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2/2/2015 17:15:51   
Micosil
Member

Upon his tower, surrounded by piles of disorganized papers, the wizard tussled his hair. He was young, maybe thirty or fourty years old, but he had the wrinkles and white hair of one who'd lived through much longer, signs of the kind of life he'd led. He was sitting on a bed, nothing more than a dirty cot that hadn't been used in years - and yet right now he felt the siren song of sleep tug at his mind.

Sleep! That thing he hadn't needed since the pact. That thing that he'd lost when he'd gained his magical powers. Every single time he'd had to sleep it was because the pact was weakening, and he'd needed that... creature... to come and renew it. He shuddered, patting his hands on the tattered robe. He was sure it was out to get him. Everyone was, and that creature definitely was no exception. If anything, it was out to get him more than everyone else, and he didn't trust it at all, but what could he do? As long as he wanted to retain his powers, that horrible thing was in control. If anything, he could only be happy that it hadn't hardened the terms of their agreement over time.

Still, right now he needed that thing to come by, and he needed it to come before the creatures in his grounds broke free. He could already feel them tugging at the spells that bound them, but for now the enchantments, the runes held. And how hard it had been to use those runes! Magic was not and had never been his thing, at least the magic that they taught in the academies. But he knew that the academies were holding out on him, that there had to be an easier way that they were not telling him - and eventually he found it in the creature, but while his magical power soared up to levels he could have barely imagined before their meeting, the arcane texts were still as incomprehensible as always.

A soft tap on his shoulder made him leap forward, stumbling on the ground and turning around, a lightning bolt bouncing from his fingers and scorching the wall. A giggle, once more behind him, made him sigh in relief. "Oh, good grief, it's you. You scared me!" The relief spread to his whole face as his eyes landed on the creature that had tapped him and then mysteriously appeared behind his back once more - at first look, it would be the sitting figure a young girl, maybe eight or nine years old; white skin framed by raven-black hair and an equally black, plain dress, legs kicking in the air from atop the desk. Glowing red eyes betrayed the creature's nature, as did a grin that did not fit with the girl's soft features.

"Of course its me." Angelical young voice, ageless arrogance. "You were wishing I'd come anyways, weren't you?" A single nod by the wizard, while he snuck a glance at the window - still closed, not the way she'd come in. "Your magic is running out, and you need me to renew it." She giggled again, and something in that giggle sent a shiver down his spine. Girls should not sound so... evil? He didn't like her, he didn't like how she controlled him, how she acted so superior. She was the only person he couldn't threaten or outright kill to get what he wanted, and it made him angry, but he needed her.

"Y-yes, that's right." He admitted. "Can we... get around to it before the monsters break free?" And so that she would leave, but he didn't word that, simply extending his hand in a gesture he'd repeated throughout the years. But she shook her head. "Nope." Her smile widened, more than it should've. "I'm afraid I can't renew the pact anymore." She stood up, walking towards him slowly.

Something was wrong, and he knew it. Fireball and lightning came to his call, but they were mere sparks and embers, and she batted them away without losing her smile. A shove, and he hit the floor, back propped up against the wall. With every step the little girl's figure became more and more threatening, the lights in the room dying out slowly, his magic refusing to respond. She grabbed his collar, pulled him close, demonic eyes staring into the terrified man's.

"You see, I've no further interest in you. You've already given me all of your soul, after all. Pathetic, really, that all I had to do was to give you some magic powers to toy with and you would sell yourself for eternity for that price." She giggled again, an ill-fitting sadistic grin on her face. "I will enjoy tormenting you forever, believe me."



In the depths of an abandoned dungeon of the wizard's tower, sealed in by now-weakening runes, Gestalt stirred. The protections weakened and with that his area of influence grew. His power grew. He drank deep from the wizard's despair, but soon he had to get into action. With the wizard gone it wouldn't be long since the monsters started fighting each other, and he wanted to be on the winning side of this fight.

Projections slipped out through the ever-growing cracks of his magical cage, taking a humanoid form that Gestalt loved: human enough to be recognizable, but with the proportions altered so that it was clearly not - Arms as long as legs, long fingers, a bony torso and a complete lack of head, all framed in shadows. Such were the emmisaries he sent to a select few monsters, the ones he thought would best fit in his plan.

"The wizard falters." The projections whispered to their chosen targets, waking those that slept in the middle of the night. "The cage shatters. Our fates entwine. Follow." And, with that, the shade slipped away, slowly guiding the monsters to the front of the abandoned dungeon if they chose to follow. And, if they didn't, the psychic abomination didn't care much - neither him nor them needed each other, but they could all use a hand. When they reached the small, squat building covered in runes that used to be the entrance to the dungeon, the shadows would regroup, forming a single, larger entity with the same appearance.

