompanying the sound was the hissing of
sand as it grated across every outer wall, closed windows and doors.
The wind was hot despite the dusty reddish hued dark that shadowed the sky
and an otherwise heavy silence gripped the halls.
Tension was strung tight, an ominous weight so thick one could practically
cut through it and she knew her words did not ease anyone. Not anymore.
Mortal nature was struggling against its own perceptions, its mortal-bound
understanding, of what they had lost and what was left. The concept of
devotion was being put to the ultimate test, and just what exactly they were
devoted to.
No one had ever had to address the questions that were arising now and it
showed in the visceral responses issuing forth.
She listened to the wind from the Chamber of Theology while gazing on an
hourglass. The crystal was pristinely clear, the wooden base dark and solid
and the sands within were black with tiny diamonds throughout. As it fell
into the lower portion, it appeared as stars cascading endlessly through the
dark and she was drawn to simply watch in silence.
Her mind was anything but though.
The pieces were being knocked off the chess board, there were few left, and
many of those had no desire to press forward.
The pain in her head alerted her to the tightness of her jaw and clenched
teeth. Perpetual restlessness drove her up, out of her chair, and sent her
through the cold halls. The torches flickered in their scones, the dry
scent of the desert storm infusing the Keep, but these were separate
observations. The frustration that had been seething in her had twisted,
binding itself to a dark commitment that she was going to carry forward -
that she was going to drive forward with Abbott Schwartz, no matter how the
Darkness kicked and struggled.
"I'm coming for you."
The sinister promise followed her as she swept assuredly through the empty
Chamber of Rest and descended the stairwell beyond. She had known that
Drakkara's words, that the Goddess' message, would provoke the old guard -
among others. She had anticipated this. The cold vengeance.
"I know."
Sir Lansear, ancient and undying as he was, barely stirred from before the
altar. She could feel the death knight's gaze on her as she passed by, her
destination further beneath the Keep itself. She paused though, to observe
the contorted and corrupted symbols of Nadrik and Austinian.
"She will have it all, death knight." She spoke to the Corrupter's cold
stare and turned to meet it. "Whether they will it or not."
"And you both will give it to Her." He claimed, his voice raspy and
uninflected. There was no condescension or judgment. Her nod was slow but
firm. "So be it, Cardinal."
He arose from before the altar at which he knelt and with the cold scent of
old blood sacrifice stirring around her, he opened the pathway she intended
to take.
The room she settled in was cold but dry and surrounded by ancient tombs set
into the rock walls. Her true purpose hovered in the air, centered in the
middle of the chamber within a series of abyssal symbols. An otherworldly
chill radiated outward from its black binding and as she approached it, she
waved a somatic gesture. To the soft sound of a locking mechanism clicking,
the outer binding parted and the pages rustled open to the last composition.
Runes glimmered with baleful purpose on the page and she recognized the
scrawl as the Dark Lord's. These would continue to pave the way for what
was coming and with a tight exhale, she withdrew a quill and ink to continue
the work.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 33] Eevelline: Collective
Tue Nov 24 23:24:13 2020
To: Drakkara Geirhart Fynix Zarina Mercerion Kyrlynn Andreyna Rahma All ( Cayenna Imm RP Religion )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The evening was quiet, and full of introspection in the lavish Temple of
Dark Magick. A few acolytes are sweeping between the pews, and two of them
are refueling the iron torches that provide ambient lighting. They work in
silence, carrying out their tasks without issue. A short figure floats
about the rafters of the temple, her eyes scanning various missives. All is
well, and nothing is going wrong. The gnome tosses a missive to the side,
watching it now float about her person- as she opens up another. The stamp
on it causes her to frown, yet she reads on.
Everything was so peaceful... Until a loud screech fills the rafters.
'AAAAAHHH! NO! NOPE NOPE NOPE! NOT HAPPENING! ACOLYTES- WE HAVE WORK TO
DO TOMORROW! '
Eevelline lands quickly, opting to stand beneath the Dark Lady's lovely
statue on it's opulent pedestal. The dusky purple moon on her forehead
flares with bright color as the gnome pulls her glasses off her face. The
gnome looks to the acolytes as they assemble in a half-circle around her,
noting their concerned expressions.
'What is it, Voice- pardon, Selenic Guard? What has happened? ' A young
half-elf woman peers down at the gnome, tilting her head with great
interest.
'Geirhart is going to lead the other cities in prayer. Their goal? To
"cleanse" the maladies on the world, no doubt. We're going to counter them.
-ALL- of them. ' Eevelline's eyes dilate now that her glasses are off of
her face, the pupils nearly eclipsing what color lies at the edges. 'Give
me twelve of you, that are not injured. I'll not have wounded veterans of
Dae'tok going where we're going incase of a fight. '
'Why? You said so yourself- they're not going anywhere! The Dark Lady will
not allow it! ' A half-ogre flails his arms about, a small hint of
frustration in his voice.
'If we do nothing and they succeed- She will not be pleased! We have to! '
A human woman speaks, her hands going to her hips as she looks to her
acolyte compatriots. 'But.. Won't we need more people? '
Eevelline shakes her head, looking to the gathered acolytes. 'We're thin as
is- perhaps every other member of Darkness will hear us tomorrow and join
in. We will succeed- it is our time to shine. Even if we fail, they're not
getting what they want without a fight. '
'What hope do we have, Eevelline? Four cities, against.. What- us? How
will we know when to counter them? ' The half-ogre speaks again, taking a
knee to be at the gnome's eye-level. 'We should trust in Her. She will not
allow it. They're going to need more than prayers to erase the cataclysms.
'We -will- do this, everyone. This is the time we chip in, once more. I
called all of you to Dae'tok for All Darkness? Now I call once more to go
with me tomorrow. I'll pen missives, we can counter this. If anything-
perhaps we can disrupt their work with our own magics. If we have to, we'll
dig that blood river deeper, that sinkhole- and we'll wade through that muck
and spread it further. If any of you do not show? Sleep with one eye open,
because I'm coming for you when you least expect it. She will be pleased,
that we are safeguarding Her Works. Her Sons will work with us as well- we
just have to try. '
The acolytes murmur amongst themselves, talking about the possibilities to
come. One by one, they nod and kneel- all of them looking to Eevelline at
her eye-level.
The half-ogre nods once after considering the possibilities- and then
smiles. 'So be it. What hope do they have, when All Darkness stands
against them? '
A chorus erupts within Drakkara's Temple- the chanting of each acolyte
adding volume and vigor. 'WHAT HOPE DO THEY HAVE, WHEN ALL DARKNESS STANDS
AGAINST THEM! '
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 46] Crelius: Atennim's War: The Wolves of Gohdam (16)
Thu Dec 3 00:50:53 2020
To: Rasavadi Shadow Eclipse All Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The shrieking pain in his head gave way to a dull hum of consciousness.
