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-Malice-

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About -Malice-

  • Rank
    Fiend
  • Birthday 11/11/1985

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  1. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    I can confirm Malice is not -officially- allied/tied to Abaddon. It was much more of a personal deal with Agony, in order to gain intel through his connections etc.
  2. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    He'll be out winning hearts and minds ;) - the Cardells already worship him, it was established back in that thread in 2015 -Also the map still isn't working from the Lore page. (Not sure if you've had a chance to tend to it yet, but it looks like the broken html code has moved from centre to left or something from last time, so maybe? but if you have then it's still not loading for me).
  3. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    That's the Winding Wyrm, Lord Cardell's lands >.> (i'm writing the lore now)
  4. Gardens garnished with Gore

    Depression is a deceptive beast, clawing from within whilst facades frustrate its discovery Tilting his head to one side, as though considering the revelations that Agony imparted, Malice mulled the prospects of the Triumvirate over in his mind, knowing well the forces that were arrayed against them, as even regular Orisian soldiers had been bolstered by the training his tutelage had provided. Smuggling the Black Queen out of the country would serve as an apt demonstration of this group's abilities, the Warlord concluded, though he'd want them to survive the ordeal so they could serve him in future, so he would ensure his own legion did not directly intervene in their attempt. Curiously though, it was not the audacity of Agony's scheme which gave the monster pause, for he had endured countless lifetimes, and witnessed worlds most men could only dream of, no the thing that struck him most in that moment was the depth of the creature's insight into Gabriela, and his own inability to comprehend her conundrum. The Black Queen's prison, he reflected, was one of her own making, as duty damned her to an eternity of despair, and yet this was a foe he could not kill, a phenomenon that even he, God of the Astral sea, could not placate with his power. It was the very detachment that Malice maintained from emotions which might prove to be Gabriela's undoing, and so, rather than react with rage, the Warlord met the stranger's speech with a cold acceptance, much as a surgeon would turn to a priest, once a patient's flesh was beyond their expertise. Responding to Agony telepathically once more, lest others eavesdrop upon their endeavour, the dreadnought like dominion over psionics which Malice held would resound meaningfully in the creature's head, whilst the fiend expressed his desires and outlined the way in which their plot would progress. Take her then, and let her learn from the trials that await. Rafael saw fit to shoulder her burden in the throne room, so let him be your contact, should the pursuit of politics please the Trumvirate; for I have no taste for it myself. In Truth, however, the absence of the Queen would be a crucible for Orisia's new king, a furnace which would forge him into a firm and wise ruler in the eyes of the Warlord, for he cared little for the Empire Rafael had claimed in the past, it was his deeds now that would determine the respect that Malice would afford them, not titles torn from lands grown distant in the days to come. Twisting two gauntleted fingers, the juggernaut sealed their pact by twirling these digits through the air, enacting ancient symbols both alien and beautiful in their intricacy, as he drew upon the vast reservoir of energy Dark La'Ruta granted to him and, without so much as a word, tied Agony's own essence into the tangle of its strings. This gesture would allow the creature to experience a fraction of the sway he himself held over the potent magic of the Island, until the very atoms of their vicinity began to palpably vibrate with untapped potential. It was in this fashion that Agony would discover that La'Ruta was everywhere upon this Isle, from the smallest blade of grass to the deepest mountain root, a force which could be used to create, as readily as it could destroy. What Malice didn't reveal, however, was that with Gabriela plucked from Orisia, like the petals of some exotic flower, La'Ruta would surge wildly, potentially even enhancing the Warlord's own affinity with it, as the one being in all the land who could counter-balance his fervour would be snatched from its bosom. One has but to believe, to reshape the world, the avatar intoned, demonstrating the limitless heights his own power had already achieved upon the Summer Isle, as his other hand extended, and a shadow swept over the garden, bathing their surroundings in darkness, as through sheer will alone, Malice manoeuvred Irkalla above their heads. Regarding Agony with a sinister smile, the juggernaut left the creature standing there, overwhelmed perhaps with the possibilities they had just unlocked, as he leapt into the air and, without relinquishing his weapons or lowering his guard, unfurled two obsidian wings, before soaring into the sky toward the floating fortress' waiting belly once more. I expect to hear from you soon, for eventually this world too shall fall..
  5. Gardens garnished with Gore