< Message edited by Micosil -- 2/17/2015 1:35:08 >
Post #: 1
2/3/2015 15:02:43   
Bastet
Member

Yaraj could never live as a slave, and his cage was constant torment. He almost never slept, his rarely satiated hunger almost driving him mad. Yet, he was far from an animal: his mind was calm and collected, while still burning with the desire to take revenge upon the wizard. Even the fact that he wasn’t allowed to leave the garden or burrow in a way that would damage precious, rare plants only added insult to injury.

For this reason, anything that crossed the centipede’s path would live past their first encounter. Yaraj had a keen sense for detecting vibrations, mostly because of the antennae at the end of his body. When the mage’s bounds began collapsing, it was one of the few occasions where the demon could be found above ground. Yaraj could feel that something strange was going on with the magic that kept the monsters bound, since it also included him.

The trail of poison that dripped from his maw highlighted his path as he restlessly roamed around the garden, thinking that the interference with the magic that kept him imprisoned was naught but a random occurrence that would’ve signified nothing. The creature walked aimlessly, with the first third of his body elevated to proved him with sight of the area around him.

It wasn’t until the magical seal was almost broken that Yaraj admitted to himself that something was actually happening; the spell was becoming far weaker than he had ever felt it. He skittered towards the exit of the garden at the brisk pace his countless legs allowed. The mage had never bothered with a gate that could possibly resist Yaraj’s attempts at breaking it down: the now-malfunctioning spell was more than enough.

Before the monstrous centipede could attempt breaking down the gate with brute force, a shadowy figure appeared in front of him. It had an equally inhuman shape. Long limbs adorned its shadowy, headless body. Yaraj recognized it as being a manifestation of some other monster he never met personally, though he still knew of its existence. He wasn’t intimidated by it, rather curious to know what it was doing there. The centipede spoke with his own voice, interrogating the projection.

“What do you want in domain, little shadow?”

The demon didn’t wait for long before the shadow answered, though the message seemed generic enough that it was probably directed to more than one creature.

"The wizard falters. The cage shatters. Our fates entwine. Follow.”

So you want me to follow you… What are you planning, shadow?

Yaraj longed to take revenge upon the wizard, but following his desire might’ve left him trapped in the tower when he had a chance to escape. Perhaps it was wiser to get out, and then come looking for the wizard. The demon wasn’t looking to spend even more time inside his prison. Considering that the shadow was probably drawing more creatures to it, it probably wouldn’t given Yaraj a chance to finally satiate his hunger with a good feast.

As the shadow began walking away, Yaraj reluctantly followed it. While tearing down the gate that had been the demon limit for so long, he thought that having to reach the projection’s destination above ground would’ve left him somewhat vulnerable to one that could fight back against him. There wasn’t any soft terrain outside of the garden.
Post #: 2
2/3/2015 18:04:38   
dethhollow
Member

A light groaning sound could be heard from inside the room as Leopold the Stone Wolf slept in his boring empty room. It was a fairly large circular room with several statues of gargoyle-like statues designed to look like they were clinging onto the walls as if they were geckos. In between every other statue was a red burning torch giving the entire area a crimson glow and an otherworldly feel. Tonight, the flames seemed to flicker inconsistently, casting shadows over the area that were rarely before seen. Any other person might see this as a sign of concern. The magic keeping the torches lit could disappear at any moment and leave them trapped here in a seemingly eternal darkness. But Leo had stopped caring about the torches and the statues long ago, much like how he had stopped caring about any person who tried to enter the room. It would be easy to stop them, it would be simple for Leopold to attack the intruders as they slowly opened the 8 foot wooden door behind him. But why should he bother?

He could not recall ever seeing the wizard who trapped him here nor could he remember the wizard ever harming him. For all intents and purposes, Leo didn't think of himself as a guardian or a warrior, those terms were way too noble and dignified for what he was. As far as Leo was concerned, he was more along the lines of a pet, not someone who hated or cared for the mage, just another creature the mage managed to capture and use as a decoration in this room. Just like the gargoyles and the torches around the walls. Unable to leave due to specific spells over the hallway into the room and the door leading out of the room.

It was at this time that the near silence of Leopold's slumber was broken by an odd message from an unexpected source....

"The wizard falters."

The Stone Wolf stopped snoring as he began to drowsily wake up, shaking a layer of dust off of his head. Falters? What was going on? Leo glanced over at the odd shadowy figure in confusion with a mild sense of annoyance.

"The cage shatters. Our fates entwine. Follow.”

