Hellifyno

The Tomb of Ar’Elis – High King of Hellifyno

This topic has 21 replies, 1 voice, and was last updated 5 days, 1 hour ago by Joseph Gambit.

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    • #41416
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      Posted by Narrator on February 20, 2011 at 11:30am in Hellifyno (IC Roleplaying) (Change)Send Message View Discussions
      The Weaver has been sending her Droned creations to every corner of the Universe in search of artifacts and information, relics of power, arcane lore, and forgotten weapons, in the hopes that they may find something which she can use against the Chaos Wyrm.

      One such Drone, an Elven Elder schooled in the art of secrets, stumbled upon a passage in an ancient book which he believed was a vital clue to finding the resting place of King Ar’Elis, the ancient lord of the Hellifyno Empire. Moving swiftly through the dangerous wasteland that has overtaken the planet, the Weaver Droned Elven Elder located a passageway hidden by stone and magic, landscape and illusion. This led down into a dark tunnel, which opened up into a massive stone chamber, far beneath the earth.

      Within this chamber stood enormous granite spires, polished smooth, running from ceiling to floor. There was also a building crafted of pure white, made of sloping domes and trailing curves, which stood out in stark contrast to the dark earth surrounding it. The architecture was indicative of that commonly found in the 10 million year old lost Empire.

      This information was transmitted to the Weaver Hive Mind in real time, with the images that her Drone saw being watched by millions of his brethren, tied into this vital information network. They saw him look upon the beauty of the sloping marble building, they saw him stare with wonder at what he believed was the tomb of the Ancient King, and then they felt him die, quite suddenly, and without explanation.

      Lord Executive Tye Sampson has made an official appeal for a quest. He requires a team of 3-5 Heroes to infiltrate the ancient tomb, and recover whatever artifacts, weapons, and scholarly information they can, and then deliver it to the Castle at Consequence. The reward for successful completion of the quest will be 10,000 Gold Pieces, as well as any non weaponry or scholarly based treasures found within the tomb.

      (If your interested in playing, post a response to this either IC or OOC. I am looking for at least 3-5 people before I get the actual game rolling. Once started I will try to post replies once or twice a day depending on my schedule. )

    • #41417
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 22, 2011 at 6:16pm
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      *Laryka looked over the missive with careful scrutiny. It has been far too long since she has practiced her skills of infiltration and plundering of unknown goods found in a mysterious location. Immediately she sent notice to Lord Executive Tye Sampson regarding her interest in participation.*

      Lord Tye –

      Iffen ya should need one with me skills for the Tomb of Ar’Elis, ya should know where to find me.

      L

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      Permalink Reply by ?????- ?????? ?? on February 22, 2011 at 8:38pm
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      “I’m down.” – D +Deon wrote, sending it off.+
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      Permalink Reply by Crystal J. La’mort on February 22, 2011 at 8:40pm
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      “I’ll be happy to be one of the people in the team to go to the Tomb of Ar’Elis. You can find me either at the Tavern, or at the Church of Puck behind it.

      Forever a Fighter,

      Crystal.”

      *I leave the note next to Lark’s and walk off*

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      CELESTIALPermalink Reply by Blaze on February 22, 2011 at 8:40pm
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      First Lieutenant Krimson at your service. =He bowed his neck as his hair was sent back into the usual battle braid down to his waist whilst his armor listened already.

      (Need more info on how it works though.)

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 22, 2011 at 8:47pm
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      |Chitose stood there reading the mission as he sent off a letter to Tye “The name is Chitose, I will be at your service for such a mission.”|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on February 23, 2011 at 2:33pm
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      (Thank you all for participating. We will run this mission the same way we do chat missions. I will lead the story and create NPC’s to interact with, and you can all react to each scenario as you see fit. I will be replying on a daily, and sometimes multiple daily basis so you may want to sign up to receive updates via email. Just like on the chat missions if someone has to drop out for a while they will either be assumed as following the group, NPC’d if necessary, or portalled back to the castle. If new people wish to join in they can also use the “portal” loophole to join in at any time. If anyone has any questions please message them to me directly so that we don’t take up forum space with OOC talk.)
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on February 23, 2011 at 3:25pm
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      Each of the Heroes has been contacted covertly. While the mission itself is publicly known, the date and time of its beginning is being kept secret, lest the Chaos Wyrm send agents to follow the party to the tomb in order to steal its treasures for their dark master. Each of you is approached quietly, by a different agent of the government. They come to you when you are alone, and speak in hushed tones. They answer no questions, and they leave immediately once the message is delivered.

      The mission is set for a moonless night, an evening where the dark will mask your travels through the wilderness beyond the Weaver walls. Each of you gathers, one at a time, in a deserted alley set in a random corner of the city. You are shadows to one another, silhouettes set amidst the inky midnight. It is quiet, Consequence slumbers as you wait.

      A man appears, wearing robes of such pure white, with skin of such pale radiance, that he seems to be glowing against the darkness of the night. He glows, all except for his eyes, which are two pitch black coals set into his face. They contrast sharply with the brilliance of his illuminated countenance.

      As he approaches, you can feel power emanating from him, causing the very air to waver at its presence. As he speaks, the voice is hollow, as if being spoken from a thousand miles away.

      “I am Kraelvek, Drone of the Holy Mother Spider, Slave of Ghaxxtick the Abomination, and Royal Retainer of the Lord Executive Tye Sampson. I am your liaison for this quest.”

      As he speaks, dark shapes move amongst you. Short, and hobbled, but humanoid in appearance, their shadowed faces are hidden by the darkness of the night. They approach each of you, handing you small leather satchels.

      Within the satchels there is food, basic medical supplies, small light sticks, and a map which will lead you to the tomb. The map glows with a magical light that allows you to see its contents, without casting any illumination beyond its surface.

      “Ar’Elis was the last king of the great Empire of Hellifyno. Ten million years past, this planet was the center of a vast realm, controlled by a series of immortal kings. Each king grew in power beyond that of his predecessor. However each king also succumbed to that power, eventually dying by force of darkness, rival, or both.”

      As he speaks these words the hollow sound of his voice takes on an almost human quality, a faint whisper of regret, of sorrow, tingeing the emptiness of his words. But as he goes on, this trace of emotion is quickly swallowed by the haunting darkness that lurks within.

      “The legends speak of Ar’Elis as a being of unimaginable power. Hew as able to destroy whole planets with a single, terrible word. He could create civilizations at will, and then cause them to fall into depravity and decay with nothing more than the force of his will. “

      “Not much is known of his death. The power that finally caused this immortal king to fall was so devastating that it plunged the galaxy into one hundred years of darkness. War emerged from that darkness, wars so violent and bitter that they shattered the empire forever, destroying any remnant of its former glory. “

      “The body of the king was lost to the cataclysm and yet, there have always been rumors, rumors whispered, that those closest to him bore his frame to a secret underground location. A place buried so deep beneath the earth that even the greatest of diviners could not find it. It is said that his tomb is guarded by wards so powerful that no wizard could ever detect them. It is said that there is a great evil which still lives, guarding the body of the great king for all eternity.”

      ”Of course all of this, is merely legend, rumor, and contention…”

      Kraelvek looks at each of you with coal black eyes set in a perfect, glowing white face. His gaze, though seemingly sightless, still feels like a judgment, as if he is weighing the worth of each of your souls.

      “You must go swiftly and quietly. Do not risk alerting the servants of the Chaos Wyrm. He cannot be allowed to have the power which may lie within that tomb. You may take this door, but when you return it will not be there.”

      As he speaks, the end of the alleyway, cloaked in darkness, seems to shift and morph. A moment later there is a gap, which slowly rips through the perfect white of the Weaver wall strands, revealing the twisted desolation of the wasteland beyond.

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 23, 2011 at 4:19pm
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      |Chitose stares at the male that approaches him. His pupils shrink as to allow more sight to the male as his own eyes lock onto the dark coal-like eyes that he male has. He was slightly interested in such a male that could contrast such features with that of a glowing light. His ears perk up as he listens to what the male has to say. He was about to ask the male his name when He spoke Claiming it was Kraelvek. Chitose took the satchel that the servants had given him even though his optics were locked onto those of the male that was speaking to him. His own keen hearing picks up the sounds of regret in his voice as he smiles, but at the mention of wizards and wards he frowned thinking of ways already to get past each ward though he knew it was going to be near impossible to detect them. Speaking to the male before he left he said “Thank you very much for trusting me to follow with such a dangerous mission ” He was not a fan of traveling by portals but he had to take it to help the planet out. With slow unsure footsteps that soon grew to confidence he walked to the portal that led to the outword. he took a deep breathe as he stepped through the said portal without a second thought|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 23, 2011 at 6:13pm
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      *Laryka listened with interest to the tale uttered by Kraelvek’s tongue, rich in history, deep in lore…captivating as these bits of facts and gossip came together to form a shoud of mystery both of this lost King and his treasure trove of the unknown. She seemed to memorize each word as it was spoken, the way it was spoken and how the fella’s voice inflected on key words. Regardless of the others cloaked in shadows, she knew it best to only trust oneself in times like this. A quick mental note was made of her current inventory in addition to what was given by Kraelvek. Subtly she patted herself down counting two boot knives, pocket knife, three throwing blades, lock picking tools, flint, tinder, waterskin, flask of scotch, vial of oil, vial of acid, tiny container of ground black pepper, an extra shirt of silk, leather tethers, her holstered XDM with two full clips, compass, bar of soap, wire brush, one ring of heat protection, cloak of thieves, deck of cards, two 6-sided die, two weighted 6-sided die (replicas of the others), ledger book, ink pen, twine, one fish hook, two darts dipped in scorpion’s venom, sharpening stone, her own medical supplies including salve, bandaging, gauze, scapel, needle and thread. At the moment she refocused her thoughts on the fella before her still prattling on about history but nothing current but the map he gave. At first chance she would look it over thoroughly. Finally with feeling as if being dismissed, she looked into the tear of reality that once she stepped through displaced her into the unknown vast landscapes of the harsh surrounds of the wastelands.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on February 24, 2011 at 1:09pm
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      As Dimitri’s shadows trace down along the darkened forms of the midnight creatures that move amongst you, he can feel a dark and terrifying presence. These are not ordinary shadows, these are not ordinary beings. A chill runs up his spine as his own dark force is snapped back in his face. A moment later he recovers, his shadows alighting now upon the others in the group, casting them in darkness that does not obscure their vision of the world… only of one another.

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on February 24, 2011 at 1:10pm
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      Stepping through the tear in the web of reality, you emerge in a world of thorns and darkness. Only the keenest of preternatural eyes can penetrate the moonless night, but when light and sight do prevail, they are met with a world of twisted violence, a landscape of scars and dangers, of strangling vines, of snapping branches, of creeping creatures and lurking dangers.

      You hear screeching in the distance. You hear roaring. You hear howling. All around you there is death, lurking beyond the twisted walls of the tangled chaos of this Wyrm tainted world.

      A glance at the map reveals that the portal left you three miles east of the tomb. As you glance around, you’ll notice that there are no landmarks, no stars on this ink sky night, no familiar features on this recently blighted world. You will have to navigate without aid.

      There are no roads here. No paths and no trails. There is only the tangled skein of thorns that twists and shifts, and often slaps at your skin as you press through its chaos.

      As you walk, your feet sink into the mud, sloshing into the stained and moldy earth. Amidst the muck there are stones, sharp, round, stones that tear, and stones that trip.

      With every movement you can feel them crawling on you. The unnatural vermin of this world. Creatures slithering past your armor, through your clothing. Tiny red dot flees that form random clouds of stinging burst pain in the wild.

      And always through the twisting of the vine walls, always, you see movement. There are creatures out there. Hidden in the darkness of this ink stained night they are seen only as the silhouettes of shadows. The ghost of an afterimage, shooting back into obscurity before their forms can be measured. They are hidden.

      Yet so are you. As the darkness and the chaos hides their movements, it also hides yours. Aided by Dimitri’s shadows, you travel unseen, hidden from the eyes of the servants of the chaos Wyrm, who surround you by the millions on this, his planetary stronghold.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 24, 2011 at 6:14pm
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      *As listed as one of her inventory items, she withdraws her compass and in using the faint glow of the map she attempts to determine their location on the map. Then muses aloud and points in the direction they should start walking.*

      “Three miles east of the Tomb.”

      *The small party begins their travel. Lark’s eyes need time to adjust to the overwhelming darkness. Each bootfall could end in ruin amongst the rock and skittering critters of the hellish wasteland. She glances to her companions, not sure of their capabilities or if they have even pegged her identity yet. She had not activated her thieve’s cloak, the hood draped carelessly around her shoulders. Her hair was tucked tightly into a sloppy bun to help keep the hair from her line of vision. Dimitri’s inquiry broke the silence that was thickly enveloped around them amongst the noises of the night…the howls, the screams and the scampering of hellish vermin.*

      “Iffen ya did nah know before, then call me Lark.”

      *She quietly voiced back to her companions. Her posture completely business-like, not feeling at ease in the least bit with their surrounds. Another step in the direction of the tomb and her footing almost failed as her heel caught on a jagged rock. She wobbled momentarily before catching her balance and continuing on after tucking her compass away in her satchel of many pockets.*

    • #41418
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      Reply by Laryka Dior on February 24, 2011 at 6:43pm
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      “So ya’v choosen to call me by me proper name o’ Laryka…instead o’ Lark. Hmm, interesting. As far as seein’ goes, me thinks I can make do.”

      *She was not going to verbally announce a weakness to accompany her missed footing of a few minutes ago. The smallish woman always felt she had more to prove living in a world of powerful beings that use majik as a plaything. Her eyes found an vague outline of another following with them and assumed it was Chitose, as she recognized his voice before they portaled to the middle of the wastelands.*

      “If tis any consolation to havin’ me presence here….me thinks with confidence I be leadin’ us in the correct direction o’ the Tomb.”