Droplets pelted his countenance awake. Slowly at first, increasing in
brevity with the quickness of a mustering tempest. Lifting his head, he
exhaled sharply and looked about the rubble he had awoken upon. His armor,
chastened now from a forced fall, was dusted with shattered stone. With a
pained grunt he rummaged himself to his knees, grasping his temples with a
sigh and wiping bloodied soot and rain from his eyes.
As his vision cleared he looked towards the sky in both reverence and
reluctance. Gazing not at the ravaged mountain side of which he had flown,
but above it. Twinkling constellations were snuffed out by the germinating
roll of blackened clouds. Hurried wind gusted in gales of warning, and the
first crack of lightning split the black horizon. Illuminating the savage
valleys in stark luminescence.
Urgency crept up his spine as the awareness of what was to come overtook
him. Gritting his teeth he stood to his feet. With a hastened glance
about, he realised his helm and shield were void of his possession. There
was no time now, he thought to himself. As he moved with wounded alacrity,
towards the object he had placed upon the hillside, some distance away.
The winds and rain grew stronger with every step. Debris from the forested
canopies began to whirl about the valley violently. Unnerving the
struggling knight as he pushed through the torrential rainfall. Lightning
became more frequent as he drew closer to his destination. The thunder that
followed grew unnatural in its resonance. Echoing through the jungle vales
with a cacophony akin to laughter.
His chest heaved beneath his breastplate from labored breaths as he
approached the solitary rise. The downpour pummeled the already damp earth.
Creating a muddied mess of ground beneath the knee-high tropical
undergrowth. Through the flashing lightning, now crashing in what seemed a
perpetual tempo, he could see the figure of the armored Yinn in the
foreground.
"D'Aerthe!" Atennim shouted, his voice muffled through the raucous chorus
of the storm at hand.
Rasavadi, seeming to break from a trance like state, snapping his attention
suddenly upon Atennim. Offering an assuring nod, water cascading down the
snout of his lupine helm. The flashing light revealing his red dragon scale
platemail in and out of view.
"Ready yourself, DAerthe. Mind of what I told you..." Crelius shouted to
the Yinn in a tone that was both commanding and erratic. Pausing before the
Yinn warrior, he leaned in closer, assuring his words would be understood.
"When the moment comes, you will know, Vengeance is a powerful gift,"
Atennim spoke, pursing his lips for a moment and casting a final critical
glance towards Rasavadi.
He turned and marched up the slick and muddied slope, his shoulder length
hair, shock white and wet, whipped wildly in the violent gusts. His war
marked blue-dragon plate, sheened with a deep indigo in the havoc of the now
constant lightning strikes. Small streams forming and flowing with their
own micro vicissitudes. Above he could see the blackened maul resting where
he had left it. A blackened silhouette framed by the chaotic flashes of the
unnatural storm. Its maul upon the earth, and its haft standing up in
defiance to the maelstrom around it.
With a slowed determination he reached the top of the muddied bluff.
Standing atop the earthen promontory, the tempest above him broke upon him
from all fronts. His eyes were fixed to the tumultuous sky above. Wrapping
a gauntleted palm about the haft of the fabled hammer. He lifted it from
the ground ever so slightly, and felt once again the weighted presence its
legacy therein.
"Jormungander!" Crelius yelled into the midnight storm. His shout cracking
through the roiling furor like a synaptic whip.
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[ 47] Crelius: Atennim's War: The Wolves of Gohdam (17)
Thu Dec 3 00:59:40 2020
To: Rasavadi Shadow Eclipse All Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the name was cast into the tempest, a thunder clap reminiscent of the
gods resounded. So mighty in its power, the shadowknight braced his hammer
into the earth to repulse its fury. For a moment the air and the storm
wavered silent and still. An uneasy calm that lasted a fleeting moment.
Broken by the cacophonous laughter that shook the very ground of the jungle
expanse. Lightning, of which Turpa would envy, lashed and struck in a
chorus of annihilation. The cliff walls in the distance shook and crumbled
at the tempest's potency.
Atennim barely held steady, his gauntlets gripping the top of the hammers
haft to retain control of his footing. In intransigent vigil he held his
gaze steady, into what he knew was the eye at the center of this apocalyptic
hurricane.
"Crelus..." The word echoed in symbiosis with the rumbling drawls of the
thunder.
Hearing the voice, Crelius took a soldiers grip upon the hammer. Lifting it
now to the parallel of his side. Narrowing his gaze upon the source of his
true name spoken. For a brief second, the massive silhouette of a draconic
skull revealed itself in the sky, then faded to the void. From the darkness
two flickers of electric spark began to crackle. The eyes of the great
storm stared down upon him like balls of lightning.
As the wind and rain surged once again, Crelius gripped the black metal
handle of the ancient maul with both his hands. A hallowed calm cast across
his weathered features, despite an open wound on his brow and his rain
soaked countenance. He breathed deep as he began to utter a phrase he had
not spoken for nearly a lifetime.
"Te occidere possunt est edere non possunt nefas est," His words rolled in a
gravelled tone, at first, then grew with rising clarity. As he spoke he
felt the old whispers of the Ceriloch within his mind. Distant, at first.
And with the frigidness of an ancient and stygian evil, it rose like an
uncoiling serpent. Physically he felt the bleak power of undeath touch his
fingertips, and felt its void like presence manifest outward from the hammer
of Eclipse.
The ignuus fatuus. Fell-fire that burned cold, and was of the essence
unmade spirits. It wept now from the hammer in a perilous faunt. Spreading
out through the ancient maul like creeping death, despoiling and withering
the ground beneath it. Moving with its seemingly own intention, it seeped
down, encompassing the promontory on which he stood. Until it blanketed the
area beneath, including the foothold of Rasavadi, in ethereal mist.
Instantly the air in the field grew frigid, and the raging storm was halted
by impermeable cold. The stinging rain froze instantly and shattered. The
damp, tropical gales erupting into plumes of exasperated fog.
And from the amorphous mists stepped into being dark figures. Ancient and
blackened in their armaments. Each one bound in raiments long forgotten.
Skeletal vestiges, some once perhaps human, others Yaenni, each with eyes of
burning hellfire. Primeval knights bound in servitude for eternity in
immortal death. One by one they stepped through the veil, heeding the call
and summon of the last highlord, and stood upon the field at malevolent
attention.
