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lordkaho -> RE: (DF) The Hounds of God (6/29/2012 4:54:53)
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DP6
A blood curdling scream pierced the dusty hallways. Jeanne and Noir quickly rushed to the location of chilling, gurgling voice. They traced the scream to a yawning iron door, at the very end of the hall. Beyond it was a great expanse devoid of light, just a pitch black darkness made nauseating by its crushing agoraphobic atmosphere.
Noir lit her hand with the rune Ansuz, and its bluish flames illuminated a small portion of the area around them. They soon met a steep descent down, with mouldy stone steps that led further down. Judging from the partly visible forms masked by the darkness, it was roughly three times larger than the previous one they had entered. The thin, dry air was largely akin to that of a tomb. It reeked of death, and stillness. The gripping silence that blanketed this cold, dark domain was nigh deafening. Around them, were large stone columns, erected along a great aisle, each of which were chiseled with twenty foot tall statues of various warriors clad in armor somehow resembling the one displayed by the stone slab that contained Gregory Innocentius' words.
As they went down, Jeanne accidentally tripped on something large blocking the path. Noir raised the fire over the figure, but what the light revealed had taken the duo aghast.
It was the emaciated corpse of Henry. It was missing both arms, cleanly sliced from his shoulders. The wound showed no visible physical distortions or lacerations, as if whatever weapon or force that had cut his arms simply phased through it without leaving a nasty mark. His copper respirator was also missing, revealing a shriveled face that bore frozen expression of great fear. His eyes were not blank open sockets, with small fumes coming out of it, and his badly burned body looked like it was drained of bodily fluids.
A grisly end, but there was nothing more they could do.
"May your soul find deliverance in death, as life spent in service of His Grace is an honour that outweighs an eternity." Solemnly spoke Jeanne over the body.
Noir was pretty surprised that Jeanne, of all people, would recite one of the sacred scriptures for Henry, as it was something reserved to fallen Inquisitors. It seemed that even during the very short time of Henry's time as a member of the Order, Jeanne might have actually respected the Vurrman. Jeanne asked Noir to ritually burn the corpse, for its ashes to be safely returned to the Inquisition to be blessed for a final burial. They placed Henry's remains inside Jeanne's leather pouch.
However, there was no time to be remorseful. They needed to know the cause of their companion's death and who or what was responsible for it, something that could lie deep below the chasmal chamber.
After minutes of walking, they finally reached the bottom. The air now felt colder, and the floor, scarred and ruined, showed more signs of a struggle.
"This feeling...It is not of evil..But there are some forces slumbering here." Said Jeanne.
"What forces?" Asked of Noir, as she began to scan the sea of darkness with her scarlet eyes.
"I'm not certain. It feels like forces trapped..Or more likely 'sealed'. Whatever these anomalies are, they are not hostile."
Noir was completely silent. She could not see anything, but like Jeanne, there were faint traces of dormant energies all over the chamber. They carefully paced closer into the vast empty space, and the further they went, the air began to weigh down on them. The forces now, once assumed harmless, now felt like condensed into concentrated ranks.
No longer able to withstand the crushing weight of the enigmatic energies around her. Noir hurled a ball of fire into a random direction. The smouldering globe of flames hit a figure within the darkness, and what the flames revealed was a sight too horrifying for mortal eyes.
It was a cadaver, a great number of them, with barely any flesh strapped to its blackened bones, was clad in the same bulky horned armor, with varying sizes and colours. They stood in great rows and flanks, an army of the standing dead, intricately positioned in a macabre design.
"What in King Alteon's name?!" Exclaimed Jeanne.
Noir noticed several stone oval dishes along the corners that were used as braziers She thought that some of the flammable liquid may still be usable.
"Jeanne, stand back a little."
The vampire lashed her right arm, spewing forth streams of fire from side to side, lighting braziers one by one as she went. Eventually, the entire chamber sprang back into life as light was brought back to its dim, dark world.
It was indeed a stunning sight to behold.Before Noir and Jeanne, their eyes laid witness to a great columns of mummified warriors, all heavily armed, facing a great stone altar. The altar bore a massive larger than life marble sculpture of the late Grand Inquisitor Innocentius, capturing all his glory and grandeur.
Beside him were two limestone pillars with flowing red flags that fell all the way to the ground. In it, were written the words:
Ordinem Draco Domini
It was a language commonly seen in many Inquisitorial icons, murals, and even one of the scriptures and sacraments are written in this old, forgotten language. Jeanne was well tutored in the language due to having access to such knowledge in her times as a special student of one of the Order's top academics, Julian Hetaroi, the grandson of Helios Hetaroi.