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 24, 2011 at 7:07pm
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      |Chitose’s eyes were the said eyes simply due to his neko and vampire counter parts. His pupils dialted allowing more of the hardly existant light to come into his own pupils. He did not make a sound as his sight was met with the twisted lands with the vines. Spotting a crouching creature far in the distance did not boost his moral much. Infact it scared him even more. The neko’s ears flatten against his skull as he hears the screaming and howling. It kind of reminded him of a kennel on the planet earth except…with demons. His once proud polished combat boots are now cacked in mud from the travels through the swampy like terrain. He stumbles over a stone catching himself barely by lifting his tail up counter-balancing the gravity on this planet causing him to stand upright. He bites his lower lip as he feels the thing crawling on him but he dare not use powers to execute them and shoo them away from him. He makes a soft yelp in pain that is stiffled by the back of his hand as he felt the fire dots sting his skin. His keen Neko eyes pick up movements as his right hand moves subconciously toards the hilt of his katana ready to unsheathe and kill at any moment. He was silently grateful for the power of Dimitri as he glances over at Dimitri and Laryka who are conversing as he speaks out to make sure that it is truely the two people that joined| Dimitri, Laryka? Is that you guys?
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 24, 2011 at 7:13pm
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      “Nah o’ ones here but us chickens….” *She gave a comical reply to Chitose as he clumsily arrived behind them. She sized up the two fellas, yes even in the dark. There was only a soft sigh of regret as she knew quiet well that the one thing they are missing is a tank.*
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 24, 2011 at 9:51pm
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      *The inky darkness of Dimitri’s shadow covered her face, she blinked several times as such was unexpected but remaining calm it took only a moment for her to realize the significance. Her sight had cleared and she was able to step over the rough turf with more ease now. Each step although slower than that of Dimitri’s shadowy glide and Chitose’s feline grace she was able to keep pace without tripping up on the land in waste. She assumed the three miles would be covered could take about an hour and a half to two hours. She still thought over both her companions, wishen someone with brute strength would have been amongst them….as it seemed none of the three were deft enough to handle too many hostiles at once.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 25, 2011 at 12:24am
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      |Chitose’s voice is very quiet as he speaks to the company that is with him| Hey, So we got a researcher, a healer, and a fighter….were the bloody hell is our tank? I need someone to get the shit kicked outta them while I beat them down with slashes with my sword. | Stepping carefully on the rocks as not to twist an ankle. His wings were folded against his back as they were blood red but they did infact blend in with the dark as he felt eyes upon him. He let out a soft sigh knowing they were thinking of his usefullness and he was going to show it on this mission with his skills with a katana and speed. His electric blue hue in his eyes disappeared as they were replaced by all white. He was now able to see in the dark as he glanced seeing it was Only Lark and Dimitri that were with him. He passed Dimitri with ease as he was hopping from one rock to the other. Not in a bunny like motion but like a jogg. He caught up with Lark as he leaned in close whispering to the female| Lark…I feel doubt about you…If we find hostiles. Dimitri and I shall quickly Dispatch of them. I mean no offense to you of course. |Chitose patted the hilt of his katana|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on February 25, 2011 at 12:29am
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      As the heroes speak their quiet words of acquaintance and greeting, more of the shifting silhouettes begin to flash past the tangled skein of thorns and barbs. Every word brings attention in this land of predators and beasts, unwanted attention, attention that can bring the eye of the Chaos Wyrm and his minions down on them.

      As Laryka stumbles, the sound of splash and skittering stone makes the creatures in the night grow bold. One, a large and lanky beast, crouched and pulsing with pale green skin, approaches so close that Chitose clearly sees him through the darkness. The being hisses quietly, and then melts back into the cloaked protection of the night.

      As you move through the wasteland, the twisted plants, the mud soaked earth, the insects, everything around you seems to reach out to try and swipe you from your path. Dimitri moves with his shadow, slipping through this gauntlet of pain like a whisper, avoiding many of the vines and branches, but still plagued by the hordes of vermin that seem to slip through his inky shadow shields, finding the cracks and crevices in his defense, burrowing into his clothing.

      Chitose too, gifted with feline grace and preternatural abilities is able to make his way fluidly through the chaotic wasteland, although occasional thorned vines do snap out unexpectedly, lashing at his arms, slapping at his eyes. And of course, the vermin are everywhere, a constant plague on the surface of this diseased and tainted world.

      However Laryka, despite the gift of shadowed site, is merely a human, and the whole of Hellifyno seems to be taking advantage of it. Though she is skilled and very clever, her every step is plagued by stones hidden beneath the muddy wash that is the earth. Branches slap out like stinging horse whips to lash at face and limbs. Thorned vines seem to twist insidiously around her ankles, to curl unexpectedly around her neck. Then of course, there are the vermin. Delighting in the taste of living mortal flesh they hungrily swarm her, with a small but steady cloud of tiny snapping flies hovering around her as she makes her way forward.

      Every stumble, every splash, every rustling of vine and branch, every quiet whispered word, brings the attention of the creatures beyond. Still hidden in shadow, you can see the silhouettes coming closer now, appearing more often behind the veil of vegetation, darting closer to your party, before retreating into obscurity.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 25, 2011 at 6:19pm
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      *Aggravated silence stole over her as yet again she was called a healer by one that finds it necessarily to underestimate her…and further misclassify her. Even with pride in abundance, she knew the definition of descretion even more clearly. She bit down hard on her tongue to keep from correcting Chitose’s miscalculations of her and figured eventually such could probably used in her advantage. Then Chitose would approach her with whispered promises of dispatching of any hostiles with the assistance of Dimitri. She gave only a subtle nod in response knowing all too well her own skills, limits and boundaries. Too soon it seems she was estimated as being the weak link amongst the three and decided to play upon these estimations further….The trek was indeed terrible, and although she wore reinforced leather as her armor, whatever flesh was displayed was ravaged by the pestulant winged bugs. Branches, vines and thorns attempted to thwart each forward movement as the stones underneath the muck threatened to send her on her arse. Opportunity presented itself quite amply as Dimitri stopped the forward progress with gestures to carry Laryka upon his back. Going against her own ego, she fell in line with the judgments of both of them and accepted with little reservation the ride of a lifetime upon the back of that man of shadowed dimensions. She saw this as a benefit to preserve her strength and wit, also to allow herself to be underestimated as works so well with her true avocation. Gently she climbed upon the back offered her, her grip was careful not to strangle Dimitri as they began to move on. Lithe and athletic in build, the smallish woman could hardly be a burden to such a powerful man….she grinned to herself as that thought played out in her mind.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on February 25, 2011 at 7:12pm
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      They slip swiftly through the night. With Laryka now perched atop Dimitri’s back they fly faster, less hindered by the dangers of the landscape, dark waves of shadowed power pushing perils back. And all the while Chitose leaps and bounds from perch to rock with feline grace about them. Soon the shadowed silhouettes that were tracking your every pace fall back, receding into the darkness, left behind by the rapid pace of your movements.

      And then suddenly the earth grows solid. The mud and rocks are gone replaced instead by hard packed dirt, a mottled gray outcropping that rises upwards, up past the twisted brambles, the piercing vines, and thorn tipped branches, up over the landscape, freeing you from the tangled skein. As you ascend the sharply sloping hilltop you look out over the horror that is your world.

      Though it is dark you can see now the tops of the maze like over growth of wretch and violence that has claimed Hellifyno. In every direction there is nothing but spikes and pikes, lakes of black bubbling tar, floating clouds of gas, swarms of red dot insects in the air, and the occasional burst of fire, plumes of amber violence surging into the sky to light the night in random spots before dying away in darkness.

      The moment is shattered by the crashing and quaking of the ground beneath you. The world trembles violently, the hilltop you have crested quivering rapidly beneath your feet, and then rising up, sending you soaring into the air. There is a roar, a great calamitous cacophony of aggression that shatters the air coming from beneath you and then, explosions of dust and earth that erupt from the ground to either side.

      You can see great gray stone hands emerge from the exploding dust of the earth. A moment later there are enormous legs which appear amidst the darkness and the clouds. A face can just barely be made out beneath the crest of the hilltop you stood upon.

      This was no natural feature of Hellifyno. The hill was the sloping head of an enormous creature, a giant figure that now stands towering over the landscape. His gray stone limbs stretch out languidly, another shattering roar issuing from his jagged spire lined maw.

      All around you, you see creatures of night and shadow burst out of places of concealment, shooting through the tangled twist of vines and branches to escape from this enormous menace.

      However with lightning quick reflexes, unexpected in a beast of such enormous size, it shoots a long and powerful thrusting arm downward, into the mess of tangles and brush.

      There is an ear piercing screech, a scream of pure terror that erupts from where the hand crashed down. Then, eerie silence. The giant stony arm retracts, a thing up bulges and tentacles, a green and purple striped creature with two long curved horns rests in the giant rock mans grasp. With a swift and easy motion, the giant tosses his shattered prey into its spire lined maw, and begins chewing ravenously, his sharp stone teeth crunching the bones of his victim noisily.

      He does not, at this moment, appear to notice the Heroes that were tiptoeing unaware across his head.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 25, 2011 at 9:24pm
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      *She hadn’t even had much of a chance to hold out the map for Dimitri as they traversed further, the ground beneath them seemed to change without warning and soon it seemed they were climbing, rising higher to see across the ruined landscapes. The ground they paused upon no longer appeared to be ground but a hellspawned beast of giangantic proportions. One hand left its grip from Dimitri’s shoulder, she bit down on her first finger to keep from verbally reacting to the scene they witnessed and to the situation they now faced being atop this beast’s stone gray head that was currently feasting on yet another being of questionable creation. Even some of the greatest warriors she personally knew would have difficulty slaying this beast they were perched upon. Her eyes were wide open with fear, darting about looking for the least risky evacuation point. *
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 26, 2011 at 12:26am
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      |Chitose kept up behind the group as his eyes were locked onto the male as he leapt from rock to rock. His wings were kept to his back as he did not want to fly just yet. His feet slam into the solid ground as he sprints to keep uop. Chitose felt the thorns rip onto his skin as he grunted trying not to scream out in pain. Deciding it was dangerous to keep running he leapt to the air his wings snapping open catching himself as he took flight. The ground is shook violently just as he took off into the air. He spots the graeat stone hands as he grunts spiraling away from the creature. “What the fuck is that?! ” He snarled lowly as he spotted the creature comming from earth. Catching glimps of the creature’s huge hand slam into the ground his wings tucked into his back as he sped off like a bullet towards Dimitri and Laryka. He was aiming straight for Laryka attempting to pluck her from Dimitri and take her to safety away from the large dangerous creature. He spoke to Dimitri in a low tone| Corrode that giant creature. Hit him where it hurts!
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 26, 2011 at 12:35am
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      *With Dimitri’s sacrificial distraction and Chitose swooping in and grabbing up Lark retreating to the air. It seemed like a perfectly executed non-planned procedure. Her mouth had snapped shut, she uttered no sound to bring attention to herself and Chitose. Yet her eyes were glued on Dimitri….not worried for him but curious of his next move.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 26, 2011 at 5:26pm
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      |Chitose with Laryka in his arms spun around in mid-flight his grip is tight around Laryka’s body as he holds her in a bridal style as he feintly smelled of Irish springs. His pure white optics were locked onto Dimitri as he was waiting to see what the male would do to such a large Creature as he whispered quietly to Lark| “I sense tension….I am sorry if My words of Calling you a ..healer offended you. Perhaps we should call you a rogue?”

    • #41419
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 26, 2011 at 6:06pm
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      |Chitose watched the effects of the said shadow attack as he smirked. He liked to see powers in effect knowing deep down inside that such an attack would fail upon him due to the light in his soul but this was not the problem at hand. It was the beasts. He watched smiling closely as he was observing but still aware for anything that would swoop down and be flying straight towards Laryka and himself|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on February 26, 2011 at 8:58pm
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      The moment that Dimitri’s shouted taunts hit the air the massive stone creature reacts. An enormous fist shoots downward towards him. Moving with incredible speed and force it shatters his shooting shadows as if they were wisps of smoke, the curled mallet barreling directly towards the form of Dimitri and Laryka below.

      At the last moment, Chitose swoops in, so close that he can feel the gush of air before the stony punch, he sweeps Laryka up in his arms and darts forward, past the mighty blow, leaving the powerful fist to slam into Dimitri, embedding him in the mud and rock of the earth below.

      Without even a moment of hesitation, the fist retracts and slams down again, and again, and again, causing a great crater to open up, mud and earth spittle splashing in the air even as Dimitri cloaks himself in shadows and slips past the punishing onslaught.

      Then, as his broken body tries to heal, Dimitri sends his shadows slipping forward, sliding past the cracks and crevices in the massive beast’s body. He begins to expand them, using the full intensity of his might to try and shatter the joints of this rocky menace. And it does work to some extent; in the darkness you can see small spurts of dust poof from the cracks and connections in the beasts’ body.

      However this is a truly massive creature and the process feels like trying to file down a mountain with a hand chisel. Rather than roaring in pain, the monstrous being gets what can only be described as a look of irritation on its face. In a moment, it begins to scratch at its body with thick stone fingers.

      A howl, like the sound of a mountain range whining, issues from the creatures mouth. It sweeps its hand down again, grabbing a twisted thorn tree from the ground, wrenching it up so that the dirt splattered roots are still hanging from its base. Then, the large twisted tree looking like a twig in the stone giants hands, the creature begins to use its thorn covered bows as a backscratcher, all across its body.

      Howls and moans issue from the creatures mouth as it scratches vigorously. Then in a roar of frustration it hurtles the large tree into the air, the great trunk randomly shooting out towards where Chitose and Laryka hover behind him.

      A violent roar shatters the night, causing the ground to tremble and trees to fall. Then the stone giant begins to swing his head back and forth, looking for something new to take its terrifying aggressions out on.

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 27, 2011 at 12:00pm
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      |Chitose’s body tensed as he watched the creature onslaught on Dimitri’s body. He was going to get into the fight but he was holding Laryka. As he spotted the tree flying straight for Laryka and him. He decided to act. He swooped down barely missing the tree as his wings tucked around Laryka and Himself protecting him from other debri as he barreled towards the ground. At the last moment he snapped his wings open catching air. He hovered over the ground momentarily then flew straight up into the sky to get away from the creature if it decided to attack once more.|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on February 28, 2011 at 12:39pm
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      Dimitri’s shadows shoot outward, spears of darkness crashing into the chest of the beast, but as the dust and tumult of the explosion settles, you can see only the faintest of scratches along the core of the mountainous creature. At that same moment both of its enormous fists crash down, slamming towards the direction that the shadow spears came from, hammering down towards Dimitri’s location.

      Two giant stone fists smash into the earth and it feels as if the entire world is shaking. They crash, one on either side of Dimitri, causing the ground around him to explode, showering him in thorned and stony debris and sending him flying backwards with the impact.

      At this same moment, Chitose swoops down narrowly avoiding the tree trunk, hovering low to the ground for a moment before swooping up into the air. The mountainous giant roars, rearing his fists back for another blow at Dimitri’s location but then, catches sight of the soaring Chitose, wings extended.

      With a cry of brimstone gusting wind the creature changes his tactic, swooping his massive open hand out to try and snatch Chitose and Laryka into its stony grasp.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on February 28, 2011 at 4:44pm
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      *Not wanting to be more of a flight burden for Chitose as she already was, the opportunity to leave Chitose’s grasp came when they neared the ground and the great stone fist was moving upon them to either swat them like flies or to snag them up within the stone palm. Either way, Lark gave Chitose permission to let her go….even worked against his thumbs to quicken the action. Being released, she did quite the acrobatic tuck and roll, but came out bruised non-the-less. As soon as she was on her feet, she put up the hood of her cloak of thieves and rendered herself invisible. This way she was able to run westernly on the rocky wasteland in hopes of finding something….a pile of rocks or even a twisted tree to crouch behind….allowing Chitose to fly higher without the extra weight.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on February 28, 2011 at 7:32pm
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      |Chitose let the female go dropping her when he was near to the ground. He was thankful that Laryka had left his grasp as he would never have admited that the female was a weight burden to him. He flew straight into the air to avoid the beasts attacks. His feline ears are stuck against his skull as he snarls lowly. He turned as he turned to fly away making sure that the beast was occupied he flew over Laryka protectivly to protect her from any onslaught of attack. The attack would hit him before it came into Contact Laryka. Glancing at Dimitri he was making sure the male was able to move as he was still above Laryka as they made their retreat. His dark colored wings blended the retreating couple in the darkness|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 1, 2011 at 3:46pm
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      The creature doesn’t notice Laryka as she slips into invisibility, taking off into the woods. His only target is the flying form of Chitose, his enormous open hand swiping out to grab at him, the thick stone fingers lacing up ready to grasp him from his aerial ascent. And then, a force of dark shadow grasps his arm, tugging him backwards so that his massive fingers only just barely graze the heals of Chitose’s feet as he swoops upward and out of range.