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[ 48] Crelius: Atennim's War: The Wolves of Gohdam (18)
Thu Dec 3 01:02:58 2020
To: Rasavadi Shadow Eclipse All Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rasavadi stood among them in incredulous fervor. Looking about in near
disbelief as his visions were made manifest. The Ceriloch had been
summoned, the mythic power of the Hammer of Eclipse was true. Now was the
time for him to prove his rightfulness... But surely, he thought to
himself, what now was to come?
D'aerthe looked upward at the solitary figure standing up upon the jutted
rise. Atennims gaze had not moved from the point of his attention, despite
the unfathomable host that he had called into being. The icy field parted
away from the Shadowknight, perhaps upon command. Allowing the storm to
continue its punishing torrent upon him.
"I see now," The thundering words of the ancient storm boomed out with a
thunderclap once again. And for the first time Daerthe caught a glimpse of
the titanic draconic silhouette. Blotting out the sky, and only visible for
an instant through the perilous storm clouds. Its eyes, orbs of lightning
each the size of a smaller wyrms skull, looking down in foreboding warning.
He had never seen, in all his days, a thing so monstrous.
Atennim looked to be meeting the stare of the ancient dragon. And for one
brief instant, he turned his head for one critical glance at Rasavadi.
Before returning his attention above, and drawing the hammer above his head.
Pointing it towards the eyes of the storm. "Bow!" He shouted, his warcry
piercing through the abominable maelstrom in challenge.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 51] Rasavadi: The Wolves of Gohdam (19): Dead But Dreaming
Fri Dec 4 21:43:04 2020
To: Crelius Shadow Eclipse All Imm RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He had reached for the Hammer to "take what is his" and fell through the
ground. For how long he fell there was no accounting for, but panic gripped
his bowels for he knew right what he was falling back into, the realm of the
Aspects of Sin.
The roar of the wind howled through his helm. Bits of chain mail, plate,
and dragon scales stripped and raced behind him as the acidic air melted
through their connections. It wasn't long before it crept its way through
the joints eating its way through the protective gel lining which created a
hermetic seal to protect his melted flesh from the elements, and quickly
began to do the same to his already sensitive skin. Horrific as this was
Rasavadi knew it was only the beginning, and this time there wasn't a realm
full of people to bring him back from the decades of torture that were
waiting for him. No, this time it would be a true eternity.
Lightning flashed through the sky all around him, but there was no thunder.
Confused he flipped himself around in the air to identify the source, but
none could be found. Nothing be the howl of the wind, and the monotonous,
amorphis orange and purple sky that was typical of this realm until one
reached the bottom. Between the silent bolts, he thought he could hear a
voice. Louder and louder the sound got, but the words themselves could not
be discerned.
Finally, as the last of the armor peeled off his body, and his skin started
to dissolve in earnest, he heard but one word. "D'Aerthe! " Darkness
quickly filled his vision, and thunder could be heard. He was still
standing before the Hammer drenched in rain with burning missiles of
mountain raining all around him.
"Ready yourself... When the moment comes... Vengeance is a powerful gift.
"
"Indeed it is, for you can have little understanding of what yours saved me
from."
Crelius nodded quizzically, ascended the promontory, and called out
"Jormungander! "
The lightning answered back... "Crelus... " and it was not happy. Flying
out of the center of the maelstrom came a monstrous dracolich. He had seen
them before of course, being Master of the Conclave at one time, but this
was a different sort of horror entirely. Words he knew, but dared never
utter, broke him from his trance.
"Te occidere possunt est edere non possunt nefas est." There were various
translations of this laying around, "By extinguishing the sun, may we die
free from sin", and "That which we slay, sin hath no power to consume" being
the most popular. Far fewer knew their purpose and weight, and until that
moment, Rasavadi was one of them.
A burning cold replaced the normal crackly of unholy lightning that
surrounded the hammer. The torrential downpour turned to hail and snow
creating a creeping deadly fog that slid down the promontory freezing
Rasavadi's boots to the muck.
He was glad his boots were frozen to the ground, and his armor frigid, or he
would have fallen over in rapture as the Ceriloch emerged from the mists.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[ 52] Symantha: Tidal Unease
Sun Dec 6 03:33:15 2020
To: Carrionmaw RP
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She stood in the quiet night before the yawning cavern and gazed upward.
The Black Moon cast no light but its cadence could be felt in the high
sanction as it reigned above. It wasn't simply a void in the
diamond-studded black and what she felt dug deep and coiled - relentless.
It was the equivalence of unease, a restless tidal energy in the blood, but
not the unpleasantness of the heavy frustration that had sat her shoulders
like an anchor.
The glass in her hand was smooth, the caramel-colored bourbon lukewarm, the
taste as rich as she had anticipated - wholly enjoyable - and she savored it
alongside the ease it brought to the tension she had been nursing most of
the day.
The gift of the moment was his, as was the alcohol, and the thought drew her
attention from the riveting sight above to the cavern behind. Heat could be
felt drifting outward and she was drawn back by it.
The disquiet followed and she distinctly felt the moment she left the sight
of the moon - as if going from energizing sunlight to empty shade. The
table was her destination and as she reached it, her glass settled with a
soft clink and she placed her hands to its smoky obsidian top. Her head
lowering, she finally acknowledged her rage though pure exhaustion followed.
It made sense, she reasoned in silence.
Fatale encompassed rage as readily as murder now, and she had plenty to
spare beneath the typically careful calm exterior. The rite had likely
helped tweak at the strings that had grown taut over the expanse of the
day.
Her exhale was hard, heavy, and chagrinned before she lifted the bourbon to
finish it. Her turn toward the western quarter and subsequent pacing was
marked only by the clenching of her fist and the fatal sound of an imp
cracking before she passed beyond the bookshelf.
She had joked about the tub and it caught her eye in its corner as she moved
beyond the desk but the bed was all she had the energy for.
Eschewing all else, she simply sat its edge and then proceeded to curl up in
its midst.
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[ 58] Kaerick: Lost City - Plagueborn : The Work of Madness
Thu Dec 10 18:44:01 2020
To: Verminasia Shadow Bloodlust ( All Cayenna Xenophon Dragoth Imm Religion )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 1:
I am writing this diary to track my progress. I do not know what will
become of these specimens called Ghul brought to me by the Prophet but we
will see.
Both specimens are chained by arcanium bonds to a slab. Their forms are
yinnae but wrong. Their undeath has given them a more canine appearance.
Loss of hair is evident, patches of flesh are missing but seem not to harm
them. A black ichor oozes rather than blood.
Stories say they are ruled by a hive mind. That is a poor analogy as they
have no mind. They are more like extensions, an arm or leg of some being.
There is nothing behind their dead eyes that could be called intelligent.
