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Grubbistch

Now it's a Corpse Party

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Whispernight. This was a darkness that one could not simply tolerate. Stagnant, putrid evil was everywhere, it choked the senses, and it stoked a flame within his rotten chest. In a way, this was the most righteous thing he could do, even as a monster himself. Evil killing evil, a win-win situation, no?

Caw! Caw!

Dux Gravis, the raven who had made itself a forlorn companion of the somber knight, spoke of dark portents and grim omens. The skies were near pitch black, with hardly any light shining through, creating an ominous gray filter all over this forsaken landscape. Nightmares reigned freely here in this place, accompanied by fiends, demons and devils, all hoping to get a taste of the flesh of the innocent. Yet even in their darkest fantasies they could not hope to satisfy their sadistic urges with the rabble that now resided in this ruined place.

Caw!

"Yes, you're right. I need to get out of my head; figure out a way to get in there without being seen." His voice was raspy, decrepit in its desiccated state. Overlooking the corrupted small town atop a cliff, the dark knight weighed his options carefully. Only by using all of his options to their utmost strategic value could he hope to infiltrate these defenses, and maybe even destroy the monsters on the interior.

Manning the gates looked to be a tattered excuse for true soldiers, likely cultists who scavenged what they could after the dust settled from the initial invasion of demonic entities. They could be dispatched easily, yet it was what lay beyond that gave him pause, made him wonder of the reward was worth the effort to put into such an assault. Power of grand magnitude radiated outwards from the borders of this bastion of depravity, power that Sanguine could use for any future engagement against the eldritch horrors that have called this place home. Material wealth meant little to him, for what did the dead need coin for when he needed no sleep, no food or drink, not even the comfort of another in his bed?

There was always blood, but that was a different issue entirely.

Caw! Caw!

"I hear them, my friend. I believe they have come for the same thing I have. Let us greet them and see if they mean to assist us or to harm us." Either way, blood was going to be spilled on this cold morning in the once verdant green plains of the Arcane East. It should not be surprising a land soaked in blood would be host to such despicable creatures.

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Off in the distance one could hear footsteps. Following the sound of the raven, Zinnie came walking. She was going on her way to finish some kind of quest, though that wasn't why she came. She came to notice the aura in the air. The rotten smell of death, the evil dark feeling in the air. It was giving her chills. The darkness didn't exactly help the case either. As she came closer, she noticed guards, and someone with a raven seemingly observing. Zinnie took a deep breath, and as she did, the air in the air around her seemingly got more rotten with death, as if the little life that were in the air disappeared. As she let the air out, the air turned lively as if it was alive, and the ground under her turned green with life, this quickly disappeared as well. What was more strange was the feeling that came off Zinnie as she let the air out of her lungs, she practically glowed green of life, standing out like a sore thumb. This was only the life in her though, and the life aura around her quickly dwindled down, so she seemed like a normal mortal.

If one actually tried to sense her power, it didn't seem to be there, or rather, the amount of mana she possessed was so unimaginably small, and her small figure didn't seem like a warrior either. Yet the aura around her was not the aura of a weakling. Something was off about her, if one actually tried to figure her out from her aura, they would get two signals, both of which should not be able to cooperate with each other. She looked and gave off the feeling she was a pure demon, her eyes crimson red, horns on her head and pale white skin. Her aura however also contained equal amount of a human feel, as if she was 100% normal human.

She looked at the raven, and it's companion, rather it was the other way around. Hoping this meeting would turn peaceful.

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e0665f4a55eab2122575b9a0eb6106d8--girl-illustrations-illustration-art.jpgEsben could feel the rotten air as it made her feel a bit at home. Yet, it made her curious to know what happened among the land to get to this conclusion. Genesaris as she read among her travels wasn't this polluted. 

She walked towards the sighting of two others with caution. The elf didn't know if they were hostile or not. Nor if they attributed to the growing plague. Her footsteps took her more and more towards them. 

