(DF) Animosity (Full Version)

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nield -> (DF) Animosity (4/7/2011 9:23:07)

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Prologue: A General death.

Hello. I am here, today, to give you a rare glimpse. It is a glimpse into my past. I am not known for storytelling, so I shall but try and do my best to lay it out neatly for you, but please remember this is my recollection of something that happened a long time ago. It is hazy in parts.

I am Nield. Nield Garreth Blietstresky (Bleat-stress-key) Balthasar. I am a General in the Armies of Pink and I am the Pink Pyromancer. I will not say to you how I look; I would have to kill you. That is not a joke. At any rate, this tale begins 400 years ago, when I had just become a General. Please, do read on and if you have anything you wish to say to me, go ahead. I won't bite... hard.

"Arise, General." The voice rang out. I opened my eyes and stood, to applause. Our Glorious Leader smiled. They continued; "You have shown remarkable bravery on the fields of battles and lead where no man or woman dared tread. You brought us victory where defeat was knocking upon our door. Go now and take your army of Pyromancers, to the world of Lore, in another plane of existence." They then dismissed me and all the others in the chamber. We kept solemn faces until we had all exited, whence we broke out into grins and cheers, as I was hefted aloft arms and carried to the Hall of Celebration. There were many choruses of 'For he's a jolly good fellow' and the like.

Once most of the furore had died down, my best friend came up to me. "Hey, Nield! Gratz, man!" I grinned at him. "Oh, don't worry Alex, your time will come." He laughed. "Oh really? But what do you propose a measly Aquamancer such as myself is going to do to get promoted to being a General, hey?" I smiled coyly and leaning into his ear, whispered; "Well, you could always ..." He reared back and then hit me lightly. "Oh, don't you bring THAT up again!" We laughed and got ourselves some food and some beer, before settling down at our table. "I'm gonna miss it here" I said. He looked surprised. "What? Why? EVERYONE wants to be a General and go off into one of the other planes of existence." "Yeah, I know. But it dawned on me; I won't be able to come back here and see my friends much."

We fell into silence. After a few minutes I saw a striking figure. Striking because she was green. Striking because she was green in a realm of pink. "Who's that?" I asked Alex. "Huh? Who? Oh, HER. Uh-uh, no way man; keep away. Settle down for a nice good pink girl." I looked at him and saw him grinning slyly. "Oh, ha flippity ha. Seriously though." He shrugged. "I don't know, really. She’s an envoy from the plane of green, as you can probably tell, but I don't really know much about her. We've been given strict orders to stay away. Don't talk to her unless she talks to you and so on and so forth. Oh and looky looky, she’s heading this way.” He was right. As she drew closer, I studied her face intently. A pretty girl, to be sure, but not what one would call beautiful. “Nield?” She asked. “Yes, that’s me. What can I do for you?” I replied. “Please, follow me.” She said before turning her back and walking away. I looked at Alex who had raised an eyebrow and I shrugged. “May as well, mayn’t I?” I said before moving off after the retreating figure.

She came to a room, before turning to me and said “wait here” before going inside. I could hear her talking to someone in hushed whispery tones. When she called me in however, no-one was there.

Now, I must confess, at this point, that I do not recall what happened for a time after. But when I can remember, I knew that I was smitten with her. (We had my mind checked for tampering. None of this was planted)

I got up. Only a few more days… a few more days and I am going to Lore. The first person I saw that morning was Alex. The second was MT. Our special thing was still going strong and she and Alex had become quite good friends. We ate breakfast before I excused myself. There was business that I had to attend to.

That was the day that everything was turned upside down. A few hours later, I heard screams. I rushed to help and I found a girl- no, not just any girl, Alex’s wife- kneeling over him. “Amanda? What’s wrong?” I asked. She flung herself, crying into my arms. I held her as I took in what I saw before me. Alex was dead. He was dead, today, the day that he would become a General himself.

The doctors gave him their best care, but were unable to find out what had caused his death. “Straight assassination, I’m afraid.” One of them said to me. “But I can’t think who would do such a thing…”

Later, I went to MT’s room. “Oh, Nield. I heard the news.” I went to her and welcomed her embrace. “There there… it will all be better in just a few… moments.” Then I felt something. It was the unmistakeable feel of a knife entering my back. I looked at her. “What…?” She laughed. “Did you really think I could love you? Oh, please. I played you for the fool and you performed… brilliantly.” She grinned a wicked grin. “Then you…?” “Yes, little Nield. I killed Alex. Soon, you shall follow him.” She laughed, before going over to a small device, which she pressed a button on, disappearing. The last thing she said was; “See you in the Underworld, PINKITE!” She put so much hate into that last word… I tried to go for help. But I slumped to my knees in front of the door. Then, opening it, I fell on my face. I heard screams and could only hope they could deduce what had happened. Then I breathed my last breaths. I died there, on that floor.

Sometime later, I heard a voice saying; "It is not yet your time. You have a large role left to play." Then I felt a searing pain as I was returned to life. The doctors all reared back. I had been dead, dead without a chance of being brought back to life.

That day, I swore revenge. Not just revenge on MT, but on the whole of green. The whole realm, the whole colour. All of it was my enemy. It was that day my animosity towards green was born.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (4/9/2011 1:13:40)

Chapter 1: Annihilated.

Well. I suppose I've left you wanting a bit more, then. Seeing as you're here. I know I left out some details last time, such as what Alex and MT look like... but please... bear with me. All will be explained in time.

50 years, it has been. 50 years since MT's betrayal. 50 years since Alex's death. During this time I have been content to watch, to see how this world works. I know who is likely to put up a fight and who would meekly accept subservience. I also used this time to dabble in some of the skillsets available, but not many were really to my taste- Necromancy least of all- so I let them be. Then came... the incident. One of my Pyromancers- who had been dabbling in all the elemental magicks- wound up dead. Accompanying his body was a note. It read 'Leave this world Pinkites. We have been tasked by our masters, the green Geomancers to keep any away.' So... this is how they wished it to be? If they thought they would control this world... they had another thought coming.

"This is an outrage." I said, looking over the note for what must have been the 70th time. Poor Wallace... Geomancy was the last art he was to study. It looks like they didn't take too kindly to him. Right on the heels of losing my one and only Pyromantress, too. She had fallen in love and, well. One does not interfere with affairs of the heart. We could only wish her luck, really. "Do they want to invoke war, these people? If so, we shall give them one."

The next few days we had no luck, but on the third day... we got one. "Nield... we got one, he's all nice and snug in his new home." I had to laugh at that. His 'new home' was suspended above a pit of pink fire. So if he tried to escape using his Geomancy powers... he wouldn't get too far before an agonising death. Sure, an agonising death was on the agenda for him anyway, but who's counting? I walked into the room where we were keeping our 'guest'. "So. You are what we are fighting, then?" I said, appraising him. Or her. It was hard to tell, really. Its body was feathered, with horns growing out from its back. Its legs were thin and covered in nettles, while its arms were broad and covered in hard scales. Its head was a curious mixture, with spikes growing out from the top and ruffles of feathers growing from its cheeks, with scales covering the rest. Its body was mostly shades of green, except for its feathers, which were a curious shade of blue. There were no identifying marks to tell what gender this creature was. We presumed it to be male on account of its voice. "There shall be no fighting, Pinkite. You shall leave." It said in a deep, commanding voice. I could tell from this that these creatures would be accustomed to getting their own way in regards to the inhabitants of this world. "Actually, no. We will not leave and you and your kind will be exterminated. But first... I want some information. What do you call yourselves?" The creature spat at me. I sighed. "Oh well. Nothing for it then."

By the time I was finished 'questioning' the creature, its death was assured, due to the wounds I had inflicted upon it. Its race called themselves the 'Ubega'. I deduced that these were two words that normally indicated superiority mashed together. There were relatively few of them, only numbering in the thousands. Easy prey for myself and my 7 remaining pyromancers. I gathered other information but it is of no consequence. I briefed my pyromancers the next day. "All right, boys. Listen up. These 'Ubegas' will be having a feast in a few days time. We're going to crash it. There will be 9054 of them there. That's their whole population." At this point someone sniggered. "What?" I asked. He put on a serious face then said; "There's over 9 THOUUUUUUUUUUUUSAAAAAAAAAAAAAND!!!!!" Some of the others started sniggering too. I stayed silent for a few moments, then I said; "Do that again and I will kill you myself, got it?" He turned a satisfying shade of pink and fell silent, as did the rest. "Now, as I was saying, their whole population will be at this feast, so we are going to be going on an extermination mission. Oh and do try not to kill anyone who isn't one of these creatures, okay? We don't want to alienate the inhabitants of this world."

We made ready our preparations, before setting out. We waited for the next few days until we spotted a group of the 'Ubegas' Carrying things to prepare for the feast. We followed them to a city of humans, where they went into a castle. "So... They eat in the halls of kings, do they? Pretentious, they are."

We waited. Once we had counted off the last Ubega, children included. (Now, at this point I'm sure you're crying out in protest; Surely you wouldn't kill the children?! Yes. Yes, we would. We could see them being trained from even that early age to become like their parents.) "Alrighty then. Let's go." We marched towards the city. Upon reaching the gates, a voice called out. "Halt! Who be you, with what authority do you enter at this time?" We stopped. "We are friends, merely wishing to enter and go about our business." "Oh aye, like I haven't heard THOSE lines before. You ain't comin' in, 'till I see some 'dentification." This amused me. "What if we refuse to go away?" "Well then, we'd have t' drive ye off, wouldn' we?" I heard a faint gasp, before the guard turned away and talked to someone in hushed tones. After a few minutes, he turned back to us. "Alrigh'. If Sir Bresly's Missus-to-be says yer her kin and that yer alrigh' t' come in, I suppose ye are." The gates opened and we saw who had told the guard to let us in. "Hello, Mariana." I said, addressing my single pyromantress.