Their actions are purely instinct to kill.
Day 3:
I have not experimented yet on their physical forms. I have reached out to
the spirits of my ancestors to see into the other world. There is, as best
I can describe, a shadowy tether that binds them to their owner. The
distance of Verminasia to Icewall has thinned this connection to but a wisp
however it is there. My estimation is that now they are no different than a
scrying pool. They are eyes but the power to command them is lost.
I have poked and prodded this connection spiritually and mentally. I sense
that it would be possible to use it as a conduit back. However, this is not
my goal. Tomorrow I will begin the physical examination.
Day 10
These Ghul are remarkable creations. Limbs continue to function after being
removed. However the key has been the ichor. The fluid within them is
magical in nature. It suppresses the decaying process, in Icewall this
process would stop completely in combination with the cold.
I believe it also acts as a magical infection. Those slain by the ghul rise
as new ghul. There is something that binds the victim to the one mind. If
the ichor is drained, the ghul is effectively dead, regeneration ceases.
Perhaps a curse of some sort. Something akin to lycanthropy. Hmm, study in
Gathna may be warranted.
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[ 61] Telthian: Lost City - Within the Infinite Night - I
Mon Dec 14 14:14:38 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"How could I have fathomed the hateful scorn and the hemorrhage of faith
from even the anointed champions of the Sanctum. They will decry what I do
now as treachery while the rust of inaction grows upon their plate, their
sword-arms limp and impotent as they fled from their duty long before
Drakkara set foot in Storm Keep. Faith in Prophecy dictates this is the
only way. "
-*-
The unctuous dark crashed down upon them with the force and potency of
frigid arctic waves. Torn from the broken mosaic floor, the crimson aurora
ripped through the silver court of Daetok, piercing through the body and
soul of Shadowknights and the ghul court alike. Malformed by the misintent
Necrucifers wrathful curse, the twin emperors were nightmare made material,
towering fierce and terrible. Centuries of torment produced these twisted
and maniacal amalgam of souls, spectral chains from the star of their doom
shackling them to their pain prisoners driven mad, trapped in an obilette
between life and death.
Remnants of fused glass and stone fell away from the stygian artefact and
gale threatened to drown them all, clawing away at their minds and
puncturing the delicate firmament of what was and what might be. Until at
last, the prize rested within the darksteel Ark. A tremor ran through the
silver manse, toppling spires and unsettling the foundation they fought
upon.
Rich arterial blood wept from the Dark Lord's flank where the silksteel had
failed in its duty. Weakness crept up his limbs, but his gloved hand
remained secure upon the ark beside Symantha and Vincent. The calamity of
Rasavadis arrival met them in a fury of midnight blue as the power contained
within the hammer binding the Ceriloch was unleashed upon the ghul, covering
their desperate retreat.
They were a bulwark of plate and sinew, both blackened with age, colliding
with the Ghul court in a contest of primeval will with the accumulated
madness and power bound to the twins. A slathering outburst of inhuman
howling rattled the manse behind the Shadowknights as the Ark was hefted
beyond the decimated doors. They were but paces ahead of the Ghul's fury,
the deathknights continuing their onslaught to the last, buying every
precious moment of escape.
-*-
The winding corridors of the yawning city, the sprawling alleys, strange
gardens and dwellings seemed to fold in on themselves and teeter on some
unknowable precipice as the Knights fled into the tunnels and toward the
surface.
Within the Ark the coalesced blood of Necrucifer smoldered with a whispering promise.
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[ 64] Telthian: Lost City - Within the Infinite Night - II
Tue Dec 22 00:57:22 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Make no mistake, I want them all. I want it all. And I WILL have it
all. But as much as I want Storm to be the circled crown upon which I wear,
it is nothing more than a band of gold without its jewels. I want you too,
Carrionmaw. I want you to be my crowning glory."
-*-
The ground heaved and roiled as a tremor rolled through the subterranean
places and into the world above. Remains of butchered ghul were in the wake
of the dark knights who breached the surface to rejoin the Deathwatch. They
had seized the very moment the star was plucked from its prison and the
Court slipped in their control of the host. The signs of a desperate charge
were written in carnage of the decimated aberrations, painting the path out
of the ruins in a swath made slick with black putrefied ichor.
The weight of the ark pulled his arm down, and a bit of strength leeched
from him with each pained step. Together, Symnatha, Vincent, Telthian, and
the last of the Shadowguard hauled the Ark from the bowels of Icewall and
back to the surface as Rasavadi secured their exodus. Beneath the glimmer
of the disquieting moon, they rejoined the remaining might of their forces.
Out from the hulking mass of shattered rooftops and tumbled columns they
retreated. Creeping shadows pursued them at every mile, the inhuman howls
ringing through the ruins as the Ark was torn away from the lost city of
Dae'tok.
Unable to rid himself of them, dark whispers crawled through Telthian's mind
as they made their way out of the ruins and across the boulder-strewn
plateau back to Eastdrift.
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[ 65] Symantha: Fw: Lost City - The Darkest Path
Tue Dec 22 15:59:48 2020
To: Telthian Carrionmaw
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
| -----Original Message-----
| From: Symantha
| To: Telthian Vincent Rasavadi ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
| Subject: Lost City - The Darkest Path
| Date: Wed Oct 28 23:28:40 2020
"I would have your voice as a strong current of the Darkness that grows
anew under my moon. To be the cresting flood that will reconstruct the
landscape with its suffocating power yet in its aftermath, the energy that
rises as brilliant and full as the moon itself."
++--++
The road had been hard and bloody, it had taken more than it had given.
They all wore the scars, inside and out.
...and here they were.
The passages passed by in a blurred rush, details sparse as the ground
shook. No one spoke, breath rushed in the dark - heralded by unwavering
footsteps and a deep sense of taxation.
You once spoke 'If one cannot lead the Darkness through respect, through
faith, fear becomes the next viable option. But if one cannot command even
through fear, what then.'
Pale illumination lifted, kindled by the Dark Lord and herself. Pain
encompassed her head but she bore it in silence, alongside the lingering
struggle to rise from the remnants of the red aurora whispering through her
mind.
They do not, nor have they ever, feared the sword. What they fear, are
monsters. What the lands need now are not heroes, Priestess, but monsters.
The words, real or imagined, whispered through her consciousness and as she
shifted the weight of the Ark she glanced at Telthian and mindfully took in
the presence of Vincent and Rasavadi.
She walked apace with those who's capacity for monstrousness was unrefuted.
They had all slain the children. They had all embraced the darkest of
paths, if they had not simply been born of it. They -were- monsters, but
had they all accepted it? Could they be more?