Eyeing the girl, she looked normal. Though looks could be deceiving. Esben wondered would bring such a small creature like her here. It was curious to see as the man with the crow looked more normal. 

We all are here for a reason it seems. Though I do not know if it's the same reason we gathered forth. Esben spoke then. 

Her thick scottish like accent gave her away she was not from Genesaris at all. But she did want to see what this would lead. Hopefully something fun.

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Two came to him, seeking answers, seeking confirmation of his intent. Purity of intention was a fickle thing, however, and one could never knew truly how someone felt in any particular moment. Did both of these strange women wish to plunder this town as he did? Only one way to find out.

"Power lies within this place." Sanguine rasped. "I intend to take a respectable portion of it, if you wish to accompany me."

Caw!

"Yes, there is much danger ahead. Are you willing to risk your lives for such trinkets of great magnitude?" Each of them had unique goals that could be achieved through the theft of these cursed items. Whether it was raw power, knowledge, or the simple satisfaction of the destruction of others, all intrigued him to some degree. After existing for so long as an abomination of life itself, one found that taking interest in others broke the monotony of it all, and allowed him that sweet social interaction that he craved.

Pointing towards the gates, he showed them the cultists stationed at their post.

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"If we barge in, they may raise an alarm." An extended battle may not be the best means of acquiring what they seek, especially with whatever horrors lied deeper in the town. To the west, he points his gloved finger towards a dilapidated sewer entrance, filthy and foreboding.

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"Quieter, if not somewhat...uncomfortable. We will likely find trouble there as well, perhaps worse than what we may find coming to the gates if we assaulted them directly. Choose your path, and I will follow you, guiding you through this wretched place as best as I can." A choice must be made, as it always has to be, in this land of darkness and fear. Will they brave a frontal attack, or take their chances in the sewers?

Caw! Caw! Caw!

"My bird will also support you, though he lacks my particular constitution." Dux Gravis had his own magic of course, but that was for another time, when circumstance permitted.

Edited by Grubbistch

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The smell that lingered when those of the living tempered with the dead, it called to the shaman's nose. Someone was playing around with things they shouldn't be, drawing him in like a moth to flame to check out to surrounding area. Beris had been 'sniffing' the area out to see what was going on inside. With his ancestor spirits able to slip into the facility mostly undetected, Beris was able to see through their eyes for reconnaissance. Overall the place was well patrolled, well guarded, and even a few of the watches were set up with signals in case of enemy interaction. A curious 'ping' hit his senses, one of his ancestor spirits had noticed a small party seeking to enter the facility. This was his window inside. 

Beris had been planning his attack, going over the outer walls, dropping into the outer courtyard and sticking to the shadows, using his ancestors as a means of guiding him as well as keeping an eye out for patrols. However, if this band of people would go in from below, he wasn't going to argue. Beris broke off his meditative trance, allowing his senses to be his own. The shaman spoke out to his ancestor sticking by the group of people gathering to breech the sewers, "Keep an eye on them, if they move, you move with them until I get there." The shaman was still lightly traveled, bringing in his heavier hide cloak, fitting over both shoulders and around his back, and he wore his lizard hide shirt underneath it for added protection as well as insulation from shock and flame. His armory was light as well, bringing in his wooden axe, heavy with druidic runes, and his ritual knife, which was more geared towards being a survival knife then ritual knife. Lastly, the gloves that were commissioned to his clan head were resting over his hands. The gloves themselves were made of hardened hide, however it was the metal fitting that was fashioned atop them that gave them an extra wallop for when Beris would have to go to hand to hand fighting to inflict blunt force trauma. It would be his first test run of them, so he was a bit eager to test them out in the field.

