Home  | Login  | Register  | Help  | Play 

RE: =WPC 2020= Hallowed Battlefield

  		Logged in as: Guest
  Printable Version
All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> The Championships >> RE: =WPC 2020= Hallowed Battlefield
Page 2 of 2<12
Forum Login
Message << Older Topic   Newer Topic >>
2/8/2020 1:29:20   
Chaosweaver Amon
Friendly!


 A miss. Far from ideal.

Worse than that, I had been noticed, briefly, by the woman. Thankfully, she was too preoccupied in the fight to do anything about it, but that still put me at a notable disadvantage. I lowered to the ground once again, and focused on blending into the shadows, few as they were. As much as I despised the ninja clan, I couldn't deny the usefulness of their teachings. I moved quickly through the grass, and I could sense the pressure of the fight intensifying. I found my dagger, kissed its handle, and sheathed it once more. That dagger had always been lucky; the fact that it missed the man by inches without him noticing did not back up that reputation.

Splash.

My ears perked up. I heard a brief gasp of pain, then the soft familiar whump of a body hitting soft earth. The man finally landed a hit, and the witch went down. Perfect. I rose gracefully from the ground, shedding the cover of shadows. The man turned from the woman's body and flinched from surprise. The fight had weathered him, but he raised his large axes in front of him, already prepared. I glanced from him to the woman's body, then back to him. He truly was sickly pale. The snakes writhing around his skin didn't make him look any better. A hard man to read, but I had seen him fight. I had a rough idea of what to expect, and that was all I needed. I gestured to the woman with my sword.

"Thanks for that."

No response. I thought about all the possible treasures that the combatants might posses. With a grin, I pointed my raised sword right at him. Finally. His stare was intimidating, but I could still see the fear behind his eyes. I knew the feeling. Fresh out of a tough fight, only to be faced with another stranger with unknown ability. The woman had been quick, but I was quicker, and in his exhausted state, his chances were low. It wasn't the time to get cocky though; I wanted to see some blood before I could boast. He sighed and raised his axes. I grinned, made a mocking bow, and welcomed his attack.

Come at me.
DF  Post #: 26
2/8/2020 23:14:57   
  Chewy905

Chromatic ArchKnight of RP


 The mask had been there when she had woken up. At first she thought the blackness she saw was just the void of smooth silk, but she quickly realized her eye had gone completely blind. She would reach to tear the veil away, to expose her false vision, but her wrist would invariably be gripped by a deathly chill that she could not overcome before she could even touch the shroud. Her hidden face never itched, never felt cold or hot, nor did it feel… anything at all. As far as she knew there was no face at all under that mask, just an empty hole where it had claimed its prize.



Her blade struck deep into the earth as she came down hard… on bare ground. She let out a coarse, barking laugh, filled with true mirth. Was she.. happy? Was this some form of joy, in the middle of a battlefield? Was this how she had always felt, sparring with him, hunting together to strike down the rage-touched? It had been so long since she had truly fought, that she had forgotten these feelings. This peace that comes in the chaos of combat, fighting for your life, mind moving faster than body.

The man had once more avoided her strike in this perfect dance of steel, having rolled aside to prevent himself from being pierced. This time, she would not falter. No more tricks. No more surprises. The shade within her mind leapt to its feet, and she responded accordingly, ghostblade slipping out of its earthen sheath and into the air. It spun quickly, with a flourish, and swung downwards, falling to meet the man’s rising left shoulder blade as he leapt to his feet.

She was too slow.

Out of her sight, rising in her blinded side, onyx metal kissed her silken shroud. The fabric was shredded instantly, the blade passing right through it and cutting a deep line all the way up her face. And she felt it. Fire. Lightning. An infinite expanse of cold. She was dying, her soul leaking out of her gazeless eye, exposed to the world. Sheath dropped from her hand, falling soundlessly to the grass. She clutched at her face, desperately trying to hold in herself, to cover up the hole that threatened to remove everything she was and drag it out of her body. She staggered back as she screamed. A scream with no rage, no sorrow, simply pure, chilling, fear. It echoed round the glade, ringing in her own ears as she struggled to keep herself sane. Her mind was fading, the thoughts of the joy of combat being drawn out of her through her blind eye. Her desire for peace followed, leaving her with no reason to fight. Her hands clung to her face harder. Hoping, praying, to a god she knew didn’t exist, that she could keep just one last thing in.

He left her. His smile. His fierceness when they spared. His lovely, lovely, music. And his name. They slipped out in the cracks between her fingers as she forgot every last thing about him.

Empty, dead, Silence stumbled backwards, her hands falling to her sides. She tripped on unsteady feet, and fell away, her last slip of consciousness leaving through her eye before she even hit the ground.


In a plane far from this world between worlds, an empty house sits atop a quiet hill, overlooking a peaceful village. The sound of clattering metal breaks the house’s long-standing silence as the sword on the mantle falls to the ground, knocked over by some unseen force. It bounces, and the sheath slips off, leaving naked steel to reflect the noonday sun that shines through the windows. The house returns to silence.



At first, Silence thought she had awoken back in that accursed city of black and white. Afterall, the environment around was painted in the same monochromatic tones. But no, it was still the same beautiful glade, and she could still see her foes all around her. She glanced at her form. Translucent. A faint outline of life, holding in the emptiness of death. A slight movement to her right caught her eye, and she glanced over. His blade hung at her side, suspended in the air, unsheathed. Ever so slowly she reached towards it. No. I can’t. I can’t take it. I didn’t draw it. I don’t deserve it.

A cold pull on her wrist gently drew her hand to the blades handle. A translucent, strong, familiar hand moved from her wrist to her own hand, gingerly closing it around the blades handle. The ghostly, gentle hand released hers, as it’s partner let go of the weapon, dropping the steel weight into her grasp. A similar weight fell into her left hand, and she looked over to see her own, shorter weapon, unsheathed at last, at home in it’s masters confident grip.

She closed her eyes, both of them, and saw his smile. Her brothers proud smile. He whispered to her. Not words, but music. The quiet, beautiful music that he had played for her every day.

Her eyes opened, and she returned to her place between worlds. Before her was the tattooed man, ink still writhing across his body as he held his axes at the ready. Silence was starting to gain some respect for the man. At the very least, he was incredibly skilled, but within him still were the fires of rage. She could not allow him to live.

But directly in front of Silence’s shade was a new foe, his back to her. A tall man, crowned by messy copper hair. He was well built, and also tattooed like the other. But these tattoos seemed to lack the mystical properties of the snakes, instead depicting foreign lands and marred by many, many scars.

Wounded so many times, yet he still has the gall to turn his back on a downed opponent. She glanced at her body, lying still in the grass. Perhaps it was for the best he had ignored her. But if he were to stand in her way now, he would earn more than a couple new scars.

Her phantasmal form charged forward, silent, invisible footfalls not causing even the slightest movement in the grass below. As the seaman made a mocking bow towards her previous foe, her arms rose, crossed, and fell, prepared to carve an X across his back with the blades of brother and sister.
Post #: 27
2/10/2020 4:22:28   
Necro-Knight
Member

Aleisha stopped speaking by this point. Even if she had tried, it would've come out as a growl or hiss at this point and simply waste air. She felt the unbridled satisfaction from her blade when the edge cut into her prey's flesh and left a thin trail of crimson across the vibrant greens. She landed on all fours and with a whip of her mental will, brought her dripping blade back to the sheath and with the same motion, reached out deep into the void for the raw power bestowed upon her.

