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Everything posted by Djinn&Juice

  1. The Barbed fields were a miasma of misery and fear, it's coagulated terror seeping into every soul that hung from it's merciless razor wire. One such soul had been in the midst of a business deal gone awry between the town itself and Ouroboros, a mysterious club far out in Blairville. The correspondent suffering the unfair laws of Wicker Town and strung up...left to rot. Fiona had only been hanging front the scoured pole for a week, yet still she triumphed against the slights of insanity amidst the constant piercing barbs covering her form. Her curiosity persisting through the pain as she continued to see lost souls and broken bodies strung up and left here as she tried to recognized any of the figures that had betrayed her. The tiefling unaware of The legion's Sudden takeover as she heard screams in the distance and even could smell blood beyond what had been shed across these fields of misfortune. Something was afoot and she could only hope that it was her friends coming to save her! Calypso would never leave her like this! She knew it in her heart of hearts. The figure that arrived was most certainly not Calypso or her friends. He was a looming presence of blackened metal and stiff movements concealed by a shadowed cloak. She wanted to call for his help, but she had lost her voice screaming out days ago so all she could do now was croak. he moved from post to post and freed those who were still breathing, empowering them with some strange power and sending them off to seek revenge for their plight. The thought of revenge was indeed uncanny, but all she truly wanted was her damned freedom back. Dredge now only three posts away from hers as she managed to squirm a few times and grunt out to try and show that she was still among the living here. A new group of strangers arriving as she was just cut free of her serrated bindings. The mud and earth squelching around her as she crashed into the ground. The conversation between the strangers were muffled against the battering rain that started to pool around her mud sopped head; her bleary vision only able to see the other prisoners that had been released, the rise and fall of their chests were slight but still present and all the frustration, anger, and resentment welled up inside her melted around the rain. She had always ever cared about seeing the starved fed well and often. It was her culinary way. She hadn't revealed to her captors the haversack she had hidden in the fantastically large beehive style her hair was still in despite the week she had spent languished against starvation and barbs. She crawled toward the nearest of those who had been freed. Her hands digging in the dirt near his face and she struggled for a moment as sweat beaded from her forehead. The mud that was pooled in her hands suddenly bubbled and changed color; it's viscosity and formula changing into a dull grey liquid that didn't leak through her fingers. Her head tilting and sending ingredients spilling through her hair and into the pond in her palms. The potion coursing through his system quickly as he drank in it's contents. Valeth struggling for a moment as she stood up again, helping to lift the half-orc and giving his hopelessly torn clothes a dust off "Well Darlin, ain-chyu cute. Ah could just eat you up!"
  2. Family was a complicated cesspool that Rivana could hardly stand anymore. Her mom was stifling and her sisters had their own problems. Arashi was the only family she had that she actually cared about. She hadn't traveled so far in her entire life, but if Arashi could do it...then so could she. her travels taking her across Genesaris, Fracture, and eventually Orisia. Her short temper and stubborn nature would have plagued the search with further obstacles if it wasn't for the humble dragonborn that insisted he went along. Zobuuris possessing a rustic charm that Rivana only failed at; She gave him shit constantly for being so obviously in love with Arashi, but she couldn't deny how well he interacted with commoners. She couldn't help but worry that charm wasn't going to be enough for Orisia however...Several rumors had exhumed from the dozen hamlets and villages they traveled through about a peculiar girl with draconic features, her travels taking her to the lands of Orisia. A place of darkness and mystery. Rivana thought that of most of the places she visited. She was always into places she could start fights at! They arrived in a particularly dreary town that smelled cryptic and full of secrecy, pinching her nose as Zobuuris marched up next to her. It seemed a vast array of strangers would be arriving in town. "Ah think we should lay low this tahm around Rivana" Zobuuris spoke up, his southern accent starkly apparent in such a groomed land. The steely blue dragonborn eight feet in height and adorned in a thick duster and rawhide cowboy hat. A bulk to him that was mostly obscured by his ruddy coat wth only a wide tail dragging at the ground behind him. "Anybody that calls me a dog is getting fucking kicked like one" barked back the twelve foot Krokahten; A giant race that stood twelve feet tall and possessed the characteristics of wolves, yet stood and operated as any man or woman. Her black wrought breastplate war scarred and pock marked, leaving her muscled arms bare; her black fur sprawled with pepperings of white that dotted her arms and face like freckles. Rivana eyeing a bar that was up ahead, thirst and curiosity persisting toward it's threshold. The bar's roof barely high enough for her as she ducked into the dive bar and immediately garnered the attention of it's interior. Her kind not being found far outside of Shawnee. Her frigid blue eyes daring anyone to challenge them before Zobuuris stepped in front of her and calmed her excitement down. The bar returning to it's revelry as the cowboy sighed. He didn't have enough money to pay a bar owner for damages if she got too excited again. He didn't know if he could stop her again