"Cage? What the heck do you mean?" He replied to the odd being while using his back arms to help get out of his curled up position. "Does this have something to do with the mage?" Almost on cue, the shadowy thing started to leave the room. Cautiously, Leo walked forward as the shadow lead him through where he thought the barrier was. It was about time something interesting happened.... He wouldn't miss this dull red room, anyways.
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 3
2/8/2015 0:55:39   
Tdub
Member

For many, sleep is a form of escape. Resting the body and mind takes the troubles of the day and replaces them with the comfort of the night. However, if any comfort existed in the mind of the brilliant creature resting in the barren cell, it was buried deep within. Instead, nightmares swirled through the tormented mind. These nightmares had not started at the time of the beast known as Spectralstep's capture. The dreams had originated centuries ago, when the images of horrors flashing through her mind were a reality.

The visions varied in length and clarity. For a moment, she was fleeing hunters, dodging blasts of magic and escaping the traps. After that, she was watching Shadowshine die for what seemed like hours, resisting the urge to burst from the shadows and destroy the men who were tearing her friend apart. Moments later she was in a cave, focusing her energy alongside the few Dragonlings around her on keeping the minds of the numerous hunters off of them. Suddenly, she felt Asterclaw stop his projections, turning to face her instead.

"What are you doing? All of us need to focus now."

Spectralstep had never cared for Asterclaw. He was rude and lazy, and she had shed no tears when, less than a month after the events of the dream had occurred, he had been brought down in the swamps of Muardu.

"The wizard falters." The words themselves were not particularly surprising, compared to the manner in which they were conveyed. Asterclaw had not projected his thoughts directly into her mind. Instead, they had come from his mouth, which had moved as though it had spoken. An impossible feat, of course, as no matter how advanced the minds of the Faerie Dragonlings had evolved, their vocal cords were incapable of producing sounds akin to speech, limited to growls and roars. The nightmare faded, and reality stepped back into the eyes of Spectralstep.

"The cage shatters. Our fates entwine. Follow." Indeed, the Dragonling had felt change in the past few days, and it had not been the first time. It happened in what seemed to be a sort of cycle. For a certain period of time, the bonds restraining her mental capabilities seemed to weaken day by day, and then one morning she would awaken to find them as strong as ever. Now, however, her full mental capacity was available to her, and, for the first time in quite a long while, she stretched her mind out to another.

She was greeted by nothing at all, much like a human passing a hand through a ghost. Whatever the being was, it was not real, leading Spectralstep to believe that the origin of the shadow was in a safe location. Before she had time to decide what to do, the shadow began to move, beckoning her to follow.

For a brief moment, the Dragonling considered staying behind. No matter how tempting freedom seemed, the threat of human greed and jealousy followed her everywhere, and at least the containment provided safety from the outside world. However, expanding her range of detection, Spectralstep found that the creatures that lived alongside her were beginning to notice their good fortune. While it may take hours for all to wake and find themselves free, those that did not or could not sleep were becoming restless. One particular beast she did not wish to encounter was projecting rage in an unhealthy manner.

It was certain, then, that she had to leave, and following the individual was her best chance of finding her way out. Therefore, she followed, leaving nothing but bad memories behind.

Ignore the dreams of the past in order to learn what the future holds.
Post #: 4
2/9/2015 16:46:56   
Micosil
Member

The projections made their way through the increasing chaos of the compound quickly, guiding their charges safely to the squat building that marked Gestalt's prison; making sure none of them ran into each other before they arrived, though his concerns were unfounded - only three of the chosen monsters had decided to join him. Enough, but just barely. He'd sensed hesitation, curiosity, anger. All of them useful for the dark creature, though curiosity could have had a far worse end had Gestalt decided to lower his barriers to allow the faerie dragon a glimpse into its memories.

The shadows melded into one larger blob of darkness, almost liquid in its constant shifting as it floated a foot off the ground. A moment later, there was an unnatural silence as if the sphere was absorbing sound as well; only broken by the projections' whispering. Any attempt by the faerie dragon to contact this entity would be met with a bit more of force, making it seem as if all that Gestalt was thinking of was Shadowshine's death, time and again, in different scenarios - begging for help in some, in others unconscious, some only silently waiting for death; all of them harrowing.

"Chaos comes, thirsty for flesh, hungry for blood." The sphere mutated into an image of the wizard's compound with pretty good detail. A moment later, it zoomed out forming a map, and then zoomed back in on a small village to the south, surrounded by forests. "Among the hidden ones, be hidden. Spill little blood, lest chaos chases you. The chilling darkness will grant you safety as you plant the seed." Loud noises came from somewhere nearby, smashing and roaring audible even through the shadow orb's dampening effect, but nothing showed up in the little patio Gestalt was briefing them in. Soon, however, the sounds were drowned once again, and the only thing left was Gestalt's 'voice'.