Do not let the sacrifice stand for nothing. Use it. Remind them...of who...
and what...they are...
There was no slowing, no uncertainty on the path they tread. They all knew,
it seemed, unerringly where to go and how best to get there. Cold sweat
made her robes stick uncomfortably, the strain made her ache from head to
toe, but she was determined to stand with them.
To finish this.
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[ 69] Eevelline: The First Journey Home. ( 1 )
Fri Dec 25 03:19:32 2020
To: Drakkara All Telthian Symantha Nikola Dxutim Nimiane Boof Rasavadi Maccus Catroina Zola Kaerick ( Imm Cayenna RP Storyline )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'You are sure it's here Eevelline? We cannot be wrong again... I think
the pirates might lose their minds if you lead us in a wrong direction
again. ' Volar pulls at his neckline- adjusting his plated collar as he
looks to the gnome. The torchlight illuminates a cavern of vast entirety as
Volar and the gnome parley over a subterranean map. The command group of
mercenaries look around as the small adventurer checks her compass and
charts, humming while flipping parchment this way and that.
'It is here. Dig along that wall, and be careful about it. The passage
below will undoubtedly be ancient- so watch out for toxic gas. ' Eevelline
nods once, and nearly pushes her glasses up- but she is not wearing them
down in this tunnel system so instead she nearly jabs herself in the eye.
The gnome and the rest of the command group look disheveled, and outright
exhausted- yet still they press on after several failures to locate this
forgotten passage.
Several of the foremen and overseers point at this would-be passage,
indicating to the diggers to begin again. The clang of pickaxes and other
digging utensils ring out in the tunnels as the gnome and her council watch
with excitement. It does not take long for the rocks to slowly collapse
along this portion of cave wall- the rocks giving way to a passage that
threatens to suck in the air of the occupied passage. A wail of an echo
sings as Volar tosses a silver coin down into the bowels of the earth.
'Well.. You gott this right Eevie- question is, do we really go down? '
The halfbreed looks over his shoulder and hums while the gnome's pupils
dilate as she surveys the new passage down.
'We go down. Bring the trading materials too- I must gain leverage to speak
with The Old One and some other colleagues. Our backup plan is the
gunpowder- if they really think to kill us, then we will be the last dinner
they ever have. ' The unnatural pupils in Eevelline's eyes dilate as they
adjust to the new darkness of this passage. She hardly waits for her
retinue to follow as she heads down into the abyss...
----
The caverns are cold, and nearly lifeless as stalagtites hover menacingly
overhead pools of water. A darkened world only seen best when speculated
over exists within this landscape. Small fish swim within the pools of
mineral water, careful to keep their distance from the supposed shoreline
and depths of these caverns. A small orange glow flickers within an
outcropping of earth- growing brighter as the band makes their way into the
expanse of darkness.
As Eevelline and her party of so-called pirates emerge from the tunnel, the
area suddenly transforms into an unnatural plane of rock and water. Nothing
in this expanse of earth is growing, save for the lurking fear. The gnome
beams a smile and turns about- facing her band of ragtag spelunkers.
'Gentlemen- I present to you the Underdark, my birthing place. Please do
not touch the walls that have a slightly green tinge- there is enough copper
in those walls to pollute the largest wells in the surface world. '
A roiling mass of displaced water forms within one of the large pools of
water. The waves threaten to crush eardrums and deafen dragons as flesh
emerges from aqua. One large eye peers at the band of travelers while
shrieks of rage and hunger ring down into the caverns.
'I know you.... Tiny thing. ' An ethereal yet masculine voice rings out
within the caverns. 'You have come to see me once more... So be it. Bring
forth your offerings, and we will speak... My flock will arrive soon and
see if you are worthy or not. Her's or not, power means little to me if you
do not offer to share it. '
'Salutations, Old One. I have food to trade, if you would hear a deal I
have to make for your service to the Dark Lady. '
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[ 70] Crelius: Atennim's War: A Storm Over Algoron (20)
Fri Dec 25 23:41:09 2020
To: all Rasavadi ( IMM RP )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In response, the ineffable anger that followed manifested in unthinkable
gales of wind and deity-like torrents. Battering upon the summoned field of
negative energy, only to be dispersed in its icy viscosity.
Laughter bellowed out in the form of thunder. Before the ancient voice of
the storm-wyrm chose to be heard clear.
"Ghosts of the past, Dark Tooth," The electrified tone arched out in cutting
malevolence. "I remember these wolves of Gohdam as mere pups! Still, that
hammer will sit nicely next to your likeness. Let us see this finally
through, Crelius." The last letter drawn to a whipping hiss, as the being
buffeted in a tempestuous fury. Sending whirlwinds of tornado-like
proportions eddying outward. Massive tropical trees and underbrush were
uprooted, and thrown like weeds in the ferocious wind.
The thunderbolts flashed across the sky, and for the first time Rasavadi saw
the wingspan and true enormity of the dragon. A silhouette of a winged
titan against the turbulent black sky, for but an instant. Then more
darkness and more maelstrom. Save for only its eyes, twin nimbuses burning
electric through the midnight air. Surging in their intensity as the storm
bolts quickened. Controlling the hurricane that ravaged the valley as if it
was its living heart.
An uproar resounded, and the eruption of a godly bolt tore upwards, not
down, from the sky. Electric fire channeled in a fount so large the
entirety of the valley was cast with a white-blue sheen. Its source the
very maw of the dragon, yawning upward in monstrous vehemence. Seven
lightning strikes struck down in quick succession before the rise upon which
Crelius stood. The concussive flashes sent earth into the air, and blinded
the shadowknight as he raised his palm to shield his eyes. A silence
followed. The bolts strangely, made no sound as they struck, lacking the
roaring thunder that had besieged the valley floor so constantly.
As his vision cleared he watched the manifestation of seven forms, standing
where each bolt had struck. Stepping forward, one by one, walking slowly
and entering the perimeter of the ghostly mist. The icy fog, wafting and
reaching with a cursed etherealness, parted as the humanoid forms stepped
through it.
The first among them, Crelius recognized immediately. Not by the roguish,
red studded leather, or the twin black-fire daggers at his side. But at the
callous and confident smirk upon his human features. His red-blond hair,
cropped stylishly, and long sideburns encasing his arrogant smile. His
black eyes met Crelius immediately, and began to speak with that tell-tale
voice before Atennim could begin to react.
"Still sympathizing with a dead cause, after so long. I thought we had come
to an agreement, old friend!? Time to put that hammer down, my boy. You
know where you belong," The revenant of Gildwulf spoke, his charismatic and
chiding voice the same that influenced him to turn his back to the order of
Eclipse. It called out with the same serpentine guile that he remembered.