      The giant creature roars, catching site of Dimitri just as the shadows slip him into a coat of stealth. Screaming in its booming voice the stone giant crashes his hands into the earth, pulling up huge chunks of dirt and rooted vines and sending them flinging into the air. As you make your way, racing off into the night, you can still feel the crashing of the earth as the enormous beast throws a tantrum of violence, which he takes out on anything within his reach.

      However the tumult of the encounter has not gone unnoticed. As you move, you have a feeling of eyes watching you. Something slips amongst the tangled skien of Hellifyno, a figure of darkness and obscurity, seen only in passing glimpses of movement that may have been imagined. Despite the shadows, despite the cloaks of night and magic, despite your speed still you can feel this presence pacing you, moving with you, always to far to catch, never to far to miss.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 1, 2011 at 4:39pm
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      *Escaping the stone beast of monsterous proportions seemed all too easy once the cover of false safety was found within the woods. It was in this treed darkness that something was amiss far more frightening that the mountainous creature still screaming with temper. As a human, Laryka was sensitive to superstitions, omens, even moreso to intuition and instinct. She lowered her hood to render her visable once more to make ease for her companions to find her. She pulled out the map, the faint glow radiated on her face. The compass too was brought out once more. It was then when studying that the short hairs on the back of her neck prickled erect, her skin was pebbled in goosebumps and a chill of suspicious fear danced down her spine. She looked about but found no source of the dread that began brewing panic in the back of her mind..*
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 1, 2011 at 6:51pm
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      Before we move further….we should assess and treat any wounds…Me thinks most Iva got would be bruises and scratches….but ya Dimitri….are ya in need o’ attending…? *She asked with a professional tenderness that most represented her best bedside manner while rolling up the map and turning into the direction they need to be heading to their destination. All the while she kept a keen eye peeled for the return of Chitose*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 1, 2011 at 10:20pm
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      |Chitose’s wings grip to his back as he barrel rolls away from the giant stone fingers that reach out to drag him to his own doom. There is a flapping sound as Chitose flies towards the group of two. His wings still tucked against his back he angles his feet so he hits the ground at a jog. Jogging to the group he glances at Dimitri smelling blood as he glanced around. His pure white eyes might stand out to some but not many. Only the group would be able to see the light in the eyes as he speaks quietly| “That thing…Looked Way Bigger than Shale ever would be.”
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 1, 2011 at 11:16pm
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      The Heroes move quickly and quietly through the twisted mass of the chaos stunted planet. The thorn vines continue to snap and wrap and slice at your skin, the tiny red flees continue to sting and bite. Vermin crawl across your body, slipping from the massed vegetation to creep past guard and shadow and cloth, to squirm across your flesh, to claw and bite and suck your precious blood. Beneath, there is mud filled with stones. Around you, there is only darkness.

      Behind you, something malevolent follows.

      After a short while the vegetation begins to grow more sparse. Not the sudden lack of trees and vines that had occurred on the stone giants hill top head, this seems more natural, simply a clearing in the wilderness, with random tufts of twisted life sprouting across the landscape. The ground grows slightly more firm but the soil turns black now, instead of brown. And amidst the clearing, you can make out the ancient aged facade of stone grave markers, littering the earth.

      The map indicates, that you have arrived at the entrance of the Tomb.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 2, 2011 at 6:29pm
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      Seems as iffen we’ve reached our destination….*She muttered quietly as she gazed about attempting to read the nearest of the stone grave markers….not that she was a grave robber….but she had a mild interest in the rich history that surrounds Hellifyno. The blackened soil caused a bit of concern and she wondered if it had anything to do with the blackened rivers. She crouched down and began to examine the fauna, those strange tufts of sparse grasses and vines….but only momentarily as she had a painful reminder of the thrashing vines and thorns of their entire trip thus far. Those reddish mites and flees and buggy creatures left welts on her wrists, hands, neck and face….ever so unpleasant this trek was so far. As far as the map indicates, apparently they have reached the entrance to the tomb, but she was looking for a cavern, a cave, a temple, a building or even an opening in the ground in which they would have to go. *

    • #41420
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 3, 2011 at 12:24am
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      *He felt something snap against the pantleg of his armor. He grunted slightly as he shook his foot kicking the unseen attacker. Feeling the fleas bite at him as he shook his head making sure his hair is clean of the said bugs. Feeling the ground suddenly became solid he smiled knowing they were on safe ground. He loved it that way. Glancing at Dimitri he caught the evil glare from the male as he frowned speaking to the male* Your blood is not the type I like. I feed only from females. *Frowning he shook his head not liking the taste of acid in his mouth. Watching Laryka closely he knew she was the one with the most expertise with “stealing” things from people or relieving them of their possessions. GLancing at the map the pack still on his back*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 3, 2011 at 12:04pm
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      There is no entrance, there is no cavern, there is no doorway into the Tomb.

      The original notice indicates that there should be some kind of tunnel leading down. The map indicates that the tunnel should be right where your standing. There is no tunnel, only grave markers.

      As Laryka kneels to inspect the tombstone she is greeted with a familiar sight. Chiseled into the weathered ancient rock is her own name, clearly spelled out in full, Laryka Dior-Fionnbharr.

      A quick search reveals markers written with a number of unfamiliar names but amongst them are the monikers of the other Heroes present; Chitose Tsuru on one, Dimitri Sagesson on another. The black earth before these ancient markers appears to be freshly dug.

      As you search amongst the weathered grave markers, the feeling of being watched, of being observed from the shadows of the moonless night, continues to haunt you.
      Laryka Dior-Fionnbharr
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      Permalink Reply by Nybbas on March 3, 2011 at 4:36pm
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      *Jordana suddenly appears behind the small group via portal. A light weight white wrap of material strung over her head and around her thin form. Deep brown eyes study the three travellers with curiosity, noticing the small cuts and bits of now drying blood she looks away to the black soiled ground. The tombs stones spark an interest, as does the lack of tunnel. She begins slowly moving towards the tomb directly before her, one of the unknown names clearly read “Jordana Baehr.” Dropping to her knees bits of blackened soil clung to the white flowing covering that hid her nearly nude body. Long stick like fingers traced over her name, outlining every letter. She pushed her palm to the tombstone expelling shock waves of electricity, small bits of lightening in an attempt to crack and mangle her own grave.*

      Dig them up.

      *Her voice ringing out of a slender mouth. She had not introduced her self to anyone, nor had she cared to ask for their names. She reached in her wrapping towards her left breast, pulling out what looked to be a small black change bag. Quick fingers unsnapped the silver clip.*

      Dlouhá cesta dom? p?inesl m? sem, ná?adí hledám, ochrany, co pot?ebuju. Zbran? volby dovolte mi, abych to všechno najdete zde. Poklady hle, nosím je drahá.

      *Muttered under her breath just before sliding her bone like hand into the bag. She seems to fiddle around in it, her arm in up to her elbow. Then pulling out a spade shovel, quickly clipping the small carrier shut, tucking it back in place she pushes her self off the ground. Jordana fiercely slams the shove to the ground, ramming an unseen foot on the base then prying upwards.*

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 3, 2011 at 5:59pm
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      *Laryka was far too drawn to the grave marker that advertised her name. Knowing all to well with constant reminders of her mortality, this particular omen made a frightful and andrenaline fused shiver to to rattle down her spine accompanied by a silent gasp that could not fully leave her lips. Drawn as one might be to the morbid realities of life, she presses forward towards the freshly dug grave, kneeling on the recently turned dirt of blackish hues. Her left hand, delicate and smallish compared to most, outstretched to caress her name in the stone. So many sensations seemed to accost her at once while she faced this grave baring her name. Her skin prickled with nerves alerting her to the constant feeling of being watched. The overwhelming darkness not cut by moon nor stars, the encroaching shadows that seem to move on their own accord, the fact the map shows they’ve reached their destination but all they have found is this cemetary with a foreboding message……..all these things make her more than merely nervous but nearly skittish like a cornered feline. She cut a glance to the side as lightening flickered down upon another grave some distance away. She spied someone else in the cemetary unfamiliar to her eyes, she searched out quickly for the outlines of both Dimitri and Chitose.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 3, 2011 at 7:15pm
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      |Chitose feels the presence of another being. Turning around spotting Jordana appear from thin air he frowned as he new that the female was going to give out their position. He knelt down in the mud his black pants are covered in the dirt as he leans forward picking up the marker. He trails his index finger along the name of “Chitose Tsuru.” His wings were folded to his back as he was confused slightly. How did someone know his name. Feeling as if he was being watched he stood leaving the stone where it lay making his way over to Laryka. He did not know who was here but he was not about to let Laryka get harmed. Not on his watch. His right hand finds its spot upon the hilt of his katana ready to attack the person if she dared harmed the company he came here with as he spoke quietly to Laryka| Someone else is here. Other then that female. Something is watching us. I do not like the feeling.
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      Permalink Reply by Nybbas on March 3, 2011 at 7:27pm
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      *She felt nothing but a distaste for her company, She was also aware of them being watched, but she wasn’t about to stand around and wait for something to strike, wait for them all to get hit with more than they may be able to handle. She continued digging at her own grave, one shovel of dirt and then another, was it her want to find the tunnel or the curiosity of what lays beneath the soil that drove her forward.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 3, 2011 at 10:25pm
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      There is still a feeling of being watched, a foreboding sense of eyes alighting upon your every move, even as a portal splits the air and the slender form of Jordana appears amongst your company. She immediately spots the marker bearing her own name and she rushes to it, an outburst of loud piercing words bursting from her mouth, and then an explosion as her energy blasts the tombstone, causing the other members of the Heroic party to cringe as they sweep their gaze out over the wasteland, trying to see if the heedless sounds attracted unwanted attention.

      There is silence. Only now do you realize that the sounds of the twisted chaos world have ceased completely. No longer can you hear the roar of battles, the hiss of predators, or even the call of the strange and dangerous monsters that haunt the countryside. There is only complete and absolute silence coming from the vile vegetation that surrounds the clearing.

      Silence, and the feeling of those eyes, that powerful presence that watches.

      The moment Jordana’s spade slams into the freshly tossed earth the ground collapses revealing the tunnel that she sought, a tiny hole in the ground, just barely big enough for someone to slide in head first.

      A moment later Dimitri’s efforts with the shadows shove aside a great mound of dirt and he too reveals a tiny tunnel shooting straight down. This one is slightly larger, looking as it it were built for the larger bulk of Dimitri and yet, it is only sized for him to enter it head or feet first, arms clasped to the side.

      The tiny tunnels appear to extend straight down. It is impossible to see how far they go, and the darkness within them is impenetrable.
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 3, 2011 at 11:50pm
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      |Chitose glanced at the female that was digging at her own grave remember an old folk lore as he smiled trying not to laugh. He caught the vibes from the female that she did not like them and nor did he like her. There were no introductions. She just appeared in the middle of a dark night with light clothes on giving out their position to the things that was watching them. Seeing the tunnels were in the graves he walked to the dirt as he knelt down scooping the dirt off his own grave. Removing his voidite dagger from his hip he stabbed it into the ground in hopes of causing the ground to disappear as to reveal a tunnel hopefully. He did not like this at all. there was something still watching them and it was becomming unnerving.|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 4, 2011 at 1:14am
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      *Her sense of wonderment on the grave marker began to turn into a somber reflection. She was aware of those around here, and the constant nagging feeling of unknown eyes upon her, upon them. The answer to their crux came suddenly. Though Jordana seemed unequipped to handle discretion, Dimitri took up the woman’s idea. Laryka hesitated. The idea of digging her own grave was nearly unnerving as that feeling of being spied one. But then she realized the deadly silence that covered them, it buzzed in her ears louder than the distant rumblings of creatures doing what they do in the dead of night. She held her breath and still heard nothing, no quick flapping of buggies, no growls, no hisses, no trasping through the foliage of creatures’ feet. And fear overcame her. Dimitri at his grave fell from her sight. She realized now what she had to do. She held back her emotions as with cupped fingers and palms she on knees did what needed being done. She dug into her own grave. Her throat tightened, threatened to cut off her air supply as panic stole over her in the silence still covering them.*

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      Permalink Reply by Nybbas on March 4, 2011 at 3:33am
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      *She softly lays the shovel to the side of the tunnel that had suddenly fallen before her. Glancing over her shoulder, it had not gone unnoticed that she seemed to be unwelcome by the group she was now working with. How ever it did not play at her mood, nor did it effect her mental stability. Her deep dark eyes began to slowly shift to a lighter brown, nearing a sweet hazel, showing what she truly could not feel. White lids fluttered over rolling eyes, now seeing that finally the other two had followed hers and Dimitri’s lead, rather than silently pissing and moaning over something they may never understand. Jordana slowly fell back to her knees, although she may have looked to be careless, her movements seemed almost graceful. She felt no need to be overly cautious or stealth like, simply because if one can not protect themselves perhaps they should turn around and go home. She her self knows any journey such as this is not for the faint hearted, nor is it for the ones who need others for their own personal safety. She reached across the tunnel picking up a small shattered piece of her tombstone, then held it above the dark opening to the tunnel, the tunnel she could see no end to. Her pointer finger and thumb dropped the rock, and listened for a landing, counting the seconds before it hit the bottom, trying to gauge the distance she might have to crawl or fall.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 4, 2011 at 4:29pm
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      Heedless of danger or caution Dimitri quickly leaps into the hole that stands before his tombstone. As he does he is enveloped in a pure darkness, a darkness so potent that it can be felt, it can be tasted. To the Heroes lurking above he is gone. He cannot be seen, he cannot be heard.

      Laryka kneels before the tombstone bearing her name and presses her hands into the freshly tilled dirt. Instantly the ground falls away, as if it were nothing but the thinnest of coverings, awaiting only the gentlest touch to reveal the slender tunnel beneath.

      At the same time Jordana drops a piece of her shattered tombstone down the tunnel which waits before her. The rocky fragment drops… falling into the inky black nothing and disappearing. A moment later there is a sound of clattering, stone on stone.

      Then Chitose raises his voidite blade, and as it hits the dirt the earth collapses revealing yet another hole, sized perfectly to his shoulder width. However the momentum of the strike draws the blade down, and as its sharpened edge pushes past the opening in the ground, a terrible sound pierces the night. Loud and whining, like nails scratching along a slate board the sound is violent, painful, making it feel as if your ears were going to bleed and your skull were going to explode.

      In an instant, so quick that Chitose doesn’t even have a chance to pull the blade back, the sound stops. In its absence, the silence of the moonless night seems oppressive, weighing down on you like a woolen throw.

      Meanwhile, beneath the earth, wrapped in darkness and falling for an eternity, Dimitri begins to see visions, familiar visions rising before his eyes. These are visions of his past, images of people he knew, people he has loved, people he has killed. They appear like a glowing picture show before him, hovering in the dark.
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      Permalink Reply by Nybbas on March 4, 2011 at 4:59pm
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      *The sound of the stone falling, landing, and clanging is enough for Jordana. She lifts her hands above her head, making her body even more narrow for the small tunnel awaiting her depature.