As Gestalt spoke, the vision zoomed more into the village, revealing patrolling guards on the palisade's top, people in the streets, though not many - perhaps some fourty people, with ten or so guards spread throughout. Another shift of the black liquid and they were staring at the door, a humanoid figure unlocking it while holding its head with his hands, letting in black figurines of the wolf, the dragon, and the demon. "Opened mind, for the seed's caretaking. Once it is hidden amongst the hidden, it shall bloom and seed no more, but gardeners."

Gestalt was... annoyed. Mildly, but even so it was enough to make the runes in his prison pulse just that little bit faster. Not with the creatures in front of him, but with himself - he couldn't communicate, not like this. While his projections' whispers were closer to telepathy than actual speech, he found it impossible to transmit the brunt of his thoughts without actually damaging his tools. He needed that possessed human in the village to act as a translator, but he'd have to trust his newfound allies to not eat him, and that was not something he was too confident about. Until that happened, this broken, cryptic speech was all he could manage, and he was certain that there was a lot that was being lost in translation.

It had just been a second since his anger, but Gestalt had already regained control and was moving the plan forward once more. The village rippled for a moment, before settling back into a sphere, and then once more into a large humanoid figure with unnervingly long limbs, about the size of a small tree.

The shadow raised an arm and pointed at itself and then, slowly, one by one at the creatures in front of him. "Chaos and time run towards each other. Earth awaits its seed, and the seed shall bear the gardeners' fruit." With a simple shimmer, the dark sphere vanished, and with it the noise shield, letting a cacophony of roaring from different species, explosions both magical and otherwise, rumbling sounds of stone being broken and screams of pain assault the monsters' senses. A few seconds later, another shadow would show up to lead them out of the compound safely - so safely, in fact, that they would not run into any other creatures -, and then through the woods; giving them time to speak with each other before reaching the village, if they chose to do so.

Outside of the compound, they would find themselves traveling along the faintest hint of a road for the first few minutes, and then taking a turn straight into a forest; all of this assuming they chose to follow the plan Gestalt had laid out for them. It was certainly possible that one of them decided there was better luck to be had finding their own way out.

< Message edited by Micosil -- 2/9/2015 16:49:38 >
Post #: 5
2/10/2015 9:29:43   
Bastet
Member

Yaraj followed the shadow almost absent-mindedly; he was more interested in being free from his shackles. All around him, sounds of beasts fighting and dying. He found himself wondering if he really should’ve continued following the shadow around when he could’ve joined the carnage and finally satiated his hunger with more than a meagre meal. Still, he had no idea where he was, and the projection had probably specifically chosen a path for him: the absence of other life forms was too suspicious to be a coincidence.
Whatever block was placed on the centipede’s path was quickly torn down through the employment of raw, brute strenght.

The demon’s mind was by no means feeble enough to surrender to animalistic instincts, but both anger and hunger were becoming unbearable on his mind. Though the four orbs that worked as his eyes were molten coloured, he was closer to seeing red. What little patience he had left dripped out of his maw along with the debilitating poison his body produced.

Still, he eventually found himself watching the shadows meld into an orb of the same material. It began displaying geographical maps and blurting out cryptic words. Yaraj paid very little attention on the orb, being rather more interested in the two other beasts that had decided following the projection was worth their time more than simply attempting to escape. One was a peculiar wolf made out of stone, but plans of attacking it were all discarded when Yaraj came to the conclusion that trying to eat stone could only have… negative effects on his body. A far more interesting specimen was one that was covered in pink scales, which seemed to reflect light. The beauty of this display was ignored by Yaraj, him being more interested in satiating his hunger.

Gestalt eventually caught the centipede’s attention with his speech, though it was pretty confused. The demon understood that there was a village in the forest, that casualties in the population had to be limited, and that some kind of seed would eventually bloom. After this, it wasn’t long before the orb of shadow disappeared and invited the creatures to follow the road on the outside. Yaraj had other plans.

An unbearable desire to kill moved Yaraj towards the pink scaled dragon that had also joined the meeting, drool mixing with the poison. He abandoned his walking stance and moved with the front of his body much closer to the ground as he closed in to assault the dragonling. His mandibles already moved like they had caught the prey, seeking to rip and tear flesh and bone.

Though the creature probably was far from defenseless and the centipede was not allowed to use his affinity for ambushing from below, Yaraj had no hesitation in lunging towards the reptile. A jet of poison preceded him, spat when he was close enough to his target. Hopefully, it would all be over quickly so that he could satiate his desire soon enough.
Post #: 6
2/18/2015 17:00:30   
Bastet
Member

In the darkest, deepest reaches of the dungeon, Qe’Jal struggled against the chains that bound him. Due to his nature, he had always been one of the hardest monsters to restrain: even if completely bound, he could still use his magic to damage his cage. The wizard proved to be nothing but a weakling, and the elemental constantly put effort into trying to break his prison: a stone cell built to withstand the heaviest barrage of lightning rays, complemented by a magical chain for each of his limbs and tails. Immobility didn’t bother a being that was born of something that couldn’t naturally move, it was rather Qe’Jal’s impatience that drove him to lash out against his torment. He was not one to sit down and accept his fate as a failed servant, for his master proved to be not fit for command. The elemental often found himself questioning if there really was someone worth following to be found outside his native land. Perhaps the time had finally come to accept his independence, and finding a new purpose in it. At the very least, nobody else would have conquered him without showing their actual worth.