  3. Most of the ilk that came across her hut always had much to say when it came to her wolven nature considering it wasn't a race known across the world. Rivana finding it curious that this guy seemed intent on watching his words, despite the harshness of the weather. She always figured the warmth of the interior was enough to get them to open up; she liked that Sikko was different. The five minutes passing with Rivana setting a bowl of stew in front of him as she started in on her own, slurping it down with a heavy sigh as she leaned back and pat her stomach a few times. their gazes crossing a few times in the silence and they both appeared to be gauging eachother. Her eyes having no malice, viciousness, or darkness...but rather a will of fire that seemed to steam off her thick arms and chest. He could tell that she was a warrior through and through. Something she saw too, in Sikkoran's own pupils. A wide smile spreading across her maw as he finally spoke up. "Well Lin, that is a crazy fucking reason to trek through one of the most dangerous regions this side of Terrenus...I like it" The large wolf barking a boisterous laugh at the concept of anyone other than the shawnee clans taking on such a task. If he didn't look so serious when he met her gaze she would've thought he was just lying his ass off to be macho, but damned if she didn't see he was willing to go through with this search of his. Rivana finishing her stew and tossing the bowl onto the table as she used one of her claws to pick her teeth. Istravi had given her rules on who to watch out for and who to let in. She could practically feel the underlying talent this one had. He would be one hell of a contender. Rivana stretching out her legs and kicking up onto the table "If your looking to tangle with the elemental then your after The Trial Of Frostbitten Bones, actually, it's a tradition my clan started!" She said with pride swelling in her muscled chest, brandishing her hand toward the tapestry above the doors that depicted the clan of giant wolves surrounding an elemental force surrounded by watery tendrils. "We used to be a bunch of bloodthirsty marauders that fought with anything and everything that came through here, but grandma thought shit needed a change if we were going to survive and fought Chief Ragnar for leadership. She may be old as dirt, but damn is she strong! I only heard stories about it, but she whipped his ass out of the clan and led us on a different path. Istravi knew that her people were still warriors and if we weren't gonna be fighting fair skins and their ilk then we needed something else to fight. That's where she came up with The Trial Of Frostbitten Bones. A fucking mouthful, but damn if it isn't cool. We hold a festival every year where our strongest warriors gather together and one on one fight The Elemental with only their fists and combat prowess! Your in luck cause the festival is being held tonight with a few other clans too! Those cock weasels that attacked before made the clans desperate enough where they are w orking together on this festival so you'd probably be able to get in if your good" Moshra pouring a tankard full and giving it a hearty drink "The Krokahten are the wolf clans, which thanks to grandma aren't hostile to folks like you...but the other clans and their crazy ass ways will likely try and kill you dead so I'd be careful...well...actually. I was going to fight the elemental myself this year and show those assholes what a real warrior looks like, but I got stuck out here instead. If you can get to Istravi, she'll grant you amnesty from the other clans and I bet she'll even let you fight in my stead, but you have to win! That'll show them that even all the way out here I can still kick better ass then they can! Tell them that and they'll sure as shit now who sent ya" She said with another boisterous laugh, giving him a leather strapped necklace with silvery crescent moon sidled next to a bright blue crystal; a depiction of a howling wolf seeming to animate within. Her gregarious nature almost making the interior even warmer now as Sikko' bones continued to drink in the warmth. Rivana content on getting shitfaced as she poured another tankard and started to them one after another. "That's my dad's pendent, when you beat the elemental and totally don't die in the process...bring that back to me will ya? He told me to help an outsider lookin to fight winter's heart and my gut says your him"
  4. It was indeed an overwhelming interior that left Rain with an underlying panic attack should he get hopelessly lost within the mansion. A knock upon the cracked door revealed the warm presence of Alderose, bowing before presenting a scroll "Master Constantine asked me to bequeath this map of the premises to you; in time he hopes you will familiarize yourself; if there is anything you need please ring any of the threaded chords at the end of any hallways. It is easy to get lost!" He said with a chuckle, drawing his fingers through the thin beard that hung from his chin. His wrinkled face lined into a intrigued and warn smile, delighted to see the only family his master talks about in kind. The butler leaning in and revealing a small jewel encrusted key "so that no door may impede your way young lord" He said with a wink before turning heel and quickly getting on to the rest of his to-do list. The map was relatively intrinsic, but broke the mansion down in three floors consisting of about fifty floors with long hallways consisting of hundreds of doors. It was a staggering amount, but focusing on the singular floor he was on made it more manageable. When he eventually left, he would find staff moving to a fro with a small gathering several feet away, two female elves and a well groomed male drow. One of the girls waving and giggling as he waved back. It seemed he was getting quite the reception from the staff. His trek through the sconce laden halls of brilliant golden trim. Servants, butlers, pastry chefs, and valets giving him formal greetings and a bow as he passed. The map indicating that the hall he was moving through was dedicated to guest rooms and the library. The rooms continually dusted, though it seemed they hadn't been in use in some time, or even since their original construction. Rain had to crane his neck as far as it would go and still he could not see the top of some of the bookshelves he came across entering the vast library. a spiral staircase leading up higher bookshelves, and ample seating room with beautiful made wooden tables with gold filigree. A chandelier casting a pale blue glow across everything and almost making the library seem sad and despereux in it's lack of apparent use. The sickly statesman only seeing one other person perusing the selection only one floor above; he didn't appear to be staff as he was adorned in a prismatic cloak that shifted it's colors ever so slightly when the fabric shifted and moved, making it seem almost just a trick in the light. He was currently engrossed in a stack of tomes with his robes billowed around him as he chose to sit on the floor rather than one of the provided chairs; his back toward rain as he continued to read quietly.