So far, this day had gone relatively well. Beris had his essence restocked, his ancestors were strongly tied to him in connection, his axe just recently got a sharpening and the runes refreshed. The only reason he was here was due to the spirits guiding him to the anomaly to check out who was disturbing the natural order of things. There was a bend, a twist really, in the ebb and flow of the cycle of life and death, normally necromancy was not enough to bend things this bad. No something more serious was going on, something that would require his intervention. Beris, his feet wrapped in their cloth bindings, set off to find the location of his ethereal ancestor whom had found the raiding party. As for the rest of his ancestors, Beris had given them the order to make their way back, to avoid detection or to avoid danger. The shaman was making his way quickly, but cautiously, as to avoid being spotted on the way over.

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Zinnie took a deep smell. The air was cool, and filled with death. As the air got down her nose and into her lungs, she could feel her life force shivering. To make the air this rotten, something big had to be up. She closed her eyes, and focused her life force. As she could sense life force, she could sense anyone and anything alive, this was difficult in this particular place, where death was so apparent it could scare the very life force inside our bones.

The mysterious person, or whatever it is with the raven, suggested to go from underneath, through the sewers. It was the logical choice really. Zinnie would be able to protect herself if it came down to charging in through the front gate, but as well she wouldn't be able to make much progress that way, not with that many guards around. The sewers couldn't be that bad either, a little dirty water and a foul smell is healthy every now and then isn't it? Her party didn't seem like one to back out at something like this. There was only two ways in, one through the front where all the guards and knights were, and another through some strange sewers. The sewers didn't exactly make her happy. She got this strange feeling. Like something anti-life was in there, something that was an enemy to all living beings. This however, was something she had to check out. To her, there was only one way in, and that was through the sewers.

"Let's face the dangers of the sewers, I sense something... Interesting inside." Zinnie said with a rather strange voice, as if two girls was speaking at the same time. One innocent and cute sounding, and the other rough and evil sounding.

Just before they were making a final decision. She turned around and looked off into the distance. She was feeling something. Something nearby, it put her on edge, however, she couldn't put her finger on what it might be.

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e0665f4a55eab2122575b9a0eb6106d8--girl-illustrations-illustration-art.jpgEsben listened to the others speak as she remained silent. Though Zinnie had the right idea with the way she was going, so she decided to follow her through the sewers. The sewers did smell a bit, but it woukd be better than rushing head first into the fray. 

The elf picked up the sense of two voices slightly. Her ears were more sensitive than others. 

The sewers are fine to me. I rather not die fighting off whatever lies in there now. I believe this would be our safe bet. What is it you sense dear Zinnie? Esben asked softly. 

The elf looked at the others not sure their plans or ideals. But things were starting to get interesting among the group. And she was enjoying herself as much as she wanted to deny it. 

But the girl seemed to make her be cautious. She didn't know the people here, and she didn't know if they were friend or foe.

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Cautious, careful, willing to stay within the safety of the darkness, like scurrying mice avoiding the predator. Their path was one of certainty, so they may continue to live their lives as they wished, safe in the knowledge that they had avoided the evils of the world.

Did they like their world this way?

Who else wanted to live in such a way?

Why?

Caw! Caw!

"Yes...it is time to go. We must move quickly, before our numbers are discovered by their sentries." He said, picking his way down the rocky terrain of the cliff, knowing the others are close behind him, for they covet the safety of numbers, and do not wish to die the lonely death of the straggler. Their destination was before them in a matter of moments, the atmosphere a sober reminder of the location that they found themselves in. Evil lands made home to evil things, things they were venturing to slay in a moment of self imposed righteousness.

What did they hope to gain in all of this?

How did this help things in the end?

Why?

Caw!

"There must be sulfur in the air." Such statements meant nothing in true philosophical context, it's subject matter deeply rooted in the mundane. There was nothing to take away from it, other than perhaps that sulfur caused him to remain in his head for longer than he should have. Distractions were a death sentence, one he didn't wish to experience for yet another time. 

Now they must venture deep into sewer, to infiltrate this place, and to explore the world of nightmares that waited before them.