    Often sought, yet seldom found, it is opportunity which eases acquiescing to fate, if one but exploits it Vigilance, constant, consuming, that is what Agony and his intrepid adventurers had encountered this night, cavorting amongst a court comprised of monsters, where kindred gathered in droves. Little did the Warlord realize, however, in that moment of strength, with an army at his back and a blade at his foe's throat, that Orisia had never been more vulnerable, never been more imperilled as it was that night, where Malice's excessive aggression had revealed one miscreant, and driven the others into hiding. That was the problem with the juggernaut, upon reflection, for one did not delegate the duty of a guard to a lord of war, and yet that was the role Malice had adopted of late, girding Gabriela against her foes, as though they held the might of a legion at their back. That was the beautiful irony with Agony's situation, because his presence had been formidable enough to warrant the Warlord's intervention, and yet those self-same merciless manoeuvres had driven the Queen right toward her would-be assailants. For the moment though, the creature sung sweetly of its suffering, as Malice annihilated its exterior, and sent shivers toward its very heart, eliciting a scream which the Great Devourer regarded as delicious, as dread dominated Agony's senses, and his persona grew pliable. The scuffle that the two of these beasts had unleashed was familiar to the ancient fiend, a dance so delicate that it had become muscle-memory by now, as the black swordsman drank his enemy's replies and prepared a deal so many others had courted long before it. First there had been Azbael'tiur, a daemon who dwelt in the abyss and lapped at the souls of any who trespassed within its lair, the spirit of that creature had burned Malice to his core, and yet his will had proven superior, and now it languished eternally within the blade tanar'ri had dubbed FiendWrath, for its eagerness to slay their kin. Next had come Xert'aer, the greatest warrior of the Hith race, the only witness to the genocide the Warlord had wrought, before its being was bound into the monster's flesh and tempered into the armour which adorned his form, even to this day. Finally Agony had met Maztikichion, the creeping curse, a behemoth born of Negative energy, whose degenerative touch Malice had moulded into a cloak, a shroud to shield him from the most potent of adversaries. Briefly, the tyrant had considered adding Agony to this menagerie, the latest and, in time, perhaps greatest weapon he could wield against his adversaries, but that thought had disappeared as quickly as it had surfaced, and instead a scheme slithered through the avatar's skull, a plot so perverse that its horror might never truly be uncovered. Instead of flaying the flower, before ever it had the chance to bloom then, Malice allowed his aura to recede slightly, draping across him as though it were a veil but lingering still, lest Agony grow emboldened by its withdrawal. A deep and thunderous baritone projected words into the space the abyssal tide had just retracted from next, addressing the creature as an equal, rather than a beast to be broken by his boot. 'Then power you shall have my friend, the strength to snuff out stars, if that is what thou would desire', and here he paused, sweeping his shield about their vicinity meaningfully, before continuing, 'but see that the constellations you covet do not belong in Orisian skies, lest we again are brought to blows'. Switching systematically to telepathy, almost as if it were a reflex for the Warlord, such was his mastery, he added simply, tell me of this Triumvirate and its designs, and I shall reward you. Whisper the secrets spat in lands not my own, and none save I shall have the stomach to oppose you. Were Agony to agree to these demands, then he would find an aspect of Dark La'ruta unveiled to him, especially if he revealed the organisation's current scheme, and informed Malice about Gabriela's impending departure; after all, the Queen yet had one lesson left to learn..
  6. Gardens garnished with Gore