  5. "Long have the Dragonborn been ostracized and berated, long have The Dragonborn laid their backs to the sun and begged the fair skins to spare them, Long Have The Dragonborn been overdue their perdition. Steele yourselves and listen" His voice withered from age, but firm in it's intention. Tetra-Sutra-Gaul standing before a crowd of dragonborn men and women adorned in rags and commoner clothes. He himself was a lithe dragonborn, far thinner than many of his kin with silvery scales that were covered completely in ash. A tattered black robe the only thing he adorned, believing that the visible ash was far more of a boon to him than armor ever could be. The scales on his head nearly black with soot as a pair of fair green eyes pierced through the sooted glower onto his flock, raising his hands and causing a trail of ash to sputter behind. "I was but a boy when the enslavement camp I was born in was set ablaze, a fire so bright that it consumed my oppressors in what could only be seen as a...god's retribution. It was then, upon my knees amidst flames and terror that I saw her...the source of these flames...A dragon as ancient as time looking into my scaled heart and I knew then what I know now. We are descendants of the all mighty dragon race, and it is our destiny that we must in turn see them returned to their rightful destiny...as our gods. Praise be The Dragon, a testament to the very scales we wear. Our very heritage belonging to their glory." Gaul leaving his plinth and moving down the carved set of steps down before the crowd, his tattered robes dragging behind him. Ash continuously drifting off his form as he knelt before a youngling and his family, resting a gentle hand atop her head. "I refuse to live in a world where my kind are used as beasts of burden, marauders, bounty hunters, dock workers...It is nothing but degrading and it is because you are so bended toward the fair skin knee that you may consider this just 'your lot in life'...but I see it as an absolute disgrace to the magnificence i gazed upon in my time of need. Had she not shown her fiery retribution then, I would have been executed for the very thing I am doing now...believing" The Ash Keeper rising once more and putting a hand on either of the parent's shoulder "Where their fire burns down our sources of oppression...I shall be there to record the ashes left behind. We must all continue to follow their fire until it once again illuminates the world. " "The Time of dragons has come, and with it A new age of fire. Those who do not serve the scales shall become the ash from which their glory shall rise. A phoenix that will bathe all in their merciless retribution" The crowd beginning to cheer and clap as they started to believe such things could be possible. A chance at freedom from their shackles. A plume of ash trailing from Gaul's nostrils as he looked on with pride. His people were beginning to band together and soon with them at his side...this would no longer become a mere dream. A crick in his back causing him to double over for a moment before he sent forth a haze of ash that brought him his cane, standing upright once more. The whip marks across his back still causing pain after decades; the scars across his face beginning to pulse as he started to feel strange as though an omen was befalling him "I need some rest my children, you are free to return to your quarters. Fire within" He said, finishing with their mantra as they all repeat it to him before talking among themselves as they departed out of the vast cave. Gaul making it only to the threshold of his study before a mist overtook him as though a cloud was shoved into the room. Any sounds of concern and alertness being lost as everything paled to white.
  6. Oh you know Posting in the wrong thread and being too nervous to ask for help and just copy and pasting my reply in the right one and leaving a ghost here in ooc Nothing to see here
  7. Kru'Gorah once again stood atop the abandoned watchtower that looked over what was once Hippogriff' territory. The terror that had befallen the gang and most of all it's leader had quaked throughout the neighboring territories; The combined efforts of the legion putting the entire town in a state of frenzied panic. The djinn once again feeling the terror become overwhelming as it permeated in every putrescent corner as it was made clear that the lawless cesspool had a new master, and all those within it's walls would soon come to a heel. He had completed his work and could only hope that it would appease his lord. The dredged priest holding his hands aloft and bringing forth a plinth made entirely of charred bone. Kru'Gorah calling those fearful and skittering to find answers and safety. His voice booming throughout the decrepit courtyard. Some simply curious and woefully unaware of the danger they had put themselves in. His grin possessing an illuminated glow that cast upon his flock as he would use their terror to instill it even further. This form allowing him to use the terror feast to override the curse set upon his tongue. A far more pragmatic use of a source that perpetually glowered off the mass of people below him. "Long have you suffered in this pit of growing corpses and blood, long has this system failed you with allowing such corrupted vultures rule as they wish. I am here to tell that the established status quo you have followed is crumbling beneath your feet. There is only salvation in your complete devotion and adoration toward our most gracious god. Prostrate yourselves" The power of his command resounding through the crowd beneath him and causing them to all obey without physical restriction. Their knees buckling as their palms touched the cracked and cool earth beneath them; heads kissing the ground as all showed their gratitude. The priest falling to his knees as he lowered his hands before him, bloody tears spilling down his cheeks, such devotion brought him to such emotional heights. He couldn't use such methods in his original form as it was simply designed for wonton destruction, but this...was far more effective than wasteful slaughter. Their terror, not for Kru'Gorah, but rather for the entity underneath him and tasting the unknowing fear for Dredge was somehow sweeter. His voice broadening in it's scope and effect now as his terror feast grew to it's second stage' manifestation. "It is only together that we can strive to break free the chains that for so long as brought us nothing but to our knees. I had escaped my chains and had been lost to a world that did not care for what I could do...but my master, my lord, my absolute showed me that there is a path for me...just as there is a path for you! Fear is only a means of food for those who feast on it's subservience, but it's true purpose is to lend itself to your courage. Terror runs through my body like a bloodcurdling typhoon, yet I choose to manifest it's paralyzing oppression into the courage to serve my god. Gaze upon the power of devotion and give thy selves to it's omnipotence" The robes on his back tearing and giving way to a pair of expanding wings that bloomed to seven feet on either side. The feathers as brilliant and white as his teeth as they created a gust of wind with a mighty flap. The priest soon rising a dozen feet above the building he had been standing on and was now illuminated by the moon at his back. His hands raised now as they all gazed upon his form with awe...as though he were an angel himself. Kru'Gorah was pleased the transplant had worked given the short time frame he had. His hands encircling the air, traces of golden magic being traced as more symbols were made "You will go now and take this town back, your freedom shall be ensured, your devotion proven for every heretical head your bring to me! They stand among you now! Guards, influencers, heretics who had only days before beaten and spit upon you! Rend the bones from their flesh and present them as your offerings for a future without restraint! Unleash the spirit within you and show them what they have brought upon themselves. Amen" The hand gestures were only for flair as his terror feast in this form worked on those his eyes selected; their terror turning to rage now as guards and paid thugs had little time to react before hands were around their throats in the droves. Bloody, finger severed heads already being raised up in zealous roars of retribution as The priest laughed to the heavens. Dredge' presence being felt as it seemed he was enacting his part of the plan. His aura bringing forth a delightful stir in his spirit as he waved his hands across the savage crowd of once subdued souls, sending them forth onto the town nearly two hundred strong.
  8. Implying a good villain exists? Like the DMV or 3am pancakes?
  9. While I would love to see Marigold be played by someone else, ive misplaced his info and would rather see how Gaul is played in someone' elses hands!