She carefully translated the writings and translated it as; "Order of the..Dragon..Lord.."
To them, this had quite little meaning. In this turn of the century, little was known of such an order ever existing but what strike great curiosity was the term 'Dragonlord' itself; Dragons were already a stuff of myth and legend, much more so were these fabled warriors who were said to be able to harness a dragon's power.
"Could it be that...All these people are dragon lords?"
"There is only one way to find out." Answered Jeanne as she had set her sights unto the mysterious altar.
The two walked down along the lane between the still, lifeless bodies. The altar itself was like a sarcophagus, laden with a dark stone trim, and a lid made of silver, emblazoned with many fanciful ornaments and cryptic letters were deeply etched unto the sides. Beneath it was another stone tablet, painted in a deep red tint; Jeanne wasn't sure if it was blood or just pigment. But far more important was the message carved on it.
"With the coming of times most dire, strife and turmoil shall devour the sons of the fatherland. The soil shall be drenched by the blood of the righteous and the lost. The once great pillars of the Crown shall die an unmourned death, dying in obscurity as it had lived in life.
But lo, he who wields the might of the Dragon King, cunning of the Queen of Silence, and knowledge of the White Cardinal, shall be bestowed the power to twist the sealed doom about to unfurl! Only with a zealous heart, and a mind of steel shall he be worthy of such power, and we, who lived and died beside the Dragon King's sword, shall be silenced no more."
"I think this is some sort of ritual." Said Noir.
"No. It's a prophecy." Jeanne whispered as turned around to face the vast army of the dead. A grim expression fell upon her face as she compares it to the state of the Inquisition. But Noir on the other had, had a similar expression of horror, but not because of the enigmatic message.
There came the sound of chains, rattling eerily around them. They could not see it, but it felt very close. The ghostly echo started to envelop them as if it was about to constrict them with an invisible lariat.
It was only then when, Noir felt the adrenaline rush up her body.
"JUMP!" Shouted Noir.
In impulse, Noir grabbed Jeanne's hand and leapt off the ground. Just then, they heard several blade-like weapons smash against each other as the vacated the otherwise empty altar.
"Invisibility...I see your trick."Proudly said Noir as she smiled triumphantly.
"What devilry is this?" Asked Jeanne, confused and somehow nervous from the impact.
"Our friend here is afraid of showing himself. I'll break that illusion, however..."
The sound of invisible chains began to clatter again, this time in a wild, frenzied manner. But before any harm was done, Noir shout out with great force, her words; powerful and infused with magic.
"MANNAZ!"
Her right hand, stretched wide and firm, glowed brightly as a billow of wind burst out of her body. Soon, a shock wave of blue bubbly energies shot out from underneath her feet, rippling across the vast expanse of the chamber.
Mannaz, the rune of Truth and Reason, had revealed for a moment a glimpse of their assailant. Attacking them were throngs of spectral chains, ethereal in appearance, mostly a swirl of violet and blue, and upon on each end were menacing claw-like daggers. They slashing and cut through the air like hundreds of motorized shears, emitting an almost ear splitting noise.
-=Music=-<--Clicky
The chains had stemmed from a shadowy figure just beyond the alter. As if acknowledging their competence and skill of the two, the deadly chains disappeared into thin air. The figure, slowly walked himself towards the light, but from the silhouette alone one could make out a large headdress mounted upon his head.
However, they soon discover that the figure was in fact a SHE. She had a lightly shaded olive skin, indicating that she was a native of the Eastern deserts. Her garments were white silk, trimmed with pure gold, and rested upon her head was a golden headdress that bore semblance to some bird, reminiscent of the old Sandsea Kings. Across her face was a sheet of white cloth covering her mouth, baring her deep scarlet eyes, outlined by a thick shade of purple. Black locks fell down to her shoulders, neatly clipped by golden bands.
The iconic armor and appearance, It did not take them very long to know how she was.
"Grand Inquisitor...Alaya...Vistaraja?!" Screamed both in unison, their voices were full of astonishment and fear.
"Wh-what is she doing here? Isn't she supposed to be dead??"
"Every tomb has its guardians. I suppose she is also guarding hers. It's hard to believe, but I can feel that what we're looking at is a mere projection."
Noir was getting delirious as reason began to vacate her thoughts. There was something about this figure, some sort of aura emanating from her sapped its victims of logic and sanity.
"Then why here? I thought this was the 1st Grand Inquisitor's tomb?"
"That...I cannot explain." Jeanne too, while trying to maintain her resolve, was still in complete disbelief. To face a person such as the second Grand Inquisitor, was an event filled with awe and dread.