Crelius did not respond, but watched from the promontory as the others filed
into view behind the former Avatar of Gaar Volen. Each forgotten legends in
their own right. A young looking human warrior, clad entirely in blue
dragonscale raiment of his ward. Another man, a ranger, with a bow in his
hand and a quiver over his shoulder, with an earthen cowl covering his
features. The dragon chose to summon both Agtinon and Crilok, Crelius noted
with some dread. Wondering who was next to appear from the long line of
Storm Warders.
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[ 71] Crelius: Atennim's War: A Storm Over Algoron (21)
Fri Dec 25 23:46:02 2020
To: all Rasavadi Eclipse ( IMM RP )
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two dark elven women materialized at their flanks. One enshrouded with
the lent power of her master. A figure of striking beauty. Azure energy
crackling in guided grace down the length of her blackened robe. Her eyes
burned electric and she held in her hands twin nimbus dark-laen power. The
other fell syren, wearing a more rugged and earthen garb, glared upwards and
drew upon the natural energies around her. Vines from the earth below
awakening at her command as she moved, and wrapped up and around the
withered staff in her hand.
The small stature of a kender, donned in a garb of comfortable green and
brown slinked into the mist. This one, lacking the jovial appearance one
would expect of its race, bore a countenance of sadness behind its sharp
features. It carried a bladed hoopak that it was swinging in a determined
rhythm.
A dwarf appeared as well, a crusader bearing worn chainmail and a hammer in
one hand. The other holding up an embroidered standard, its image sewn from
dark blues and blacks. Outlining the form of twin lightning bolts under a
turbulent sky.
Crelius gritted his teeth at the appearance of these warriors. Realising,
despite the brevity of what was occurring behind and before him, that one of
them had not yet appeared. A troubled thought crossed his mind, that this
plan might be in folly. Either way, there was no chance at recourse now.
Neither the Ceriloch or the revanents of the Storm appeared in this world
idly.
Casting his gaze to the sky he looked again into the termotulous storm that
still raged in the heavens. Nodding to the void above him, as the two
lightning-orb eyes appeared in the heavens. The baleful laughter and
thunder crashed out again, nearly taking the shadowknight from his feet in
its audible discordance.
Gripping the hammer tightly with his blue-drake scale gauntlets, he turned
his head behind him. Bloodied white hair whipping about wildly as he looked
down upon the wraith-lords of Eclipse from his position. He saw those he
remembered, in memories and in the visions he held vigil over. At least one
from each of the seven Yinn families, and Drahar himself. Looking towards
Crelius now with an odd gaze through his ethereal countenance, gratitude,
perhaps. And of course, the first of their kind. Maven, the old one and
first among equals. His skeletal features rictus with ghostly flesh, and
his great flamberge sword at his side.
Atennim grimaced as he nodded, and met Rasavadis incredulous stare. The
small light of mortality in a field of ancient dead. He kept his gaze upon
him as he drew the hammer back and forward. Issuing the field command to
attack, and the dead marched forward. Silent as the void in their approach,
their movement casting a field of imposing dread and terror.
As he turned his head to meet their targets below, five of the six had
already bolted around the precipice with arcane alacrity. Zoran though,
remained, his arms crossed. Meeting Atennim's stare with a smile, and
slowly drawing the dark flame daggers from his sides. With a catlike
quickstep he was in the air and bounding towards Atennim. The shadowknight
lept from the muddied rise, holding the hammer aloft to meet his old
companion in a harrowing clash.
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[ 72] Rasavadi: The Wolves of Gohdam (22): Ghosts of the Past
Sat Dec 26 12:07:56 2020
To: Crelius Shadow Eclipse All Imm RP
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The tempest raged. Bolts of lightning unseen since the heavens wept for
Turpa decimated the skies and landscape far and wide. The undead blue was
largely hidden in the storm, but every once in a while a tatter of decayed
scales glinted in the light, then its head was unveiled as the clouds parted
briefly.
"I see now... }x" boomed as if spoken by the storm itself as Jormungander
hovered over them. The sheer scale of him defied reason. None of the
ancient dragons of this age came close. Even the Maw would fit within the
blues rib cage.
Rasavadi tore his gaze from the dracolich from the order to bow from
Crelius.
It was truly a sight to behold. Crelius stood upon the mount surrounded in
a frozen mist holding the hammer aloft. Dark energy lashed out at his
surroundings seemingly fighting back the storm creating a bubble of calm
around him. Around him were an uncountable host of warriors. Men and women
all bound by vow and ritual to The Hammer, and the Eclipse, whose armor
spanned the known ages of Algoron. Countless hosts could be seen flickering
at the edge of Rasavadi's vision dating even further.
Gone now was the inner fear and doubt, imposters syndrome, he perpetually
suffered. Gone now was all sense of time and temperature. No longer did
his melted and scarred flesh scream in agony. All he felt was awe, pride,
and purpose. Fracturing the layers of ice from his armor joints, and
freeing his boots from the very ground he stood upon, Rasavadi raised his
sword to Crelius and the Ceriloch in a knight's salute, resheathed his
sword, and bowed.
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[ 74] Eevelline: The First Journey Home. ( 2 )
Sat Dec 26 15:04:47 2020
To: Drakkara All Telthian Symantha Nikola Dxutim Nimiane Boof Rasavadi Maccus Catroina Zola Kaerick ( Imm Cayenna RP Storyline )
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'She is a leaver! We do not like leavers! Look! Her face glows because
of it! Kill her! Yes please.. Kill her. KILL HER. ' The chorus of Deep
Gnome shrieks and demands for death are a symphony of ill tidings, yet
Eevelline and her ragtag band of adventurers do not retreat. Most of them
do go pale in the face however. As the band slowly allows the denizens of
the Underdark to surround them- all Eevelline really does is open one large
wooden crate and toss a large fish onto the stone floor. It is a hefty
fish, and the gnome has to powerlift it out of the box- but it does happen
all the same.
'Fish are pleasing.. But I want more. Much more. What else do you offer,
tiny thing? ' The large eye and rumbling ethereal voice seem pointed and
observant of the gnome- and the water roils again as more of this behemoth
surfaces. The one large eye is joined by another, and then several pairs of
smaller eyes along strange spots on this face. They do not blink in unison,
some never blinking at all. Rows upon rows of teeth line the mouth of this
fearsome creature. The draconic head is not as elongated as one would
think, more condensed about the supposed snout of the beast. If one could
truly describe this face, it would be strikingly similar to a lanternfish or
very odd angler.