  10. “Kru’Gorah leadership is more than killing people. To be fair it’s like 50% of the job. Solid 50 is murder, but that’s not the point. The point is that sometimes you need to know when it’s time time slaughter someone and when it’s time to slip away. This is more than just a small group of villains trying to take power. There’s people we watch after now, and if we’re to survive and gain enough power to not need protection under another’s rule. You need to realize that we’re all in this together. So I’m not mad that you lost control and attacked. I’m just disappointed you didn’t think about the others we tend for before you did.” Words did not effect The Djinn so easily, unless they were feigning courage or insulting his master...yet this was the first time he had ever felt them thrum through his skull with sickening weight. Dredge hadn't yelled or even attempted to eviscerate him...only disappointment. It was far more harrowing then he realized. He never cared for people, creatures, gods, or aberrations, always donning disguises in public and forced to hide in the shadows; feeding off the terror of isolated people. Hell was cowardice, but this place was full of courageous heroes that emboldened the masses. The public were not afraid of a single djinn no matter his features. His own terror was his only source of food for years. Everything had changed when he found Dredge, who took him in without question, who showed him the scale of his power, the strength of unity. He had become his master, his lord, his savior...his God. Mayhem was grafted to every iota of his being, and yet pitted against Dredge's disappointment...he wishes he could control himself better. An army razing villages and towns producing such terror that it made his body ache with bloodlust, once starved, now engorged, A greater purpose was needed to slake his reckless behavior. Break, Nocturna, The Mistress, the orcs, the goblins...privo. One he most enjoyed the company of. These monsters, demons, and freaks who once banded together under one banner, one purpose. The rain cool upon his disguised face as his idle thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of debauchery. His eyes, now a snowy silver, looked down upon neighborhood where his prey was located. It was a rain sick corner of Wicker Town where lost souls and degenerates alike flocked to The Golden Road for their drugs and alcohol, many of the buildings run down and left for squatters to get their next fix. The road itself broken up and near impossible to get a cart over; it was perfect for a gang to monopolize as their territory. Kru'Gorah looking from the squabbling fools meandering the streets to the ramshackled guards that stood outside the only building on the black that didn't have it's windows smashed out or piss and feces across the walls. The Fairchild. A two story building mad up of dull red bricks, it's sign rain scoured and drained of color; much like the rest of the neighborhood. Dredge had given him this chance to redeem his reckless mistake, and he wouldn't fail. He had to think more with his head, and less with his tail. The information he had received on Marissa 'Hippogriff' Silverwind gave him much to work with, and even tailor made a disguise he felt would aid immensely. Kru'Gorah leaving the darkness of the abandoned building he had been surveying in and beginning to walk the cracked streets. He adorned mud stained and torn white robes that possessed a brilliant black sun that checkered across the fabric; most of his figure hidden save for his paled hands and face, vestiges covering his bald head and draping across his shoulders as he continued his trek down the mostly abandoned roads. A few chattering figures passing him by before an attempt at robbery was made on his person, faster than he had originally expected. The hooded figure demanding money or death, and Kru'Gorah' 'face' fell to despair as he fell to his knees and produced a coin purse to spare his life. The hooded figure giving him a solid kick before running off quickly. The priest once again standing up and continuing his guise without the slightest inkling of shame. He would do whatever it took to succeed. The proximity of The Fairchild guarded more securely so any further robbery was staved off as he was then stopped by the two guards. "State yer business stranger" "There's a fee ta get in, fifty gold or get the fuck outta 'ere priest" Kru'Gorah bowing his head and producing another purse of coin that weighed far more than fifty gold "I only seek providence with The Hippogriff, my flock need treatment that I cannot provide them...I must turn to...alternative measures of betterment." He said with derision, his hands shambling in desperation. The guards looking at one another and swiping the pouch before opening the door "Don't cause any trouble in their clergyman, no souls worth savin in there". Kru'Gorah entering the bar with a smile as white as his eyes as he immediately felt the warm interior with bar seats taken by quieted souls drinking away their sorrows, more guards moving back and forth from a set of double doors that were constantly being monitored. Eyes darting toward him with suspicion before realizing it was a priest and either sighing or simply shaking their and returning to their beer. Kru'Gorah moving toward the staircase and making his way up to the second floor where workers were shuffling crates of contraband out on pulleys. It seemed that they only had guards on the first floor...she certainly felt safe here didn't she? A snicker escaping his clenched teeth as he made his way toward an office with a glass window. A tall, stout woman with alabaster skin seen sitting at a desk; wings of gray folded at her back. There was no mistaking the aasimar. A few knocking causing her robust voice to call "Come In!" "What kind are you looking for, and how much?" Was her first response as he entered and closed the door, approaching her desk with another bow. It seemed she was no stranger to these sorts of interactions and made a note to keep them brief and concise. Assassination attempts never crossed her mind, and while he didn't want to ruin this opportunity...the stink of her heritage interested him. "'Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.' A curious fellow once wrote that quite famously, and it dared made me too, wonder what such dreams could mean. Neither of us are mortal and yet are there still dreams our kind couldn't fathom? is this the dream of the angels your race came from I wonder?" He questioned; her firmness turning to confusion and then to anger as she attempted to stand up. Something curling under her desk and mooring her to her chair. An appendage Kru'Gorah was quite known for. "What the hell do you think your doing? Do you know who I-" "Marissa Silverwind, of course...but I am more curious in what you are. An Aasimar? the race graced to us by the holies themselves? Would they not look down onto your gilded bar encroached by disease and drug abuse, would they not weep? Hark for their child is astray. Do you believe your gods are real? I certainly know mine is, and he is going to be gracing this town that always weeps with his leadership." "You think you can just muscle in on my turf? With your fancy talk and gods? You best leave now before there is trouble" She warned "I am afraid that much like the rain, trouble is all around you and is seeping into every cracking brick and rotting plank, take stock of the situation if you will, I did not muscle in...I walked in." The priest taking a step closer as his tail snaked up her form and gripped her with inhuman strength, crushing the wind from her lungs "Here me now hippogriff, your namesake only works when you possess the