There was no light but that of the few torches that lighted up the hallway leading up to the prison. There was no sound, except for the soft growl of a creature that had been left waiting for far too long. Until then, there had been no source of energetical nourishment for Qe’Jal other than accepting the humiliating tendrils of power that the wizard bothered to feed him. Their source was an inviting orb placed in the cell just far enough away from the crystalline construct that he couldn’t reach it, but just close enough that the thought that if it were but a few inches closer he could absorb it completely never left him. Of course, that of the orb was not the only power source Qe’Jal could sense: those outside the prison were just additional insults to his stolen freedom. In that cell, existence was a continued torture.

Yet, when the wizard’s power suddendly tumbled over and the chains lost all their effectiveness, Qe’Jal was ready. It was obvious to him that immortal, divine crystals would outlive frail bone and tissue. His powers were no longer being dampened by that ridicolous mage’s influence, but he was living on the last drops of energy that remained in his body. The elemental roared furiously as he snapped and twisted, breaking the rusty iron that his shackles were made of. It was a roar that spoke of years of imprisonment spent swearing revenge, constantly being insulted by the one he had maken the mistake of trusting.

From above, the noise of fleeing creatures reached Qe’Jal. To him, they were nothing but prey to be drained of life to further his existence. Everything around and inside the tower had to be burned down to the ground, as the elemental couldn’t just let it stand after it became the source of his prolonged torment. Anybody who sought the construct’s attention as something other than a source of nourishment would’ve had to use very convincing arguments.

The wizard was so sure of the supremacy of his power that he hadn’t even bothered placing a barrier upon the single entrance of Qe’Jal’s prison, but he conjured the sphere in a way that it would’ve disappeared should the elemental ever have broken free. Perhaps it was his final insult: the powerless elemental would’ve died in the hallway that led outside, trying to regain the freedom he’d lost. Fortunately enough for him, it would have taken a lot longer to simply kill Qe’Jal by draining him completely. That, and he still possessed whatever energy was supplied to him by the mage. The sentient crystal’s top priority still remained finding a way to replenish himself, as the hints of energy that let him live on were draining rather quickly.

The three tails immediately snapped back to their original position as Qe’Jal walked again after years of immobility. He wasted no time leaving his old cage behind and setting off towards the hallway to freedom, aching to absorb whatever source of energy he could find above the darkest reaches of the dungeon. The crystals his body was made of glowed softly as he ventured forth.

Perhaps the wizard had really planned for Qe’Jal’s escape and starved him accordingly: the elemental walked in a zig-zag pattern, barely able to maintain his own consciousness. A burning determination still drove the beast forward as he thought that the time for a proper meal was close, that the suffering was over.

Then, a source of noise appeared. Perhaps it wasn’t something the mage had planned for, but the sound of two pairs of stampeding hooves reached Qe’Jal. A stabler mind would’ve been able to determine that it couldn’t have been a creature too large in size because the hooves made too soft of a noise as the creature ran, but all Qe’Jal was able to think of is that a source of nourishment was drawing closer and closer, saving him the effort of looking for one himself. He swatted the torches near him out of their sockets with his tails and patiently waited in the darkness, ready to impale whatever it was that was running towards its death. It hadn’t been much time when the creature finally came in sight.

It looked like a bizarre cross between a deer and some other creature that he wasn’t interested in identifying; all that the elemental was looking for was draining it of its vital energy. It obviously was scared beyond all reasoning: something not too surprising, considering the mayhem that had been going on at the upper levels of the tower. Somehow it had found its way towards Qe’Jal’s part of the underground dungeon, but its life ended shortly after that. It was so busy running to leave the chaos that the wizard’s loss of powers caused that it ran right into Qe’Jal’s trap. A lot of the elemental’s remaining energy was put into rapidly moving his tails towards the creature as it fled right into his murderous embrace. The shock killed it on the spot as the violet crystals on the tip of the construct’s tails entered its body and began draining it of energies.

Qe’Jal absorbed the creature’s energy in such a ravenous way that only a withered skeleton was left after but a few minutes. The tails returned to their arched positions, the tips disturbingly clean. Not even the blood of the creature was left.