Suddenly, Noir felt a deep sting pierce through her left eye. She placed a hand on her face, only to discover a hole where her left eye should be. Blood started trickle, then gushed in a torrent of red liquid.
"Impossibl-"
She soon found herself stumbling to the side, what remained of her vision could see her right thigh cleanly detach from the rest of her leg. The attack was instantaneous, denying the already extremely agile vampire of every chance to evade. Jeanne carefully watched in horror, everything seemed to have slowdown to a complete halt, as Noir fell down motionless into the cold pavement, too awestruck to even let out a scream.
"N-Noir..." Jeanne whispered, traumatized by the sight of her companion butchered like that, so easily and so swiftly. But fear, soon became into fury. For once, she it had hit her that this vampire was important to her, for reasons she cannot explain. But even with their countless bickering, Noir still qualified, though vaguely, as her 'best friend'. Jeanne no longer cared that before her was the Second Grand Inquisitor. Matters such as respect and reverence were no longer amongst Jeanne's thoughts. What mattered is that this person, alive, a ghost or an illusion,
But, whatever action she may have had thought or planned to were all in vain, as the moment she thought of retaliating, hundreds of wraith-like blades went piercing through her delicate body.
"Wh-"
Blood watered down from her mouth as blades repeatedly stabbed her chest, ripping and grinding every piece of flesh on her abdomen. She could feel the blades gorge inside her, eating her voraciously, breaking her ribs, and repeatedly disemboweling her. One chain, resembling a scorpion's deadly sting, impaled her through the back of her chest and in a mighty swing, threw her grisly mutilated body by Alaya's feet.
"AAaaaghhh...." Weakly groaned Jeanne as tears trickled down her frozen, watery eyes. Her face was permanent mask of extreme horror and anguish. She was unable to move every muscle on her body save for some parts of her face, allowing her to at least show some facial contortions. To suffer such a savage attack, she would have been dead over a hundred times had she been a normal person. But there was a grave problem; her wounds weren't healing as fast as supposed to. The second Grand Inquisitor's magic, a powerful soul weaver as she was known to be, seemed to have actually an effect on Jeanne.
Seeing how the Captain, now having her insides completely turned inside out, and a messy hole carved into her chest, was still miraculously alive, Alaya picked Jeanne up by the strands of her hair. She gave her a penetrating gaze of curiosity, her red tinged eyes bore down into Jeanne's pained, sobbing face. She tried to analyze what was keeping her alive, but found no answer.
"Khered." The otherwise completely voiceless Alaya finally spoke.
"Nety set-a iew pen.." She spoke in a thick language, one that was spoken by the old people of the Sandsea; now replaced by the King's english.
She was amazed on how even she could not detect a fragment of Jeanne's soul, despite still being alive. But this is more so, of her probable lack of one. Showing her frustration, she tightened her grip on Jeanne's head, to the point that she was almost crushing her skull with her bare hands, topped with her golden spirit loom that sported a clawed gauntlet, addinng much to the intended pain.
Jeanne cried in agony, tears now dripping down her bloodied face.
"I-It hurtst! It hurts!" Cried the young girl. Then came a voice from below.
"S-Stop it...I beg you.."
It was Noir, still alive, and had regenerated her sliced leg, but she was still missing half of her face.
Alaya quickly brandished her spirit loom, and out came spectral knives that slashed off Noir's arm. But the vampire still stood.
"Let go of her." Her voice was now defiant.
But a chain scythe instantly materialized behind her; still too slow to evade Alaya's attacks, her body is cleaved into two pieces.
"AAaaaghhkkk-!!...."
Jeanne watched as her friend's upper body separated from her lower body in a grisly fashion. Her intestines splattered across the ground messily, accompanied by another pool of thick red blood.
"Noir..." Jeanne whispered her name again, as a tearful look hung over her face.
Now slightly annoyed by her persisting existence, she clamped her fingers around Jeanne's cheeks then slowly pressed against it. The slight squeeze was about the force of two boulders crushing her face.
"AAAagh!!" She screamed, but no matter how hard she cried in pain, she had lost the motivation to resist her opponent. There was just no way to win or escape from a force of this power.
"Jea...Jeanne" Noir weakly croaked, as she crawled into the ground trying to reattach her dismembered lower body.
"Wait...for...me.."
As Alaya was toying with Jeanne, busying herself n crushing the life out of the girl as slowly as possible, Noir tried with all her remaining strength to finally sew the last sinews of damaged skin on her stomach. Wiping the tears off her eyes, she stood up again to confront Alaya.
"Look at me Jeanne. I will show you why they call me 'Heaven Breaker'."
And with that, she tore the old bandages from her left arm. A shining miracle was about to happen.
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