mighty wings of a bird does it not? pray tell...what is a hippogriff without it's wings?" A hand sweeping across the desk and causing it to crash through the office and slam into the door, heavy knocks and calls from the other side immediately causing her to shout for help with what breath she had; the desk being shoved over as the door swung open, another flick of his hand causing the door to swing to a hard close and catch one of the workers mid entrance; splitting him in half and spraying viscera across the glass as screams and shouts were heard. His tail dragging her to his feet as she tried to use her strength to break free, snarling angrily at him as she was set on her knees. His tail leaving a gap where her wings reflexively tried to flap and get her out of danger. His hands reaching out and gripping firmly at the base of each wind. Her angered snarls turning to desperate pleas as she realized what was transpiring "It is by my god of unholy fire and holy impure that has allowed me to see the error of my ways, to once again prove my worth to his might. I seek to be his holy mouthpiece now, to produce for him a gospel all will bow and listen to. For every god there must be sacrifices made in his name, be proud to be a foundation to his might" The priest dragging her by her wings and swinging the door open once more where he saw terrified workers looking from the staircase before shouting that 'he had the boss'. Some of the workers tried to fight him, but he flung them into the walls, and outside windows. Doing as instructed and keeping the bloodshed to a minimum. Followers don't posses the same fervor when they are dead afterall. Kru'Gorah dragging her down the stairs and into the bar once more where the guards stood blocking the door while some of the patrons had fled while others were struck with paralyzing fear as the priest' grin cast over them. "Fight me, she will die. We are going to have a sermon outside so follow me outside all of you...or you will all die" He warned. Marissa being put on her knees before the broken road and deplaced neighborhood she ruled. The vagrants peeking from their hovels and looking on at the display, more beginning to crowd them now as the bar cleared out in the same fashion. the guards tense and gritting their teeth as they watched The Priest once again grips either of her wings. " We are all here today to cast divine judgement upon the divine themselves, Aasimar were once noble and powerful prefects to the gods themselves! She is a mockery of her race and can only be forgiven in prayer. You wayward souls who follow her, drink from her goblet, and beg at her steeple...all of you shall participate for if you don't...the source for which your goblet fills will be lost. If you repeat after me a single inscrutable word that shows the passion of the one who shall rule this kingdom of sodom anew...she shall go free...now repeat after me" "Amen" "...Amen..." A collective gasp swelling through the crowd as a flesh ripping pull, followed by a sharp agonizing scream was heard. The aasimar collapsing as The priest held her wings aloft "Behold! the truth that none of you ever cared for her! If you did then you would have repeated my passion! These wings are only deserving of those who dare to fly with them, she grounded herself long ago...now once again" He called, dropping her wings to the ground and putting both hands on either side of her head "Amen" "A..men..." Much of the crowd dispersing in horrified screams as Her head was twisted around with such ferocity and grace that she now stared back at him with fading surprise that turned to sorrowful death. The guards immediately attempting to charge him, but something swift and blurred swept them off their feet. Kru'Gorah picking up the wings and running paled fingers through the delicate feathers "I shall take your wings, and fly to heights you never could...false angel"
  11. A haze took over Kru'Gorah with a fury he hadn't expected. This Vito unleashing something inside of him he hadn't felt since the days of yore where his master brought ruin without mercy. The monastery' agony still lingered as rubble continued to slough off the mountain as though they had no further purpose but to collapse into dust. The terror that lingered in the air was unseen to all but the Djinn in disguise. It was the source of his sustenance and power; it was becoming overpowering to him now as he felt the fleshy disguise he had taken begin to break down against the manifesting strength he had purposely drained before this plan had been executed. He didn't want to fail his lord' desires...but how could he deny this foe such deserved dread? Saliva filling the cracks in his splitting lips as a leathery tongue licked wildly as he called himself a coward. He feasted upon the terror of others, and cowards were a exquisite brand of their own...but his words betrayed what Kru'Gorah could smell. There was courage dwelling within this one's heart and it started to exhume to the surface as A mighty ship bellowed into the scene with gregarious might. His eyes of putrescent orange flicking toward those who were fleeing to find sanctuary upon the ship itself. They were escaping whilst Vito held off his aggressor. A caustic laugh dripping from his perforating lips "You speak of cowardice as though it is your strength, but that flickering courage is what I want to...test in length~" His voice dripping like oil Vito began to charge forward and he could hardly contain himself now as A wide spaded tail unfurled with seemingly limitless length as it twitched with excitement. He would've asked Dredge if he could reveal himself, but...he was no longer on the battlefield. He was always off doing bigger and badder things...so perhaps in this case it would be easier to ask for forgiveness...than permission. The volley of ballista bolts soared to strike Kru'Gorah down; piercing his flesh with merciless accuracy as A new foe joined the attack and with both Vito and Gallung, the head of the dracolich was split in twain. The bandit remaining still as blood pooled from his wounds...a sound of cracking heard before his back exploded with viscera as something climbed from his back now as the husk of the bandit fell over in a miserable heap. Their true foe now standing before them. A dog legged creature that stood much higher than the fleshy suit it had once adorned. The fellow demon that now stood against him declared Kru'Gorah to be an enemy he would see dead, his leathery skin marred with wounds of the endless battles he has thrown himself in. His head turning toward them to reveal an elongated face split into a jagged toothed grin; eyes of smoldering orange piercing the two of them as two horns spiraled forth from his head and perched like an unholy crown atop his head. "The depths of hell were full of weak cowards who gave me no thrill; It is this earth so filled with warriors that I now slake my thirst to spread terror...and kill" A long breath being sucked in as the despair, depression, anger, sadness, and hopelessness these lands have suffered in only a short amount of time being absorbed as he feasted upon the terror they had endured; his body swelling in size and height as spines erupted from his elbows and head. A scream erupted from his splitting jaws that caused the bandits who were already retreating from the ship fire to run even faster. Their terror being feasted on as they hadn't known such a monster was among them. His segmented tail firing forth with a speed all it's own toward Garllung as Kru'Gorah bared down upon Vito, two sets of claws threatening to rend the flesh from his bones. @Rabbit @squid peanut
  12. (Credit to Ms may) A precursor of what's to come even I'm not prepared ?