    Wisdom comes not from knowledge alone, but instead the experience of when to stay one's sword Stone splintered, carvings cracked, and the world trembled as two creatures collided like colossi, as the wonder of the woe they wrought that night was revealed, and the undulating mass of Agony's midsection struck against Malice's shield. Knees strained, joints groaned, but the Warlord did not relent in his advance, bracing against the tremendous blow from his foe, whilst FiendWrath still gnawed hungrily upon the matter which maintained the stranger's form. The fountain behind the two fared differently, however, a deep crack rippling outward through the ground beneath Malice's feet and splitting a statue clean in two, as the behemoth countered the kinetic force of Agony's blow with both his inhuman strength, and the momentum he had already mustered. Bristling like cankered coral, the jagged spines upon the Warlord's back writhed in response to Oathripper's latest assault, intercepting its intent and preventing it from either slashing into Malice himself, or from returning to the host from which it came, interposing an indomitable barrier between it and the creature that, even now, began to realize the malevolence of its master. Angling their edges outward and away from Malice's body, these protrusions resembled a reef designed to deflect, rather than necessarily halt the path of the scythe itself, in a similar fashion that a samurai's armour would subdue the strikes of a rival. This ensured that, should Agony somehow possess a device far keener than the Warlord's bulwark could endure, that its attack would still prove fruitless, given the cunning and battle-tested boundary it now posed. The weapon which had wounded Agony, albeit less viciously than it would have liked, howled within Malice's mind suddenly, as the ichor of its quarry's ooze sought to expand and engulf the juggernaut's arm; performing a last-ditch attempt to impede the Warlord's wrath, now that FiendWrath had found purchase upon their enemy's flesh. This manoeuvre would have been devastating, had Malice not encountered similar techniques in the past, and so the third of his sentient defences was revealed in that moment, as a beast which commonly dwelt upon the edges of reality sprung into being. Once, the Abyssal Aura of the fiend had been a leviathan, an entity of legend upon the Negative Energy Plane, but the Great Devourer had defeated this abomination, and much like many others before it, bound the being's will to his own avatar's frame. The symbiotic relationship which Malice and his aura enjoyed then was one of mutual survival, for whenever it felt its master threatened it was compelled to react, manifesting around the monster's form and extending its degenerative touch outward, disintegrating any foreign matter it came into contact with. This was but the prelude to the onslaught to follow, however, because the Warlord, having found his earlier mark, now adapted FiendWrath's vorpal edge to Agony's unique resonance upon the plane, thereby allowing it to cleave through the plate which girded them, as readily as it had just gored into the matter beneath his arm. Performing a diagonally descending slash, Malice would therefore unleash an attack which would inevitably eradicate yet more of the stranger's form; affording the ooze no time to regenerate, but simply erasing its existence upon the plane itself, as though a storm were snuffing out a candle's flame, never again to spark anew. It was as doom courted Agony's curves though, that Malice's machinations appeared to change, for assuming his assault succeeded, and his adversary again suffered the languish of loss, the fiend would begin his interrogation, staying his sword for a moment, whilst the two skulls mounted upon his massive shoulders sprung into life. Grotesque trophies of a bygone age, one fixed opposite the other upon his left and right mantle, these fixtures were certainly not human, but instead warriors whom he had conquered, creatures from myriad origins, that only in death found purpose, serving his sadistic whims. 'Why have you come to Orisia?', one chattered, whilst the other continued, 'Why did you seek to deceive our Lord?' Malice maintained his vigil upon his opponent as his minions spoke, lest they decide to fight anew and welcome the oblivion he offered, but as the first skull chimed once more, he suspected that Agony might prove far more useful than mere dust beneath his heel, if they but cooperated with his queries. 'Does your allegiance lie with the Crimson King?'
  7. Gardens garnished with Gore