She led us through the city, to the house she shared with Sir Bresly. Once we were all inside, she sighed. "I suppose it was only a matter of time before you guys came to get me, huh?" I smile kindly. "Certainly not, Mariana." She looked taken aback. "If you're happy here, I wouldn't want to drag you away. We're here for the Ubegas." She frowned. "The who?" Then her eyes lit up in understanding. "Ah. The geomancers." Then she looked worried. "Can't it wait?" I shook my head. "Most certainly not, Mariana. If they're all there, we need to strike. Don't worry, I won't drag you into it." She shook her head. "It's not that. Sir Bresly is their host. Not that he has a choice. They said, 'We'll be holding our feast here this year.' and woe befall the soul who dares disobey them. They're tyrants, they are and if any of them take a liking to you..." She shuddered. "Then they'd get taken away from their friends and family, with no care shown towards those left behind?" I prompted. She nodded. "Yes. Exactly." I laid my hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Mariana. We'll make sure it's safe for everyone." She nodded.

We left her and headed for the castle. When guards came to confront us, we told them the same thing; "Miss Mariana sends us to assist." They all stiffened, then nodded. Partly due to the fact that we knew Mariana, partly due to the fact that they pitied us, having to toady to the Ubegas. Once we arrived, we sought out Sir Bresly. "Yes? What is it?" He snapped at us, frantic as he was in trying to set up this feast. We could see that doing so would leave him and the people of this city dangerously low on supplies. "Easy. Don't worry yourself. We are friends of Mariana." He stopped to look at us and really take us in. "So... she told me you'd come for her. Is that what you're doing?" "Certainly not. She is happy with you and we wouldn't rob her of that." He eyed us suspiciously. "Then... what are you here to do?" I jerked my head towards the Ubegas. "Get rid of that lot." He laughed a hollow, sad laugh. "You'd be fools, then. Many have tried. None have even hurt them." "Maybe... but we are not normal people." He shrugged. "Go ahead. It's your lives you're throwing away.

We entered the hall where they all were and silence fell. "What are you doing without our food you ****!" the one I took to be their leader shouted. Really. Such foul language they have. I cleared my throat. "We are pyromancers from the realm of pink." this shocked them into silence. "We're here to kill you. Partly for Wallace, partly for pink, but mostly for the peoples of this world." They all started scrambling to their feet and we obliterated the first row of them with only a few blasts of pink fire. By the time they were ready to fight us, we had destroyed the second row, too. Leaving only about a third of them left. They put up earthen shields and managed to kill two of my pyromancers before we broke through. It was only the children and their guardians left now. We showed them no mercy. Soon, all of them were dead.

Sir Bresly couldn't believe his eyes. "What... Mariana is like you too?" He asked, dazedly. I nodded. He looked around again. "Death must be having such a good time, with all them delivered to him." Poor fellow couldn't think straight.

In the aftermath, we made negotiations with the humans of Lore. Yes we would be happy to keep to ourselves. Yes, there were more of us and yes, at times I would create more armies using some of the inhabitants of Lore, But I would only take seasoned fighters, who came willingly. The humans were the wariest of them all, after the Ubegas, but we made a truce. Mariana was able to live her life happily with Sir Bresly and we were able to keep watch on this world.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (4/13/2011 2:18:50)

Chapter 2: Incentive.

What, you again? Can't you leave me alone? Well, if you insist on more of the story, I'll give you some. But first, please understand that at this time I was sitting on the sidelines. The truce I made with the various peoples of Lore forbade me from interfering in their wars, so when they came to me to take sides, I remained steadfast in my decision. It is a further ten years.

"Please! If you do not take our side, then surely we must fall!" The man pleaded with me. I knew of this war, I knew they would surely fall and I knew that theirs was by far the better side... but I swore that I would not partake in their wars that day, ten years ago. "I am sorry. I cannot." This proved too much for the man and he ran out, crying. Then came in my... other visitor. This one, the leader of the other side. "Thank you." He said, in his snakelike way. "Thank you for decccciding to aid ussss." I grew angry at this. "Oh? When did I decide to aid you?" I asked, keeping as calm as I could. This one in front of me, raised his eyebrow. "Ssssurely if you would not aid them then-" "Then I would aid you?" He nodded. I laughed a sad, bitter laugh. "I am a NEUTRAL" I paused, putting emphasis on 'neutral' "power in this world. I am not taking sides. Be glad of this fact. If I did choose to take a side in this war, it would not be yours. If I chose a side in this war, it would be theirs and you should be grateful for the fact that I do not choose a side." He merely shrugged. "It matterssss little to ussss. Even ssstanding assside you ensssure our victory." I very nearly killed him then and there for that comment. Instead I threw a fireball at his feet and shouted at him; "Get OUT!" He blanched and ran, but not before a parting shot. "We ssstill thank you." This earned him another near miss.

Time passed in much this fashion; People came to me asking for help and I had no choice but to tell them no, regardless of whether I wanted to or not. My armies also grew in size as time went on.

After a while, I could feel the the peoples of this world were beginning to detest me; to think me and my armies as bad as the Ubegas, in our own way. I tried pointing out that the truce made with the various peoples of this world prevented me from stepping in, but it fell on deaf ears. I could merely shake my head and sigh. But I never, NEVER imagined what they were to do.

One day, myself and my one last pyromancer (the others had all succumbed to a rare disease) were going to visit Mariana. She was due to have her third baby soon. When we arrived, we found the gates open and deserted, the streets likewise. When we drew closer to the center of town we could hear a loud commotion. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that awaited. They had erected an executioner's stand and on that stand was... Mariana. With her two children. Still big with child. Crying. I saw Sir Bresly a way away, shouting and struggling to free himself. Then someone spoke up. It was the man I afore mentioned; The first one. His face was now scarred and he hid it behind a mask. I could tell it was scarred because there were lines from the scars that ran out from his face and I deduced that they must surely continue across. "Mariana, wife to Sir Bresly. Are you are or are you not what is called a 'pink pyromancer'?" She swallowed, before saying; "I am." At this there was a chorus of something that rhymes with 'Kill the witch'. This shocked me. These people- whom she called her friends- were now baying for her blood. I heard Sir Bresly now; "That's my wife! Let me go! SHE'S MY WIFE!" Then I saw one of the men- the guard from the gate the first time I came here, I realised- restraining him look at him pityingly, then he called out "'E's Under 'er infl'ence too great. Dere's nothin' we's can do fer 'im." The masked man nodded, then motioned to some archers. They levelled their bows and pointed them at Sir Bresly. Before I could do anything, they fired. The arrows all flew true, striking Sir Bresly in his chest. The gate guard looked at Sir Bresly, who was now released and was grapsing at one of the shafts, trying to pull it out. He said; "Really sorry, I am. Wish we's coulda helpsed yer." Then Sir Bresly fell backwards, dead. Myself and the pyromancer accompanying me were deeply shocked. Why? Why did they kill Sir Bresly? It was because we were so shocked that we didn't react to what happened next. The masked man turned back to Mariana. "Mariana, as one of the persons under the one known as 'Nield''s command, I sentence you to death by beheading. The same goes true for your children. As for your as yet unborn child..." He unsheathed his sword and stuck it through her belly, right where her child was! "THAT. Is for my family." He said. I could but watch in horror, stunned, as Mariana and her children were laid down, their heads on the chopping block. Her children were crying now. She kept telling them it would be all right. But then, the executioner brought his axe to bear and with three neat chops, killed Mariana, then her children.

At this I snapped out of it. A burning rage inside me commanded I speak up. "Is this what you want?" I asked, loudly, clearly and calmly. All heads turned to face me. "Do you wish for WAR?!?!" The masked man laughed a bitter laugh. "We never wished for war." He said. "If you'd just stepped in every now and then, none of this would have happened." "THE TRUCE I MADE WITH THE PEOPLES OF LORE FORBIDS ME FROM INTERFERING!!!!" He merely brought his hand to his face, as if in deep thought. "Well. Maybe sometimes what's best isn't what was agreed upon." At this, I completely lost it. He received a fireball directly to his face which killed him. It instantly incinerated his head and the smirk I'm sure lay behind the mask. As all turned to look at him, I slammed my fist into the ground. Then, using my powers, brought up a rare and- when used right- unforgiving metal. The metal was black, with red veins that ran through it. Again using my powers, I shaped it to how I wanted it. The end result was a double ended scythe, that had its hand-hold exactly in its center. Around this was a literal ball of blades, that had only one spot where you could get through- the hole for one to put their hand in. The ball of blades ensured it so that it was impossible to wrench the scythe from its wielder's hand. The blades of the scythe curved in a cruel, jagged fashion, ending in what can only be described as a ball of pins, each 'pin' jutting outwards to form an inside-out ball. Both sides of each blade was sharp- the only parts that weren't were the sides of the blades and these were covered in innumerous spikes that would tear through anything you might think to use against it. To look at this scythe, black as darkest night, with red, pulsing veins up the sides of the blade, you would say it irradiated evil. I knew better. This metal irradiates fire. When spun, flames emerge from the sharps of the blade, as if cutting the air with such heat as to cause it to ignite.