      The pericing sound of whinning sends shivers down her spine, her ear drums feeling as if they could burst, even after the sound stops she is left to hear a continuous ringing echoing in her head, clouding her thoughts.

      She has no intentions of sticking around to see what the noise was, it was now time to push forward, keeping going.

      She lowers her self into the endless dark space hands first, followed by her head, then shoulders. She slides he slender self into the black pit. The walls of said tunnel grind along her stomach, coating her even further in dirt and grim. Theres limited amount of space surrounding her. She suddenly feels enclosed in the darkness, trapped in pure black sight.

      The tight fitting path leavse her no room to reach for her coin bag, no room to reach for light. There is no fear with in her, just another emotion she has the lack to feel, but something else plays at her mood. A feeling of the unknown, an uncertainty of what is awaiting her on the other side.*

    • #41421
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 4, 2011 at 6:05pm
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      *With the slender tunnel revealed to her, her nerves jolted at the eerie, chill and piercing sudden noise coming from Chitose’s direction…and then the heavy silence. It was all too much to bare even considering feeling like a sitting duck in this cemetary or pre-made graves, the eyes still watching from an undisclosed location…..she was ready to leap right in with both feet as opposed to remain topside which seemed almost more ominous than entering what she assumed was the tomb they’d been searching for. Feet first she lowered herself into the snug tunnel and crossed her arms over her chest, casket style as she began to slide into the hole meant just for her.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 5, 2011 at 2:14am
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      |Chitose made no sound as he heard the sound of Whining he had made no sound as he was afraid of seeing such a creature that made the loud sounds. His feline ears flattened against his skull as he was not liking the sound of it. He glanced around behind him to see what was making such a loud. Seeing that there was no clear thing that was making the sound he leaned forward falling into the hole that he had created with the voidite blade. Making sure that the dagger tip is pointed away from his chest he climbed feet first into the hole. Sliding down into the snug little hole but attempting to hide his fear of tight spaces he breathes slowly knowing that if anything bad happens his group is somewhat near…Right?….He was not about to full risk it. He was breathing slowly as not to take up much room.|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 6, 2011 at 2:11pm
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      Jordana slips into the hole before her, and darkness encloses her.

      Chitose slips into the hole as well, and yet, as his body lowers into the darkness, he can feel something wrong, very very wrong, even as the darkness encloses him.

      And then Larkya slips her feet into the break in the earth, and as she does, it’s as if the world is shattering. The high pitched screech of whining violence rips through the air. The sound is so powerful that even as she falls into the darkness of the hole, drawn now inexorably downward, she can see the landscape around her exploding, dust flying back, shrubs and leaves and vines blasting backwards as if retreating from an enormous detonation. This forceful devastation is the last thing she sees of the world above, before darkness encloses her as well.

      As you fall, fall, fall, down down down, into the sight blighted tunnels, you feel the hard earth of the claustrophobic walls tight around your bodies, restricting you from even the most basic of movements. As you fall, fall, fall, down down down into the never ending darkness you begin to feel as if the world doesn’t exist, as if there is nothing but this tunnel that entombs you, nothing but the sensation of free fall and the blank dark canvas of oblivion that is everything now.

      And then the visions begin. They are familiar sights, pictures of your life, of people you know, people you love and hate, people you’ve known and people you now know. There are visions of the dead, and visions of the newly born. You see yourself in these images, acting out the quintessential moments of your life. You see battles, you see wars, you see love and passion, and you see violent hatred. The images of your past flash against the darkness, floating in the blight of black. You feel as if you should reach out, should grasp them, should try to touch them, to help the hurting, to comfort those in pain, to hold those you love, to take on the mantel of your life that you are watching flash before your eyes.

      But the tunnel is claustrophobically tight around your bodies. You cannot move. All you can do is fall, and watch.

      The visions grow faster, more violent, exploding into site and then disappearing at a furious rate. They come at you far too quick for you to process and yet you know these visions, you feel them in your soul, these are the moments of your life and even the faintest evocation of them ignites familiarity.

      And then the images grow strange. You begin to see faces you don’t recognize now. And yet, somehow they are familiar. There are people you have never met, moments you have never witnessed, and yet you can feel that they are intimately tied to you. Your mind struggles with the familiar unfamiliarity of the visions as you witness moments from the distant past. You see events from hundreds, thousands, even millions of years ago and its like watching an old movie that you haven’t seen in ages, as your soul reawakens these far and distant memories.

      Slowly you begin to understand. These are incarnations of your past. Lives lived long ago by your soul. Lives lived in another age, another world, another dimension and universe. These are visions of your past lives, showing you the journey of your essence, the travels of your being through the long and twisted road of time. You see moments that once devastated you, moments that once brought you to your knees. You see ancient triumphs of exultant glory. You see violent death, the end, coming for you over and over again.

      As Chitose falls he can feel a trembling coming from his voidite blade. It begins to quiver violently against him. As he falls, visions of his past both close and distant flashing before him, the weapon grows cold, so cold that its frosty touch seems to envelope him. The trembling of the dagger grows so uncontrollable now that its cutting and slashing, its slicing and stabbing, it shivers more and more and then finally, the weapon explodes outwards and its as if a shower of black raindrops falls upon the visions of his past, somehow tainting them.

      For Laryka the fall is much worse. She has no images of love or hope to comfort her. All she sees is the violence and death in her past. She sees every sin she has ever committed. She sees every wrong that has ever been done to her.

      The visions that arise before Laryka are dark and twisted, with a slick oily black coating that seems to taint them. She sees all of the horrors of this life, and then, she begins to see the terrors of the past. She sees every sin her soul has ever committed, every murder, every act of vile violence, every instance of pain and suffering. She sees a thousand deaths and a million heartbreaking moments, she sees an eternity of pain that stretches out before her endlessly as she free falls through the close claustrophobia of the hard unyielding tunnel.

      For all of you the visions grow faster and more violent the longer you fall. They crash into your minds, overwhelming your senses. They come at you so quickly that you can’t even process them; all you can do is let them wash over you, repeating to you the storied tale of pasts forgotten in an ever increasing whirlwind of flashing experience. Though you close your eyes against it the images are still there. Though you try to turn away the crashing onslaught is never ending. As the maelstrom reaches its crescendo it seems as if your minds might shatter from the onslaught. They keep coming at you, over and over, until you feel your very souls crying out for release from this torture.

      And then it’s over.

      You are no longer confined in the tight restriction of the tunnel. You are no longer falling. Beneath you there is solid stone, around you there is darkness, and in that darkness you can hear the sounds of your companions stepping, rustling, and moving free once more.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 6, 2011 at 2:39pm
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      *Normally hardened to visions of violence, that reel replaying past events of her own life urged a recoiling in her gut, a sob caught in her throat. She was not evil, of this she had no doubt though that slick oily black coating over the visions was…unfamiliar, at least enough to bring about her puzzlement. Her crimes, although mostly unconfessed to all she socializes with were countless but selfish enough to make guilt arise in her mind and heart. The lack of comfort from people and places of her past only force her to stiffen both physically and emotionally. She was not going to allow this tomb to win, she has survived much as a mortal woman and faced many demons both figuratively and literally…there was no way in hell…or Hellifyno that she was going to allow some unseen power, some unknown horror bring her to her knees with weakness. For all the bad she’s done, she has also done good…without seeking redemption. She cusses aloud, colorfully until the free fall had ended. In the darkness, she sat on the stone ground, legs splayed out to the side as she worked furiously to compose herself for the task at hand. Pinpricks in her heart had to be ignorned, the stains on her soul had to be overlooked. She schooled her breathing to turn even and steady after such a horrifying experience reminding herself of all the wrong turns she had to trek through to become what she is today. There was remorse but she shoved it aside, there was guilt but she swallowed it, there was regret but she had to brush it off….as she knew damn well there was no changing what she’s done. In the darkness, she listens and within her trained veil of silence she pulls herself to her booted feet. Eyes adjusting to the dimness, she begins to look around by only turning on a booted heel…attempting to establish directionality of the rest of her party.*
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      Permalink Reply by Nybbas on March 6, 2011 at 6:28pm
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      *While falling her heart beat quickens, thumping harder and harder against her chest cavity, feeling as if it could jump from her body and begin falling along side her.

      The visions are flashing before her, sights of the tight knit family she was brought up into, the pain of the blade as it tore through her flesh, over her breasts, covering her eyelids, trailing down her body. A bloody pool so thick covering her the curse could not even been seen. Visions of her lover turning a blind eye to what had been done to her, abandoning her thanks to her physical state. These memories spark a little something, her eyes slam shut trying to fight off what she was seeing but it didn’t work, she mumbled a short sweet spell to her self in an attempt to stop them, but still nothing worked.

      Small spark after small spark of the faintest amount of pain, regret, and sorrow. This only confused her as it has been so many ears since she felt the slightest amount of anything, felt anything at all. She was nothing but an empty shell, but now something new, something different.

      She does not cry, but her mind races, trying to piece together past lives which were suddenly intertwining with this life, small traits being cared over.

      Then with out warning, they stop, its over, the falling is done, she’s still, laid on the hard ground, the only movement from her heavy panting, taking a moment to recollect herself, reset the fuses.

      Then coming to a slow stand, she starts looking around the dark room, reaching for her coin bag chanting a small spell she reaches deep within, shuffling around in her bag, she pulls out a small vial of Zeus’ Tears, Illuminating a 60′ radius of light.

      Giving Dimitri a polite nod, her voice raising only a shift above a whisper, while now bright green eyes scan the room.*

      Is everyone alright?..

      *Nothing special about this woman’s voice much like her rather plain, average looking face.*

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 6, 2011 at 7:09pm
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      |Chitose’s inner senses were going off as his fear of tight places was kicking in. His feline heart was pumping blood through his veins at an abnormally large amount. His pupils dialated attempting to get views of the wall that was infront of him. He wants to open his mouth and scream out but knowing that it would restrict his movements even more he decides not to allow it. The delicate feathers on his wings are being covered in dirt as the featheres were pressed against the dirt wall behind him. He seems to almost go rigid forgetting about his fear of the past as he saw his entire life flash before his eyes the betrayal, neglect, powers, sex, lust. Feeling a bad stirring in his heart and stomach as he saw the images began to blurr he was liking less and less of what he was seeing and becoming more fearful of what was to come. Seeing a woman that he thought he should know but did not seem to tug at Chitose’s mind even more as he wanted to know who all those people were and why they were seeming so close but yet so distance. He made no sound as the voidite dagger began to grow colder and colder. His skin seemed to almost freeze as it was touching against the blade. Making no sound even as the dagger began to slice and stab at his skin causing the void’s power to come into work and make his skin disappear. Blood poored down from the wounds as his fists were clenched tightly. His feline claws jut out cutting deep into the flesh of his palms causing large amounts of pain to flash over his body in an attempt to cancel out the pain from the voidite dagger. As the ground appeared suddenly he fell onto his hands and knees. A dripping sound seems to come from his body. The source was unknown as blood was running down his stomach striking the floor as he seemed to be almost crying as well. His memories tore him apart each time he saw them. |
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 7, 2011 at 5:36pm
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      *Fully composed and her resolve in place, she stood in a lazy lean against the wall of the cavity they had all landed in. Hearing the others she assured herself that the adventure was truly beginning now and that she’ll have time enough when all this is through to mourn over the visions she was pressed with while falling through the tunnel.*

      “Present and accounted for,” *She claimed idly as Jordana made her inquiry. Her voice came out above a whisper, not wishing to share her location with any other creature outside of their group. While waiting for the others to come to verbally she sneaked a swig from her silver flask. It was just a cool swallow of a burning liquor…not liquid courage mind you, but rather a tonic to still her nerves….scotch of course.*

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 7, 2011 at 6:01pm
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      |Chitose’s voice was quivered then hardened suddenly as he gained his courage back. Feeling the blood roll down his stomach he did not speak a word to the group about his injuries for fear of them stopping and helping him. He stood by himself slightly as he spoke| ” I am here.”

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 7, 2011 at 7:46pm
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      Darkness. The sound of breathing. Quiet sobs slowly coming under control. And then, a burst of light.

      First Dimitri’s shadowed form begins to glow, pushing back the blight of darkness around him. Next Jordana adds her spell to the mix, a radiant radius of illumination erupting like a halo.

      As the darkness recedes you see that you are in an enormous cavern. Behind you there is a solid stone wall, gray concrete, but polished smooth like marble. It rises up, up, up, towering so far above you that the ceiling is lost in the obscurity of shadows. There is no sign of the tunnels that you fell through.

      This cavern opens up wide before you. You see no other walls, you see no ceiling, all are obscured in the distance and the dark. There are however pillars, enormous white marble pillars, perfect in color and complexion. They arise from the earth, bursting from the rough ground and towering over you.

      As you approach the closest of these pure white pillars you see that there are small inscriptions written into its surface. The words are tiny and precise, engraved into the stone they coat the entire piece. None of you understands the language, but as you look at them, the words faint white against white, you can almost gleam their meaning. Staring too long at the pillars writing, you begin to see images of what they describe, images of cruel and terrifying tortures, of dark rites, of unholy ceremonies.

      These monolithic stone features dot the landscape of this underground world, seemingly at random. Inspection of each reveals more of the strange engravings, the words that your soul can almost read, but which your heart begs to ignore.

      In the dark distance beyond the pillars you can make out the shape of an enormous pure white building. Though it lies beyond the light still its massive size is so dominant that its outline can be seen. And even just the outline of this building is incredible to behold, the lines, the curves, the trailing features of its facade are breathtaking. You can sense power emanating from there, like a beacon of energy calling to you.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 7, 2011 at 9:57pm
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      *She had to examine, to touch and experience the pillars before she noticed the pure white building set amongst the shadowed darkness in the distance. She went down to a crouch, examining the placement of columns and the floor. She was looking for pressure panels, triggers, changes in the smoothness of the floor….anything that would lead her to believe a trap of some sort might be awaiting them as they crossed the pillared and expansive room in order to reach what seems to be their goal location. She held her hand out to the rest of the party to keep them at bay while she analyzed the floor with her extra ordinary, well perfected skill.*
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      Permalink Reply by Nybbas on March 8, 2011 at 11:19am
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      * Jordana stands still watching Laryka do her investigation for only a passing second, letting the woman work in peace, she keeps silent, moving to one of the pillars.

      Pulling out her small bag, mumbling under her breath she pulls out a piece of paper and a graphite pencil, her thin hands push the paper against the pillar, softly but with incredible speed the rubs the lead against the sheet. Transferring some of the inscriptions to paper. she carefully places it back in her small change bag.

      She feels the shadows closing in on her, raising goosebumps over her pale skin, but other wise takes no notice of it.

      From the corner of her eye she watch Dimitri whisk Laryka away, shaking her head softly from side to side, her face looking to have a hint of disgust to it, as it seems to her either A.) The woman is incapable of taking care of her self and is a liability, or B.) The men shes travelling with have an issue with letting a woman have her independence.

      Her eyes snapped towards Chitose and her feet carried her forward towards the building in the distance.