    Addiction is as intoxicating as it is deadly, for absence of something is a suffering few men may bare for long When his opponent adopted a new appearance, a cold and cruel smile curled at the corners of the fiend's black lips, as he watched familiar armaments encircle the creature's form, steel the shade of coal, whose bleak expanse drank light as though it were alive. Flattering though this development may have been, Malice recognised the peril that this technique posed, as an enemy's abilities were assimilated, and turned upon those for whom such tactics had become a crutch, a juxtaposition which would doubtless prove overwhelming, in time. Assessing the situation, the Warlord began to perform lightning-fast calculations within his mind, whilst Agony took the bait and engaged the monster in conversation, buying Malice valuable time to study the scythe, along with the slender tendril which served as its shaft; a feat accelerated exponentially, by his adversary mimicking his own muscular frame and proportions. Situated within a courtyard, with little save a small fountain to impede the inquisitions of one, and the intentions of another, the figures were identical now, aside from the weapons which they wielded, for whilst Agony appeared to favour the reach of a blade mounted upon a polearm, the juggernaut had long preferred the versatility of a sword. It was this decision which would become crucial in the moments to come, as Agony's appendage strained and unleashed a horizontal slash toward Malice's skull, a savage swing which would normally have been betrayed by a creature's muscles, as tendons grew taut and shoulders flexed in anticipation. This was a strange amorphous enemy though, whose skill the Great Devourer had not underestimated, and so rather than fixate upon a single point alone, the warrior had born witness to the entirety of his shadow's structure, searching for the faintest indication of intent. When Oathripper began to extend then, Malice tensed himself in preparation and, the very second it started to swing, the swordsman suddenly surged forwards, utilising the scythe's own momentum against his opponent. Originating upon Agony's right side, and proceeding to perform the path of a horizontal slash toward the juggernaut's head, the unexpected advance of the Warlord would elude the weapon's vicious head, as he strode swiftly toward his quarry, slipping past both Agony's guard and the effective range of the scythe alike, as his enhanced agility propelled him in a straight line, compared to the cumbersome careening arc of Oathripper. Agony would realize now that the monster's mammoth bulk belied the haste they could muster, a speed so inhuman it surpassed the celerity of any vampire who had stalked Orisian land of late. Although this manoeuvre would logically avoid the inevitable trajectory of his adversary's scythe, Malice did not relinquish his defences for a second, raising his shield to gird him against any assaults which might arrive from Agony's midsection, as he cleanly lurched between the creature's outstretched arms. Instead of merely avoiding his enemy's advance, however, the Warlord launched a simultaneous counter-attack of his own, thrusting FiendWrath toward the creature's armpit, intending to pierce the region where plate commonly articulated, thereby leaving a small section exposed in order for the owner to move. The diagonally ascending jab contained sufficient strength behind it to grievously gore into whatever substance lay beneath the suit, though the infernal blade itself would prove to be the problem, should its ravenous tip sink home, for the beast bound within the sword would annihilate matter upon contact with its vorpal length. This was not the only horror that Malice would unveil that night though, for even as he initiated his countermeasure, a fraction of his will crept into the ancient armour that he wore and awoke the presence which he had bound to his flesh aeons ago, a sentience which shifted the back of his suit with little more than a thought. Spines sculpted themselves out of this malleable material, as the armour itself willed woe upon its master's adversary, erupting like jagged towers of teeth to impede any retaliation from the scythe, once Malice had slipped beyond its current threatening reach. It was in that moment, that Malice would grant this creature agony it had not experienced before, it was on that night, that it would feel the pain of loss
  8. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    Thank you @FirePenguinDiscoPanda for the compliment. I've been Rping Malice online since 1998 in the days of Ayenee/Yahoo Chat (yes he's almost 20 years old now/probably oldest char on Valucre lol), so his sheet has undergone several iterations over the years. I still need to update it actually, since that hasn't been done in a while, but i've been pretty busy IRL so haven't really found the time lately. If you're interested in his personal story on Valucre, I used to update a thread called 'Memoirs of a Monster', which links to a lot of the old threads he's been in on here. You can find this by clicking on my profile and then looking in the 'about me' section. :)
  9. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    Bear with me because that was a lot of questions lol/points - La'Ruta --> If you're just changing her physical form then that should not really alert Malice, since he would still sense her 'essence'. Animal idea--> A bird might work, but as I think you said elsewhere, definitely not a Peacock because 1. they're the Queen's property and 2. Much more recognizable (obviously) overall, due to plummage etc. I'd probably advise something domestic like a dog, or maybe something smaller..like a pheasant? Security--> Here's where it gets complicated lol, since the lore hasn't been updated for this in a couple of years (though is partly in the process of being done currently). Additionally, some older pictures seem to have been hosted on photobucket etc so no longer work. From what I remember, DuGrace castle itself could only be accessed via bridges (so assume checkpoints at each one of these), with possibly the Capital of Versilla beneath it. I have hurriedly googled this picture for you, which is the closest I can get atm to what I remember it looking like: As far as the garden itself is concerned, I would assume there is a large curtail wall (at the very least) to keep intruders out/allow the Queen to peruse the flowers in peace etc. There would probably be a guarded gate/possibly heavily locked side gate you could employ to smuggle her out though, and from there get her into the capitol's streets etc. Patrols--> Cody/Praetorian used to maintain a general overview of the types of forces you might encounter here: Specifically section 13: Patrols It used to have an actual map (hence the spam of acronyms/keys), but unfortunately that seems to be one of the pictures which is broken/has not been converted over from photobucket, so I guess just wing it based on the general info of patrols and don't 100% worry about the layout. Customs--> Okay so to clarify here, Malice's Barbed Legion only technically back up the Orisian army (since they're utter overkill for things like standard ship checks), so if you can manage to be pretty inconspicuous and sail out on a normal vessel then feel free to just RP getting checked by normal border patrols etc. If you're exiting on an airship though (I saw that idea thrown around somewhere in here), then Malice's daemons would definitely be the one's conducting the search (since I don't think Orisia has an airforce/the ability to check those?). Malice has two floating fortresses, however, and a slew of flying daemons which could hop over to check things out. Details about Malice's troops can be found here: If you scroll down on my character sheet, there is an overview of the fortresses (well a picture, their actual details are only known to a few lol), along with the flying Vrock, who would probably conduct an airship search. If you have someone that can forge paperwork or anything that would probably make things go much smoother as well. Overall I apologise that there's not really more information readily to hand, I wasn't actually around when Gabi first developed this plot with you guys (busy with Uni etc lol), so have had 0 chance to prepare anything.
  10. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    Yeah as long as you're not all 'grab the queen quickly!' at the top of your voice, Malice should have no reason to suspect anything initially. (He can technically sense the Queen through their La'Ruta shit, but we can play it off that he still 'senses her in the area', so assumes all is well).
  11. Gardens garnished with Gore