At this point they were all staring back at me and- more inportantly- my scythe. Before any of them could think to act, I began spinning it. When I had it spinning fast enough, I brought it to bear on them and- stopping its spinning motion- unleashed a tornado of fire at them. Those closest were sucked into the tornado and incinerated instantly, adding fuel to it. The rest all turned tail and fled. Most of them, however, found that either their feet weren't making much progress forwards, or were actually moving slightly backwards. The result was the same. They were sucked into the fire and died instantly, adding fuel to it. When I turned to my pyromancer, I found him on the ground, dead. It appeared that one person had the wits about them to fire upon us- An arrow protruded from the spot precisely between his eyes. I found no-one when I searched the city- they had all fled- and I sat down- my scythe still clutched in my hand- and grieved. I gave Mariana, her children, Sir Bresly and my last pyromancer the service they all deserved. I set the city alight. The fires I set raged and lit up the whole night's sky- even places such as Darkovia and Doomwood were visibly lightened.

I retreated to my base of operations to find it had been overrun by people hoping to find and kill anyone from any of my armies. Naturally, they found no-one. I went to where I had advised them all to go if events should appear to be detrimental to their survival. I found them all and we went underground, but not before I did one last thing. I tunneled (not quite the right word to describe it, but the best I can do) into the bedroom of the humans' king. I said to him; "You may despise us. You may hate us. But know this- We abided by the truce. You broke it and history will remember." I left him then, sealing my path behind me.

On one point, I was proven wrong. They destroyed all records of me and mine as I had them do with the Ubegas ten years before. They broke the truce, but history did not remember. No tales were told of us- not even to the naughtiest of children- and as far as future generations were concerned, I did not exist. My pyromancers did not exist. My ARMIES did not exist. Rumours were told of a great army of magnificent power, willing to take in any who could find them. But who started these rumours, I did not know then. People found us and I had little choice but to take them into my armies- what would have happened if I didn't?- But for the most part, we were left alone for the next 140 years.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (4/14/2011 3:41:06)

Chapter 3: The Green War commences!

One hundred and fourty years... that's how long we stayed hidden. No, no witty comments to start off with. This is something you need to know. After one hundred and fourty years, we were found... not by the peoples of Lore- asides from those who found us due to those rumours (I still didn't know how they started at this point.)- as they had all but forgotten we existed. There were no records of us. No... we weren't found by Lorians... we were found by Greenites!

Now, people will tell you that colours are linked to elements. This is utter rubbish. There is as much a chance of a blue pyromancer and a red aquamancer as there is a chance of a red pyromancer and a blue aquamancer. I'm only telling you this because it will have some bearing on the story... albeit at a much later point. Anywho, let's get on with it...

"Undead? Here? Why haven't they been stopped?!" I demanded of the scout who was in front of me. Over the years my temper had frayed and my anger had grown. "Th-they're being led by... by a pinkite, sir..." This shocked and outraged me. "NEVER! There is no way a pinkite would help greenites!" I shouted. The scout fidgeted where he stood. "Well, you see, sir, that's the thing. He's undead too. Whenever we try to attack he knocks us back with water..." What?! Undead... pinkite... water... "Oh no..." I said, very quietly. How had they managed it? "Show me." I said. He nodded eagerly and darted off. I followed him. When we got to a good vantage point over the cavern... I couldn't help but recognise the poor man leading the green undead... and my memory of how he looked beforehand was forever erased, which is why I didn't describe him earlier in the piece.

Yes, it's Alex. My best friend, brought back to life and turned upon me. Now his flesh rots and even some of it falls off as he walks. I can hear his soul, screaming out; "Release me! Someone PLEASE! RELEASE ME!" He still has his own colours, that fair pink skin and that pink/purple hair... but he was clothed entirely in green and this pained his soul all the more. Part of his face had fallen away, revealing the black skull that lies beneath. His eyes were gone and his hair was nearly all gone, too. The sight sickened me and then... then I saw the necromancer- or rather, necromantress responsible and my anger flared up as it had never done since that fateful day... 200 years ago. That day I swore revenge.

Yes, the necromantress was the treacherous MT. How she looked now completely removed how she had looked before, as well. Before I had thought her pretty, but now I realised she must have had an illusion set up. She was extremely skinny- to say she was anorexic was an understatement!- her face was sunken and there were permanent bags under her eyes, which were constantly wide and darting around- paranoid!- and her hands... well, they weren't hands at all. Where her arms ended there were claws. I mean, literally, CLAWS. Her skin, which once wa a fair light shade of green- under the illusion, anyway- was now such a dark green that you could be forgived for thinking it was black. She had no hair and- judging by the scorch marks on her head- hadn't for a very, VERY long time. She was clad in a light green robe, decorated with pretty flowers. She was nauseous to look at.

"Do your best to keep them busy and keep them away. I must go prepare." the scout nodded as I went back to my central chamber. Here I found the object I was looking for. A large amount of the same metal I used for my scythe, 140 years ago. Except it was a much larger chunk... enough for me to finally make myself some armour. The amount of metal before me literally weighed tonnes, but that mattered very, very little to me. Using my powers, I shaped it as I wanted and, once I'd cooled it (Yes, it's possible. Pyromancy ISN'T all about burning things and heating things, you know) I put it on. Even though it weighed tonnes, thanks to my powers, It weighed as much as a feather, if not less. I suppose you're curious as to how the armour looks, right? Well, here you go. The helmet was fashioned to look like I had cut off the head of a dragon while it had its mouth open and stuck it on my head, so while the helmet offered protection for most of my head, it left my face completely exposed. At least, that is what it seemed like. In fact, there were many small, crisscrossing blades across the open mouth of the helm. They were invisible to the naked eye, but if you were to try and punch me in the face, your hand would literally be ripped to shreds. The breastplate was fashioned in much the same way as the sides of the blades on my scythe. While perfectly round and smooth looking it was covered in tiny innumerous spikes, such that if someone were to throw themselves upon me, they would be very holey in a very short amount of time. The rear of the plate, covering my back was a different story. It LITERALLY had swords sticking out of its back such that if anyone threw themselves at my back, they would be pierced to an even greater degree than if they threw themselves upon me from the front. The blades were only visible when looked at from the side. The shoulderguards were perhaps one of the simplest parts to the armour, having thousands of pins sticking out. the arms of the armour WERE the simplest part, along with the greaves. they didn't have anything special about them. They were just straight out defence, no offense. the gauntlets of the armour were very brutal-looking with small spikes on the knuckles. ALL the knuckles. As well as having small spikes on the back of the hand. The greaves were, again, very simple. They were also straight out defence. The boots of the armour were very much like the gauntlets- spikes stuck up on the tops all over them. Of course, the armour again had those pulsing red veins all through it. They trailed up the breastplate, down the arms and down the greaves and curled around the helm in an odd fashion- in the sign of pink.

Now armoured, I grabbed my scythe, sticking my right gauntlet inside the blade-ball. As I walked, there was loud thumping and the ground literally shook due to the weight of the armour, but as I stated previously- due to my power over fire- it was like a second skin to me, weightwise. As I strode out towards where the fighting was, it all stopped. The undead were literally backing away from me, terrified! MT was shrieking at them to get back in there, when I called out to her. "Hold your tongue, treacherous woman!" She stopped, surprised. "NIELD?!?! You should have died! We knew they had a presence here... but you? You're the all-terrifying Master of the Grand Army?" I laughed. "Hardly! The Grand Army is in the hands of one far more capable than I!" She smiled, revelling that she knew something I didn't. "Not since they were destroyed in the battle for Grlhfrug!" I frowned. Grlhfrug? "Nonsense. There's no way they lost at their own HQ! Not to you lot!" She laughed wickedly. "Oh aye... but we are now in an alliance with the planes of Purple and Grey!" I looked at one of the newest batch of pyromancers, who had recently returned from the Grand Headquarters. "It's true..." He said quietly. "I was going to tell you when this broke out." He said. I smiled kindly. "It's okay. We'll just have to kill this lot and avenge their deaths."

The undead? Pfft. easy to kill. MT stayed back, keeping the poor, undead Alex with her. I could hear all these people, crying out for rest. I gave them rest. I won't describe it to you because it's highly repetetive and- let's face it- boring. Instead I'll skip to where she brought out her elite warriors.