  13. A new legion thread? That I'm being summoned to? Well count me in! Stealth missions are not my strong suit but then again they can't know you're there if they're Dead!
  14. These weren't mere run of the mill heroes he had added to the vast tapestry of tortured souls he had grown accustomed to. A curious interference severing some of his tethers and causing animated corpses to lose their leashes. A whistle from their abhorrent master causing the rest of the tethers to be released; the undead becoming far less sedated and clawing their wretched fingers against the solid shields of their defenders. His influence over them broken and only adding to their collecting defense. The unfortunate soul however, used up a great deal of might in mitigating his master's work. The wave of terror this unleashed might brought upon was nearly as potent as his displays at Last Chance. He could feel the disguise wane and crack as eyes of putrescent orange broke through the surface of his face as he tasted upon the monk's terrified chasms of immeasurable sorrow. The cataclysm of mountainous rocks cratering the grounds around them as ally and foe were crushed alike. A shadow visage slashing behind the 'necromancer' and splitting a boulder in twain; each chunk hurtling into the grounds on either side of his stride as he made his way toward courageous prey who dared take his loyalty for desperation. The blur of movement behind him vanishing amidst the continuing hoards. Pillars of magma snaking forth and consuming his unholy horde in terrible ashen agony. The form Kru'Gorah had taken beginning to creak and groan as bone broke through skin; the terror he was breathing in as such destruction laid waste to the monastery. The bandit shaking off this wave of over-stimulation and raised his blackening hands; his disguise was failing because his body's natural response to it's food source. If all he had to do was keep any evidence of his faction out of this then perhaps he could put some of that cunning he had learned from Dredge to work. The blackening hands reducing to bony fingers that produced a terrible visage. The head of a billowing dracolich firing from the flesh sloughed hands of the bandit and careening into the dirt; it's snout plowing a cascade of corpses and dirt into the volatile snakes of magma. Vito' eyes catching the uprooting of ground scouring the earth next to the caster; an attack launching from their side flank as the ground gave way to something that split into one of their shields and reeled back with unnatural strength. An attack from multiple sides as the bandit focused upon the dracolich advance from the front. A squadron of bandits attempting to take advantage of this opening despite the danger of the magma; The dragon freezing the corpses and earth into a frigid mass that wrught massive pyres of steam. Kru'gorah knew that he would have to keep his physicality in check otherwise he would be made out and fail his god king, but they could not credit evidence of his involvement based solely on the work of...his tail could they? The tail a wide spaded masterpiece of destruction with metallic, chitounous material making it's guillotine edge a deadly adversary. The tail continuing to hide underneath the bed of blood soaked earth as it flung forward again and rammed into another proud shield. "It is easy to fight for those already dead; To protect those still alive brings true dread" He cackled with a strained voice of choking restraint, a weak body such as this beginning to crack at the seems against his corruption. The bandit snapping his leg bones back and swinging a heavy kick into the dracolich's skull and smashed it against the wall of ice it was creating; shattering the ice into a razor hail that created a concussive wave around the snakes themselves. "Am I not what you train for? An ultimate terror smashing upon your door? what are YOU WAITING FOR?" @Rabbit
  15. Soul eater is one of my favorite anime of all time; Stein is the source of all my madman archetypes, Absolutely count me in on this I literally have a scrap book somewhere full of weapon and Meister ideas. I've resurrected and am so pumped, I'm torn between either type so pick your favorite and I'll follow suite cause both are too good
  16. The shift from the searing dessert to the skin biting winds attempting to assault both his body and spirit were a testament to the wintered legacy Shawnee' lands had accrued. The distance of the hut only half a mile more, yet the blizzard continued to blanket blinding white snow. Sikko' footfalls growing more labored as he was forced to kick through tumultuous snowfall. A frigid ten minutes passing before he started to see this hovel in greater detail. A worn exterior of wind stripped wood with an oval shape that betrayed it's initial size. The thickly woven goat fur door standing nearly twelve feet tall as the hut itself nearly doubled that. The thatch that made up the roof seeming to buffer much of the wind and so as Sikko approached this bizarre hut; he was able to adjust his vision. A lantern providing a beacon against the quickly approaching dark, swinging on a hook next to the door itself. Sikko nearly being crushed by the door as it swung open mere inches from his frost bitten form. Heat pouring forth from the interior as though it were a furnace. A massive wolven greeting him with a brusque "I could smell you a mile away, You hairless ding dongs are gonna freeze if your not prepared for shawnee." The wolven a race that existed primarily in the high ice caps of Shawnee; Giant humanoid creatures that used their wolf attributes to survive this harsh environment and even thrive. A primarily selfish people who did not rob nor pillage, but nor did they treat outsiders well. The well being of their tribe always paramount. This wolven stood nearly as tall as the door frame with the pointed ears perched at the top of her head being squished as she stood in the threshold. The giant adorned in a sleeveless breast-plate of black wrought iron and greaves of the same make. Her fur peppered black and grey with swirls of white that curled up her arms and perched at her cheeks. Her muzzle contorted in a cheshire smirk as her potent blue eyes scanned him and his companion over. "Well shit, I can't let your ass freeze out there so come on in." She said, turning around and sweeping her tail so that it cleared the snow from her porch, closing the door when he entered. Warmth started to seep into their bones as though it were a cherished spirit returning to it's body. the interior cozy and staggering in it's scale differenct from many inns and stops he had made elswhere on his journey. A single table with chairs with a pot of fresh stew just put out to cool. A fireplace in the back, crackling with hungry flames as the wolven threw another log on to keep the flames bright. A large singular bed tucked into the corner with a chest and a single shelf for belongings, a small stove with a single cabinet making up the kitchen. a freshly carved rabbit hanging off to the side. A ladder leading to a second floor fused to the wall just to the left of the entry way. "Ever since those black hearted fucks tried to destroy this place, ive been stuck out here in the watchtower...making sure nothing shady goes through this pass. The only thing I get out here are stranded horse hitches freezing their asses off!" She grumbled, sighing as she sat in a chair with a wooden groan, waving an idle hand over to the fireplace "Go sit over there and get yourself warmed up dumb-sicle. Names Rivana." She said with a snort, continuing to stir the stew. "So what the hell are you doing all the way out here anyway? Most people steer clear, mostly now 'cuz of the damned legion shitbags."