The voices came back with a rush of promises and insanity that threatened to push her further to the ground, but she growled and pushed them back as she spun back towards her foe, hands glowing brightly. Erupting from the eyes located there in a flash of blood, crimson chains ending in hooks stretched out and whipped towards the now-blazing woman's ribs as the chains straightened out. With the wound now seeping from her opponents thigh, her pathetic little prey had limited movement, so she would hook her very flesh and drag her in for a feast of eldritch design.

At the edges of her now-burning vision, tendrils and teeth gnashed, trying to draw her attention away for just a moment to whisper their secrets in to her psyche. Master Nulgath had warned her that her mind was not impenetrable to the unending monstrosities that resided in the place without form, but just as wielding her blade, everything was a battle of willpower. She kept her eyes locked on her enemy, her prey... and nothing would distract her from that when she could already smell blood in the air so early.

If only you truly understood how meaningful your essence shall be.
DF MQ AQW  Post #: 28
2/10/2020 20:47:54   
Dragonknight315
Member

As Martin rose to meet the witch, she cast her discordant light upon him. Two sharpened edges, two takers of life, both having sworn to kill the other.

Martin tried to twist his side to lessen the blow, but he was already committed. There was only so much that he could do. The blade descended across his clavicle and down his side, slicing into his flesh and against his bones. His arm grew limp and bloodied as one tomahawk fell to the ground.

But his strike was true, and hers was not. Where one arm had failed him, his other found the mark, the steel tearing across her eye and into her skull. In one motion, the mask was torn.

And she screamed.

Like a banshee, the witch screamed with unmeasurable horror as she staggered back clutched the wound. As Martin landed, he wrapped his other arm around his bleeding side and looked onward. He could see the light fading from her silver eye as she screamed and screamed until she finally gave up the ghost. The witch fell unceremoniously onto the cold flowers below. Now, judgment had fallen upon her.

“I pronounce you. . . Unworthy.”

The Life-Taker had claimed another soul for the glory of the One above All. But for the first time in what felt like years, Martin felt conflicted. His life was an ugly one, no stranger to death. But looking upon the witch’s corpse, he saw so much potential in her, he knew. But the Shepherd had touched the woman’s soul. Martin gave her a choice, and this was her path; it was inevitable. It almost made him shed a tear.

Almost.

But you did it, yes? You enjoyed it—

. . . Yes, Martin agreed. There was no point in denying it, not after all the days of torture he had to endure. As the warm blood ran down his shoulders, there was a burning deep in Martin’s core. It was justified, he knew. He fought with every fiber of his being; to do otherwise would be to subvert his god’s decree. He was Lumen’s Scourge, and if the woman perished in her trial? Then so be it. The world would be a better place without her.

“May she find peace in the next life.”

With a sigh, Martin retrieved his lost tomahawk and placed both on his belt. He then traced the wound along his shoulder. It stung like fire as the cold breeze passed over it. The cut was not perfect, but it was close. He tried to move his left arm, but the nerves burned through his entire being. The witch’s blow had torn enough muscle from it to render it unfit for combat. Only in desperation could he use it again. But it was not unsalvageable. Martin had to act fast before he lost any more blood. By now, the scales on his right arm had almost faded completely into ash.

Yes, Misery, let us reward your strength—

The ink on his left arm sprung to life, and the serpent dove into the wound. Martin clutched the wound with a gasp as the scales erupted once more. He didn’t think it could hurt more, but it was a necessary bargain. The second skin would serve as a bandage for the time being.

Suddenly, another shadow appeared in the corner of Martin’s eyes. He spun to meet his next assailant with one tomahawk in hand, the adrenaline still fresh in his blood. It was the man from before. Like a gentleman— or a coward, he had waited from beyond until the fight was over. Martin wondered if the figure would regret his choice.

With the fighting paused for now, Martin looked over the man with those same unflinching eyes. Worn, ragged, but he still had a touch of youth to him. He couldn’t have been much older than Martin. Still, the man was full of scars. Looking over his equipment, the figure seemed to lack heavy armor, but he was well armed in weaponry. Judging from what armor he did have, it was clear that he was built to be light on his feet. Some kind of mercenary, perhaps a ship-hand?

As Martin was putting it all together, the mercenary smiled as he pointed his falchion towards the lifeless witch. “Thanks for that.” Before Martin could even nod, the figure turned his blade forward.

Another has come for judgment, Misery.

So he has. The soldier must have heard his challenge. Surely he knew what Martin was capable of? He could see the pride in the man’s eyes, in his wide grin. Perhaps the man thought that Martin would be easy prey now that he was wounded. The soldier gave a flourish before beckoning him with his sword.

Yes, he was a coward full of himself. It was all the proof Martin needed.

But as Martin was to start their dance, his eyes went wide as he saw it. The light— it was the same as before. Behind the man, the rays of red, lavender, and gold became discordant as the slightest, most faint shimmering came into view.

“The witch.”

They all came at once; Martin and the whispers echoed together as he muttered the words under his breath. At first, he wondered if the loss of blood was greater than he imagined, but no— Another shadow was cast onto the ground. He was certain; the witch’s magic still lingered. Whatever this was, her will was not done yet. . .

And it was behind the mercenary—

Martin smirked as he let out a pained sigh. “I see that you are looking for a fight, aye? So be it. I will pronounce judgment on you as well. But, if I am to do so, it must be a fair trial. So, this is your first and last warning. . .” Martin held his tomahawk forward and beckoned to the man.

“Watch your back.”
AQ DF AQW  Post #: 29
2/10/2020 20:52:05   
nield
Creative!


 Stab-stab

The girl finally started to show some initiative, instead of simply reacting to every single thing she did. Another manipulation of her rod, but this time the earth was not coming up from beneath, nor appearing in front, but coming from the side. A slight smile came across her face. At least finally she would deal some damage that she herself hadn’t simply decided to take.

She twisted her body, so that at least her head was safe from the incoming earth, which collided with a hard ‘thwack’ and sent her spiraling off on a diagonal course. Her tail swished and flicked behind her, keeping her balanced as she came in a wide arc around her Elfin target. Who was once more running away, though admittedly with some flair this time.

Stab-stab

She saw as earth erupted from beneath the girl, sending her flying towards the river from whence she had initially dogged her. She gave chase, unwilling to let her prey have any breathing room.
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 30
2/11/2020 19:21:26   
Oddball
Member

Her opponent had remained silent since their last threat, something that Fierra both appreciated and was a little afraid of. Still, she did say she was adept at rubbing people the wrong way, so the seething silence of the warrior in front of her was to be expected. This opponent of hers seemed to… Enjoy the fact that Fierra had been wounded with their first attack, so she’d have to be careful not to take any more unnecessary damage, or she’d quickly find herself in trouble. Though, it’s not like she hadn’t dealt with injuries like this one before, a controlled fire was perfect for cauterizing unwanted wounds, after all.

Now she’d just have to give herself enough distance to, actually, sear her wound shut! Which was easier said than done, what with the whole ‘Being chased down by an unholy abomination’ situation she had going on. She’d have to think of a plan, and quickly. No problem! She was a smart cookie, she could think her way out of this! Probably.

Looking behind her shoulder, Fierra noted that she was rather close to the bank of the river, and jumping across was doable! Maybe she could lessen some of her wound’s pain in the time it would take for her opponent to follow her? Better than nothing, she supposed.

The Monk was quick to tense her legs, wincing in pain as the tear across her thigh widened in response. It was okay! She had survived worse before, this was nothing right? As her opponent turned to face her, hands aglow with magical energy, Fierra released the tension in her legs and pushed off with a flip, narrowly avoiding the chains that were aimed towards her torso.