As I slashed through the last of the undead and some collapsed simply from throwing themselves on me, I saw MT bring out her trump card. DoomKnights. Three of them emerged. She cackled. Yes, cackled, like a witch. "So, you may have killed all my pretty, pretty undead... but how will you fair against my champions?" As she said 'champions' the DoomKnights rushed at me. I raised my left hand and- focusing fire directly into it- fired off a small fireball that was strong enough to punch a hole right through the chest of one of the DoomKnights and continue on out his back. How do I know this? Because that is exactly what happened. With one sent flying backwards, dead, I turned my attention to the other two. There wasn't time enough to do to either of them what I'd done to the first and I engaged in one of the fiercest (*cough*yeahright!*cough*) battles of my life. I easily parried the axe of one and the daggers of the other. Just a few seconds in, one of them tried batting aside my scythe. The spikes pierced his armour and his hand, causing him to cry out in pain (I never knew DoomKnights could feel pain until this...) Using this to my advantage, I slide the tip of my scythe- and its ball of pins- into his face. With a satisfying squelch his face caved in and when I removed my scythe from his head, it took a fair bit back with it. Then I sliced his Axe in half. Either it was a very weak Doom weapon, or my scythe was far stronger than I had anticipated. The other DoomKnight had pehaps better thinking. Thinking that the blade-ball was simply a guard, a shield, he made a grab for it. He brought both hands down upon it and they were promptly ripped to shreds by the blades that had awaited him. His armour was as nothing compared to the blades. Horrified, he tried to punch me in the face with the stump that had marked the start point of his right hand. This only served to rip it to more shreds and cover my face in blood. I actually heard him cry. Using my scythe, I cut his legs off at the knees. Then, I left him there. He would surely bleed to death. But I found myself facing another problem. The first DoomKnight. The only one I had killed cleanly. MT must have reanimated him. his weapon, a staff was held in two halves in both his hands. He must have tried to use it to defend himself from the fireball, but it hadn't worked. As he charged me, the two halves of his staff in his hands, I just stood there. Then as he got close and made his move, I turned my back. I heard another satisfying squelch and felt and saw blood stream forth out of the wounds, covering me. Then I jerked backwards and forwards again, dislodging the DoomKnight and he fell to the ground with a loud thump! When I turned to face MT, she had turned a very pale green. While we could hear the battle raging between my armies and her undead still, we both knew that if she died... it would be over.

But, of course, she still had one last ace up her sleeve. Alex. He stepped forwards and I could hear him pleading with me to release him, even if his mouth didn't move. The soul most definitely is not bound by the body. "When did you get him?" I asked MT, as his body was still remarkably preserved, seeing as how 200 years had passed. "About five years after I killed him. I didn't bother looking for you- I knew you had always wanted to be cremated- but now I see I should have." It didn't matter. "Come, Alex. Let us give you something approaching the death you DESERVED.

We fought. Hours on end, we fought. He with his death-tainted aquamancy, me with my rage-purified pyromancy. Again, I will not bore you with the details. Basically just us firing spells for two hours. Then, at the point where things seemed too well matched, Alex slipped. Or rather, MT's concentration and by association, her control over Alex slipped. This allowed me to quickly bring my scythe up to a spinning frenzy and unleash a cartwheel of fire at him. The cartwheel hit its mark perfectly, searing into him and slicing him apart. MT shrieked "NO!!!!" But Alex's soul breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, my friend." He said. I nodded. "You can hear them?!?!" MT shrieked. She was very good at shrieking. "Yes, I can. But what you should be worried about right now... is you." With that I charged at her, full speed. She shrieked- again with the shrieking!- as I rammed my shoulder and the pins on it into her chest and then into the cavern wall. She fell, her chest crushed, but she was able to get off one last parting shot before she died. "Hahaha... I was just the advance party- the initial skirmish... You... will... never..." Her voiced trailed off then. Perhaps the fact that I smashed my hand into her face, causing it to cave in and a mass egress of its contents helped that along.

So... this was the beginning... the beginning of the Green War!




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (4/15/2011 9:50:04)

Chapter 4: Who unleashed the Jabberwocky?

I'm not going to detail to you everything they sent at me, only the biggest and the baddest and the hardest. Which leads me right into the first battle after MT and her undead. It happened only about five days afterwards. So let's get cracking.

A brief respite. As in, very brief. They must have known before sending her that MT would fail. Something weighed on me very heavily. While I now understood that the Grand Army had fallen at Grlhfrug. What BOTHERED me was that now MY armies were considered the Grand Army. I knew my armies' sizes and knew there should still have been others far larger. I sent one of my pyromancers back to the Grand Headquarters and when he returned, he informed me that the Green War (wars between colours are named for whichever one started the war) had taken heavy tolls on ALL the other armies, so mine, having not been involved in the war so far- except for the skirmish with MT, in which we did not actually lose a single soldier- was untouched and now, the largest.

Indeed, it was just as I was set to order that we return to the war major, I was informed that the greenites and their allies had left them well alone, as now, crippled and destroyed, the only person left in all the Armies with any chance of standing up to our enemies was... me. Before they marched on Grand Headquarters and slew our Glorious Leader, they needed to get rid of the one thing that could stop them. So, they held absolutely no punches. They sent their own Grand Army against me. The peoples of Lore never even had any idea of what raged beneath their feet. Down in the tunnels, the catacombs, the caverns. The world beneath the world.

They consisted of everything they had. There were warriors, there were rogues, there were mages of every type. It was just me and mine- which consisted of the same types of soldiers as theirs, though with a few... extra- against them. We were easily, EASILY outnumbered 1000-to-1. Sure, they had the numbers, but we had the knowledge. We had shaped much of the underground system ourselves and there was precious little the greenites could do to change it. This was perhaps one of our saving features. We were able to fight them in a sort of bottleneck for a while, before they found their way into some of the caverns. This is where I'm going to start this off.

"Sir! They've found their way around the bottleneck!" I nodded. Sure, I'd hoped it would take a little longer- seeing as so far we'd only killed a few thousand of them, with only 1 or 2 deaths of our own- but you take what you can get. I headed over to where they were breaching one of the caverns, only to be met by high winds that blew them away and crushed them against the cavern walls. Any arrows that they fired were blown away and- in some cases- even killed some of their own soldiers. I leant some of my own fire to the mix, causing a blazing gust of wind that literally seared some of their bodies into the walls, causing an odd type of 'art'. They were soon countering with their own winds, which boosted their arrows. Mostly they aimed for me, but their arrows just bounced off harmlessly, not even putting a scratch on my armour. I left this in capable hands, as the greenites soon fell back, realising they'd be wasting their strength trying to push through at this point.

I moved to another area, where we were having less luck. The sheer amount of their necromancers were overwhelming my own (Even though I, personally couldn't stand the art- due to being able to hear the souls crying for rest- I acknowledged that necromancers were useful) so I stepped in, spinning my scythe, in the same manner as I did 140 years ago. I unleashed the burning tornado that sucked up most of the enemy undead and allowed my own to summon more to slay many of the green necromancers, evening the odds.

We had lots of little successes, where I'd step to the front of the field and even the odds in our favour, but they were eventually bound to break through. They did so in perhaps one of the most unlikely of places. One guarded by my pyromancers. When I glanced in that direction, I saw my pyromancers fighting against hopeless odds. I saw my few pyromancers there fighting aquamancers and cryomancers from the three planes of green, purple and grey! There was no chance of them winning against such odds and soon a vast majority of their army broke through there. Angrily I pointed my scythe in their direction and, charging a lot of fire through it, fired out so many small pins of fire (not the pins from the balls) in that direction. in what is described as a 'bullet hell' many of them went down, including ALL the aquamancers and cryomancers who had allowed them to break through there in the first place.

I strode towards where they were pouring out as their anti-pink specialists charged at me. These specialists are what you would call 'ninjas' they moved silently and unseen... by most. I had long since learnt the signs of one of these specialists and showed them no mercy as they charged at me. I cut one in half at the waist, I charged into another, the spikes on my breastplate making short work of him. Another I grabbed by the chest and, jumping up high, slammed him down into the ground, my gauntleted hand driving through his chest. Another I dispatched with a roundhouse kick to his head, the spikes on my boot turning his face to mush, as well as most of what lay inside his head. In short, they threw themselves at me (one quite literally. I merely turned my back on him) and I cut them down. One was a little better than the rest and he managed to sneak up behind me. He brought his sword down on my head with all his strength, but the force snapped his blade in two, leaving only a small scratch, little more than a nick on the helm. I grabbed him and set fire to his insides. Smoke was pouring out of his every orifice as he slumped down, dead.

There were many small skirmishes in this larger skirmish, so I won't bore you with all the details. There was no end to their soldiers and we knew there was really only one way to get them to retreat. Kill their leader. Now, you might think; So what? You've killed their leader, but why would they retreat if there's still so many of them? Well. The way it works is that, throughout everything, there is a code of honour in our wars. You fight using your blade(s), your bow, or your magic. The only explosions are caused by fire-magic. There are no catapults, no cannons, the only ranged weapons are bows. Part of the code is, if your leader dies, you don't have anyone in charge of the army, as only the leader of the colour can assign such. So, without anyone to LEAD you, you must lay down your arms and surrender, as you have no way in which to plan any attacks as that is SOLELY done by the army's leader. Make sense? If not, tough luck.

At some point whilst fighting the specialists my glasses had fallen off (Oh, don't look so surprised! They're only for reading and I didn't really have the time to put them away when this started!) but that was of no consequence. When I reached the main invading body I proceeded to fight against them for all I was worth. Which was a lot more than they were worth, as they were only able to put a few scratches on my armour. Now, at this point you must surely be wondering how I could be so inordinately more powerful than my enemies. Well, truth is, the strength/power/whatever of leaders of armies grows as the size of the armies does. However, the soldiers get no such benefit. Soon I was fighting against many of their specialists all at once. They kept nicking at my armour, but, due to their strength that was all they could do- nick at it.