      Its immaculate shape, the bends and twists, its size, nearly took her breath away. She held her light source close to her, trying to not get to distracted by the immaculate building. Her feet landed lightly, shifting from side to side, not walking in a straight line, avoiding any shifts in the level of the smoothed floor. If she happened to see and lines in the stone, or cracks she made a wide gap between her and it.

      She moved the average speed of a human, taking her time to cross, absorbing the beauty around her that so many others seem to shrug off.*

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 8, 2011 at 4:44pm
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      *Before she could complete her search for any seams in the smooth floor, the checking for traps was halted as the hands of Dimitri pulled her to the air and they took wing, flying the distance towards the great white building. Her search went incomplete as Jordana began to hoof it across the expansive distance. She merely gave an empty shrug at the set of circumstance and only hoped that such a search would not be required if they had to run the distance back once finished with being inside the white building and completing their mission. Others could call it paranoia if they wished, she perceived it as being well trained. Her eyes and mind were schooled to find the most intricate detail that might show a trap or a secret door. Now before them loomed the white building and Dimitri had taken the initiative to forward his progress. She glanced took a brief glance over her shoulder somewhat waiting patiently for Jordana and Chitose to close the distance.*

    • #41422
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 8, 2011 at 7:14pm
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      |Chitose watches the light seem to almost light up the area around the group. He shuddered as he raised his right index finger mumbling something as a small spark appears on the tip of his finger casting light around him. His wings folded against his back. The blood running down the front of his body was visible now. Leans in close as he wanted to read the things as he grits his teeth as he waas unable to understand a thing he was able to read. Grunting he leapt backwards suddenly seeing torture flash before his eyes. He kept looking at the stone wall but he was further than before from it. He shook his head glancing over at Laryka making sure that the female was doing fine. He caught her look he walked towards her slowly as his movements were slow as he was afraid to trip off any unseen booby traps.|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 9, 2011 at 12:47pm
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      The pillars seem foreboding things, sentinels of darkness and despair and though the script is foreign, in your examinations you begin to glean the meaning more and more. These are words of terror, words of power, words of horror. You don’t need to translate, you can feel the violent definition in the pit of your souls.

      Laryka’s hand grazes the pillar closest to her and its as if she were touching the icy cold of the grave itself, the chilling sensation tracing up her arm, filling her with a sense of trembling, terrifying power.

      A moment later Jordana gets a similar shot of somber sensation, exploding like a burst of despair in her arms; but she still manages to trace the words onto a sheet. Pulling the parchment back her eyes alight on those self same words, and its as if she were transfixed, falling, falling into the words as they draw her ever on into an endless expanse of terror and horrors.

      And then the paper in her hands explodes in black flames, and disintegrates into smoke and ash.

      As Laryka examines the world around her, she bends down, taking a close and measured look at the ground. Through years of training and experience her careful eyes are able to ascertain that the hard packed earth is only a covering cloak, coating some other surface, beneath. Just as her calculating mind is about to consider the possibility of traps lurking beneath the dirt a crack snaps through the air, as Dimitri’s wings unfurl.

      Stepping forward, Dimitri’s hands wrap tight around the slender woman’s frame and they lift into the air, soaring through the dark and massive cavern, leaving their companions behind.

      Flying forward at a rapid pace the beauty of the building that looms before you becomes more obvious, the sloping grace of the architecture drawing your eyes, the purity of the snow white facade almost glowing against the darkness. It is a sight of glory and consequence, a sight that demands attention and elllicits admiration, the impressive features growing more prominent in your vision with each passing meter.

      You also feel a sense of power in the air. The closer you draw to the building the more you can feel the magical energies crackling all around you. This is a terrifying power, deep and abiding, something that looms over your own skills like a mountain hovering above an ant.

      The feelings of power and energy, the sights of glory and beauty are so distracting that Dimitri misses the telltale signs of lines of glowing color which suddenly erupt in the earth beneath his winged pace. Laryka’s trained gaze is quicker to sight however, and as she opens her mouth to speak a warning, the flying duo crashes, hard, into the side of a translucent sloping wall that suddenly appears before them.

      As they crash and tumble down the angled wall and back to the earth, their companions catch up, looking at the looming architecture before them. A giant pyramid has appeared, clear like glass but tainted with an oily black sheen. It stands, enormous, surrounding the graceful beauty of the pure white building before you.

      To touch the pyramid is smooth and cold, to strike it is hard and resilient. By design the pyramid is flawless, standing as a protective guardian around your destination, with seemingly no method of entrance or exit.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 9, 2011 at 7:44pm
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      “Well that be o’ kick in the teeth! feck!”

      *She exclaims as she is dislodged from Dimitri’s hold when they crashed into and slide down from the pyramid-like shield. She was more suprised by the fall than she was of the building being protected under a shield of some sort. She began her investigations and could not find a way to enter or exit the pyramid…but knew there had to be a way even if hidden. She scanned and studied where the seam of the pyramid would come in contact with the floor…even tracing the boundary with her delicate fingers. Occasionally she would look back at Dimitri providing him with a shake of her head in the negative. Over her shoulder she would surmise the progress of Jordana over the floor that she had speculated was trapped somehow while attempting to track Chitose’s movements as well.*

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 10, 2011 at 2:14am
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      |Chitose was close behind Dimitri when he took flight. His own wings unfurling throwing him into the air. Catching the wind under his wings he took flight flying straight after Dimitri. He felt the power in the air as he smiled. He loved the feeling. Flying towards the building he was transfixed by the feeling of the power that was around him. Feeling as if his own skills were nothing compared to the thing he bit his tongue swallowing his pride and powers as he kept forward. Chitose’s wings snap forward sending gusts of winds forward propelling the neko backwards from the two that just crashed into thing. His right hand rested on the hilt of his katana as he kept in the air watching closely|
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      Permalink Reply by Nybbas on March 10, 2011 at 10:16am
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      *Jordana ends up only a few feet from the group with time, looking up wards to the great architecture. The entire time she crossed the distance, she couldn’t stop thinking of the pillars, and the bone chilling feeling they gave her.

      If she had gone this adventure alone she would have spent more time with them, finding away to transfer the scripts, but it seemed as if the group were more interested in the task at hand, rather than the small things leading up to it.

      Her eyes slowly dragged towards Laryka feeling out the building, and her shaking of the head to Dimitri. clearing her throat lightly before she spoke.*

      Did anyone recognize any of the text back there? *Nodding her head back from where they came.* I may be wrong but I think, I saw one phrase more than once.

      *She spoke unsure if anyone would pick up on what she was possibly thinking.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 10, 2011 at 4:24pm
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      As Jordana crosses the packed earth her feet impact upon the ground and occasionally the dull thud of sole on soil is replaced with a low, trembling chord, a sound of sombre song that rises trilling up into the air to fill the cavern for a moment. As Chitose lands near the pyramid the ground beneath him glows and another chord sounds. This is the third such chord and as it fades into silence it is replaced with a ticking noise, a quiet, steady tick… tick… tick… as of an enormous watch counting off the moments to some unknown appointment.

      Before you the pyramid is seamless, perfect clear oil black streaked walls rising up impossibly high to where they reach a pinnacle in the cavernous sky directly above the beautiful white walled palace before you. There is no opening, the seam between the walls sealed perfectly, the feel of the glass cool but not chilled, and exquisitely unbroken and untextured.

      Laryka’s hands glide along the polished surface, down to where it meets the ground. there she sees once more that the earth is only a light covering, a few inches of packed material coating some unknown surface. Her dainty skillful hands reach out to brush the dirt from her path and in its wake, she finds more of the pure white material, the bone white of the pillars, covered in etchings of an unknown language, words that you cannot read, but which you can understand with a dark terror in your soul.

      As the bone white surface is revealed, the sense of trembling, terrifying power becomes more prominent in the atmosphere of the cavern, and the ticking noise, grows slightly quicker.
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 10, 2011 at 6:08pm
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      Chitose’s feline ears press against his skull as he glances around his eyes landing upon the female, Jordana, He raised his right eye brow as he stared momentarily then turned away from the female as he spoke to her with his back to her ” I did not recognize it though there was one that did repeat itself…” Watching Laryka open the hatch he frowned. His right hand suddenly went to his katana as he felt the power levels in the room change suddeny, plus the ticking sound from the loud thing that was nearby|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 10, 2011 at 8:14pm
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      *She was not aware that she had found a hatch exactly but rather she was filled with the sense of foreboding as the ticking continuted and the polished white underneath the thin layer of dirt replicated what was found on the gleaming white pillars. She does not reply to Jordana, but as if filled with the need to hurry by the impatient ticking driving her on, she sweeps more dirt away from what would be the joining of where the pyramid meets the floor, looking for anything that would lead to a way in. She doesn’t even bother to answer Dimitri either, she seemed nearly paniced to hurry in her task as if something of great horror were to happen if they did not get out of this expansive chamber and into the white building under the pyramid’s protection by time the ticking had stopped.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 11, 2011 at 1:34pm
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      The ticking continues…

      Dimitri flew north, and as he hovered before the pyramid he beat his wings forcefully sending a great cloud of dirt flushing outwards, revealing the bone white engravings beneath. As the dirt settles, a thrum of power reverberates through the air and the engravings begin to glow, dark crimson lines of power erupting against the pure white backdrop of the floor.

      With every shuffling handful of dirt Laryka reveals more of the carvings, the strange haunting words, words with a terrible meaning you can almost gleam. Looking at those words you begin to have thoughts, thoughts of terrible actions, thoughts of violent deeds, they flash through your minds for just a moment, like seeing a memory of an ancient sin, before you push them aside to focus on the present danger.

      One more handful of dirt and the engravings beneath Laryka erupt in crimson light as well. Another thrum of terrifying power erupts through the air.

      The ticking quickens…

      You begin to see shapes forming within the pyramid. They emerge hazily ghosting into the air, but soon their bodies become quite real. Their forms are wretched, their skin blighted by disease and pock marks, with gaunt features and lanky limbs shifting unevenly across the earth as they crawl towards the pyramid wall separating you from them.

      As they reach the clear oil hazed wall, the gaunt and broken figures, men and women, begin to claw at it. Desperately they beat at it with weak thin fingered fists. You see them shouting, howling, begging for release, with tears streaming down blight ridden faces, but there is no sound.

      ”It’s a puzzle.”

      As you turn to look behind you there is a strange, bulbous creature, with an enormous head and large saucer eyes standing there, slightly hunched, hovering awkwardly as he gazes up at you.

      ”It’s a puzzle. But to solve it you have to sell your soul.”

      The creature wobbles awkwardly up to Laryka, and takes her hand in his spindly fingers, then with a lopsided grin he tries to tug her, his motion weak and limp.

      ”Luckily there is another way in, but you have to follow me. Come on, hurry, there’s not much time left!”

      Behind you, the wretched bodies of the broken people continue to crawl over one another, desperate to get through the clear perfect glass pyramid. Around you, the air is filled with terrible power, the ticking noise continuing at its rapid pace, the dark inscriptions glowing crimson beneath you.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 11, 2011 at 5:46pm
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      *Left with little choice due to the humming of dark energies, the impatient ticking in the background, the wretched bodies pressing and scratching for release from within the pyramid and finally the creature pulling at her hand….any moments of indecision had left her as the dreaded feeling of panic and doom crept into each nerve ending of her own body. She gave call to the others to follow as the creature began to lead her towards this “other entrance”. She pondered over the words it spoke, a puzzle needing to be solved with her soul. She asked herself….what sort of key would a soul represent, the lock must be of a kind she cannot pick or disable. Engaging the creature, after her call to the others, she asks quietly with her charm laden voice.*

      “Who are you and why are you helping me?”

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 11, 2011 at 7:29pm
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      The awkward, bulbous headed creature continues pulling at Laryka with his thin, spindly fingers, stopping every once in a while to wave his free hand at the others. Never bothering to stop, he replies to her queries while dragging her and the rest of the party away from the palace and the pyramid, drawing you off into the darkness of the cavern.

      “You can call me Dip, I was sent by the Other Side. They’re very very happy your here, but also very very worried about you all.”

      He nods his head emphatically as he continues to drag you farther from the palace, the sound of ticking filling the air, the feeling of terrible power thrumming all around you.
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 12, 2011 at 5:19pm
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      |Chitose watches Laryka with slight fascination. She seemed to habe been digging something up. His feline ears flattened against his skull hearing the ticking sound almost quicken. “We got company.” Chitose unsheathes his sword holding it infront of his feline body. His feline eyes seem to scan over the creatures bodies taking in the details of their bodies. Spinning around the see the odd creature with such a huge head he frowned as he kept his sword by his side. He follows behind Laryka on the left of Dimitri tapping her other shoulder in a reassurance way to let her know that he was with her also.|

    • #41423
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 13, 2011 at 3:35pm
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      As the creature leads you forward the sound of tick tick ticking…. the ticktock of some unseen clock continues to ring in the air as if counting down. However the more distance you put between the dark pyramid and those wretched creatures trying to escape, the less of the terrifying energy you feel humming in the air around you.

      At Dimitri’s words the creature turns its giant bulbous head, cocking it to the side as it regards him, one eye larger than the other.

      “This place… that’s one side. Then there is the Other Side that opposes it. There is always someone to oppose.”

      He says this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, continuing to tug Laryka, and by proxy the entire party forward.

      In the distance you see a line of amber glowing light. As you approach, you find that there is a long, thin gap running through the earth, a short but deep pit with flames sparking and issuing from it. Getting closer, you can hear the roar and crackle of the fire as it churns within the glowing crevice.

      “This is it, the back door to the Tomb. Hop in.”
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 13, 2011 at 7:48pm
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      |Chitose follows feeling the horrible feeling in his stomach start to recede slightly. He places his right hand onto the hilt of his katana ready to start slicing creatures apart. Glancing down into the chasm he glances at the Creature with the huge head. He glances over at Laryka, Dimitri, and Jordan. Breathing in deeply he stepped into the chasm. His feet together. His arms crossed over his chest. His wings tucked neatly against his back. He barreled down into the hole|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 14, 2011 at 3:19pm
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      (apologies for the late reply, I normally don’t log in on weekends)

      *Following Dip around the clear pyramid and to the deep it of flames, she halted short of entering. She had more questions for the creature but was afraid she didn’t have time to ask them. Her face was clouded of doubt as she stared at the “back door” to the tomb. She wondered if her ring of heat protection would save her from the licking flames. Watching Chitose go forth without a moment of hesitation only irked her further suspicious of his hellish existance. She glanced over at Dimitri puzzled, then realized they somehow had left Jordana behind as well.*

      “Dip, who are these entities you speak of? Why are they happy that I am here? Why are they concerned for the rest of the group?”

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      Permalink Reply by Nybbas on March 14, 2011 at 4:44pm
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      ????????(Aplogizes, I have been busy lately.)

      *Jordana kept her distance from the group as they were lead away from some strange being. She was not close enough to hear what they all spoke of, but rather looked behind her, to te rigt and to the left in parinoia. Being sure that no beast could be seen coming for them.

      The group stop and she began nearing them seeing Chitose jump into the flames followed by Dimitri. The tick still pull and pinched at her toughts; But she moved closer to Laryka.

      Listening to her questions and waiting for Dip to reply. She peeked over at the fire before them, then back to Larky, not willing to leave the woman beind with this creature for any reason.*

      (Also apologizes for any spelling mishaps, too lazy to spell check right now 🙂 )

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 14, 2011 at 5:04pm
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      Dip turns his enormous head, cocking it to the side so his larger eye peers up at her, blinking with curiosity.