The crystalline construct set off once again, walking at a much brisker pace. The amount of energy he had absorbed was modest, but it was infinitely greater than the thin tendrils of power the wizard regularly fed him to keep him alive. The end of the hallway was finally in sight, but not that of the construct’s ravenous lust for more energy.
Post #: 7
2/21/2015 20:26:57   
Micosil
Member

Outside the tunnel leaving from Qe'Jal's prison was what presumably had once been a peaceful glade, with tens of similar tunnels surrounding it - but now, the moon bore witness to a brutal battle between the released monsters, which had quickly assembled into two sides: the undead, and everyone else; with the dark creatures having formed ranks around the commanding presence of a lich that had been imprisoned for, in his own appreciation, a rather unamusing amount of time. And, being the generous soul that he considered himself to be, the lich was sharing his displeasure with everyone around, frost and shadow bombarding the living creatures that managed to survive more than a few seconds against the ghouls and zombies that formed his shock troops.

Right in the center of the glade, however, a towering figure stood defiantly against the hordes of the undead - tall enough to rival the surrounding trees, a moss-covered forest troll defended his ground fiercely, his only gear a totem strapped onto his back; arms swinging from side to side in wide sweeps that smashed into the dead like they were twigs. His enemy dug teeth and claw into the creature's flesh, but the wounds sealed almost as quickly as they opened; and despite his lack of armor the troll seemed to be enduring rather well - though he still had to receive the lich's magical attention, and things would very likely change at that time.

"Get'cher filthy claws off'a me ya grotskins!" The creature's voice was rough and gravelly, as it slapped a ghoul onto the ground, where the grass quickly swirled around him and covered him, tying him up even as the undead attempted to rise again from a blow that had to have shattered its bones. "Ye ain't gettin' nothin' from me!"

The lich seemed to have had enough, as he finally turned to face the gigantic creature. "Not even capable of proper speech, I see. Pitiful. Though perhaps you'll make a good addition to my army... After all, they're not chosen for their brains." He chuckled with a cold, dry, almost clinical sound; but a moment later he was launching into an incantation and a torrent of frost was slamming into the troll, freezing a patch of its skin.

The blow was met with annoyance more than pain, though, and the troll turned to look at the lich - he was sitting at the far edges of the clearing whereas the troll was in the center. Much too far to reach with the undead biting at his ankles. However, his eyes stopped onto a creature near the lich - it had to have come out of one of the tunnels but when exactly he couldn't tell, busy as he'd been with the dead.

"Oi, scorpy fella! Mind givin' an ol' troll a hand an' stabbin' tha smug zogbrot skelly with tha fancy dress?" He addressed Qe'Jal, though he had no clue of the creature's name.

"It's a robe." The lich's voice vas even more gelid than usual, as he turned around to look at where the troll had been. "And there's nothing..." Surprise would've crossed his features if he'd had any. "Oh, my." He said as he sighted Qe'Jal standing just a few steps away from him. "Not alive, I see. Then you've nothing to fear from us... and certainly no reason to help that malodorous creature, right?"

The troll was back to his fight, not really paying Qe'Jal any attention, but the lich was an entirely different matter - if Qe'Jal decided to attack the undead, he'd probably be struck with some sort of ice spell on the way. Then again, the lich was bursting to the seams with unholy energy... much like the troll was with that of nature, so there would be no going hungry if he played his cards well.
Post #: 8
2/22/2015 8:45:41   
Bastet
Member

It had been so long since Qe’Jal had been outside his prison that he had forgotten what lied past the darkness of the hallway that led to his cell. The beast was sure of step, and a large amount of noise could be heard coming from the end of the corridor. He was ready to fight anybody who got in his way, but the stronger monsters were still out of his devouring reach: the creature he had consumed earlier was not nearly enough to restore his full powers.

Reaching the glade, he confirmed that the source of the chaotic noises was a battlefield. He ended up just a few steps away from an undead being that momentarily paid very little attention to him. Qe’Jal took advantage of its distraction by taking the time to carefully observe the warzone. The lush vegetation that once inhabited the area was damaged beyond recognition.

Hordes of undead were trying to swarm a troll, but they were far too weak to finish the creature off by themselves. The monstrous, moss-covered specimen stood as tall as a tower and regenerated wounds faster than the undead could cause them. The lich’s minions seemed intent on eradicating all life from the glade, and those who weren’t trying to put down the troll wandered off to chase the scared creatures that also made it to the battlefield.

The totem the green creature crudely used to smash the reanimated corpses implied the magnitude of his strenght, and Qe’Jal quickly determined that such a creature couldn’t be defeated in direct combat. Although his lightning was more effective on organic creatures, the lich was a much easier target. Still, the undead commander was far from defenseless: he showed off his ability at handling frost and shadow spells by attacking the troll from a safe distance.