Soon, however, I realised that there were some enemies who were stronger than others, and whose deaths caused small amounts of the enemies to throw down their arms and await death, prison or torture. Perhaps all three. I realised that not only was this their Great Army, but some of their smaller armies as well! I passed orders back to my soldiers that, if they saw anyone who seemed to be leading soldiers, they probably were and that they were the top priority to kill. With that done and noted, I turned my full attention back to the task at hand. I was completely surrounded now and, slamming my fist (When I say fist, it's my left one. My right hand holds my scythe) into the ground and sent out a shockwave of pink fire, obliterating much of them. Now, to be fair this is about... 14 hours in and I was starting to get a little bit tired. But don't worry. If needed to I could fight for a week straight!

After about another 13 hours, we heard a roar. A roar of rage and a roar that terrified much of my armies. "No... not The Jabberwocky..." I heard someone breathe. I merely rolled my eyes. Please, he's a man as much as I am. In fact, he's my brother. Yes, he's green and I'm pink. There's no big deal really. Stranger things have happened. He came thundering down the tunnel, his soldiers either getting out of his way or getting flattened. I smiled. At least he'd be a worthy opponent. He was a giant of a man, he stood at a height of 4 metres, but even with that, he wasn't quite yet a giant. What really made him a giant was also his BULK. Imagine the bulkiest guy you know. Now make him 4 metres tall, keeping all measurements to scale. He's not as big as The Jabberwocky. That's really the only way I can possibly describe to you his size. His skin was a pale olive green, but his hair- what little of it he had- was a vibrant emerald green. His eyes were chartreuse, an odd color to see indeed. He was clothed very simply. By which I mean to say, his only clothing was around his groin area, front and back. His weapon was a mammoth claymore, which was a full 6 metres in length.

All fighting stopped as he charged. They all knew that the outcome of this battle would decide the rest of it all and there was no point in fighting anymore. All eyes turned to watch us. I steeled myself as he came thundering down the tunnel, I knew the first blow would be his and he would have a lot of momentum behind him- if I got hit, I'd be flattened- so as he came near, I dodged him and his momentum kept him going until the center of the cavern, where he stopped. "Come, Nield. Let us do battle." He boomed, his voice actually shaking the walls a bit. I strode towards him, confident in my abilities. Perhaps a bit TOO confident.

So we fought. There was no time to use magic, so the fight consisted wholly of scythe vs claymore. To begin with, I charged at him. He gripped his claymore in both hands and parried my blow easily. Then he let off a punch, aimed at my head which I ducked easily. As he overreached I was able to slash along the inside of his arm. He roared in pain, but this did not diminish his strength, or his capability. He punched at me again and this time he connected, sending me back a few feet. However, this also caused him to roar in pain, due to the spikes on my breastplate. Having this knowledge, he decided that it would be best to attack using only his claymore. On his first strike, I easily blocked it with my scythe, before I unleashed a chain-flurry of blows myself. Alright, now, at this point I'm going to point out something. This battle went for THREE HOURS, so I'm basically going to just skip to the point. After his last blow, I found myself spinning, disoriented. There were now plenty of scratches on my armour and at one point he had actually managed to knock my scythe from my hand. He smashed his claymore into me and sent me flying. I crashed to the ground and lay there. He approached laughing and- when he bent down low- I suddenly thrust my right hand into his giant mouth and said; "Laugh on this." An explosion of fire from my hand literally... exploded his head. Bits went everywhere and his now-headless body staggered back four steps before collapsing to the ground. I went and reclaimed my scythe and- sticking one of its blades into his heart- proclaimed; "I have slain Balgrud Balthasar, otherwise known as The Jabberwocky!"

The greenites stared for a full minute, stunned, before retreating. Naturally, we let them go. One of the Lorian humans came up to me. "Why are we letting them go? Why not just slaughter them all here and now?" I looked at him. "Our honour demands we let them leave and face us again. Also, there's really far too many. If we broke the code of honour, they'd annihilate us." He didn't seem satisfied, but that was all I'd give him.

There you have it. I killed my brother and we defeated the Grand Army of Green. But, of course, they'd come back with new commanders many, many times. But any of that that I will tell you can wait. For now, I need to go have a nap.

Author's note: I have recently come to the realisation that I suck at fight scenes when I'm not RPing with someone. Go figure. I yearn for the old Fight Club... but that's enough of my problems.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (4/24/2011 6:57:55)

Chapter 5: A New Alliance and the Gloved Menace.

Alright alright alright, I guess it's time for the next instalment. This next one is a doozy. If you were impressed by my scythe at all... let me tell you, compared to the weapons of some of the Generals in Green... it is as nothing. Also, you may feel it... unlikely that me and mine survived in a war against a far larger army all on our own. Well, we didn't. We did receive some help. This part takes place a few months later.

As the Greenites fled, again, we settled down to await the next battle. They were wearing us down and they had received some more assistance, to boot. The planes of red, yellow and blue had joined them. I received a message from one of my scouts, which read: 'If you have the time to spare, I ask your audience. ~M.N' I wracked my mind trying to figure out who M.N could be. When I couldn't I said to the scout; "Send them to me." And he went off to do so.

The man who walked up to me was someone I recognised, but not someone I had met before. Mechajin Nanashi, Spongemaster and Commander of the Combined Armies of Teal and Silver. He wore his armour in a fashion dissimilar to most Technomancers. Instead of wearing the breastplate over the coat, as most do, he wears it beneath. Also, rather than tearing the sleeve off at the shoulder on his left arm where he wore his Technomancer's Gauntlet, he had it removed in a precise manner, such that the Gauntlet appears to be an extension of the sleeve. His silver hair comes down to his shoulders at the back in a rigid manner, while at the sides it comes down to his chin and no further. While most of his hair is parted away from his forehead, three bunches came down in varying lengths, but extended no further than his eyebrows, which were also silver. The scarf common to all Technomancers, rather than the usual red was coloured teal. On the right shoulder, the arm with which a Technomancer wields his weapon, is a rank badge. The rank is Spongemaster, denoted by three horizontal lines topped by a sponge at the center of which is a gold star. His weapon is a Silver Katana, a weapon that seems to the eye to curve with far more grace than any other katana. The blade of the katana is silver, with runes inlaid of wisps of smoke, coloured teal. Indeed, if you look at the katana right, there actually appears to be teal smoke floating around it. Whether this is by trick of the eyes or design is unknown to me. The guard of the katana, coloured black, has lines of teal that run from its bottom up to meet the start of the smoke runes. There are two parts on the guard, where it extends. These occur on the bladed side of the katana and curl back towards the hand of the weilder, curling up on themselves at the end. Down these are runes in the same manner of those on the blade, lending to the illusion of smoke around the weapon and are also coloured teal. The hilt itself of the blade is teal. Mechajin's face is an odd one. While to look it straight on, you would see it as tanned. However, peripheral vision reveals it to be a curious mixture of teal and silver, one that blends so well it is hard to say where teal ends and silver begins, with the reverse also true. His eyes are a kindly shade of teal, one that inspires a want to trust. His nose is pointed, but in such a fashion that it appears to be rounded at its end. When he speaks he does so in a melodious tone, one that is referred to as Silvertongue. That his tongue is coloured silver may have lent itself to the naming.

"Greetings," He began in that melodious voice. It does leave one thinking that the owner is of no possible harm. A fact that makes Mechajin Nanashi easy to underestimate. "Nield, word has reached our ears that a rogue plane, Grey, has without our knowledge pledged itself to the forces arrayed against you." He paused. "The planes of Teal and Silver would like to offer our assistance." I would gladly take all the help I could get. But I sensed a 'but'. "But," There it is. "We have a single condition." "Name it." I replied. "Should we meet Lady Mritha on the field of battle, there be no attempts to render her form... unuseable, as she has saved my life a number of times." No limb-hacking, got it.

The person to which Mechajin references, Mritha, is an odd sort. She is another person of whom I'd heard, but not seen. Indeed none of my soldiers appear to have encountered her so far. She is equipped in the armour of what is called an Evolved Dragonlord, with the vast majority of her armour coloured black, with the trim coloured purple. The helm she wears is known as a Mirrored Dragonlord Helm, which reflects the colours of her armour. Her eyes blaze purple through the eye lenses in a curious way, reflective of the curious way in which her eyes are a dark, yet bright, purple. The Spines that sprout from the back of the helm are also purple. While few who have seen Mritha without her helm have lived to tell the story and as she rarely removes it, what I'm about to tell you is rare knowledge. Her face is pale and gaunt, a haunted visage, where once it had been tanned and fair. Her eyes as I described before were once like golden beacons. Her hair, now ebony, which extends down to her shoulderblades, had once been white. These changes happened long ago, but at the same time, have yet to occur. The cause for this is that she entered into an odd ocrridor of time, which has caused her to have dual existances, in not only separate planes of existance, but in different time periods of these planes, both as a servant of purple and the normal course of her life. The reason that she is as she is now, is because of a man named Surt, who once removed her heart and tainted it with darkness. Her dragon Odgne is black as an unstarred night's sky, with wings, horns and eyes of a dark purple that lends itself to the shadows. Her weapon, the Dragonlord's Loss, was tainted since its original crafting. The blade of the sword is black, with the hilt and guard purple. the handle of the hilt is mostly silver, with purple metal twisting around it joining the guard and the pommel, which is also purple. As her heart is removed, one cannot kill Mritha in combat. She may be defeated, but not killed. To kill her you must find her heart and pierce it. If, however, one were to separate her limbs from her torso... her body would be quite useless and this is what Mechajin does not want to happen.