      “Enty tees?… It’s… the other side… you know” He gestures strangely with his hands and with his head, trying to evoke some image in your mind like an alien version of charades.

      He stops, beads of sweat forming on his massive furled brow as he sighs, then looks left, then right, then left again, furtive glances checking the emptiness of the cavern before he leans in close and whispers, a sputtering of spittle splashing from his lips.

      “The good guys”

      The moment he says those words the ground begins to quake and shake, the ticking grows even faster for a moment, and then stops completely. There is a roar, as the earth beneath you explodes upwards, dirt spray crashing into you, revealing the pure white bone floor, glowing with crimson ruins of power.

      “Ohhhhhhh shit…. big mistake!”

      With that Dip turns and leaps into the chasm of fire, disappearing completely.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 14, 2011 at 9:06pm
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      *She groans and shrugs her shoulders as she looks to Dimitri.*

      “Seems as iffen we have lil’ choice in the matter, fella…”

      *With that she takes her leap up faith into the chasm right behind Dip.*

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 14, 2011 at 11:04pm
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      |Chitose flies straight down towards the ground as dirt sprayed him. He resisted the urge to unfurl his wings and take flight away. He rotates his head to see if Laryka was ok up there. He smiled slightly seeing that the female was coming with|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 15, 2011 at 9:31pm
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      There are flames. Roaring fire surrounds you but you do not burn. Rather you feel a gentle warmth caressing your skin as you fall, and then land lightly, the fire vanishing in an instant.

      You find yourself standing before the soaring bone white building, the gentle curves, the arcs, the gracefully flowing architecture of the impressive structure looming in your vision. Up close you can see the intricacy of the design, every line placed precisely, every feature flawless, to create a masterpiece of art that inspires sparks within your souls.

      And yet, standing in its presence, you also feel the sense of foreboding danger, the crackling energy which lurks just beneath the veil of reality, ready to spring out with violent and overwhelming force at any moment.

      The dark clear pyramid is gone, as are the teeming masses of the diseased wretches trying to escape. Behind you is the pillared cavern of dirt and bone, unadorned, quiet, the ticking having ceased, the chimes having fled.

      Before you stands a massive doorway. It is polished smooth, so smooth that its surface is a mirror, perfectly reflecting everything that passes within its gaze. There are no handles or knobs on this door, there is only the pure perfection of the mirrored glass, with your own images, staring back at you.
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 16, 2011 at 12:31am
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      |Chitose sees the fire as he tenses almost going into a shock as he was deathly afraid of fire but seeing that it did not burn his body but more caress him he allowed it without freaking out though his body was tense. His eyes trail over the shape of the building absolutely amazed by the architecture of the building . He stopped dead in his spot starring up at the building amazed. Feeling his ears rotate slightly as he felt the power in the air. The hairs on the back of his neck rise suddenly. Spotting the door way he walks towards it slowly. He knew the effects of being vein and he avoided looking directly at his own face knowing he would see his own scarred face in the mirror. He turned his head to the left attempting to get sight of his fellow companions making sure that Laryka and Jodan were okay also checking on Dimitri|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 16, 2011 at 4:04pm
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      *Going through the flames she was rewarded with no pain. Now she stood afront the mirror-like door sans anyvisable hinges, handle, knob or knocker. Her curiousity is in awe of the marvelous door creation, so shiny, so perfect like a flat gem of uknown quality and worth. So drawn she was to its surface, she did not even bother to glance around at the others in the group. Her emotions wavered between the sense of fear eminating from the environment and the dire need to find what lays beyond the door. Glancing at her reflection, she could not resist touching the surface with her hand running down her image as it looked back at her from the door’s mirrored face.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 17, 2011 at 1:36pm
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      As the Heroes stand before the shimmering sheet of reflective perfection, they see themselves, every detail, every feature, hovering within the glinting surface of this mysterious door. Chitose turns away from his own likeness, but Laryka and Dimitri are drawn to theirs, even going so far as to reach out and gently touch them, the material feeling ice cold to their grazing fingers.

      As you watch, the form of Chitose seems to fade, as if lack of attention has stolen his reflective existence, but the likeness of Laryka and Dimitri grows more solid, more real, and yet, darker than reality. There is a hint of sin hovering behind the eyes staring out at you from the doorway.

      Behind you, largely unnoticed compared to the vast beauty of the towering palace, and the mesmerizing visions of the mirrored door, Dip is patting his body down, putting out tiny fires of hissing black smoke which seem to have clung to him after the fiery descent. Looking up he sees the two staring into the mirrored door and his eyes grow even wider in his enormous bulbous head. He howls, smoke still issuing from his jacket, as he races towards you.

      “NNNNNNOOOOOOOO, NOOOOOO LOOOOOOOKKKKK”

      He crashes into Dimitri, his form small but dense, a sack of stones tackling the man, who in turn crashes into Laryka sending them both sprawling to the floor. Luckily, this saves Dimitri’s life, as a knife shoots from the hand of the Mirror Laryka, slicing out into reality and speeding through the space where Dimitri’s throat was a moment earlier.

      Now the two mirror creatures, Dimitri and Laryka, step from the reflective door into reality. They are perfect replicas, save for coal black eyes which burn with dark intensity in their skulls, and a halo of midnight power which pulses in the air about them.

      In an instant, more of Mirror Larykas knives are swooping through the air towards the prone form of her counterpart and Dimitri. Meanwhile Mirror Dimitri creates a dozen shadow fists, all of which erupt in the air around Chitose, slamming into him over and over again.

      As battle ensues you can hear a sound of hate filled laughter issuing from some unknown source, chilling the air with its vile pleasure.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 17, 2011 at 5:15pm
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      *Climbing up to her feet after being knocked down like a bowling pin, from Dip’s push into Dimitri and Dimitri into her, she finds herself faced with a living, breathing, fighting reflection of herself. Like a dartboard, she takes a blade to the shoulder, and to the upper thigh….both of which are pulled from flesh and shot back towards the Mirror image of herself. Blood drools from her open wounds but regardless, andrenaline took presidence over pain….which is weakness leaving the body. She positioned herself not in a defensive stance but one of aggressive oppression, whipping from her holster her XDM 40 cal. pack with a 16 shot clip of blessed bullets by the holy Angel Svalta. She exhaled before palming the handle, aimed and took a shot towards her Mirror Image, if the image did not move fast enough, should pin the reflection between the eyes.*

    • #41424
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 17, 2011 at 10:47pm
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      |He refused to look at his own reflexion as he knew that this sort of thing was vanity. He was supposed to be hit by the fists that were thrown at him but Dimitri seemed to save him. He snarled as he steped through the wall that Dimitri had summoned. He watched the two begin the battle their counterparts as he did not dare get in them thankful that he did not stare into his causing another Chitose to be formed. He watched the battle come to as his eyes land on the creature with the giant head that saved Dimitri’s life. He knew this type of trials. It was the trail of yourself to learn to overcome to evils and battle with your own counterpart he opened his mouth speaking| Dimitri use moves you never would have used before. Laryka you as well.
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 18, 2011 at 7:50pm
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      Dip, Laryka, and Dimitri are a tangled pile of flailing limbs struggling to stand as Shadow Laryka fires her knives at them. The momentary hesitation of extricating bodies from one another was just the delay she needed, as her first knife hits home in Dimitri’s chest, a spew of acidic blood spraying out over Laryka and Dip, a spurt managing to land on the Mirror woman’s leathered legs, burning a slight rip and wound into her flesh before she moves on, always moving, always agile, just like her real world counterpart.

      More knives flash from her hands, two slicing into Larykas body as she finally finds purchase for her feet, another slamming home into Dip’s side, wrenching a squealing howl from his lips and sending him scurrying away from the battle.

      Laryka fires back, two knives stained with her own blood shooting through the air, and in her adrenaline enhanced state her aim is true, the first slashing her Mirror counterpart’s thigh, the other slamming home into her left shoulder. However the Mirror Laryka now wraps her Cloak of Thieves around her form, and as the real Lark draws her firearm to finish the job the Shadow woman begins to fade into obscurity, moving quickly, and hard to see, causing the bullets to sail harmlessly through the air.

      As this is happening, a barrage of shadow fists pounds into Chitose, one to the jaw, another to the gut, another to the head, the arms, the legs, a flurry of pain erupting around him until Dimitri slams a wall of his own shadows around his companion, cutting off the devastating attack.

      The real Dimitri then grows, his form taking on the shape of an enormous shadow beast with light tipped claws that flash in the dark of the cavern.

      In response, his Mirror counterpart grows into an equally large and terrifying beast, this one bearing dozens of lashing tentacles each tipped with a sharpened edge of pure burning light.

      With a flip of its limbs, the Mirror Dimitri monster absorbs the shadow wall protecting Chitose. An instant later its limbs are slashing wildly through the air, one shooting outwards at the real Dimitri’s eyes, trying to lash the sight seeing orbs or at least hide his actions, as the rest of the creatures tentacles bear down one, after another, after another on the badly wounded form of Chitose.

      Meanwhile, wrapped in the Cloak of Thieves, the hazy form of the Mirror Laryka has managed to avoid her counterparts blessed bullets. That same cloak is now flung forward like a net, aimed for the real Larks face, while the Mirror woman rushes behind it, attempting to tackle her from behind the cloak, more knives flashing and stabbing as she does.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 18, 2011 at 9:08pm
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      *The blessed bullets were wasted, shooting out uselessly as the Mirror image of Lark took cover under the coveted Cloak of Thieves. Such a case would not be repeated, she holstered the firearm and hunkered down like a preditor searching for prey only to be surprised by the sudden appearance once again right before her, her own Mirror Image bagging her own head with the generous lengths of the cloak. She kicked out wildly to her target even under the veil of the cloak, once the leg was in air she withdrew a bootknife not just for defense but to cut through the fabric disallowing her the use of sight and harboring her ability to fight off her mirror image attacker.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 19, 2011 at 2:05am
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      |Chitose grunted as blood sprayed from his lips as the fist hits home on his jaw. He kept his jaw unclenched to avoid spraying blood breaking his teeth in the process. He screamed against the inside of his mouth. The punch to the gut caused large amounts of blood to flow up through his throat coating the other Dimitri. He snarled lowly glaring at the thing as he staggered backwards as he drew his sword from its sheathe. He slashes his sword to the right slashing some tentacles away. A tentacle slashing across his chest as his armor tightened to avoid the contact striking his armor gritting his teeth harder he snarled lowly. Slashing at the Tentacles pissed off|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 21, 2011 at 2:36pm
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      (I have to apologize for the delay. I ended up DM’ing a number of chat missions this weekend which distracted me from the forums. )
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 21, 2011 at 2:36pm
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      The Mirror Laryka crashes down on her opponent, covering her face with the Cloak of Thieves. The Mirror monster raises a knife, slamming it down towards the others throat, when a booted foot whips out, catching her in the gut. She falls backwards, arms wavering out, bringing her to a standing position above the real Laryka, whose knife shreds the Mirror Cloak releasing her from its covering. The first thing she sees beyond the cloak however, is the boot of her opponent, swinging hard towards her face.

      As this happens, the giant shadow beast of mirrored tentacles hurls a full and flurried attack against Chitose, taking the real Dimitri’s momentary distraction to the face as an opportunity to press his violence against the feline warrior. Chitose’s blades swing out heroically, hacking and slashing at the tentacles, slicing first one, then another off, the wriggling light tipped vines landing writhing on the earth.

      Chitose swings again, aiming to fell yet another of the lashing tentacles, his sword arcing through the air, just barely missing the writhing limb as it slams into his chest, hard, the light tipped talon on the end drawing a deep gash across his core, the powerful impact sending him flying, crashing into the mirror. There is a sound of crunching, and tiny spider vein crack erupts in the perfect surface of the mirrored door behind him. As it does, the creatures, Laryka and Dimitri, waver slightly for a moment, then grow firm once more.

      In the same instant that Chitose goes flying the real Dimitri’s shadow whip lashes around his counterpart’s throat. The mirror monster swings a tentacle through the air, the leading edge growing sharp like a razor, the trailing edge spreading out like a cloak of night. The razor point slashes through the spiked whip, severing the real Dimitris shadow weapon, while the trailing cloak spreads out, absorbing the needles of light like a shield.

      In the next moment, the mirror creature levels that long sharp tentacle, then flashes it out, flinging it through the air at the real Dimitri like a giant deadly battle fan.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 21, 2011 at 3:30pm
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      *Although Laryka was freed from the impromptu net-cloak, she was then faced with a painful bash with the bottom of a boot to her face, a sickly crash and crumble of bone bonded with her grunts of agony. Her nose was broken and the spray of blood was fresh and warm. With blade still in hand, she pushed forth with all her force, eyes finding her target of the femural artery nicely displayed due to the splayed leg action for the kick to her face. Anger of being in pain fueled her forward motion, though tears stung her eyes, and blood was sucked in through her mouth with each deeply trained inhale.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 22, 2011 at 8:39pm
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      |Chitose staggers up rising from the pile of blood and broken glass. He spit on the ground as he raised his right eye brow in slight amazement. He smiled as he limped towards another mirror ignoring the torture his body was being placed through to simply move as he brings the butt of his katana down onto another mirror. His eyes are locked onto Laryka making sure that the female can handle herself as he grit his teeth as he began to feel the blood poor down his chest. He clenched his jaw as he began to mumble quietly. His left index finger began to glow as the tip of his finger was beginning to heat up. He applied the finger to the giant chest wound. The finger was white hot as it burned and cauterized the wound for now to stop the bleeding.|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 22, 2011 at 8:43pm
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      As the booted foot slams into her chin, Larykas knife slashes outwards. Her aim is fueled by pain, but her knife is moved by the force of the kick that struck her body, the blade slicing low, yet deep through her counterparts calf, a spill of crimson bursting from the wound as the Mirror woman lands wobbly on her legs, now both damaged. However without even a moments hesitation a pistol flashes into her hand and is raised at the real Laryka, a string of bullets bursting from its muzzle at close range.

      Behind her, Dimitri continues the battle with his own Mirror Monster, the tentacle turned fan blade shooting through the air towards him. The real Dimitri spins, his enormous shadow shrouded form moving with uncanny speed as he races directly up the mirrored door and then leaps backwards, over the darting fan blade which crashes into the mirror, causing a large section, roughly half of its surface, to shatter into a million glistening pieces.

      Without looking he turns then and fires a dark spear directly at the Mirror Larykas back. However the moment the reflective door cracked her form began to grow hazy, flickering in and out of view, and as he watches, his weapon flies directly through her core, never touching her, but instead barreling towards the chest of the real Laryka standing in front of her.

      With a roar, the Mirror Dimitri, also flickering and fading in and out, lashes down at his counterpart, many of his blows passing through him as if nothing but wind, but a few managing to land, the light tipped claws raking great gaping wounds across his form.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 23, 2011 at 4:59pm
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      (I have to apologize for the following post. I’ll be taking a personal leave starting Saturday and will not return until sometime in the first week of April. I have enjoyed participating in this round-table style RP and wish I could continue but to be fair to the other players I am going to take advantage of the opportunity represented to carefully exit my character so that the others can continue on without halting the storyline.)