Qe’Jal’s mind was set, and he switched to a stance better suited to combat: the front of his body low to the ground with his back raised to provide better marksmanship with his tails. He also began charging a lightning bolt, indicated by the crystals on his tails glowing fiercely. The smaller two fed energy from Qe’Jal’s body to the main crystal, which channeled the spell. Before he could make a move, he was noticed by the troll, which led to the lich also lending his attention to him. They were both aware that his interference could tip the scales of the battle.

"Oi, scorpy fella! Mind givin' an ol' troll a hand an' stabbin' tha smug zogbrot skelly with tha fancy dress?"

Qe’Jal was rather amused by the troll’s speech, and he could’ve become a powerful ally provided he survived the battle or that Qe’Jal didn’t simply decide to also finish him off after the oncoming battle was over. Either way, the crystalline construct couldn’t have hoped to subdue such a creature with barely any power in him.

"It's a robe.”

Ah, the typical arrogance of liches. Even when they supposedly were on your side, they only followed their own agenda. No matter how the confrontation went, allying with the undead commander would’ve likely proven to be a mistake. Simple minded creatures such as trolls were more loyal.

"And there's nothing..."

Strangely enough, Qe’Jal noticed that he had been mistaken. Could the lich have lacked in awareness so much that a troll would’ve noticed him first? Either way, the undead magician was an easier target with his hordes of rotten flesh busy fighting another creature.

"Oh, my. Not alive, I see. Then you've nothing to fear from us... and certainly no reason to help that malodorous creature, right?"

While the troll placed his attention on the attacking undead minions once again, the lich remained focused on Qe’Jal. It was likely that he was ready to fight him off with his spells, but the energy the construct could’ve stolen from the lich was too rich of a boon to give up. The elemental spoke for the first time since he had managed to free himself from the wizard's chains; his voice sounded much like the crackle of powerful energy.

“Smell doesn’t bother me, lich.”

Qe’Jal fired off the bolt he was charging, aimed at the lich. It cost him most of the energy that he had managed to absorb earlier, and he prepared to simply fight with his physical assets. The construct rapidly walked the small distance that separated him from the lich, and pounced the robe-dressed skeleton. He was prepared to be hit by a retaliating spell, but was confident that he could take the hit.
Post #: 9
2/23/2015 7:38:29   
Micosil
Member

Yaraj's aggression onto the faerie dragon was cut short by a furred thing being slammed through a nearby wall, breaking off the top of it and showering the area in rubble; interposing several slabs of stone between the charging demon and the faerie dragon - most of it on top of the faerie dragon, which ended up buried underneath. The projectile, which could be recognized as a werewolf now that it had landed from its collision, had not come out too happy off it, but the multiple broken bones and tears on its flesh were starting to regenerate since silver had not been involved in any of it.

"An' don'cha tink we's done wit' ya!" A low, rumbly voice shouted through the hole in the wall, followed by a couple of cheers. "Ya tink we's kill 'im, boss?"

"He's not dead." More of a growl than a real voice, much quieter than the previous voice. "Can't kill one of us without silver." And a speck of pride on that fact, it seemed. As they talked, the were slowly shook his head, standing up from his nest of debris.

"He'll have to get used to not being the alpha anymore." A sweet female voice replied, and something carried with it the impulse to listen, to obey - it wasn't loud, but somehow it permeated through the air, as if it didn't dampen with distance. She was clearly in charge, and her tone and inflexions left no doubt about it. "It's going to be hard for him, poor dear, but he chose it for himself, after all."

"Yah, 'n then he triedta fight ya!" Another rumbly voice, or perhaps the same? They all were so similar. "We's gotta get outta here 'fore somethin' comes our way, don' we?"

"Just a moment, lovelies. I have something I want to visit... Help me up!" A lithe figure climbed over the hole in the wall a moment later, followed by a smashing sound as the hole was being widened by something large and definitely strong. The first figure landed on its feet nimbly; a clearly female figue, pale and featureless, almost like a mannequin, with two large eyes of solid green in its face. "We have visitors! Or are we the visitors?" A giggle escaped the mouthless creature as, through the wall behind it, a large, green, moss-covered creature slammed through, followed by more of its kind, as well as more werewolves.

The trolls were nowhere as towering as the one that Qe'Jal had run into, but they were still easily the size of two grown men; whereas the werewolves were the size of a burly man, or woman in some cases. The two monster tribes seemed to be cooperating rather grudgingly, with glares between them and "accidental" bumps, but it was clear as they formed around their female leader that they still shared the goal to protect her.

"Oh, I'd suggest you leave now, little ones. You don't want to be here when..." A shadow burst in front of the figure, prompting gasps from its guards and a reaction as chaotic as one could expect - a werewolf tried to leap onto it, ending up in the way of one of the troll's fists and thus smashed on the ground. A moment later, suspicious glares and growls; closed fists and open claws, every one of the creatures was prompt and ready for a fight - among themselves, though.