I nodded, before rising to take his hand. "I gladly accept your help and acknowledge your condition." He nodded. I continued; "Personally, all I want to do is take care of the Greenites, so I'll leave the Greys to you, as well as as many of the others as possible." He nodded, clearly pleased I was leaving the erroneous plane to him.

Soon there was a noticeable increase in the amount of soldiers, an addition of around about half again as many as there had been before. There were also some... other additions. Some spongeapults. Now, a few of you may be wondering why, when I've previously stated there aren't any catapults. The answer is magic. No, I'm not just using it as an excuse. The spongeapults which are only used by the Combined Armies of Teal and Silver were created by magic, their ammunition is created by magic and they're fired using magic. So they come under the heading of magic. After deliberating with Mechajin, we aimed them at several of the smaller entrances into the main cavern. The reasoning is this: Because the smaller entrances are, well, smaller, they would be easier to overcome and, once taken, easy to defend as more and more troops come pouring out. Accordingly, I also lowered the guard on those entrances that were under the watchful eyes of the spongewarriors.

After a few days we were growing restless. Surely they must attack soon?

A few more days, just as it was getting to the point when we thought they'd given up, they came back with a vengance.

They literally swarmed us, those few small entrances quickly falling. The cavern was soon resounding with BOOM! as the sponges were let loose.

Much of what I've detailed before, except now we had far more soldiers, thanks to Mechajin. So I'll skip to the General.

The voice resounded through the cavern. "ENOUGH! I'll deal with it!" The Greenites all fell back and we let them go. The voice could only belong to the General who was in charge this time. He was not one any of us had heard of before and from his appearance we thought they might just be scraping the bottom of the barrel. He seemed simple enough, with no weapon in sight. He stood slightly above average height. His eyes were the green of fresh grass in spring, with his hair the colour of grass just beginning to yellow. A curious mix to be sure. The colouring of his skin made him appear constantly nauseous. His hair was cut short, mere tufts at the back while allowed to grow long and hang down to his shoulders at the front. He was clothed simply, in a robe that looked like it had definitely seen better days. The sleeves of the robe had been torn off long ago and holes in it revealed his bare chest beneath. He still wore undergarments, thankfully. The only part to his outfit that didn't look like it needed to be thrown away was his glove. This little oddity was black for the most part, except for where one's hand would enter it, which was yellow, as well as the back part of the main hand section. On the palm of the glove was what appeared to be a very well described purple mouth. Which as it turns out, REALLY IS A MOUTH! As the General walked, he seemed to be annoyed at the glove, flicking it and frowning at it. He turned and placed the palm of his hand against one of his soldiers... and seemed to pick him up. Soon we could see the poor person's life being drained away. Literally. He aged as we watched and when he was just a dry husk, he was released, dead. On his chest there were marks as if something had tried to EAT him. We had the idea something just had. The General seemed much more satisfied with the glove now.

I raised my eyebrow. Seriously? That was his weapon? A glove that could eat people's life force? Well, No. He stopped and made the action of drawing a bow with an arrow in his hand. When he had his hand 'pointed' at me, the glove rippled and then there was a bow in his hand with an arrow notched! I barely had time to dodge it. Indeed, I didn't fully dodge it, the arrow boring through my left shoulder and I howled in pain. It had pierced my armour so easily! Needless to say, I took him a lot more seriously after that. He charged at me, his hands in the position as if they were holding something heavy. Again his glove rippled and a large axe appeared in his hands which he brought down on me and I met it with my scythe. I was able to fight him off easily here and he dropped the axe and it disappeared. then he came at me, his gloved hand held out like it was a clawed hand. When the glove rippled it DID become a clawed hand! The claw looked exactly like the glove did... except as a huge claw. As he brought it down on me, the claws raked across my armour, putting scratches in it, but failing to cut through, then when he brought it down again, I made to block. Except I did so with my left arm, which didn't respond well and he close around my gauntlet and ripped it to pieces! My bare hand, now bloody and cut up was exposed as the armour that once surrounded it was torn asunder. Then he changed his hand to the shape of a fist and brought it down, catching me straight in the chest. I was thrown backwards as most of the spikes on the breatplate were torn off. When I got up, I launched my own offensive. Seeing me, he raised his gloved hand up as if he had a shield. Which of course meant he did, once the glove rippled and changed. All of my attacks were met by his shield and when I knocked him back, he changed his glove so he held a katana and charged at me again. This time I was able to meet all of his attacks with my scythe and block him. I was getting savvy to some of his techniques now. But not savvy enough. In the middle of one of his attacks, the katana he was holding changed into a hammer and when it met my scythe, it knocked it clean out of my hands.

It was at that point that I realised that it must take concentration to define what the glove turned into. He must have focused his willpower through the glove while moving it and his other hand to accomodate whatever shape he was making it.

As he changed it back into a katana, I noticed his attacks had a little less force. It must be using an energy of some kind. This was when I remembered what he'd done before the battle. The glove must run on life power. Literally, LIFE power.

I tried to fight against him like this, with no weapon, but I soon got caught by a solid hit to the side of my head with a hammer. This not only put a crack in my helm, but sent me flying. As he walked up to me, he laughed. "You never really stood a chance, you know that?" They always seem to gloat when they should kill me. Because that's the point where I reached up and pulled the glove off with my hand. His eyes widened as I removed it. "Nice glove. I think I'll keep it." I said, shoving it over my ungauntleted hand and then brought my right, still gauntleted into the side of his face, mashing it and sending him spinning to the ground. I focused thoughts of holding a katana in my left hand and soon I was. When he saw this, he had an air of finality around him. "Oh. **-" Whatever expletive he was going to utter died on his lips as I sliced his head in half.

There were cheers from my Armies and from Mechajin's as the Greenites and members of the other planes arrayed against us fled. As I retrieved my scythe, Mechajin approached me. "Fancy thing, that glove." he said. I smiled. "Yeah. Kind of odd it works on energy it gains by stealing the life from people, though." I said, frowning down at it. Exactly what kind of weapon was this and where did they get their hands on it?

Author's note: Mechajin Nanashi and Lady Mritha are used with the permission of the respective forumites.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (4/28/2011 10:24:51)

Chapter 6: The Four Cs.

Alright then. Things started to get a little weird after that last encounter. This next instalment takes place DIRECTLY afterwards. As in, straight from where I was talking to Mechajin. Anywho, yeah. I suppose I should stop beating around the bush and just get right onto it. Like right now. so... yeah. I'm pretty sure there was something else I was going to say... but I forgot. Anyways, here it is.

I decided my first stop should be my library. If anywhere had information on this glove, it would be there. I searched high and low through everything I could read, but found nothing. So i ventured into some of the texts that were quite simply supposed to be indecipherable by any being alive, no matter how long they had been alive for. At least, they were SUPPOSED to be indecipherable.

"Hello... what is this?" I said as I pulled a tome off the wall. It previously had been unintelligible. Now, however I could read it quite clearly. "The Chaotic Clothing of Collected Colours." I read. "Interesting title." I said. I opened the book and read the short introduction. 'This Booke Details and Documents The Chaotic Clothing of Collected Colours. Let it be known by thee, that these items that clothe should never be gathered together. And all should be kept from the Gathering Cloak.' I'd probably have put the book away, except for the fact that the next page detailed the Feeding Glove and included a hand-sketched image of it. It was the very glove I now wore on my left hand, the one I had liberated but minutes ago. I read the title for this page. 'The Feeding Glove. Source of power for the Chaotic Clothing and Summoner of Otherworldy Weapons.' That sounded about right. 'Also known by it's epithet "The Hunger Glove", this item of the Chaotic Clothing is the one that must be kept from the Gathering Cloak AT ALL TIMES, with a far greater importance attached to this task than there is with any other item of the Clothing.' There followed simply some of what to look out for should you encounter it, but I don't think I have to tell you about that.

What was really interesting was that it detailed who had the items. The next item that was listed was the Gathering Cloak. 'The Gathering Cloak collects all the energy that the Feeding Glove takes from its victims. Given enough energy, the Cloak is not only able to power the rest of the Chaotic Clothing, but it is able to reproduce some by itself.' The cloak itself was simple, purple in hue, except for the pink archaic symbols that glowed from time to time all over it. I did not need the book to tell me who had it. The cloak is worn by the Glorious Leader of Pink. I suddenly got the feeling the rest would be found amongst those forces arrayed against us. Indeed, looking back at the glove, it was supposed to be in the custody of Yellow. Who were fighting alongside Green.

The next item was the Seeing Shirt. 'The Seeing Shirt allows one to gaze deep within a person's soul, to see what lies there. Use as an offensive weapon, though effective when correctly demonstrated, is a feat of considerable difficulty.' Very interesting. It was very similar in design to the cloak, except instead of pink symbols, they were blazing red. It wasn't hard to tell that the Reds had this one.

The fourth listed item was the right-hand glove. 'The Healing Glove is the opposite of the Feeding Glove. Where the Feeding glove will take life from a person, the Healing Glove has the ability to return it, as well as healing any other wounds a person has received.' The Healing Glove looked exactly like the Feeding Glove, except it was grey where the Feeding Glove was yellow and it had no mouth. No brainer, the Greys have it.

The fifth item was the Flash Boots. 'The Flash Boots are so named due to that, when powered, they enable the wearer to move around as quick as a flash of light.' Short and to the point. I was definitely seeing a pattern in the items. They were all mostly purple, asides from where they had the other colours (With the exception of the gloves, as they had bits of black). The Flash boots had blue symbols. So, they were kept under strict watch by the Blues. Perhaps not strict enough.