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Just as Sanguine thought. The place was dark, dank, it reeked of death and sulfur. He hated sulfur the most, though he couldn't quite understand why, perhaps because it caused him to think so much, perhaps it was because it smelled so foul. Water dripped from the ceiling, collecting in small pools of fetid water, while the sound of scraping things lurked in the distance. Terror was in the air, with muffled screams sounding above them, mixed with the guttural cries of horrible monstrosities that caused their peril. Footsteps echoed off the stone beneath them, heralding their journey into the unknown darkness which gripped them ever so tightly. If any of them had a means of which to illuminate the tunnel, it was best for them to use it now, as there would be no saving light of hope generated by the vampire, as such things were simply not in his nature.

"Whether there is light or dark, we exist in this world without reason or purpose. Woe is us for this terrible curse of sentience, for we are left stranded in this sea of ignorance which we are eternally drowning." Yes, that sentence spoke more clearly, it had so much depth, it made him feel somewhat prolific. Dux Gravis was always the one saying such incredible things, words that inspired and delighted anyone who could understand him, he wanted to say something that people will remember, or at least will make him feel sophisticated. Just as he wondered what next he will say to captivate those around him, there was a massive roar above, indicating something monstrous was currently in the midst of battle.

"It looks like someone is having their own troubles up above. Sounds like something wretched up there." There was battle up there, perhaps the cultists had awakened something they shouldn't have, perhaps what they have summoned has become violent, craving the flesh of something more lively. Whatever the case, at least it wasn't coming for them.

More scraping, more of the creeping, crawling sensations that chilled the spine and brought goose pimples to the skin. These were the feelings of the living, but for Sanguine and his bloodless hide felt nothing, only the friction of the cloth, beneath the leather, beneath the mail, beneath the plate. "Our enemy approaches." He said, spying the first red eyed rat, which was only the beginning of the black tide coming towards them.

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The shaman waited, biding his time out. This group so far didn't seem like those above ground, more finesse in their stride. By the sounds of the bastards up top, Beris should have just jumped the walls and went in axe and dagger swinging along with his weighted gloves. No..last time he decided to be rash his arm was bit in two and he had to scorch it back into place. This time he would use what he was trained for, shock tactics and ambushes. 

The sounds of the fighting above ground was calling out to his primal desire to charge in and defy the gods with his thundering calls to show them his presence and savagery against their creations..but he also wanted to survive this fight. Being that the presence of demonic weave on the natural order along with the heavy smell of undeath that lingered here, Beris had his work cut out for him. 

The sewers..gods how he hated the stench. Of all days he did not wear boots. The magic he carried began to envelope dirt around his feet to protect him from whatever horrible disease ridden wastes might be in the waters..though he didn't care, not like he could get much disease, there was still the remnant tainted blood in his veins which kept him from getting many diseases at all. It was just the way it slouched between his toes. 

There was not much choice in the matter now though. Beris kept his ears and eyes on the group a good distance ahead of him. Being lightly armored and light on his feet, the shaman would make very little noise in the back. There came a tide of rats ahead, being as far back as he was, Beris could easily concentrate on pooling essence around him for a strong lightning chain through this pool of rats. Already the sparks were beginning to muster, but the shaman wanted to make sure he had it precise, the sparks leaping from 'rat' to 'rat' not body to body. It was early to reveal his presence, but something told him the armored individual already knew he was there. Not like he was the shadowmancer his lord was, he could not blend into darkness, no the man had to rely on his own natural abilities to stay hidden. 

It was a trivial matter of pest extermination when he wasn't the target of it, focus came easier, spellcraft came much easier. His eyes lined up the cast which would zip through the rodents like an round though flesh. The execution though would have to be careful less he struck the others who were with him. As the spell charged, there was the chirp of electricity coursing through Beris's fingertips, being fine tuned, waiting to be discharged.

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