The landing was more painful than the wind up, and Fierra let off a loud yelp as her right hand found itself pushed against the wound upon her descent. Her eyes had never left the creature that had been so adamant on killing her, and she was starting to think that this… thing had targeted her specifically. Why? She’d no idea! But she was going to survive so she could find out.

The lingering flames still swirling around her hands would take a few moments to properly seal her wound closed, so she’d have to ready herself for another attack from her opponent and react accordingly. She was tired of playing this game of cat and mouse, but it was necessary for a chance of levelling the playing field. So, she stood, one hand pressed against searing flesh, the other held out in front of her, waiting for the next strike.
AQ DF AQW Epic  Post #: 31
2/12/2020 1:35:52   
Chaosweaver Amon
Friendly!


 "Watch your back."

The old man's voice echoed through the back of my mind as I faced my father. Covered in black from head to toe, his bright eyes pierced my soul. I could never forget those eyes. Suddenly, he moved, and was no longer in front of me. I felt him move behind me, ready to strike. He was too slow. His swing missed, my sword struck, and as I felt the steel meet his ribs, his body tensed, and once more I heard-
"Watch your back."

The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I leaped away, but not before my back was sliced open. The second cut only grazed me. I dipped past the man, sword extended, and gave myself some space. We faced other, hesitant. My shirt was wet with blood, but the adrenaline kept most of the pain away. I shook my head, frustrated. How did I let that happen? That cursed witch. I knew I was better than that; so why couldn't I focus enough to avoid such an amateur mistake?

"A trial?" I turned to the man. "Pronounce judgment?" He had taken a bad hit to the shoulder, and it looked like his snake-like tattoos were the only thing holding him together. "This place makes for a lousy court," again, I bowed, mockingly "'Your honor.'"

No smiles. It was definitely the woman that had drawn blood. But what with? She still looked half-dead, but I knew that when magic was involved, appearances were deceiving more often than not. Something wasn't right in the air surrounding her. Still alive? Somehow?

His tattoos slithered. I can't let those get to me. I changed my stance, facing him sideways with my hand behind my back. His eyes were still completely focused on me. Something was different about him...he barely looked human. I shifted forward, into a direct lunge. My sword made no contact but it wasn't meant to. It was the dagger, practically dripping with poison that was meant to speed this battle up.
DF  Post #: 32
2/12/2020 22:02:26   
  Chewy905

Chromatic ArchKnight of RP


 There was once a girl named Melody.

Melody lived in a small, wooden house, overlooking a village filled with friendly faces. She did not live alone. Her older brother, Sonata, was with her, always. Melody and Sonata were loved by the town, for every day they would travel into it to play the most wondrous music. Some days, they would play together. Others, Sonata would play alone, and Melody would watch, and listen, her body enveloped in the sound.

But that was not the only reason the village loved the siblings. Sonata was revered as a protector of the town, a hunter, for when the fires of Rage would take grip within a poor fool. Sonata and Melody would hunt together, laying to rest the Wrathful before their souls could be consumed. When they did not hunt, they sparred. An exchange of steel as intense and gripping as if their lives depended on it. They would smile after, and laugh, two siblings, together with a purpose. Melody was at peace.

But the fires of Rage continued to grow, the spirits grasping more and more at the souls of the wrathful, and the twins could not keep up as one. One night, there were two, and Melody and Sonata were forced to hunt separately. Alone. When it came time for Melody to strike down the wrathful, to free the soul from the burdens of anger, she looked into the elders eyes… and couldn’t.

He hadn’t lost himself yet. And he was so, so strong. She was certain he would be alright, that he could conquer the flames within and live out his last few natural days in peace. But she could not just leave him, so she banished him. Sent him far from the village, a desperate act of mercy for one that she believed deserved it.

He never returned. But the flames did. And Melody finally learned what her and her brother’s purpose had been, as it threatened to consume everything they were. They fought it together, as they always had, but deep within the flames, Melody could see the elders face. Her failure haunted her, shackles on her soul distracting her from the fight at hand as Sonata shouldered too much of her burden.

It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.

When the flames passed, they left behind naught but a corpse and a half-blind shell of a girl.

The villagers begged Melody to play for them, and to take over her brother’s task. She was their music, they said, their protector. With her brother lost, it was her that would save them from the flames of Rage.

She had tried, at first, to play for the village. She had taken up his erhu and sat before the village, prepared to bless them, to replace him.

But without a Sonata, there was no Melody.

There was only Silence.




There was a tug, as Silence’s steel bit into the man’s back, spraying blood that passed through her translucent form and dropped to the grass below. It was a pull that she could feel with her entire being, like a chain leash stemming from her eye, anchoring it to her body behind her. It was gentle, for now, but she could feel it increasing gradually, trying to drag her spirit back to its prison of flesh.

I do not have long.

This man was quick to react, though not quite as quick as the serpent-man was. He slipped forwards, a movement that was far too graceful for one that had just had their back torn open. He taunted the serpent, his voice sounding distant, like a mere echo in a cave, and once more delivered a bow positively dripping with sarcasm.

Silence hated it. What a fool. How had he already chosen to ignore the force that had harmed him? She would bury him with his own ignorance.

As he lunged forward, so too did Silence, jumping between the two men as the distance betwixt them closed.Fools blade passed through her, causing no pain nor discomfort as it continued its path towards the serpent. Her blades rose, and she twisted, her arms reaching out to behead both foes. The Wrathful and the Foolish alike would find their necks aflame with steel forged in her failures.
Post #: 33
2/13/2020 0:32:20   
roseleaf320
Creative!


 Her attack had hit, battering the animal’s side, but its tail kept it upright as it continued to race towards her. Leaf flicked her staff behind her, and the earth came forth beneath to throw her across the river to the other side. Water. She had a moment’s respite. She backed up just a few steps more and gently turned her staff downwards, coaxing the Pearl from its home to move over the water. It transformed, a sudden tide overtaking the surface until Leaf held a miniature sea in her control, its currents flowing unhindered by gravity.

But the currents longed to rejoin their source. And as the tiny sea reached the middle of the river, Leaf felt no pain, no mental fight for control, no tug on her senses. Just a sudden emptiness, and a splash of wetness at her feet, as the Pearl plummeted into the waters beneath it.

Her gift was gone.



Leaf felt a tug on her psyche- the Pearl wanted to move, to be free. Hush, Eyth, you can wait. I’m with Emilia right now. The two lay on the grass together, watching the stars begin to peek out from behind the glow of twilight. Emilia’s hair, tied loosely by a bright red ribbon, splayed out onto the grass beneath her. Leaf basked in the comfort of the moment. Emilia had just gotten back from a week long trip, overseeing expansion of a new village just outside El’dorai’s boundaries. While Leaf kept the forest safe from within, Emilia was keeping them safe from the outside, beyond what Leaf could reach.

But now they were together once more, and the Pearl was restless. Ignoring her pleas to stay silent, it sprung from its place on her neck, rushing over to the river beside them and zipping around like a small puppy. Emilia gave Leaf a concerned stare, and Leaf tried to feign control, but she knew she had been too slow. The Pearl was supposed to be entirely Leaf’s to command- but Emilia could see that it wasn’t.

Leaf forced out a soft giggle, trying to act unconcerned. “I don’t know what it’s doing today. It must be itching for an adventure.” If Leaf was honest with herself, this wasn’t the first time the Pearl had acted without her coaxing. Every once in a while she could feel its tug, and it would act of its own will. She had always been alone, though... and it was probably just Eythyr trying to speak with her, anyways. The Pearl was from its waters, after all, a gift given after her accident. Sometimes things just happen. She didn’t like to think about it too hard.