      *Retrieving her knife from the mirror image’s calf was easy enough, but in that split second as Laryka pulled backward, flashes of the Mirror Laryka brilliantly shot forth. Already wounded, her energy was waning along with her balance. She took a bullet to the right shoulder before she dodged several more. As the Mirror Laryka emptied the clip, the real Laryka aimed her already handled knife towards the Mirror Laryka, a neck shot was anticipated. The unexpected part of the situation was finding a shadowy spear sailing through the Mirror Laryka and directly into the real Laryka’s chest on the right side. She hadn’t seen it coming. The entire battle had been moving fast and fierce. Impaled and shot, she backstepped on unsteady legs before they too just gave out and she flopped to her side, bleeding and of labored breath, eyes rolling in the back of her head as the pain was quite overwhelming. With most people in her situation, normally their whole life would flash before their eyes. Instead for her the only vision was that of Donnagan. She held tight to the visage, his mismatched eyes, his facial scars, his sneering smile, his bounty of piercings the shone on his face. Whatever strength and energy she had left, it was reserved to survive while feigning death until the battle was over…..if she could survive long enough for such to happen while laying in a puddle of her own life essence with the rising odor of a coppery scent of her blood spicing the air. *

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 24, 2011 at 6:27pm
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      | Chitose watches as he grits his teeth closing his eyes allowing the healing process to speed up as he then opens his eyes to make sure that Dimitri was doing ok with his shadow counterpart.| -good bye lark We will miss you-
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 25, 2011 at 7:47pm
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      Dimitri sends a volley of dark shadow spears shooting towards the mirrored door…

      As the spears fling through the air…

      The Mirror Dimitri slips up behind his opponent, his own shadows formed into a giant guillotine which slams down hard towards his counterparts spine.

      As the spears fling through the air…

      The Mirror Laryka stands over her own wounded opponent. Flickering in and out of reality, she loads the gun once more, raising it to the Real Larykas battered skull, and then pulling the trigger.

      In this same instant the spears smash hard into the mirrored door. It erupts in a cataclysm of shattered glass shards which spew out into the air in a flickering multitude of reflected light and vision.

      The guillotine that has just barely sliced a ribbon of acid spewing red into the back of Dimitri’s spine vanishes.

      The bullet which has just barely grazed the flesh of Larykas temple vanishes.

      The shadow counterparts disappear in a flash of light, no trace of blood or bullet left to prove they were ever there. Nothing but the grievous wounds of the faltering companions.

      As Aurora finally steps from the shadows, she leans over the fallen Laryka. Her body is battered and sliced, pale from loss of blood with her breath coming in weak and shallow gasps. However the Elven woman reaches her just in time, the herbs infusing Lark with strength, the medical knowledge of her storied past coming into play as she fights to preserve the life of the fallen Hero.

      Her ministrations finished, she turns to look at her new companions, her gentle voice inquiring if anyone else needs assistance.

      Her query is answered by pitiful, pain filled groaning. The fallen form of Dip, their strange and erstwhile guide lies a few feet off, turning and moaning, a large knife jutting from his side.

      Meanwhile, where the mirrored door once stood, now there is only a swirling vortex, a massive portal of twisting darkness, leading into the ancient tomb.

    • #41425
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 25, 2011 at 7:50pm
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      (Lark, I’m of course sorry to see you go. At this point Aurora has preserved the characters life enough that she can use a homing rift to teleport back to Consequence for healing. Then when your RL commitments are taken care of you can feel free to rejoin the adventure if you feel like it, at your leisure. Thank you for participating.)

      (Also welcome to Aurora and thank you for joining in. If you have any questions feel free to send me a message and I would be happy to help you out. If anyone else reading this would like to join in, we are trying to maintain enough flexibility so that your characters can portal into the action as necessary, so feel free to jump in when you like.)
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 25, 2011 at 8:01pm
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      *Laryka was given enough herbal support to strengthen her resolve to live. Though in no condition to continue, she does slip her hand into her pocket. She withdrawls the portaling coin given to her for her birthday from Romulus. She used it instantly to portal to the HERD facility for proper care. She vanished without a word to her companions as there was nothing verbal she could offer them, feeling defeated wounded her pride more than her body was broken.*

      (See ya all later, I will catch up with you all on my return. G’luck and have fun.)

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on March 26, 2011 at 2:07pm
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      |Chitose glances at the female that had just appeared not trusting her one bit at all. He stares at her as he speaks quietly to the female so only she can hear though his right hand goes towards his katana. His shirt is torn to hell as he ribs it off with his other hand seeing that the fabric was useless exposing the exo-skelton based armor that was on his chest and stomach. | Who are you and what exactly are you. You smell elven but there are no elves. |Spotting that dip was down on the ground he jogged over to the male whispering to the big creature on the ground | You are going to be ok Dip..
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on March 31, 2011 at 9:43am
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      Moans, crying, writhing weak motioned pleas sound from the mouth of the strange, oblong headed creature. Dip lies in a pool of his own crimson blood, a gaping wound lanced through the side of his gut, the result of the Mirror Larykas knife impaling his flesh.

      The knife has faded, vanishing with its Mirrored wielder, but the wound continues to throb angrily as Dip whimpers in pain.

      Behind you a spray of shattered glass leads up to a swirling midnight vortex, the entrance to the tomb of High king Ar’Elis.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on March 31, 2011 at 11:14pm
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      *The HERD healers made quick work of Laryka’s wounds, but did little to help her temper that was close to being an explosion. She demanded reentrance to the tomb, the mission. And with threatening words left hanging in the air, the healers were forced to open a portal to Laryka’s last known location within the tomb. A crack of light, a hum in the air and out stepped Lark looking fit to be tied, pissed off and ready to continue the fight she returns to the “party” only to find the fight over, the mirror shattered and the pathway before them open like a huge maw ready for a feast. She wrapped her cloak of thieves on her shoulders and engaged the hood over her head, then like magic blended in with the shadows as she followed an arm’s length from Dimitri.*

      (I have returned, I hope you all do not mind me coming back into the mission.)

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 1, 2011 at 7:40pm
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      As you step through the swirling vortex of wavering darkness, the last thing you hear is the whimpering voice of Dip, growing weak now, his words barely registering as the inky black surrounds you.

      “You need to know…. the steps of the fathers…”

      And then, you are consumed by dark. For the barest fraction of a second reality seems to cease to exist, and you are left floating in nothingness. However, less than a heartbeat later the world comes crashing back into view, the contrast of nothing to everything jarring your senses.

      You’re in an immense hall, richly decorated with vibrant tapestries hung from marble paneled walls. The room rises up into a massive dome and although you know you are deep beneath the earth, it looks like sunlight is streaming in through the translucent tiled ceiling.

      At first glance the room appears regally adorned but relatively normal; however as you look around you start to get a sense of wrongness from the space. The walls appear to rise up straight, and yet at the same time, they also appear to be sloping in, or away from you. Distance doesn’t seem to be even, with a few footsteps taking you a dozen feet in some places, while in others you have to walk on and on just to get across the room. There is a sense of movement, with solid, unwavering marble pillars, appearing to swerve and sway out of the corner of your eyes. None of these effects are overt, or measurable, and yet whenever you don’t look directly at a feature, it seems to shift and move in your periphery, creating a surreal sense of space and place.

      There are people here, men and women dressed in strange, but obviously richly adorned costumes. The men are wearing bulging suits, with flowing capes and tall awkwardly positioned hats, while the women are clothed in vibrantly colorful dresses that are sliced and slashed in a variety of places to demonstrate the various feminine charms that they each possess. They are all wearing bulky, hanging jewelry, rich gems and glistening chains with diamonds sparkling on fingers.

      These people are milling about the hall, chatting with one another, sampling food from tables laden with delectable delights. Many are dancing, twirling with one another through the center of the chamber. The only thing that every single one of these figures has in common, is that they are completely, and blatantly, ignoring your presence. They don’t even turn to look as you emerge through the vortex and into the hall.

      The walls of the room are lined with massive stone statues, rising up at least 15 feet into the air. They are painted with exquisite detail, with deep rich colors adorning the stoic surface of each. However, every statue is conspicuously missing its head, the towering creation cutting off quite suddenly at the middle of the throat, with no sign of skull or top anywhere to be seen.

      The entire hall seems to be focused on a raised dais near the front. Though the walls appear at casual glance to be straight, the space feels as if it is folding in, funneling all sight and activity forward to that raised platform where a massive, shimmering black throne lays empty. That black obsidian structure rises up, as if formed for a giant, with twisting limbs and spiked protrusions wrapping and melting around one another in impossibly complex patterns of design.

      A moment later, the swirling vortex that brought you here vanishes. You are now standing in a hall that appears to have absolutely no entrances or exits. There are no doors, there are no windows, there is no way to proceed, and no way to escape.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 2, 2011 at 12:44pm
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      *Cloaked in invisiblity, she had no doubts as to why none of the hall’s occupants paid her no mind. Dip’s last words echoed in her mind,”Ya need to know the father’s steps.” Surveying the room and its residents she wondered if the words referred to a dance of sorts or mayhaps to a specific path on the floor. She halted her steps near a decapitated statue, crouched she examines the floor, looking for any specific marks, patterns or differences. She was highly curious but remained focused on the task at hand, peeking and peering through the meandering crowd that seems to be participating in a ball of sorts.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 3, 2011 at 2:55am
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      |Chitose stood there just starring ahead of him. His heart did not beat as he was undead and he did not need to breathe or cause any vital organ movements. Glancing over at the man that was closet to him wearing a bulging sutie his eyes scanned the man looking for weapons that are visible on his body. He then glances to the female that is near him as he shook his head feeling awkward suddenly. His eyes pick up the headless statues as he frowned suddenly getting a bad feeling in his gut. He ground his teeth together as they found themselves perfectly in their opposites. He seemed to have been gone from Dimitri’s sight because he had been laying low so the male could not get a glimps of him for he had been gravely wounded and he had been bleeding. Stanind there he watches Dimitri and Laryka with slightly less interested looks as he glances around for the statues to see if the ones in this room are headless at all.|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 4, 2011 at 7:06am
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      *Swept off her feet by the hands of Dimitri and his graceful footing in the style of a box-step waltz, her only surprise was to the fact that Dimitri found her regardless of being under the veil of invisibility due to her cloak of thieves. With a swaying motion, she followed Dimitri’s lead in the dance and her hood fell from her blonde-topped head, rendering her visage to all those that wish to see. Although in midst of catering to the delicate beat of the music, her eyes remained scanning the floor…not exactly fully convinced that a dance is what was meant by “the father’s steps.” Somewhere in the crowd she could have sworn taking view of Chitose, but Jordana and the elf did not seem to yet come through the portal. Every opportunity was spent in study, the statues, the floor and the rest of the surrounds. She took a nervous moment to speak.*

      “Ah, Dimitri, ya dance divinely….”

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 4, 2011 at 2:34pm
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      The music that fills the air is alien, a tune from another age, a hauntingly beautiful melody with a halting beat that twitches at your musical mind. It is somber, and yet there is a hint of frenetic madness to the strange, sorrowful song.

      As Laryka and Dimitri join the dance, they notice that movement in this chamber feels disjointed. Distance doesn’t follow rules of logic here, and sometimes a few steps carry them a dozen feet, while at other times they seem to move and move but are never able to leave the same spot. This makes for an awkward dance, with their bodies shifting through the sifting distances as they attempt to remain in unison.

      Around them, couples move in perfect harmony, flowing across the dance floor with grace and elegance, heedless of the strange effects of distance and space here. Rather they use those effects to their advantage, moving and flowing from space to space with a languid grace that would be impossible in an evenly dimensional world.

      However, while they move with elegance through and around one another, the couples on the dance floor are completely heedless of Laryka and Dimitri, not sparing so much as a glance at them. One such couple comes twirling in towards them, crossing the entire hall in a matter of moments, moving so quickly that Dimitri is unable to avoid the man’s shoulder slamming hard into his side.

      The blow feels like that of a human, a mortal of flesh and bone smacking into him, and yet there is a force behind that thrust that sends Dimitri sprawling across the dance floor. It is as if reality itself were smacking into him, forcing him aside so that the dancers shoulder could occupy that physical space. Thanks to the strange dimensional trick of distance, Dimitri lands all the way on the other side of the room.

      Meanwhile the man and his partner, completely oblivious to the shattering blow he just dealt Dimitri, continue to twirl and twist their bodies around Laryka for a moment, forcing her to duck and dodge in order to avoid heedless flinging limbs. A moment later the twirling steps of their strange dance carries them to another part of the dance floor.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 4, 2011 at 3:50pm
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      *There was a gasp as she lost her dance partner and he was sent sailing, spawled at some distance due to the disturbing nature of physical existance here. After several dodges and ducks, side steps and back steps, she takes a moment, hard in thought to attempt to memorize the steps of the dancers, mimicking her booted feet in their fluid actions.*
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 5, 2011 at 8:00pm
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      *She carefully practiced the dance steps memorized while heading back through the moving crowd into Dimitri’s direction, occasionally she had to duck or side-step to keep out of the way of these single-minded dancers. It was creepy, like watching everything through a fun-house mirror. The way they moved, the way they were oblivious yet the way they struck force without even blinking an eye…it was all to discomforting.*

    • #41426
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 5, 2011 at 9:41pm
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      Whirling and twirling, spinning and spiraling, the dance floor is a blustery flurry of motion, bodies moving faster and faster as the alien song that fills the air reaches its peak. The men and women dressed in their strange fashions blur back and forth at impossible speeds, aided not by preternatural skill, but by the constantly shifting nature of time and space itself. Arms fling out, legs flash through the air, creating a gauntlet of striking limbs around Laryka and Dimitri that appear out of nowhere, crossing the room in the blink of an eye and then receding well out of range almost as quickly. As the pace grows faster and faster the world grows disconcerting, the unnatural rules of space becoming ever more apparent as the bodies around them fling through gaps and stretches in reality itself.

      And then, with a great burst of drums and horns, the song ends. There is silence.

      The men and women in their strange uniforms look around, their eyes blinking as if they were emerging from a dream. Their sights fall upon the Heroes for the first time now, their faces contorting, first in surprise, and then in rage.

      There is a crashing sound and as you look, one of the men has flung his fellow across the room, sending him crashing into a plate of appetizers.

      Then a sound of slapping flesh as a woman strikes the flat of her hand across her partners face. The man growls, and a moment later his fist is smashing into her nose in a shower of spraying blood.

      Then the entire chamber breaks out in chaos and violence. People begin strangling one another, beating their companions, fists crashing into bones, nails slicing open flesh. There is screaming and howling. Blood begins to stain the white marble floor beneath you.

      And the Heroes are no longer beyond the gaze of these people. Two men rush towards Laryka, murder in their eyes as they leap at her hands extended. At the same moment a woman rushes up behind Dimitri and slams a chair hard into his back.

      Chitose is almost immediately swept up in a flurry of battle, men and women striking at one another and at him, all around, like a cloud of violence. Fists slam into his head and a woman with sharpened nails claws at his face.

      In a matter of moments, the formal ball has degenerated into a violent, blood soaked brawl.