  17. Smoke had filled the sky and nearly blotted out the sun overhead as bandits raged in broiling massacre; town's folk suffering at the hands of bloodshed with only their incessant screams to be heard. Their heads being held aloft amidst their very loved one's still vying for escape from this fresh hell that had been released upon them. Heroes of all kinds answered when their senses were assailed with the terror and desperation that clung to the air. Kru'Gorah had felt stunted in their time of transformation; A war machine without war is useless after all. it was only when this plan had come to fruition did he feel that surge of purpose ripple through his very existence. This was what he was made for! He was not allowed to show his presence, least of all his tail...but he would not rest of his laurels at such a chance for pure, untainted carnage. Kru'Gorah disguising himself under the guise of these bandit marauders,and keeping an eye on particular heroes whilst combating the common rabble. Dredge being confronted by two forces that seemed to overestimate their intuition; their was a desire to protect his lord without fail...yet he knew Dredge wasn't helpless in the slightest. His focus instead was on the group of naredowells who were managing to manipulate the earth and cut down their forces with a surprising amount of gunfire. The bandits being dropped atop the very bodies they were creating in a vicious cycle of carnage. He loathed guns, they were a vessel for hollow confidence for in the face of true terror...one's own will was the only worthwhile tool. it appeared he would have to demonstrate such. One of the bandits amidst their line of fire beginning to sprint ahead of the enraged charge, landing ahead of the group and seemingly directly in their line of fire. A bandit dressed in the pelts of a cheetah and adorning a smile that showed far too much teeth. Kru'Gorah could feel the terror in the air and it was almost becoming too intoxicating for him to contain this restraining form. This was going to be quite the delicious challenge for him Vito and Bellicose seeing this strange bandit raise his hand to the sky and with a flourishing bow, cast a tumultuous barrier of sickly orange energy that caused their last volley to ricochet back into their very own firing squad. Corpses now being made at their very feet as the bandit rose to his lowly height of five feet and clicked his heels. The barrier dimishing and being replaced by a sprawl of orange threads that squirmed their way into the bodies the deceased victims. Their bodies beginning to creak and shake as they were lifted onto their blood soaked feet. He did no know who could recognize the curse that plagued his speech so instead...he would just have others speak for him. Women and children beginning to animate with shaky foot steps and wide swings from their arms as their heads rose with dead weight to look at the group of heroes with glassy gazes "You will join us if you do not prostrate yourselves" A boy no older than nine chirped from scarred lips "They let us die" Spoke a woman whose head was held aloft by only a few remaining tendons "Will you bury us under our killers?" Spoke A burly man with his stomach splayed across the cold ground A row of these undead puppets now beginning to march ahead of this charge, absorbing bullet fire and continued to bombard them with whispers of regret, sadness, and despair. The bandit marching behind them with a grin that nearly touched either of his pointed ears. His eyes burning the same orange glow that tethered these poor souls to his will. The tethers beginning to connect with their dead comrades as they too started to sputter and shake, rising from their self inflicted wounds and grabbing at their compatriots with hollow moans. One of these puppets lunging his bayonet forth in attempt to spear the tabaxi. @Rabbit
  18. Shawnee had experienced a fair share of tragedies such a short time as the terrible faction known as the Legion Of Doom had befallen it's frozen landscape, heating it's frozen air with warfare and massacre. The forces being repelled when the neighboring clans were forced to work together against the innumerable odds. The truce among them fracturing as all ice eventually did in Shawnee. The Rime-Wind Clan the strongest voice in their pursuit to unite all clans in Shawnee so that this tragedy does not happen again. A race of wolven giants that used the frozen mountain tops as their home; A hearty people if not prideful in their strength and size. Istravi, their mystic and chief attempting to maintain their truce under the banner of their Kalikotus Festival. A festival where they celebrated The Kristal-Kotus who gifted them their lives and the very snow capped homes they thrived in. Each clan having their own beliefs, yet all worshiped The Frigid Goddess and so It was Istravi' belief that they could hold the festival with promise of a truce; each clan giving their strongest warrior to perform in their harshest tradition; The Trial Of Frostbitten Bones. It was a tradition the other clans could not deny and so both The Urumon Tribe and Hask-Hisk with many other smaller tribes agreeing to hold a collective festival for the clans of Shawnee. A Kalikotus Festival to be remembered. The Clans converging in the frost shocked valley between two vast mountain peaks where the glassy surface of the ocean spanned toward the horizon. A gathering of hundreds of tribesman and women of both human an inhuman races were beginning now as the gargantuan Rime-Winds kept vigil on any infighting that would inadvertently break out. Each tribe having their own encampments that mingled with others as relations were still tense after the bloodshed they had experienced from Dredge's forces. Bonfires and torches beginning to dot the festival landscape and light up the twilight night around them as the twelve foot wolven sat in a formation that created two colossal lines. Their drums beginning to resonate across the festival as Istravi, who was strangely much smaller than her kin, brought her voice soaring above the drums so that they all would hear her. "Hear me! Uromon, Hask-Hisk, survivors of The Legion' devastation, and beyond. We are united here by The Kalikotus Festival under our goddess of a thousand winters. It is by her frigid eye that we are all here, enduring through countless conflicts." Her voice calling to them, stirring their pride and worship. Collective cheers resounding against the steady drum beat now underlying her voice "Through the trial of frostbitten bones, we shall all find common ground and unite under traditions entrusted to us by our ancestors, for those of you who are younglings fresh to our customs may I say welcome to what is hopefully a newfound tradition for future generations to come! The Trial of Frostbitten Bones calls the bravest of souls from our clans and families, to fight a primordial force entrusted to The Rime-Winds by The Goddess ourselves. Our champions shall fight, stripped of all weapons and armor, against the element that has nurtured us and pushed our limits all our lives...You shall face an ancient water elemental with only your training and wits to see you to victory, It is a harsh trial I know, one that has cost me two of my sons...but it is the shawnee way. There can be no held punches when our own home strives to see us frozen, killed, and broken every single day...May this be a festival to remember my brothers and sisters! If we endure together than we shall prosper together!" A vitality surging through the clans as they roared cheers at her stirring words. The festival commencing in full swing now as The Wolven acted as the ever present guard toward unknown forces. Two at either peak overlooking the festival grounds as they kept their eyes peeled with several continuing to roam clans and make sure no disturbances occurred. The trial would soon begin and unbenknownst to Istravi...A new champion would emerge. @TheElementHunter
  19. Absolutely! Forgive my lateness, i finally have my schedule on track and if your still interested I am still pretty excited! You never followed up with any details so I was worried if you had given up on the project or decided a different direction. I can drum up the thread if you like!