But Emilia tended to think too hard about these things. They’d bickered before, Emilia always so untrusting of Eythyr’s will. Now that she had seen the Pearl acting on its own…

Sure enough, Emilia sat up, a mix of emotions painting her face. Confusion, and… something Leaf could never quite place. An emotion that showed up often, that Leaf didn’t understand. Perhaps some form of determination.”Leaf… you know this doesn’t make sense.”

Why did she always have to think so logically? Leaf sat up to face Emilia, and crossed her legs. She tried to keep her voice calm, not wanting to start an argument, or another discussion she didn’t have the answers to. “Some things just don’t make sense. That’s how nature is. That’s how Eythyr is.”

“Leaf, I’ve been in this forest my whole life. Everything makes sense, even when on the surface it’s incomprehensible.” Her voice was growing louder, a mix of excitement and frustration. Emilia always loved to talk about things this way… Leaf hated it. “That’s why I became your diplomat, because I could understand the sense in both elven and human ways. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is you, and your powers, and your bond with Eythyr. Why would the river decide to choose a single elf, and give them such incredible powers and gifts, only to have them faulty? And now you’re the only one that can “speak” with Eythyr? I feel like something important is missing here.”

There it was. Leaf was getting angry now, the ground around her beginning to wreathe and tremble. Emilia could be so DENSE! Humans never live long enough to truly accept the mysteries of the world. To understand their place in it. And frankly, to understand how to watch their mouth. “Oh, so I’m just another puzzle to figure out? A problem you can figure out the one correct answer to?”

Leaf wasn’t blind. No matter how subtle Emilia tried to make it, she could still see her inching away, readjusting and pushing with her arms to slowly back away from Leaf. She heard a slight tremble in the woman’s voice, but Em held strong. “You know you’re more than that. Something in my gut is just telling me there’s more to this than either of us understand. Maybe that’s Eythyr trying to talk- I don’t know. But I need to find out.”

Stop! Get a grip, you damned idiot! “Eythyr doesn’t talk to you!”

“Because I’m human? Because you’re the one special chosen elf that befriended the river and no one else is allowed to?”

A bird called off in the distance, but that was all. Silence sat between the two women, a thick fog of words that didn’t need to be spoken. Leaf didn’t know what to say. And that was all the confirmation Emilia needed.

The human sighed and rose to her feet, her eyes dark as she gave Leaf one last glance. “I don’t think you’re as special as you think you are, Leaf. And I’m going to find out.”

“Fine. Go. Have fun searching for nothing.” Leaf’s insides ached, screamed, as Emilia walked out of sight. She prayed for Emilia to look back, to run back and hold her and apologize. Her legs itched, begging her to follow after Em, to say she’ll help her search, to stay by her side. But she couldn’t find the strength to stand. So she knelt, head down, for quite a long time, fighting the urge to vomit.

Emilia’s· ribbon washed ashore beside the waterfall the next morning.



Eythyr took Emilia from her. It toyed with Leaf’s power, taking things away at just the right moment so Emilia would see. It planted that doubt in her mind, the thought that it was communicating with her, all so that she would jump. So that Leaf would lose her. And here it was again, sending her to a place of warfare, robbing her of the gift it had given so long ago. She was simply here to be fed to the wolves.

Why would you save me as a child if I am to die here? Why would you choose me only to take everything from me? Am I no longer worthy? Have I failed you? Why don’t you ever SPEAK TO ME???

With all the strength her elven bones could manage, she slammed her staff into the ground, its end staking a hole into the dirt beneath. On the other side of the river, the ground responded in stride, dropping six feet into the earth. Her relentless attacker, such a monstrous thing, stared blankly downwards as it fell with the earth. The river followed it, spilling into the hole Leaf had created.

I’m getting out of here.
Post #: 34
2/13/2020 21:00:11   
nield
Creative!


 Stab-stab

Her target had landed on the other side of the river. Her eye twitched at the thought of having to cross it again. The girl sent her minion to the water where it seemed to transform into an orb of water and then it simply dropped into the flow beneath it. Her eyes narrowed, wondering what treachery her target was up to now. But the unrepressed panic that filled her face showed her minion’s descent was not her doing.

The girl slammed her rod into the ground and she went immediately on guard, ready for whatever direction the earth came-
It dropped out from under her, far faster than she could have reacted to.


She stared down dumbly at a hole that had not existed a single second earlier, falling into it and then jarring back to action as she impacted the side, her claws scrabbling for purchase as the river flowed over her face and down into the hole, dousing her wings as it did..

Stab-stab

Very shortly she was dragging herself out of the hole, her back having already dried and her wings just beginning to reform, when the hole unmade itself, sending her fumbling forward, landing with an ungraceful splash in the middle of the river. She stood up abruptly, glaring at her target. For the first time, she actually saw the person in front of her. She was scared. She had spent most of her time running away.

She had forced her to pursue across the river, getting wet in the process. She had tried to throw her back into the river. She glanced over her shoulder at her wing, already reforming once more. Was that it? Was the girl so utterly terrified of fire? It would explain why she had tried every step of the way to stay at a distance and had attempted to get her wet multiple times.

But why? Surely she could not be so naive as to come to battle and not expect that someone would-
And then it hit her, a great blazing question and she found that she had to ask it, before she went any further.


“Girl. Why are you here?” her croaking, hoarse voice called out. Her target hesitated, taken aback by her sudden chattiness. Her answer was as uneasy as she; “I don’t know.” She blinked. She didn’t know? How could she not know? This was a battlefield! How does one end up on a battlefield without knowing!

She was kind and warm, just like him. Stab-stab She was scared of fire, just like he was. STAB-stab She was utterly clueless, JUST like—

”She is not him.” She turns, acid barb forming on her tongue- and about jumps out of her skin when she sees me. She was expecting that entity, here. She shakes as she asks “What are YOU doing here?” I smile— she smiles that damn sad smile she always smiles. What does she have to be sad about, with her full wings? SHE’S still beautiful, her skin hasn’t paled due to insufficient heat generation. Her face hasn’t withered because she can’t sleep due to the constant pain, SHE’S not BROKEN like I am! I grit my teeth— she snarls and yells at me, “You don’t know a damn thing!”

I sigh. “Jicella. I am still you. I’m just… who we were, before. I’m the part you buried deep. Have you stopped to look at yourself?” Our mindscape shifts around us, as attuned to my manipulations as hers. She howls and throws her arms up in front of her face as I make our surroundings a sea of mirrors. For as decayed as she appears physically, that pales to how she sees herself.

Her form is charred black, grotesque protrusions of bone erupting from odd points. Her face is like an abstract painting, features smeared in directions that make little sense and she is without any flames at all. The mirrors shatter as she wills them away— the mirrors erupt into millions of shards as I sunder them with thought. She HAS to rub it in. How beautiful she is. How dead I am. She sighs. “That’s not the point.” “Then tell me, Jicella. What IS the point?”

“The point, dear me, is that that’s more than just how you see yourself. You’ve elected to actually BECOME that grotesque thing. That monster. You’ve relentlessly hunted this girl and she’s done nothing but play defensive. How must she see us? The same way you see yourself in a mirror, I’ve no doubt. He took much away from us. You’re the one who’s let you become what you are now.”

I scoff, but she just keeps smiling that damn smile of hers. She raises her hand— I raise my hand and shift the mindscape around us to images from that time. “Do you remember?” Our first memory of him. His warm smile. “We loved him.” my voice a bare whisper as images of he and us together race past. “And then he shattered our heart.” She says, hoarsely. “I tore his throat out with my fangs and mauled that- that hussy with my claws.” “And since, with every beat of our heart, pain has coursed through our body. Stab-stab. Stab-stab. Only rarely, when our attention is elsewhere, do we occasionally not notice it.”