The sixth item was the Stoic Leggings. 'The Stoic Leggings are so named because they have no practical use whatsoever. They exist merely as the conduit by which power flows from the Gathering Cloak to the Flash Boots.' Kepping true to the style of 'simple covered in archaic symbols' these were covered in green. How fitting that they should have the item with the least worth.

The seventh and final item was the Knowing Helm. This one had no associated sketch. 'The Knowing Helm is the most mysterious of all. When combined with the Seeing Shirt, it provides a capability for strategy unseen in all of time. The Knowing Helm is also the only item that appears to be whatever its wearer wishes it to be. It also is the only item that is able to function without being powered by the Feeding Glove, making it extremely useful in combat.' So that's why there was no sketch. It was to be found among the forces of purple... and I had an inkling... that Mritha had it.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (5/9/2011 1:03:46)

Chapter 7: Purple? More like Hurtple...

So now I knew what it was I needed to gather. However I didn't see any of them for the next 150 years as we fought.

I was getting very irritable, taking my anger out on my soldiers at times. The assault had been relentless, they were beginning to use underhanded tactics, so I was as well. Siege weapons were becoming a more frequent sight on both sides and not always powered by magic. Also, the other colours, not just green were getting far more involved. Sometimes it was a General from one of their Armies that lead the fight.

This time, however...

"Sir! We've got reports that Mritha herself is leading this next assault!" exclaimed a scout. I stood. "Really? Mritha herself?" Mechajin looked towards me and I gave a small nod. I still remembered his condition. He grinned back at me. I got ready for what would surely be an intense battle.

They came at us like a wave. A big wave of suicide soldiers. Which was basically what they were. They swarmed us with no regard for their own lives. A good strategy, it allowed them to overrun some of our positions and then flood into the cavern. A strategy most would not think to use... Mritha must be leading them, then. The Knowing Helm must be a very powerful item then.

As a large amount of them swarmed towards me, I held my scythe and a katana I'd summoned using the Feeding Glove together. Then as they got close I parted them and rushed forwards, slicing through all in my path. When I had cleared away all those near me, I dropped the katana, watching as it disappeared, then I brought my right hand, still holding my scythe, to my left, in the action of drawing a bow. I fired off a purple blazing arrow, that pierced through and killed around 7 warriors.

I experimented a lot with my new toy, making sure to keep it well fed, latching onto enemies and sucking their life away.

Soon enough we heard the roar of a dragon, Odgne. Which meant Mritha was entering the fray.

Odgne came through first, through one of the larger entrances, breathing fire as she went, taking out more than a few of my soldiers. Mritha came through immediately afterwards, cutting down many of the soldiers that had survived Odgne's fire. I dropped the axe I'd been using at the time. If I was going to get her helmet, I was going to need to use a weapon I was far more comfortable with. Before I could start towards her however, I was accosted by several Deathknights. "You shall not approach Lady Mritha" The lead Deathknight said. Inresponse I slashed at him, cutting his head off.

The others fell shortly and I charged at Mritha. Seeing me coming, she raised her sword and deflected all of my attacks easily. "Hmph. Is this all you have to offer, Nield?" She asked. I snarled at her. "Nah... I'm just warming UP!" As I shouted the last word, I unleashed a beam of fire at her. She fell in on her knees, easily ducking the beam. Then leaping to her feet and charging at me she said; "My turn."

While I had difficulty in landing a single blow upon her, she bypassed my defences without breaking a sweat. She'd swing left, right, feint, feint, strike just as I overreached the tiniest fraction. Eventually, breathing hard I was able to lock her sword against my scythe. Before I was able to take any advantage, though, a tail swept me, knocking me back. Odgne! I'd forgotten about her. Now I found myself facing a battle on two fronts, as Mritha swung with her sword and Odgne with her tail and claws. I took many blows but most were glancing blows, unable to deal any real damage.

Eventually, however, as I wore down...

Mritha swung her blade at me and I brought my scythe up to block. Worn down by many years of war, my scythe broke. As the section of the blade broke off, the fire within was unleashed, shattering the rest of the scythe and sending bits flying indiscriminately, some hitting me, parts hitting Odgne and Mritha, others flying off into the main warzone. One piece hit my helmet where it had been cracked by the General who had had the Feeding Glove. This caused the crack to widen. Mritha's sword was still in motion and its arc brought it straight down on the now even more weak part of my helmet.

As her sword hit my helm, the cracks spread like wildfire across the whole helm and it shattered, as I was sent flying, tossed and tumbling, into the cavern wall. As I groaned and tried to stand, or even crawl away, Mritha strode towards me. She did not pause to gloat as the others whom had bested me did. She strode towards me with the sole thought of ending my life. As she brought her blade down, however, it was met by a silver katana.

"Hello, Mritha! Not often we meet on opposite sides of the battlefield!" Mechajin called cheerfully, as he drove her back. As I struggled to regain my footing, I could see that Mechajin fared far better than I. Both brought their blades down, but neither could score a hit. Having fought alongside each other so often, they each knew the other's strategies.

Strategy! I need that helm, if I am to defeat Mritha. As I regained my strength, I used a summoned katana to drive off anyone who attacked me.

When I had recovered enough, I watched the two very carefully, looking for an opening. As Mritha's full attention was on Mechajin, she left herself vulnerable at times. During one of these periods I charged. Odgne saw me too late, her roar alerting Mritha to my presence as I jumped over her, taking her helm as I went, leaving her ebony hair to come free, swaying in its newfound freedom. Surprise and anger passed over her face, as she snarled at me. Holding the helm, it changed to reflect my helm, before it had shattered. While it bore marks from its time in other forms, it was still extremely sturdy. As I placed it upon my head, my vision seemed to clear. Everything seemed to slow down slightly, as I was coolly able to assess the situation.

As I charged back towards Mritha, Mechajin stepped out, to deal with some other enemies.

Now we were more of an equal match, our blades meeting as each of us launched offensives in turn. I did not have to worry about Odgne, as Mechajin was keeping her preoccupied.

After aroud two straight hours of fighting, I was able to lock our swords together. This time, as Odgne was not there, I was able to twist Mritha's sword out of her grasp. As it embedded in the cavern floor a few metres away, I brought my katana to Mritha's throat. "You lose, Mritha." "Then end it. Put me out of commission." She snarled at me, stepping closer to my blade. I smiled. "Oh but I can't. Not after I promised not to. You lose today, Mritha. Take your troops and retreat." "How do you know I won't just charge and fight you again?" She said. My smile widened a little. "I don't. But you don't seem like the type to do that."

A hint of a smile played across her lips, but then it is gone. "Well played, Nield." She said as I withdrew my katana from her throat. She went and picked up her sword, before whistling. As all the soldiers arrayed against me and mine and Mechajin's turned to look at her, she jerked her head towards one of the entrances. "We're leaving." was all she said, as she turned and left, throwing a salute over her shoulder, as they all followed her, her dragon at her side.

I sighed and sat down. My scythe's gone... All well. There's no point in replacing it, I'll stick to the glove. "That was a close call, Nield. She nearly had you." Mechajin said as he walked towards me. I nodded. "Yes... they're getting tougher. Thank you for stepping in when you did." "No, thank YOU for keeping to our agreement." He replied. I smiled at that, before we went to rest up for the next battle.

2 down... 4 to go.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (6/17/2011 9:10:38)

Chapter 8: Two Betrayals.

Hmph. It's you. Why do I even act as if I'm talking to someone? I'm writing in my JOURNAL, for pity's sake! Anyway, this next part shows a more... radical side of me. Next PART? I'm not writing a story here... Anywho, two years since the last entry.

Tensions are running high. We've not had a major battle in a while, and the latest one was a loss. Well, it was a victory, but a pyrrhic victory. I'd had to sacrifice a lot of good men that day... But that's enough of that.

We readied ourselves for the next battle, hoping for something exciting to happen. As I said before, our latest battles had all been minor, the Generals fought extremely low end. Either we'd nearly won, or they had something up their sleeve... Considering the meagre amount of Chaotic Clothing I'd gathered, I suspected the former was not true.

This time, they surprised us. Rather than have the troops attack meaninglessly to begin with, then have the General come through, the General came through first. He fell quickly though, yet the enemies kept coming. Most curious, with the General down, they should have stopped. Then we saw something that made us cheer, Pinkites were coming through behind the enemies, chasing them. Reinforcements! Finally!

However, it soon became apparent that something was amiss. The Pinkites were not attacking our enemies. Indeed, they were... mingling? Chatting? This makes no sense. Then, a figure approached, that made my blood run cold.

The figure approaching was our Glorious Leader... wearing the Gathering Cloak, as he always did... but he was also wearing the Stoic Leggings. The ones that had the green runes on them. "What is the meaning of this?" I called, in confusion.

"Nield! Finally! We've been trying to get word through to you for forever in an age! This war is finished, we have allied ourselves with the Greenites. They can give us power beyond anything we could achieve by ourselves! We've but to give us our Chaotic Clothing. In a gesture of goodwill, they gave me theirs to show their trust. I know you've gathered some of the items. Come! Bring them, and we'll be unstoppable at the side of the Greens!"