This would be a good time for Gestalt's guests to withdraw, though they could stay and watch what happened if they weren't afraid of being caught in the crossfire.
Post #: 10
2/24/2015 15:34:58   
Bastet
Member

Yaraj could already feel the taste of tender meat in his maw when, suddendly, a large amount of debris blocked his path to the seemingly-defenseless reptile… and he was hit by a flying werewolf. The centipede was stunned for a second due to everything happening so suddendly, but paid very little attention to the voices that could be heard coming from the direction the lupine projectile was thrown from.

The demon was now out of his mind with anger, as he didn’t like losing the chance to feed himself. Combined with him having been starved for the entirety of the time he was under the wizard’s command, whoever had dared interrupting his lunge had attracted Yaraj’s wrath on them. Revenge was all the centipede’s rage-clouded mind could think of before he noticed that the being that had hit him while flying was beginning to come back to his senses.

The voices coming from beyond the broken wall were now louder, but the demon’s focus switched to the werewolf closest to him: the creature was a suitable meal to replace the buried dragonling. It still was partially dazed, but Yaraj planned to attack it regardless of its state. Yaraj roared so loudly that even the ex-alpha clearly understood that he was in danger, though his side-roll was far too slow to save him from the centipede’s assault.

Yaraj elevated the frontal part of his body before plunging down fangs-first on the beast, crushing it under his weight and pinning it to the ground. He mercilessly tore through flesh and bone before taking a strong hold of the werewolf’s body with his mandibles, raising his head again and gorging it whole. The macabre act lasted a few seconds before the lupine monster finally yielded and disappeared down within Yaraj’s body.

A meal like this one was more than enough to satiate Yaraj while he was looking for a reliable source of food, and the centipede took a moment to examine his surroundings more thoroughly than before. The broken wall was damaged even more when a large number of trolls and werewolves, led by a disturbingly featureless humanoid figure, made their way into the room those who followed Gestalt already occupied.

While the one that led both trolls and werewolves wasted her time yapping about, Yaraj slowly backed off. Now that his mind was clear, he recognized that fighting anything more than a lonely, stunned werewolf was foolhardy. He tried recalling the memory of what the shadow-orb had shown him, and quickly decided to follow its orders: the demon slowly backed off while the last of the trolls made their way into the room.

And suddendly, a clear chance of escaping safely was offered to him: something happened amidst the werewolves and trolls that made them ready to jump at each other’s throats. Yaraj swiftly turned and moved towards the exit as quickly as he could. He realized he had lost track of the stony construct’s whereabouts, but hopefully it would not bother him. After all, he had little interest in those he couldn’t eat.
Post #: 11
2/26/2015 14:31:09   
dethhollow
Member

"Hmm?" Leopold glanced up from his curled up position in a nice shaded spot to the side of the wall, away from the direct chaos of the werewolves and trolls coming out of the hole. It seemed like they were ready to fight, but it wasn't really clear what they were doing or why they were even here. Did this have something to do with the shadow thing's plan? The Stone Wolf tried to think back, but could barely remember a single thing the formless mass of darkness even said, much less how to make sense of it's unusual forced speech pattern. A sigh escaped him as the centipede demon tried attacking one of the werewolves. "I remember when I used to have a pack...." Leo muttered. "Things seemed to make more sense back then."

As Leo began to doze off again, the sounds of fighting echoed out from the group, catching his attention. There seemed to be a woman who didn't seem human? It was hard to tell just what she was, but she seemed to be in charge. Or, at least, she was until the werewolves and trolls began blindly attacking eachother over some personal grudge or something. Wolves were being knocked around effortlessly, trolls were on the ground pinned under the weight of multiple werewolves, some of them seemed to be bleeding or throwing large pieces of the wall. The whole thing was just madness! Just pure, unfiltered, madness. Another sigh escaped Leo, they didn't even DO anything after being lead here and things were already falling apart. Well, it seemed a little late to keep from getting involved in this mess. He could either deal with this or put up with the shadow's plan for taking a town or something?

The Stone Wolf reared up on his hind legs as his front limbs crossed and his back arms shifted forward, getting into his combat mode. Then Leo's mouth opened surprisingly wide before slamming down, hard. Stone slammed against stone, producing a solid spark that, in a fraction of a second, expanded into a small but powerful explosion! The sharp, piercing, sound of the blast echoed through the chaos of the brawl, hopefully gathering the attention of both the trolls and the werewolves. "Shut it for a second!" Leo barked, taking a few steps forward out of his quiet shade and towards the group.

"I don't know who you people are, and I don't care." He added, glancing around at the trolls, specifically. "But come on! Have a bit more restraint than THIS! What the heck are you even trying to accomplish?!"
AQ DF MQ  Post #: 12
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