“I still don’t get what your point is. All you’re doing is making me relive all the things I’d rather forget.” I sigh. “Out of everyone on this field you could have picked to fight, you chose the one most like him. You already killed him. Let go and move on. This Elf girl is not him, so stop treating her like she is. Go fight someone you SHOULD be fighting.”

—she deflated. She took a step forward and her leg bumped against something. She looked down and there was the girl’s minion, bobbing in the water. After a brief thought, she picked it up and threw it over to the girl. The thing swirled over to rest at its home atop her rod which she had tilted forward. There was confusion all over her face as she asked, “What are you doing? Don’t you want to kill me?”

Stab-stab

She studied her target for a moment, before she sighed. She had been right. She usually was. “That… had nothing to do with you. All I want, truthfully, is for this pain to just… go away.” Her target closed her eyes in thought, before asking another question. “What is your name?” Her name. Niqxzlqotl didn’t need names, they just were. So he had given her one. “Jicella. Jicella Ariella.”

The Elf smiled at her. “I am Leaf Which Floats on Raging Currents.” Her ear flicked. Certainly not one of the Elfs she knew of, with a name like that. “It’s an honor to meet you, Jicella.” her target took a brief moment to ready herself, before issuing a challenge. “Would you like to finish this fight and find our answers?” If that’s what she wanted, she would finish this. But you don’t have to kill her. No, she didn’t. Then she was running forward, out of the river, ready for whatever her target threw at her.
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 35
2/14/2020 15:13:20   
Dragonknight315
Member

“Watch your back.”

Martin watched as a light flashed in the mercenary’s eyes. The witch’s curse had come upon him, determined to collect his life, and he was just too slow. As the soldier tried to bolt away, the witch had marked him, bolts of red dripping from his back. He mustered his strength and leaped away, the discordant light passing through his former place. He was fortunate; one more strike, and it would have been over.

As the mercenary moved, he ever so slightly passed through Martin’s reach. Perhaps that was the time for the final blow, but he knew better. Martin simply paced back and watched the two before him and his serpents.

You could have slain him, Misery. Put an end to his foolishness—

‘And what then? Hand over my life to the witch’s curse? There are two foes, and I’ve only one arm to block with.’

. . . Are you afraid, Misery? Do you doubt the power of your petty god to protect you?—

“Never.” He shook his head at the very thought. They were simply goading him. “The Lord gave me enough sense to know the difference between right and wrong. Why approach now when I am at a disadvantage? There is nothing to be gained at this moment, no point to be made. Instead, let the man learn his lesson for ignoring the woman.”

He could see the chorus smiling with bared fangs in his mind’s eye, almost amused with his response.

So you deliver his soul to the hands of the Shepherd’s witch, then?—

“I would take his life with my own righteous hand, but if that is His will? So be it.”

As Martin continued to move towards the river, his vision darted between the bleeding one and the shimmering magic. Soon, the mercenary recovered and spoke out.

"A trial? Pronounce judgment? This place makes for a lousy court.” He made one final bow with a killing smile and faced the Life-Taker. “Your honor.”

He was a fool. Though he was grinning like a mad jester, Martin returned no such warmth. To mock him was to mock the One above All. The One who gave him mercy. The One who set him up as an equal to the whispers.

The One who held the apocalypse at bay.

As his heel touched the edge of the river, Martin’s mind was racing, his heart pounded in his chest. The ink coiled around his legs and raced towards his chest, ready to clothe his wounds once the first scales fell.

Both the soldier and the curse were moving, and their paths pointed towards the Life-Taker. He had to make a choice now on who to focus on. The soldier was self-assured and perhaps yet lethal, but his earlier actions did little to support him. But the witch’s magic had endless potential to it, and its wielder had proved her strength.

As their duel was to begin, he bellowed his prayer to all who had ears to listen.

“As it is written, evil may find mercy only in the shadows. But the Sun watches in the day, and His Stars watch the night. Where then can evil hide!?”

He held his steel forward as the moment was at hand. The discordant light was near, but the soldier moved ahead of it with his falchion in hand, lunging towards Martin with that same arrogant smile. But just as he thought, his strike was clumsy. A child could have dodged it, and Martin was far greater than his younger self. He pushed off with his feet and took a few steps into the river. The whispers rose once again into a chorus as he readied his tomahawk—

“END HIM, MISERY! En- end-”

—only to disappear. They were not silent. They were not hidden.

They were gone.

He felt completely empty at that moment and in his dumbstruck state, the soldier revealed his true intent. Perhaps Martin could have seen and avoided it, but in his shock, there was nothing he could do. With perfect grace, the man brought his hidden dagger forward and moved with purpose, pulling the dagger across his ash-covered. He could feel his flesh burning and melting as though it had caught fire.

Martin could feel the void in his soul as all slowly went quiet. His skin ached as the air met his bloodied skin instead of scales. With the last of his clarity, he moved his right hand to intercept the witch’s blow, but the steel grew heavy in his hand, sluggish, uncooperative for the first time in his life. It took all he had to block her attack, and the steel was nearly dashed from his hands.

He didn’t understand. How could this have happened?

There was no reply— no serpents to chide him, no father to hold him. Perhaps this was His plan, to rid the world of the final harbinger of the apocalypse. But the Lord was silent as well.

For now, Martin was alone, left at the mercy of his foes.
AQ DF AQW  Post #: 36
2/14/2020 23:20:30   
Necro-Knight
Member

Her chains swept wide, cutting through empty air and beautiful flowers alike, before burying their hook-shaped ends in the soft soil where her blazing prey had been standing moments before. Even wounded, the little wretch had still managed enough agility to leap back across the stream and land with the same relative ease Aleisha herself had done only minutes ago. Frustration was starting to boil deep in the black blood that coursed through her veins and she growled deep in her throat, an inhuman and guttural sound. This little girl was wounded, she had yet to land a blow upon the Void Herald and was now trying to flee? To prevent the inevitable? No, the Master had bid her to harvest souls and once she satisfied her hunger with this one, she would do just that. The Archfiend was her reason for being, her reason to hunt and kill. His presence weighed down upon her again, forcing her to her knees even in this estranged place and forced the air from her lungs. No words were spoken and no visions flooded over her mind's eye, but the fact that the Master had pushed his entire focus upon her this early in to the conflict did not bode well for her performance. She bowed her head again for only a moment in silent acknowledgement of his displeasure, before dismissing her chains, the weapons melting into long trails of blood that stained and wilted plants wherever it fell.

Reaching back, Aleisha gripped her blade once again and drew it from her shoulder-sheath, straightening back to her full height despite the Master's disappointment still weighing upon her like lead. The Void-born rose her arm out in front of her, blade tip pointing out towards the fiery woman who dared to defy both her hunger and Nulgath's will and let out a breath as she braced herself. The whispers rose to a chorus of eldritch words and Aleisha's took them in to her soul, channeling the raw power of the void into her very being and directing it down her sword arm. Bones audibly cracked and sinew tore as pale-white tendrils burst from her forearm, writhing and grasping for purchase before entwining themselves around what remained of her forearm and sword. The eye that seemed to be crushed in her palm emerged from the mass of quivering tentacles, before being joined by a few others, their sight darting about to take in their surroundings and glowing with eldritch power. The chorus died down to a low buzz constant in the back of her mind and the shadows receded to an unholy ballet of madness at the edges of her vision as the mutation completed with her blade elongating to a longer, more-broadsword-like state.