I started shaking, in anger. "You... you... TRAITOR!" I veritably screamed the last word. He recoiled in confusion. "What?" "You ally yourself with the enemy! Our GREATEST enemy! You are a traitor! Unfit to be the leader of the glorious colour of Pink!" I charged at him, not even taking the time to summon a weapon. "Nield! Stop!" I heard Mechajin cry. I paid him no heed. Before our 'leader' could act, I smashed my fist into his stomach, forcing him backwards. I grabbed him by his hair and started smashing him repeatedly. "Stop!" He shouted in vain, "This is madness!" "Madness? I'LL SHOW YOU MADNESS!"

After smashing him a few more times, I hit him to the ground, and he tried to crawl away. I grabbed his leg and pulled him to me, then, grabbing his head, I thrust my thumbs into his eye sockets. He screamed in pain, but was not killed. As he lay there, whimpering, bemoaning the loss of his eyes, I unceremoniously relieved him of the Cloak and the Leggings. "You deserve to suffer, traitor." I said, coldly. I thrust my left hand onto his chest, and the Feeding Glove did what it did best. It fed on him. I allowed it to feed, but made it do so slowly, far more slowly than usual. So, rather than taking a mere few seconds to completely drain him of his life, it drew out to an excrutiatingly painful few minutes. He was still screaming when the last of his life drained away.

Our enemies, and now the Pinkites, whom I would brand among them, had been watching, horrified. As I turned to them, they fled. I turned to my own soldiers. They stood there, grim-faced but steadfast. the realm of Pink would now be seperated irrevocably into two groups. My group, and the Pinkite body major. I looked around for Mechajin and his soldiers, but saw no sign. Instead, I found a note. 'I am sorry Nield, but I cannot fight alongside you any more. ~M.N' Hmph. It matters not. I wore the Leggings under my own, and the cloak under my Breastplate. 3... 4 down, 3 to go.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (7/5/2011 7:16:21)

Chapter 9 (and 10 and 11, all done at once): The Tumultuous Trio. (Next chapter is the Epilogue, which makes a total of 13 chapters and this story finished! Huzzah!)

48 years. More fighting. No more signs of the Clothing. Their numbers grew, whilst mine only lessened. Then, one day, a message. 'This is your final fight. We shall put our final Champions against you.' So... this was it. The final battle. En guarde.

I stood, awaiting my final foes. My armies stood behind me, and the opposing armies stood before us. Then, they parted and forward came the final three Generals. They were of the Red, Blue, and Grey colours. I saw the shirt of the first, beneath his armour, the glove of the second brandished freely, and the boots of the latter the only elegant clothing.

The Red General's name is Tumult. The Grey General's name is Diablo. The Blue General's name is Womba.

Tumult is a Deathknight, Diablo is a Cryomancer, and Womba is a Druid.

The Gathering Cloak billowed behind me from beneath my breastplate as I studied my opponents. It was hard to know which would give me the most trouble, as each had their own strong points. Tumult would be the hard-hitting melee fighter, Diablo the long-ranged magic wielder, whilst Womba... Would more or less make things up as he went along.

Tumult wore his armour with pride, his curse no burden. Diablo wore elegant robes, decorated with many a trophy. Womba... was dressed plainly and simply, in a faded robe.

I worked a few kinks out of y body as I waited for them to make the first move, and I was not disappointed.

Tumult charged at me, as Diablo fired of shards of ice at me and womba morphed into a raven and flew high above. I countered the shards of ice with a single blast of fire, but as soon as my vision cleared, Tumult was upon me, swinging his blade. I met it with a blade of my own, formed from the Feeding Glove. We met blow for blow until he swung away, leaving Womba, who had morphed into the form of a bear to drop down upon me. I backflipped out the way just in time and was barely able to meet his claws with my blade. Had I not been paying attention to all angles, the next blasts of ice from Diablo would have frozen me solid, instead however, I ducked them, as did Womba. Tumult, who had been coming from behind him to attack me again, however, was not so fortunate. He was frozen solid, and before Diablo could rectify his mistake, I removed Tumult's head from his shoulders.

One down.

Following his mistake, Diablo was now far more cautious in his magic, to ensure Womba did not suffer the same fate as Tumult. With his body frozen, he had not disappeared to reform elsewhere, but was stuck where he was, however, one of my soldiers retrieved the Seeing Shirt, less he thawed. Womba attacked from all sides in all manner of forms, with Diablo running support, ensuring I did not get too close. However, it was inevitable one of them would slip up sooner or later, and the one that did was... Diablo. He left a hole in his defence and I closed in on him. Before he could move to block me, I pierced his chest with my blade, and snatched the Healing Glove with my free hand whilst sending fire through his body from my blade.

One left.

Womba was easily the craftiest of the three, not to mention the smartest and most agile. I was unable to close on him, he would morph into a bird and flitter away before I could get too near, and was agile enough to dodge my blasts of fire whilst he flew. In the end, there was only one way to deal with him. And that was to let him through my defences. I purposefully overreached with my blade at one point, and then, as he closed in, his claws- for he was in the shape of a bear at the time- came at me. I continued through and ducked below them, and planted the Feeding Glove upon his chest. In shock he reverted to his normal form, whence he had the life drained from his body.

And that was that... or so I thought.

I now had all the Chaotic Clothing... Before I had time to equip these latest additions, however, one... final... opponent stepped forwards. "I shall deal with you myself, as my Generals and those of my allies seem unable to." It was the leader of the Greenites. My greatest foe. I handed the Flash Boots to one of my soldiers, along with the Healing Glove. I would take him without them. I also removed the Knowing Helm. I did not feel it nessecary for this final battle.

My opponent had no name. If he ever had, it had long since been forgotten. He was a pyromancer, like myself. His armour was far simpler than mine.

We fought, exchanging blows, but dealing no damage to one another. After a time he stood back, saying to me: "My powers against yours. Let us see who is more powerful." We both unleashed our fire at each other, causing a massive wave of heat. To begin with, I was pushed back, my boots shattering against the force, before I unleashed my full fury, easily overcoming his fire, incinerating him. Our fires must have thawed Tumult, however, because he slashed at me with his sword, going straight up my face and passing through my right eye. In rage and pain, I unleashed armageddon upon him, leaving no trace. Later, I would use the Healing Glove to heal the wound, but leave the scar to remind me of this final confrontation.

Author's note: Womba is used with permission of Womba, Tumult and Diablo are my own creations.




nield -> RE: (DF) Animosity (7/7/2011 5:26:32)

Epilogue: ...And Chaos reigns.

My name is Mechajin Nanashi. I write in Nield's journal, for Nield is gone. There are events that have happened that must be recorded, and here, amongst the events of the man who has gone mad, is where they best fit.

In recent years, The plane of purple pulled out of the war. They no longer fought. One day, the plane of Green sent their revenge. Multiple assassins snuck into the headquarters, and slew Odgne, Mritha's dragon. Afterwards, scarred by the loss of her dragon, Mritha sat alone, broken.

Now I shall write of the events that transpired after Nield's last entry.

I walked into the hall, where the leaders of the other planes were gathered. Those of the planes who had fought Nield were new, as he had sought out and slaughtered the old ones. The only colour that was missing, was Purple. Many of them had followed Nield when he left.

Ah, I'm getting ahead. I should start, with what happened immediately after Nield's last entry...

Mere days after their final battle, the forces of Green marched into Nield's lair, in surrender. However, all that was found... was a note. Soon I was called down, for this note was addressed to me.


'Mechajin Nanashi... You fought alongside me once. So I have decided to spare you. After I put on the Chaotic Clothing, a figure appeared before me. This figure was Chaos himself. He offered me and my armies power, and we have taken it. We shall return one day, and when we do, none shall be safe. ~N'

Reading this note, my blood ran cold. On a hunch, I made immediately for the plane of Purple. When I arrived at their HQ, I found it in flames... Moving through, to where I knew Mritha was housed, I found a sight that froze me in place. As I opened the door, I saw on the opposite wall, a figure. It was a dry husk, with a blade protuding from the chest. It was Mritha... I found one Purpleite in the room, he was rocking back and forth. "What happened here?" I asked him. He opened his mouth, and he said this: "Nield came through, Mritha was sitting on her bed, as she does now, after the loss of Odgne. Nield hauled her up, and she offered no resistance. He... He grinned savagely, before he cut her limbs off, one by one. She... She screamed with each limb removed, but she was too broken... still unable to provide resistance. Taking up her blade, He impaled her upon the wall. Then... Then he... he... How could he do so savage an act? He placed his glove, upon her chest, and reduced her to the dry husk you see... He left me here, to tell any who came of what happened. I... I had to end her suffering, didn't I?" He pointed at her head, at the blade protuding from there. "You did the right thing..." I said, but was met with no response. Turning back to him, I saw he had slit his own throat once my back had turned. I shook my head, and explored further, to try and find any survivors.

Coming upon the room of their Leader, I found a note attached to the door.
'We have followed the Pink Pyromancer. We serve Chaos now.' I shook my head. I left, and called the other planes to meet.

I walked into the hall, where the leaders of the other planes were gathered. Those of the planes who had fought Nield were new, as he had sought out and slaughtered the old ones. They turned to me as I entered, falling silent. "Nield and his followers have disappeared. They have taken up an offer from Chaos, to serve him. The plane of Purple has followed them. We have found Nield's journal, and shall uphold it until such a time as he returns. We must be ready when that happens. I shall remain on the world, Lore, should that be the place to which he returns."


That's it, guys. Animosity has now concluded.




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