  20. It was as though he had fabricated his very own plane of existence, several maids milling around him as they replaced his overcoat with an immaculate suit jacket that gleamed with threads of pure gold laced into it's fabric. It was as though he had adorned his mantle and the staff all bowed as he passed before continuing on with their frantic duties. He figured that it would all be too much for Rain and there was a unsettling nagging inside him that told him this could cause an opposite effect of what he was trying to accomplish. Rain was praising all the staff that assisted in his acclimation and brought such positivity that they could barely believe these two were brothers. It was a nice change of pace and with Rain here it would certainly increase morale. Constantine would have pat himself on the back if he were inclined. The elder brother beckoned for Rain to follow him down a gilded hall with lavished curtains suspended across grand windows that were so clean it was hard to tell where the sill was. "I imagine it will take some time to get used to so I want you to take your time with getting familiar with the manor in acceptable increments. There will likely be wings that you will hardly ever enter, but I don't want it to degrade your health any further" He said, making himself clear with a stalwart gaze that could cut through ice. Such eyes impossible to deny. It felt infinite in it's length due to the depictions of golden dragons swirling around the walls, each in different eras, seeming to swirl around them like far more dangerous vultures. Constantine leading them down this hall and entering through a doorway resembling the agape jaws of a dragon; teeth lining each side of the hall with a snout acting as an intimidating awning overneath their heads. The eyes depicted as a brilliant gold. It was here that he then opened two smaller red doors. A vast bedroom being revealed to Rain that was barren, yet nearly half the size of the atrium. It was fully capable of holding everything he owned with enough space to spare as it had two floors of it's very own with a small set of stairs that led down to a den. Constantine giving him the second largest bedroom this manor had. It was coincidentally a floor below his brother's own. "I trust that this will be acceptable?" He asked for posterity, already knowing the answer A ring came from Constantine's pocket, and Rain saw for a moment his face scrawl into an expression of anger. This was a very important moment for him and he had specifically made sure that he wouldn't be interrupted. It had been nearly three months since he had fired someone and that streak was now likely to end. He flipped open his phone and immediately began to seethe through the receiver before a few concise words from the other end caused his expression to lose it's edge momentarily, putting the phone to his chest and looking at Rain "This is important so I will see you at dinner. Seven sharp. Get acquainted with your new home and ring the chord by the door if you need any assistance from the staff." He said before immediately leaving through the doors. Rain catching a few broken phrases as he continued the conversation "Finally...price?...certainly...buy it out...on my way..." Constantine couldn't believe he was standing before his childhood home, He couldn't believe that they hadn't ever tried to move out of this disgusting neighborhood. They hadn't tried to better themselves...not even once. It made him sick. He could feel unsavory eyes upon him just standing at the rusted gates, but the two security guards on either side of him would keep any ill will in check. He couldn't help but click his teeth in absolute derision as he forced his legs to move forward. A swift knock on the door caused the interior of the decrepit home to scurry and frantically move about. It pleased him to hear them squirm. It would make this all the more gratifying as the door slowly opened and for the first time since he left this wretched place. He and his mother met eyes and hers immediately widened. A myriad of emotions scrawling across her lecherous, bloated features before she called for his father who swung the door open the rest of the way. This was all impromptu due to the timing so all he was able to dress himself in was a double breasted suit with emeralds as buttons and platinum etched down the shoulders and hemming of his pants. It didn't matter as he still could feel the sheer difference in their status now and for the second time that day. He smiled. the smile nearly covering his entire face as his eyes ignited like ominous lights in utter darkness. "Greetings, Peasants. It is my absolute pleasure to inform you that I have bought out this property. I now own this skid mark and by extension...you" He said. His teeth all the brighter as he saw the surprise twist into realization and then horror. "Before those festering lips have a chance to sputter more lies; allow me to be clear. I am....a gracious god" He seethed, almost slathering himself in utter ecstasy over finally vindicating himself after all these years. It had originally been about rain...but much like all things...it wound up being about Constantine in the end. "You will be able to live out your miserable lives here without worry as I am now the owner of this filthy phylactery. The only rule in place as it stands is quite simple. You are too cut all connections with Rain. You will no longer take his money or his kindness. you deserve none of it" He barked swinging the door open the rest of the way as he marched into the home. the two backpedaling in complete shock at the sudden situation. The security standing guard at the door "Tell me...did you ever take him to any hospitals or clinics? Any medical foresight at all? Of course you didn't. So then tell me this...does it bother you in the slightest that he is dying? Don't answer that. Understand that the debts you have accrued under this roof pale in comparison to the ones you've gained from...unsavory sources. If you do not heed my stipulations...this shit hole will be your coffin. Do we have an understanding? Good. Now let us never meet again." He said, not bothering with their attempt at a counter argument as he stepped back outside. He laughed and it surprised him. He hadn't felt this good in ages. that was one loose end taken care of. A point of stress Rain will no longer suffer. The next point of stress was the more difficult one Ursula
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