'There is more.. Yes? You are not as weak as you once were.. So I do not
read your thoughts as well. That is not a boon, tiny thing- but a curse. '
A tentacle slinks out of the water, the large appendage wrapping about the
gnome's torso and picking her up. Eevelline just lets this happen for some
strange reason, however she does look over her shoulder with a hard
expression as a bowstring is pulled back. 'What do you want, tiny thing?
Speak- or do not. One of those options.. Is very bad for you. '
'It is not polite to pick up people without asking first. I will look past
this, because I want this to be a happy reunion. ' Eevelline sighs and
looks to The Old One. The Dusky Moon on her forehead glows brighter- its
aura illuminating some more of this creature's face. A small foot, leg
likely gone- and a small arm are lodged in a few gaps of teeth. Not really
a pleasing thing to see- but alas here we are. 'Would you like me to fish
those out of your teeth for you? We can converse and do dental work. I am
a doctor on the surface world- so that service I offer you for free while we
talk. L
The aboleth rumbles with amusement, and a fist with similar emerges from the
water. The digits unfurl, forming a platform for the gnome to stand upon as
the tentacle drops her in the palm. 'I would like this. Old times are
pleasing.. Yet you are now different and somehow the same. Madness indeed-
that we are repeating history. The Loop is indeed alive and well. ' An
elbow collides with the stone floor, nearly knocking those standing to their
knees as the large hand props the gnome up near those troubling dental
spots. 'What does She want of me? I am different.. Yet She does not come
to me and give orders. Why. '
'Well for one, She sends me to do that now. And two-' Eevelline takes hold
of the dessicated foot lodged within the teeth and yanks. A few tries
ensue, but the gnome does pull one foot and it's stripped calf out from the
gap. 'You are not Her's to command. Not yet anyway. When was the last
time you sank a ship, or fought for dominion over the deep seas? '
'I have no need of doing such things anymore. For two hundred years I have
feasted upon the bones of your kind's weaklings. I see no reason to prove
my dominion over seas that are ripe with weak things. I do not insult the
Dark Lady, I am simply smart enough to know that this is my realm now. ' As
the Old One speaks, the same tentacle that picked the gnome up waves over
the growing crowd of Deep Gnomes. They shriek and pound the stone floor
with their fists as a ringing noise comes forth from.. Somewhere.
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[ 75] Crelius: Atennim's War: A Storm Over Algoron (22)
Sun Dec 27 23:42:01 2020
To: all Rasavadi ( IMM RP )
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Deftly Zoran met Crelius in mid air. As Atennim swung the hammer down,
its fall hurried by momentum and unholy augmentation. With an uncoiling
motion Gildwulf caught the hammer's maul end with the pommel of his dagger.
Using the downward leverage to whip around Atennim, placing a boot at the
knights waist and kicking down. Crelius fell to the frozen ground with an
audible crack, sliding several feet upon his back. His eyes never moving
from the nimble warrior above him, who had taken his place atop the earthen
promontory he had just lept from. Zoran looked down with his smug sneer,
his arms crossed and pausing for a moment to view the conflict around them.
Atennim used the brief respite to regain his footing and glance across the
field to the maddening battle that erupted. The storm continued to rage
above them, lightning streaking across the sky. While the torrential rain
continued to pop and freeze upon the negative field mustered by the death
knight's host. He saw the storm revenant's fighting in unison, casting down
the undead warriors with masterful critical strikes, or spells that banished
or turned them on one another. While they were surely outnumbered, they
were clearly not outmatched.
Before letting his mind begin to assess, he heard the clacking footfalls of
Zoran touch down on the icy field. Having lept from the high ground to
equal footing now before him. "You know, we don't quite understand what you
hope to achieve here. Crelius," Zoran chided him, spinning his black fire
daggers casually in his gloved hands. "You know as well as any, well not
take a bow. We know full well what has transpired during our little ...
Sojourn. Surely you see the same opportunity we do?" Zoran chuckled as the
words came out. Stepping closer with his twin spinning daggers, their
black-fire wafting in mesmerizing haze at his sides.
Atennim gripped the black-iron hammer and raised it to a striking stance as
he stepped forward to meet the Avatar. "Your ambition has always been a
base one, Gildwulf. I always admired you for that," Crelius retorted back
in a low mannered tone. Hefting the archaic warhammer above in an over-head
arch. Zoran dodged it easily as the sledge's head crashed and split the
frozen earth. Not pausing, Atennim hefted the maul in a circular sweep, in
an attempt to remove Zoran's footing where he landed. The agile warrior was
too quick however, pivoting with a gloved palm to-the-ground between the
strike and springing upward with a roll. His daggers now coming down blade
first towards Crelius' open chest plate.
At the last moment, Crelius raised the hammer's haft, blocking each dagger's
fell-blades against its cold-iron belly. He met Zoran face to face, the
warrior's sardonic grin ever present as he measured his strength against
Crelius. The shadowknight glared and growled as he leveraged his weight to
his flank. Causing the daggers to slide and striking his opponent in the
jaw with the knob of the hammers handle. He reeled backward from the strike
with a flourish, landing upon his two feet with feline grace.
Beyond Zoran, he could see the warriors of the Storm engaged in a violent
contest, and living well up to their reputation in the matters of war. The
dark-elven mage was levitating high in the air in the distance, one of her
lithe hands pointed down at the undead host, using their negative field
against them. She had amplified the frigid nature of it, and encapsulated
half a score of the dread knights in a block of ice. Her power was so
great, she drew a second dweomer with her other limb. Moving her wrist in a
conducting style, then with a sudden slashing motion, she cut a swath in the
negative field that had surrounded the host. As she did so, electricity
built around the rift like a hungering force. Lightning began to crash
through the cut, all the while the mage becoming a living conduit. Striking
and blowing apart the warriors from the storm above.
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[ 76] Crelius: Atennim's War: A Storm Over Algoron (23)
Sun Dec 27 23:49:13 2020
To: all Rasavadi ( IMM RP )
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Further on the western flank he saw "The Rain", who had summoned a
towering earth elemental from the wilds beyond the battle line. The treant
like entity lumbered into the maelstrom, swinging its trunk size limbs with
crushing force. All the while, upon its back the ranger known as The Fury,
stood on a deadly vantage point. Firing arrow after arrow with phosphorus
tips into the undead knights, catching the weaker ones ablaze.
The elven druid below cast another spell, summoning the wilds of the savage
lands itself under her command. A stampede of prehistoric beasts stormed
the southern flank of the battle, but were instantly snuffed from life as
they passed the field of enervation. A pile of bones forming as the beasts
trampled into a wall of oblivion.
"To answer your question. It is to simply become unbound," The Warden spoke
as he began to sidestep, holding the hammer in a mid-defensive position.