The added weight of the new, inhuman mass radiating power from her right side always felt awkward to her, but if she crushed her enemy with pure force instead of swift cuts, it did not matter. She would open the eyes of this little wretch and show her the truth that lied in dark places. Taking only a few steps forward, she kicked off the soft earth once again to follow her prey across the stream and as she felt the tug of the hungry depths, she immediately knew she'd made a possibly-fatal mistake. As she hadn't approached the water's edge to make her leap, she hadn't gained enough distance to project both herself and her new weapon across the surface safely and cursed loudly as she tumbled into the far shore of the river, chest and chin crashing heavily against the ground as her tool succumbed to gravity. Once again, the waters sunk their teeth into her power, draining it nearly instantly and leaving her nearly trembling with the physical exhaustion of her efforts so far. Far beyond the thought of the whelp who seemed to have no intent to strike her, Aleisha grit her teeth and closed her eyes, preparing for the sanity-shattering void to flood over her vulnerable mind and engulf her. Instead, her mental vision cleared and the only sounds ringing in her ears was her own pounding heart and the sounds of combat from the other competitors.

Dragging her twisted limb from the waters and dropping her now-normal sword on the bank, the tendrils melted from her bloodied arm, the filth staining the golden waters around her black. Even the Master's forceful presence had receded, the ache of disappointment having been washed away by the waters, leaving her with a sense of nearly-alien peace. Without the Archfiend breathing down her neck, she struggled to focus on her objective as the waters lapped at her legs, still submerged behind her. The battle was not going entirely her way, and if the fiend could not detect her failure, did she truly need to continue? She knew how many souls she needed to trade for what belonged to her, she didn't need to harvest these beings before her to meet her quota. It would only speed it along, and a sickening feeling of guilt settled in her stomach over the greed that had led her to submit so completely to Nulgath.

She cursed again, bringing up a hand to her forehead and running her fingers through her hair. Her eyes finally popped open suddenly when she felt... something writhing at the base of her skull, almost trying to slither away from her touch as she worked harder to grip the tar-like substance that crawled over the surface of her skin. A trick by her enemy, a curse? A parasite? As she drew a leg from the waters to brace herself, she finally grasped the edge of the mass as it tried to retreat beneath her armor and violently tore at it. Pain. Pure, blinding and raw pain wracked her skull and face as it felt like the very skin had been ripped free from the left side of her face and skull. The air, even as soft as the breeze blowing across the gorgeous fields was, stung at her cheek and her left eye squinted nearly-closed as the bright sun ached against her vision. A scream choking her throat, she looked down with her one functioning eye at the writhing patch of tar-like flesh in her grip. When she expected to see a patch of her own hair, what she saw was far more disturbing. The patch of flesh matched the same ebony hue as the claws that held it prisoner, but the edges writhed and twisted at the open air with long snake-like appendages that licked at her fingers and wrist.

As her gaze drifted down to the reflective surface of her gauntlet, she caught her own reflection. Stunningly blonde hair fell from the left side of her head and a brilliantly blue eye gazed back at her, a stark contrast to the fiery orange right eye that burned back at her. The skin she felt the wind sting at was pale and unmarred by the battle scars, a porcelain-like complexion that was stained with tears she must’ve shed from the pain without realizing. As she stared into that blue eye that almost seemed to belong to a stranger, a memory floated to the surface of her mind, free from the weight of her “master”. A Knight, strong and youthful, comparing her hair to spun gold and her eyes to a summer sky. The image broke the sound barrier of her psyche, sending her crawling from the water in a terrified panic and frantically tearing at any dark flesh she could get her claws on. It was wrong. All of it was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. She’d wanted her heralds back, but the darkness that had taken root in her heart had only been fed over the decades and now it had grown into a foul sludge that clung to her like a living thing. Even as she settled on her knees, free from the golden waters, she felt that anger and hatred already starting to overwhelm her as her power rushed back to saturate her bones with the urge to hunt and kill.

Arms simply wrapped around her body now as she felt the sickening darkness slither back into place on and beneath her skin, she felt it already closing the gap around her face, hair staining black at the edge of her vision. Just now remembering the woman she’d tried to murder as the whispers of the void returned in full force, urging her forward at the Master’s behest, she looked up at the fellow killer as the filth soaked into her eye and it returned to the fiendish orange of dark fire.

For the first time in years, she felt scared, but she was unable to determine by what. That she’d seen her old, fragile self or that still felt the urge to kill and tear her enemy apart even after getting a glimpse of her humanity? Surely her enemy had only seen weakness in the seconds that the breakdown had taken to come and go, and she needed to be ready. Shakily, she crawled onto all fours and sent a little burst of willpower to bring her blade up to her side, tip pointed at the woman. Even with her power restored, her mind was still reeling from both the sudden return of the madness and humanity at once, leaving her blade quivering as it hovered beside her.

“Don’t think… that just because you saw beneath the veil, little wretch, that it will keep me from… what is mine…”

That’s right. Ignoring the ArchFiend, ignoring the state of her being, the souls of her heralds still belonged to her, and only one being could help her get them back. She’d play the game for now, and when it was over… she would have what she was owed. One way or another.
DF MQ AQW  Post #: 37
2/15/2020 17:18:48   
roseleaf320
Creative!


 “Why are you here, girl?”

A question that resounded in Leaf’s head. It cracked through her blind anger like a knife, shattering glass. An echo of the words Emilia had been too scared to bluntly speak. That Leaf had never bothered to ask. And a reply that had never been admitted. Though Leaf knew the creature was referring to her presence on this battlefield, her answer cried out to her lover, to herself, finally given a voice after years of lurking in the background.

“I don’t know.”

How quaint it was, to not know something. How refreshing to admit it. “It’s what Eythyr wants,” she would say. “Nature’s ways can be mysterious,” or something similar. But never “I don’t know.” With all the power Eythyr had given her, with her connection to it, there shouldn’t be things she didn’t know. She was the person who was supposed to have the answers. To know the difference between good and evil.

The monster before her was supposed to be evil. It had relentlessly attacked her, with little reason, and no explanation. But it had halted its assault just to ask her a question. It could have pounced right on top of her, torn her to pieces. But it didn’t. The being could have left her Pearl floundering in the water. But it picked it up and tossed it to her, like it was returning a ball to a group of playing children. As if a switch had been flipped, and the creature’s murderous will had been turned off. As if the lines of good and evil were blurred.

Perhaps she knew much less than she thought.

“What are you doing? Don’t you want to kill me?”

The creature- no, woman, as Leaf saw familiar emotions cross its face- sighed deeply. An admission, a release of years of tireless running. Leaf knew that sigh all too well. “That… had nothing to do with you. All I want, truthfully, is for this pain to just… go away.”

Leaf realized the woman's words mimicked her own thoughts. The ones she was too scared to admit, even when she would confide in Eythyr, as she had this morning. It had been three years since Emilia had jumped. Three years of grief, of taking on two roles at once, of replacing her sorrow and love with anger as a way to cope. With hatred. But she was more than just Emilia. A hundred and eleven years she had guarded this forest. She could remember the accident clearly, her head slamming against the river floor, fighting a current much too strong for a child to handle. And yet the river picked her up and placed her on the shore. Giving her a wonderful blessing, and a hundred and eleven years of never being equal. Of being feared, revered, expected to shoulder so much. This phoenix, who had been trying to kill her moments ago, seemed to understand so much more than Leaf could ever voice. If only they had met under different circumstances…

“What is your name?”

At the very least, she should know that.