    Truth seldom tumbles from tongues, save when tempted by a blade The gardens looked magnificent that night, a wonderland of snow wrought by Wayne, the Black Queen's personal decorator, for much like the castle's interior, an enchantment had blanketed the world in a crisp carpet of white. Frost clung to flowers as though lovers entwined, whilst lights were interlaced throughout thicket and tree, rendering the otherwise blooming region into a paradise for child and courtier alike. It was into this serenity that conflict crashed, and the ground sprayed snow like tears, as first one figure and then another came thundering down upon the smooth stone beneath; for La'Ruta was thick about them that eve, and the elegant marble cracked before the Warlord's might. Armour lay broken now, crumpled and crushed amidst a tangle of flesh, as the remnant's of Agony's disguise began to dissipate, psuedo-skin spiralling away within the soothing midnight breeze, as the creature masquerading as Dolor shed their facade and oozed obscenely from each and every tear within the rent suit. In stark contrast to the ruin that Malice had wrought, the Warlord himself appeared entirely unaffected by the seventy foot drop from the throne room above, sleek obsidian plate contorting unnaturally, as his massive bulk landed in the garden below. If Agony had been watching the warrior's descent he would, perhaps, have witnessed a curious phenomenon during the juggernaut's flight though; for once they had leapt clear of the Castle wall, gravity seemed to almost flee before his passage, refusing to effect the beast at first and then, once within ten feet of the ground, suddenly snatching desperately at their form. Normally, an adversary might have underestimated Agony, believing them destroyed by the blast which had thrust the creature out of the throne room far above, but Malice was no mercenary marred by hubris, hailing from lands older than Valucre itself, and so he had encountered countless horrors, nightmares made flesh which had wreathed worlds in flame. Perhaps that was why the Warlord's guard never faltered, why his conviction never wavered, maintaining a vigil upon Dolor's corpse and observing with interest, as the entity restructured itself, adopting a shape far closer to their natural state. Rather than rushing in then, Malice entertained this rebirth, studying each and every inch of the stranger's frame, as two pits in place of eyes gnawed hungrily upon the sight, cycling through spectrums which transcended mortal minds, as Agony was finally laid bare before his lidless and withering gaze. Wielding his infamous longsword FiendWrath in his right hand, and girding his left with Styx his circular shield, the black swordsman regarded Agony with an eagerness that had long burned within their breast, a hunger for bloodshed which Gabriela had incited, before burying him behind endless duties, and paperwork. 'Tonight creature, you shall discover the meaning of pain'.
  12. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    @Tyler I think she's going in to have the baby at 12pm her time...today? (She's like 6-8 hours behind me timezone wise). If she hasn't managed to reply to you by this evening GMT (my time), then I'll look into the animals for you.
  13. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    Anytime - Orisia is in the process of undergoing a lore revamp atm, so I wasn't sure if border procedure was pinned anywhere, but that should give you guys an indiciation of how it might work. This is one of the few that is pinned though, detailing how tech malfunctions etc whilst there. Hopefully in the future we'll have clear stickys to aid players in such interactions :).
  14. OoC I: The Abbadon Triumvirate

    Hello evil plotters, your friendly neighbourhood Warlord here. If it helps the brainstorming any, here is an old example of the customs procedure that ships encounter when passing in/out of Orisian territorial waters. You'll have to forgive the broken pictures in my posts, they alas were hosted on photobucket which died afterwards lol, but imagine demon ships and beasts etc
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