Its negative light, making it nearly invisible, save for when the lightning
flashed above. "And to do that, some old feuds must be settled tonight.
Not mine, however. Alas, I am but the ferryman," Crelius cast a raven
half-smile towards the dagger wielding viper of a man he faced.
Both men now side stepped in a circular motion. Gildwulfs movements lithe
and serpentine, moving at a natural pace he had perfected a thousand times
over. Atennim, slowed by the hammers weight, stepped carefully and
deliberately. While his dragonscale plate was light compared to most, his
movements were less fluid. His caution of it was no less however, and he
moved in careful observation of his opponent.
"Fair enough old-boy, why then the parade?" The mercenary lord quipped,
true to his reputable arrogance. As he spoke he lept forward, leading with
his smoldering daggers held high and the other low. Atennim batted the top
away with the heavy end of the hammer, and lunged to the right. Feeling the
cold-heat of the dagger on his side as it glanced past. Zoran skipped
through the motion, landing a few feet away and circling once again.
"Oh I wouldnt dare invite you where you would not be entertained. Where
then might I ask, is the guest I have yet to see?" Crelius asked. This
time it was he who advanced. Leaping forward with an aggressive feint, he
lead with the hammer in a swinging motion towards Zoran's shoulder.
Anticipating his opponent's dodge and counter-strike, he extended his left
leg forward. Pushing down the head of the hammer instead in a ramming
motion that tripped the Avatar to the ground. Crelius wasted no time and
was upon him, pinning him to the ground with hammer's head at Zoran's
throat.
"Rinji?" Zoran laughed. Meeting Atennim's gaze with that look he hadn't
seen in a lifetime. The mocking jovial pits of his eyes, serious now with
the promise of murder. "Some birds just cannot be tethered." Gildwulf
spat, as his composure changed and a knowing sneer crossed his lips.
Crelius' brow fluttered at his opponent's expression. Knowing that he had
made a poor miscalculation. In his moment of realization, it was already
too late. He could barely feel as the blade entered his back. Piercing
through his armored abdomen's plate, perfectly between its seams. Looking
down he saw the weapon come out the other side, its point extending through
the mid-section of his armor. So perfect and deadly, that he may have not
even noticed save for the howl of the Yinn warrior that yelled his name.
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[ 77] Crelius: Atennim's War: A Storm Over Algoron (24)
Sun Dec 27 23:52:50 2020
To: all Rasavadi ( IMM RP )
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He had considered this eventuality, not ideal as it was. Reaching behind
him, in an unexpected movement, he grasped for the wrist that had struck the
blow from behind. Feeling the soft felt of a silken robe encasing the
assassin's arm, he knew who it was. And with the steely grip and ferocity
of a death throe, he pulled his would-be killer out from behind him and sent
him shambling before him.
The shadow of a man was barely phased by the sudden jarring, and was upon
his feet before Crelius could realize. Watching Atennim like a spider as
the blades wound took affect, the Warden looked upon him in some disbelief.
Long and straight black hair framed the man's passive features. Quiet and
defined by the shrouded blacks and grays of the kimono he wore. His eyes,
incandescent somehow. The tip of his katana poking gently over his
shoulder. The scabbard of the blade tied at his waist an empty sheath.
Silent power was palpable in the air around this killer of all killers.
As his strength and vision waned, he felt the hammer begin to slip from his
grip. His footing too, began to wobble, just as his eyesight. Turning his
head, he saw the vision of an armored yinn approaching with a speed and fury
that struck him like an old memory. As if the vengeance god had returned.
In a brief moment of clarity, he let the hammer fall. Watching it land on
the frozen earth, its haft standing up. He looked Rasavadi in the eye as he
approached and nodded.
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[ 79] Telthian: Lost City - The Infinite Night - III
Thu Dec 31 11:07:55 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
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"ALL YOU POSSESS IS WHAT I PERMIT, AND THAT WHICH THE WORLD DOES NOT CLAW
AWAY FROM YOUR GRASP."
-*-
The weight of the Ark pressed mightily upon the Knights of Shadow. Indeed,
the titanic vessel was hefty, but so too did it exude an unyielding pressure
as though it were a thing so dense it warped and distorted the landscape and
physical geometries surrounding it.
Skirmishes with the ghul harried the return to Eastdrift, but in the
openness of the boulder-strewn plateau the cavalry of the Deathwatch easily
outmatched the beasts and hastened the retreat. Yet there was a certainty
held among those who fought in the campaign that this enemy remained both
unbeaten and dangerous.
There was almost no moon when the forces returned to the safety of the
fortress. The wounded field-dressed and prepared for exodus back to
Verminasian lands for superior care, while a contingent would remain behind
under the watchful command of Eastdrift's new Castellan for there is no
safeguard against a determined foe but vigilance. There was no formal
celebration to be had, but food and drink went unrationed, each man and
woman indulgent for a night many did not expect to see had finally come.
The knights and champions returned from the depths of Dae'tok assembled
around a greatfire, relieved that more had emerged from that crumbling doom
than they had feared. There would be a time to mourn those lost, but the
warmth of the fire and completion of their hard fought struggle were
savored.
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[ 80] Telthian: Lost City - The Infinite Night - IV
Thu Dec 31 11:15:50 2020
To: All Shadow Verminasia Eclipse ( Imm Necrucifer Drakkara Cayenna Scorn )
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"Gold are your fingers, leaving traces everywhere you go. Master the
secrets within my Tower and meld them with your own. With them you will
bring a more perfect melody unto the Darkness."
-*-
It is unclear how rumor mills gather their grist, as there had been no
witnesses, but word began circulating that Drakkara had visited the Dark
Lord and Chancellor while others celebrated beneath the starless sky. Word
was immediately dispatched to Storm Keep.
The Ark would remain in Eastdrift for just a single day. The divinations
showed nothing concrete, growing murkier the farther ahead they scryed. But
in the present the threat of retribution was too great. Preparations were
made hastily, but with every concern that might arise in transit measured.
Two additional arks had been fashioned, indistinguishable from the real.
All three dispatched from Eastdrift at once, and charting varied paths to
their final destination. Dark wings surveilled the route ahead for each,
and for once their skepticism and concerns went unfounded.
-*-
To the outward observer, Storm Keep lay still, a grim monument to a past
legacy that had now been unmade, its resolve broken like so many Knights who
no longer rode through its arched entry. But within its depths, the sound
of hammer and chisel heralded the expansion of old foundations laid
generations before, revealing something that lay dormant beneath the altar
since its long before Storm's founding. Overhead, the purple and jagged
tear in the sky crackled with a promise that would reshape Algoron.