Her opponent hesitated for a moment, as if the answer to that question had not been spoken in a very long time. “Jicella. Jicella Ariella.” Such a beautiful name, and even through the phoenix's cracked and damaged voice, Leaf could hear it singing. A remnant of happier times, of love and hope. The future this woman should have lived. Deserved to live.

If Jicella had given her name, so wrought with emotion, it was only right for Leaf to give hers. “I am Leaf Which Floats on Raging Currents.” El’dorai elves were always named after the first thing their mother saw after their birth. They believed it would foretell the person the baby would grow up to be- so far, Leaf had tried desperately to live up to her name. Floating was just… harder than it sounded. “It’s an honor to meet you, Jicella.”

To be fated to meet here, on a battleground…

At first, she had only been fighting for her survival. To prevent the relentless onslaught of a creature she perceived to be unfeeling, bloodthirsty. But she wasn't supposed to be here just to survive. Eythyr had opened the portal for her, had beckoned her to leap. And her opponent allowed her a moment to think. Did they have to fight? What would happen if they both laid down in the grass, refusing to continue?

But if she did that, all of her questions would go unanswered. All of Emilia’s wondering, searching, would never be finished. And Leaf would never know why Eythyr had saved her. The woman had her own reasons to fight, too. Somehow, she was trying to relieve whatever pain she was feeling. So Leaf readied her staff, and addressed the woman before her with a voice of strength and resolution.

“Would you like to finish this fight and find our answers?”

The understanding must have been mutual. Soon the woman was charging at Leaf again, giving off an air of composure and resolve quite different from her initial movements. More tired, yet concrete. Leaf thrust her staff into the ground yet again. Her hands were steady now, no longer trembling from fear or anger. Earth rose in front of Jicella Ariella, a small wall which billowed outwards at its top like a mushroom. The woman was unaffected by the movement itself, but the earth would return. As the woman would dodge away from the wall, earth would slam back down onto her, hopefully crushing at least her legs and tail.

But Jicella did not dodge- she ran straight through. Dirt exploded from the creation as Jicella’s monstrous claws carved a path above her. Now she was merely steps away from Leaf, and primed for an attack. The Pearl, once again under Leaf’s control, soared from its place on her staff towards Jicella’s body. Soon, it would revert to its unnatural form- and Jicella would surely realize this, too. As the woman came within striking distance, Leaf aimed her staff at the woman’s stomach, jabbing the end as the ground beneath them rippled outwards to follow.

Scarred hands drifted forward to wrap around the staff. Leaf tried, desperately, to wrench the wood from Jicella’s grasp. But both women’s hands stayed tightly gripped, unwilling to lose their control of the fight.

”Control can be quite a hard thing to let go of.”
Post #: 38
2/15/2020 21:27:03   
Oddball
Member

Fierra began to think.

Her thoughts traveled across her many adventures. She had helped stop a civil war breaking out between two tribes, only to shatter the alliance between them and cause irreversible damage to the leader’s trust in her. It wasn’t her fault! She wasn’t the one who had been helping the surrounding bandit camps… But, it was her body, her face that had relinquished the tribe’s secrets, and had gotten them wiped out. It was a strange feeling.. It was like she had passed out, floating freely in an endless, grey, void for what had felt like an eternity. It was like she was a prisoner in her own body, watching helplessly as something committed horrendous acts using her name and face. It wasn’t until this final act that she had suddenly found herself facing a half-burnt village, with the tribe’s elder exiling Fierra out into the Forest.

That had been the second worst day of her life, and for the longest time, Fierra hadn’t any clue as to what had happened. Of course, she was completely aware now, but for close to half a decade? She lived in constant fear, unknowing of when she would lose control of her being again, and tragedy would be left in her wake. It had been a life-changing day, learning about the spirit that had made Fierra’s body its home and it was due to the style of ritual Fierra had used which had caused it to have permanently fused with her,

She hadn’t asked for this… A life where she was constantly on the run, a life where she wasn’t able to find a home. A life where she had to worry about what the next corner could yield. She despised it! She was supposed to have had a fulfilling life… She was her clan’s Flame-Touched, a special being who was to lead their clan into a new age, with a clear understanding of how the rest of their life was to play out. She was to have been treated like royalty! She had played out so many scenarios in her head when she was younger and didn’t have the patience to wait for them.

And now here she was.. A fugitive who had found herself in, yet another, life or death situation. She looks up as her opponent leaps towards her, reading herself for another escape attempt, when it was suddenly pulled into the river with a loud curse. Her body tensed some, Fierra having to stop herself from simply dashing forwards to try and help this creature.. Here it was, attempting to rip her apart, and she was having to forcibly hold herself in place? She cursed at herself under breath, attempting to help this thing would, definitely, result in her death.

Fierra watched on with a sickened curiosity as her opponent began to tear at their armour, ripping almost flesh-like pieces off with maddened screams. A small gasp escaped Fierra as she continued to watch, finding herself unable to look away from the horrifying event occurring before her. Something here was wrong, horribly wrong. Fierra moves one foot forward before mentally cursing at herself once again, mustering up what willpower she had to keep herself rooted in place. She hadn’t felt this conflicted in a long time. She could offer a hand, try and find out what, exactly she had been facing. Try to find a cure for what, clearly, was a sickness.

But she couldn’t, could she? Fierra was proud of her medicinal capabilities, boastful even. But this wasn’t something she could try and cure, this corruption seemed to have dug deep into this warrior’s heart and had taken root there. Nothing she had would even scratch what was affecting her opponent.

Watching on in a mix of absolute horror, and shock, Fierra felt her arm slowly drop down out of its combat stance, the Monk appearing to be stuck in a sort-of trance, right up until she catches a glimpse of what was underneath that sickening armour. It… No, she was human. Human, but twisted. What darkness could have caused something as drastic as this? Fierra was only used to the odd darkspawn, nothing she couldn’t handle. But this? THIS was human underneath!?

Still, the Monk remained silent as the once proud Knight writhed in torment, frantically tearing at that dark flesh with all of her might, only for it to be replaced mere moments later. Internally, she was rooting for this warrior, that she might, somehow, overcome this overwhelming darkness that seemed to have wormed its way into her heart. She didn’t have any want to be a part of this battle in the first place, she had simply wandered into the wrong place at the right time, and she would be eternally grateful when it had finished.

As that same darkness, finally, overwhelmed the Knight, Fierra finds her hand drifting down to one of the spheres at her side, grasping it tightly. Its inner warmth helped calm the Monk in highly stressful situations, and she’d consider this one to be that very thing. Watching that bright blue eye, once full of hope and dreams, return to that blazing, hateful Orange that had locked eyes with her from the beginning was the final straw. Something had to be done about this.

This was too much.

“Don’t think…”

She couldn’t take this.

“That just because you saw beneath the veil, little wretch-”

This was appalling.

“That it will keep me from…”

Softly, Fierra nodded a confirmation to something.

“What is mine.”

Fierra’s hand, finally, moves away from her upper thigh, revealing the wound had become nothing more than scar tissue. Her opponents’ blunder, and subsequent breakdown, had rewarded Fierra with more than enough time to, properly, seal her wound. Unexpectedly, Fierra’s hand slowly crawls over to the handle of the blade at her side, gripping it with a ferocity unseen from the woman previously. Slowly, and carefully, she begins to draw the blade at her side and a sudden chill breeze sweeps through in the gap between the pair. The Flamed one had finally allowed her to be released from her mental prison. The Flamed one would not regret this decision.

Piece by piece, Fierra’s clothes began to change. First, the beautiful golden threads that were spread across her robes were drained of their colour, leaving them a dull grey. Then, the robes themselves transitioned from their captivating, ruby red, to a melancholic, almost saddening ice blue. These changes slowly enveloped Fierra’s entire body, every blazing strand of red was snuffed out, each glorious golden glint was replaced, akin to a wealthy King suddenly losing his fortune.

Remaining silent, ‘Fierra’ brought her sword up to mimic her opponent’s stance. Her once fearful, and still very human expression was now unflinching, cold, and inhumane. Gone was her compassion, and willingness to co-operate to find a peaceful solution. Two sets of blazing eyes were focused on one another, and the warrior that now stood before Aleisha gripped their blade tightly.

If she wanted the soul of the Flamed one.

She’d have to get in line.
AQ DF AQW Epic  Post #: 39
2/15/2020 22:24:46   
nield
Creative!


 Stab-stab

The girl- no, she had a name now. Her ear flicked in distaste and she decided she would simply shorten the name to ‘Leaf’. Leaf thrust her rod into the ground and a wall raised between them. She could have gone over it or around it, but she had no need to dodge a stationary wall. Besides, it was only dirt.

Her claws tore through the wall with ease, sending dirt flying as she burst through. Her target was unperturbed, for once, sending her minion flying at her. It wasn’t spiked however. Maybe she couldn’t change its form on a whim? She ducked its assault, moving towards Leaf as she did. It had become spiked after she hit it away. Maybe it wasn’t being attacked, but contact with herself that had caused the change.

Stab-stab

As she neared, Leaf thrust her rod at her. Tired of dealing with her earth manipulation, she grabbed the offending object. The two fought for control briefly, but the elf was not so physically capable as she was and she was able to tear it from her grasp. She spun, her tail twirling around one of the girl’s legs as she did so and then, at once, she swung the rod as though it were a bat at her minion, coming around for another pass, as she yanked, pulling Leaf’s leg out from under her.

Her target seemed to have become a more tenacious fighter now that she was no longer fighting for her life. She felt Leaf’s fingers digging into her tail, as the minion, which had barely missed her, swerved, smacking into the middle of her held-taut tail. The thing sat for a brief moment, before it burst out spikes again. Due to its proximity, spikes pierced into her tail and she stumbled forward, crying out.

Stab-stab

She could feel the fire bleeding out of what was now the end of her tail as she turned to face her target. She was already sending her minion against her again, having discarded the length of tail onto the ground, where it combusted. She let the spiked thing come close, before bending backwards and touching her hands to the ground, the minion sailing over her.

She snapped back to standing pose, dropped Leaf’s rod on the ground and ran at her and leapt, intending to tackle her to the ground.
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 40
2/16/2020 0:03:41   
  Starflame13
Moderator


 A last, valiant battlecry rang out, the exultation and anguish of countless soldiers condensed into a single voice. All at once the picturesque glen was swept up in nature’s fury; the combatants powerless in the face of howling winds and churning waters. Even the stars above began to fall, their brilliance turning to blackness that swallowed the dawn light whole.

The sounds of carnage faded and the rivers stilled, their golden glow casting a faint luminescence across the scene. The remaining sparks twisted and arranged themselves into gateways, opening to reveal the Chequered City. A safe passage home for the few fighters that remained.

The Powers had chosen. The War had begun.
AQ DF MQ AQW  Post #: 41
4/8/2020 5:49:30   
nield
Creative!


 Stab-stab

Finally, she had her. Her claws grasped around the Elf’s arms, pinned to the ground. Not two minutes ago she would have taken such an opportunity to tear the girl’s throat out with her teeth, but now… she paused. She didn’t know what to actually do.
The world took the decision out of her hands.


Stab-stab

A great upheaval, a crashing noise and heavy winds picked her up and sent her flying for the first time in years. Once nature’s sudden fury calmed, she looked around. Leaf had vanished, as had some of the others who had been arrayed around this field of battle. Before her was a door in the skin of the world, leading back into that city of white and black. With no reason to stay, she walked through.

Stab-stab

There then was another portal, waiting for her. Beyond it she saw the deep, primordial place of the Ashtyellar Forests, from where she had entered this realm.
But she had no reason to return there.

That girl had captured her curiosity. She was interested in learning more about her and seeing the world she had come from. She looked around and there, high in the sky there was an… image, of forces arrayed on a field of white and black. She saw Leaf among them.

Stab-stab

A prickling feeling and she glanced over her shoulder. That portal home was there, closer than it had been before. All around, the things that existed within this realm had their eyes on her. No longer had they his image, but now they bore either Leaf’s, or her own lively visage. “It seems I am no longer welcome here.” The things rushed her and she gritted her teeth. I want to see what happens to that girl…


How long had passed, she did not know, but suddenly, the things ceased their assault. She had snatched peeks at the image in the sky at every chance she could, and she turned up and looked now and-
paid witness to the end of Leaf Which Floats on Raging Currents.


STAB-STAB

She closed her eyes briefly, then glanced over her shoulder. Continually dogging her, the portal to back to Eronia was closer now than it had ever been before. She looked around, at the army of hers and Leafs, which were no longer forcing her removal. “You know, don’t you? For as little reason as I have to return there, I now have none to remain here. Thus, I am gone.” She turned on her heel and stepped through the skein in the world.

STAB-STAB

She sighed as familiar smells assaulted her senses, here amongst the most ancient roots of the towering Yggdrasil above, the distant sounds of the Aofeyfetarl that made its branches their home, and then a snapping of twigs. She turned to face whatever had made the noises, and saw a Niqxzlqotl kitten stride forth. She recognised it immediately.
It was The Old One.


Her breath caught in her throat. Such a sign… Peace was finally to be hers. She saw him cock his head slightly, then close his eyes as if in pain. “I feel I must apologise. How many times have you seen this sight? And I will perpetrate it before your eyes once again, but I…” he opened his eyes again, making direct contact with hers. An understanding between them. He’d seen it all before. He’d likely see it again. And he’d do what he’d always done.

Somehow, tears sprung from her eyes. “Strange things happen at this point, do they not? The pain is too much.

I… almost thought there may have been something new. A way out. A way forward.

But it was not to be.

Thank you, Old One. Please, look after them.”



He watched her, draw her claws across in one swift action, then immediately staggered down to her knees. She gasped and choked, struggling for air she could no longer attain. Her body could no longer maintain its humanised form and returned to the form of a big cat. Her wings blossomed fully into life and then expanded. She howled, and burst full into flames, a massive conflagration.

The fires of her life burned fierce but brief and soon there was naught left but a pile of ash, within which was an egg. Her offspring, born of her fires. He stalked forward, aging as he did, soon he himself full-sized. He delicately wound his tail around the egg and lifted it. He would see this young one born and into their life.

He had done so for all the broken before Jicella Ariella and he would continue to do so for all the broken yet to come.
AQ DF MQ AQW Epic  Post #: 42
Page:   <<   < prev  1 [2]
All Forums >> [Gaming Community] >> [Role Playing] >> The Championships >> RE: =WPC 2020= Hallowed Battlefield
Page 2 of 2<12
Jump to:






Icon Legend
New Messages No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages Locked w/o New Messages
 Post New Thread
 Reply to Message
 Post New Poll
 Submit Vote
 Delete My Own Post
 Delete My Own Thread
 Rate Posts




Forum Content Copyright © 2018 Artix Entertainment, LLC.

"AdventureQuest", "DragonFable", "MechQuest", "EpicDuel", "BattleOn.com", "AdventureQuest Worlds", "Artix Entertainment"
and all game character names are either trademarks or registered trademarks of Artix Entertainment, LLC. All rights are reserved.
PRIVACY POLICY


Forum Software © ASPPlayground.NET Advanced Edition