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 5, 2011 at 10:05pm
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      |Chitose frowns as he stares at an advancing man he leaned backwards so the fist misses his face by inches as he lashes out with his own. Dropping down onto his hands he spun around kicking the people away as he felt their fists as they flew down upon him. There was a string of curse words as he came back up. He raises his left and right forearms blocking his face as the people keep beating on him. As each fist falls he struggles to remain calm as memories flashed in front of his eyes. He lashes out suddenly without care of his own will being. His left fist swings around smashing into a man as his right jabs outwards slamming into a girl’s gut as she doubles over his right knee comes upwards smashing it into her face he says in the fight “Get away from me now I will never go back.” He grabs a hold of the female’s hair as he pulls upwards as he delivers swift jabs into face breaking her nose, jaw bone and smashing in her face. He hisses lowly as his vampire fangs extended he picks up the dead female throwing her dead body at the group|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 7, 2011 at 7:27am
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      *For a moment as violence breaks out in the hall, the transistion of moving in dance to hosility caught Laryka ever so briefly like a deer in headlights. Her only thought was to hide, a survival instinct much like a cat. The leather bound blonde blinked from her swift pause and shifted her hood over her head. The cloak of thieves rendered her invisible just before the pair of fellas came within an arm’s length of her. This gave her the possibililty to side step the duo of muderous men and time to withdraw a pair of blades from her knee-highed combat silent steppers to perform the signature move of a rogue….the backstab, of which she attempted simultaniously on both the men that would have proceeded upon her had she not vanished from their sights. Hands engaged, wrapped tightly about the hilts she stabbed forth into the backs of these men hoping for kidney shots as she watched to see if the metal would sink into flesh or if this was just another fecked-up illusion of sorts.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 8, 2011 at 7:51pm
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      Chitose ducks back, the first fist missing him, lashing outwards, his own meaty cudgel crashing into his attackers jaw in a spray of blood.

      A moment later he is wrapped up in a tangled mess of fists and fighters. Blows crash into his skull over and over, but his legs sweep out, causing the crowd around him to come crashing to their knees.

      Then his left fist slashes out and a mans face explodes. His right fist plunges into a woman’s gut, his knee thrusting into her soft features, causing them to shatter in a spray of crimson life fluids. Then he roars with rage, grabbing a woman’s hair in a thick braid in his hands, tugging her into the air. As his other fist smashes into her jaw, he feels a stab of pain slicing through his shoulder. Turning to look, Chitose sees a small retractable knife plunged deep into his shoulder blade. The woman, dangling by her hair in his grasp, has a hand wrapped tight around its hilt.

      The chamber grows darker.

      As the men hurtle towards Laryka she slips the cloak of thieves around her mantel and vanishes. The two men race forward, heedless, just barely missing her side stepped form. An instant later she spins and her knife flashes through the air, the blade piercing piercing flesh once… twice… two bodies crumpling before her.

      The chamber grows darker.

      The room continues to be a flustering fury of violence. Laryka may move silently and unseen, but the violence rages all around her. Fists strike out, without even knowing she is there, legs slip past to trip her, and then, as she is dancing and moving amongst the chaos, a small woman is shoved across the chamber, falling through the shifting dimensions of the space, she crashes into Larykas back. Though she can’t see the woman, still she claws at the air, hissing and growling and spluttering like an animal.

      A chair crashes into Dimitri, splinters spluttering, his form crashing and then… rising. Spikes of shadow shoot out forming long languid tentacles that dart through the room, slamming into legs and organs and causing bodies to crash and crumple.

      With each strike, with each lash, it’s as if the darkness in the room grows more palpable.

      With each death, the air grows colder and more somber.

      With every drop of blood that falls, the light and hope and joy slips and drips from the room, leaving it feeling increasingly empty and morose, as if an evil presence were slipping slowly into the atmosphere.

      One strange thing may stick out in the eyes of the most observant. Though the floor is perfectly level, as the crimson blood spills to stain its pure white surface, the little droplets of red seem to all be flowing in a uniform direction, forward, towards the front of the chamber, towards the massive black throne that dominates the space.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 9, 2011 at 4:04pm
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      *After the double-back stap there was no time afforded her to cheer in satisfaction of accomplishment. Laryka is crashed into from the backside, an unknown woman pushed during the chaos of violence sent Lark in a forwards motion. She is sent into a frenzy of unbalanced footing and lands face down on the soon bloodied floor, hands planted saving her from slapping her face on the marble. It is there she sees the blood traveling like rats behind a pied piper, routing their way towards the ominious black throne at the far end of the hall. She scrambles to her feet, cat-like nimble movements force her to weave through the crowd….threading the needle baby…..she even uses some of the fighting and falling bodies as leverage to keep her momentum into the direction of the dias holding the dark throne.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 11, 2011 at 8:03pm
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      |Chitose grunted as he felt the blade of her dagger sink deep into her shoulder. He swayed slightly as he threw her off of him aiming to hit throw her into a group of men. His eyes seem to lock onto Laryka as he had the dagger sticking out of his shoulder he pulls his katana from its sheathe as he begins to hack and dismember people in front of him as he snarls lowly. His vampire fangs fully extended from the large amounts of blood that was surrounding hi. He glances towards the man that was playing the pipe as he frowns cocking his head to the left as he barely comes to leaning backwards missing a frenzied swing. He brings the sword down slashing the man’s arm clean off, Yelling he yelled to Laryka “What the hell are you doing?!”. He keeps swinging his katana with his right hand as his left arm was useless. The dagger had found home into the mechanical arm that Laryka herself had placed in its joint. He hisses as the air around him fluxed with pure lightning power. The air became dry setting nearby hair on fire as his own was safe for he was sweating. He lashed out with his sword now as it was covered with a red like sheathe that would zap anything it touch frying it to death.|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 12, 2011 at 9:40am
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      *Hearing Chitose’s questionable call in the distance barely over the noise of fighting chaos, she assumes that Chitose had caught sight of her bloodied blades glinting in the light and that was what gave away her location as she was currently rendered invisible from her cloak of thieves. She didn’t even bother looking back to the neko-vamp creature fighting through the throng of crazed dancers…for he would not be able to see her hardened expression. In this particular case she assumed following the blood was more important than killing off the crowd. She noticed Dimitri nearby, allowing him to catch glimpse of the same blades so that he could easily discern her exact location.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 12, 2011 at 2:36pm
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      The air sparks with electric life as Chitose’s catlike form flows through throngs of maddened men, beating and strangling, striking out with blind and frenzied violence.

      His sword swings down, an arm is severed, the empty limb sizzling with the heat of the electric charge.

      A moment later the air screams with the heat of the sizzling voltage, the hair and clothes of those closest to Chitose erupting in flames. Like great living torches their bodies cry out with savage screams of pain. But the violent madness continues as they fling their fire drenched forms at the cat like man, crashing into Chitose over and over again, their flaming limbs seeking to drawn him down into their own fiery deaths.

      Despite the fire, the room grows darker, the air grows colder.

      Dimitri rises into the air, born on steeds of shadow he shoots forward, his dark spikes spewing out in every direction heedless of the death or damage. Men and women fall in great heaps around him, their blood trickling forward to join the great stream which flows naturally towards the frontward throne.

      With each death, the room grows darker.

      Despite his violent thrusts the blind fury of the former dancers has them flinging their bodies at Dimitri over and over. His spikes fly out and impale their forms, but they just keep coming, a portly man dodging a shadow strike, and slamming into him, grubby finger clawing and punching at his flesh. A moment later a tiny screeching woman leaps up, catching Dimitris ankle, clawing at it viciously before sinking her teeth hard into his heel.

      Laryka manages to disentangle herself from the frenzied scratching of the woman flung in her direction, and in so doing catches sight of the blood trailing towards the throne. Wrapped in magical obscurity, she begins to pick her way through the chaos, which is slowly diminishing with each death.

      Her agile feet pick their way around a group of three men battling, and then she just manages to duck under a chair that is flung half way across the room, sent crashing in a spray of splinters against the back of a tall gentleman, who immediately drops like a sack of oats.

      Finally she makes her way to just a few feet before the throne. Here she is distracted, seeing Dimitri starting to pace her. She flashes a knife out from beneath her cloak to try and catch his attention. However, preoccupied with killing, Dimitri sees the knife but not whose hand is holding it. In a burst of violent instinct a shadow spear spews from his darkened form and shoots through the air, headed towards Laryka’s arm.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 13, 2011 at 9:46am
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      *Although her invisibility protects her body from being seen, it does not protect her from physical assaults. Standing there only a hop, skip and jump from the throne where the creek of crimson now travels, her signal to Dimitri….a flash of blade in the darkening room lost her enough time to react and she is scaythed by the shadow spear. She steps backwards, closer to the throne. The hood fell from her head, rendering her visable once again. The blade in her right hand was dropped into a puddle of blood in order to clutch at her wound on the left arm. A cry of anguish is emitted from her pinkened and parted lips, the pain being incredible and something she’s never felt before as the sharpened shadow slices through flesh.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 13, 2011 at 9:42pm
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      |Chitose’s anger kept rising because they were not dying and they seemed to keep appearing from no where. His anger rises even more to the brink as his right sword comes down slashing a man in half as he spins the other hacking the head off of another man. He keeps hacking at the angry men and women with deadly anger and precision able to slash them to pieces with ease but they kept appearing from no where. He was losing his sight or maybe it was from the darkening room. He was unable to tell as his tail swayed back and forth madly to avoid people from grabbing it. He stabs his blades into the ground suddenly as he stands between the two swords. Placing his left and right palm down onto the hilts he hisses lowly. His fangs fully extend from the blood going everywhere. There was a small explosion only around himself that would travel outwards in a shock wave like attack and shove and possible slice nearby crazed people in half|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 14, 2011 at 12:24pm
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      *Passing through the flesh of her arm then onward went the shadow spear of Dimitri. She reigned in her hollers of agony. She had to resheath her blades back into her boots and quickly fish around in her satchel of many pockets to withdraw a roll of gauze. Efficently she winded the gauze around the wound on her forearm, whatever blood she had lost mingled with the thin river of blood already traveling towards the throne. The pain still stung but the initial shock of it was over and passed. Darkness seemed to pour over the small group and the remaining fighting dancers in the hall. She passed on to Dimitri a nod, one that could only mean that she was ok and able to continue. With that nod completed she took a moment to survey around the room, attempting to find Chitose or Jordana whom seemed to vanish but she couldn’t remember when. With her wound bond she retrieved her blades once again for protection, either in defense or to be aggressive with anyone that came near while she continued the last few feet towards the throne.*
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      Permalink Reply by Vutha Tilek Di Uoinota{Ebony} on April 14, 2011 at 12:31pm
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      |ooc- Is it too late to join? If not where would one start?|

    • #41427
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 14, 2011 at 12:51pm
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      (You are welcome to join in. I would suggest reading the first couple of posts, and then the last couple of posts in order to get an idea of where the Heroes are. Narrators posts generally set the stage and will give you information on the appearance of their immediate surroundings. As far as story, you may simply portal in and say you were sent to reinforce the Heroes on this mission. Let me know if you have any questions. )
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 14, 2011 at 12:58pm
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      A massive man collapses against Dimitri and meaty fists pound his face, a stubby finger gouging at his eye, nearly ripping it from the socket before a huge spear of shadow bursts from the warrior’s chest, impaling his insane aggressor.

      Below a frenzied woman bites into Dimitri’s heal, great spouts of acidic blood pouring into her mouth. She gurgles, cackling madly as her fingers claw into his legs, sharpened nails drawing more of the acid which burns down her hand, searing the flesh down to white, clutching bones before a burst of blood explodes from her mouth and she falls backwards.

      A moment later, furious and bursting with acidic blood, the shadow beast roars and hundreds of shadow spikes erupt from the ground, impaling at least a dozen of the maddened dancers that directly surround him.

      A moment of quiet hangs directly around Dimitri as his impaled victims whimper weakly. He calls out across the hall to Laryka and…

      —————————————————————————————————

      A single drop of Laryka’s blood crashes to the floor, mingling with the stream of crimson already making its way towards the throne. In that moment, the dark need is born.

      A second drop of blood, a third. In her own mind’s eye she was always determined to get to the throne, to investigate, but now something else dwells at the back of her thoughts.

      “How finely made… How regal… How powerful I would look sitting in such a place…”

      These are whispers, whispers coming from the blood, now spilled and dropped into the flowing stream of mad men’s lives.

      Immediately the medic’s razor sharp mind snaps the situation back into attention. Almost mechanically she slips gauze from her pack and begins to wrap the dripping wound. Tight. Efficient. Clean and secure she pulls the strap tight and the whispers grow quieter.

      “Still… It is a very finely made throne…”

      Dimitri’s words call out to her and her attention snaps back to reality, sharp, strong. She nods in his direction and then continues with a gazing eye to cross the mere feet that lay between her and the magnificent seat of power.

      ————————————————————————————————-

      Chitose is a whirlwind of death. His anger flares and his blades sweep out, fiery limbs and flame wreathed heads fly, red hot blood spills, and all around him the room grows darker.

      Every strike of blade seems to suck the heat, the warmth, the very color from the air, as if the blood within the crazed dancers is the life blood of the room itself.

      It spills, it darkens, it travels towards the throne.

      Finally, the darkness lights up in a momentary blast of flame and pain that explodes outwards from the feline warrior. Screams are eaten by the roaring rush of fire, claiming the charred lives of all who stand around Chitose.

      As the flames vanish, the room grows darker still, like moving through a cloak of night.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 15, 2011 at 8:57am
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      *Inner turmoil waged war, the conflicting roguish nature combined with the call of the bloody voices versus her slick intelligence reminding her of “teamwork” and the distant calling of Dimitri making reality resurface. She turned to face Dimitri down the way, her wound pulsed with pain underneath the bandaging. She turned to face the throne, moving forward to only an armslength from the majestic seat. She could see the ornate details in the fine craftsmenship. It called to her, it wanted to be touched, caressed, to be sat upon, filled and united with her body. The damn thing sang to her with whispers from the blood. She stared, dazed almost willing to accept the invitation until Chitose lit up the room with his momentary blast of flame. The light emitted from his firey incantation broke the spell of her daze. She whipped around to find him still in battle somewhere near the middle of the hall, panning her gaze she found Dimitri creeping even closer. In the back of her mind….she felt a shout saying….”He wants the throne for himself!!!”*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 17, 2011 at 11:42am
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      |Chitose suddenly sheathed his swords as he had done enough damage to the enraged dancers as he moved his way through the throngs of people now heading towards the throne but it was more of a movement towards Laryka as he glances up to make sure that Dimitri was safe but deep back in his mind he already knew that man was. Glancing around he seemed to be taking in a head count of everyone that was here and everyone that was not. He counted two, but three including himself. He checks down to his torso to make sure that there were not too massive of wounds. A smile spreads across his face as blood of his own rolled down his chest. Turning his gaze now he was starring down at the blood but he was still moving towards Laryka as his nose twitched from all of the massive amounts of blood|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 18, 2011 at 6:52am
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      *She could more feel Chitose’s encroaching movements than see him. The wound on her arm pulsed impatiently as if more blood from her vein wished to join what she’s already lost into the trail of blood that traveled the dias to the throne. Oh, that throne, that majestic piece of furniture. Her mind warned that Chitose as well sought out the throne for himself. For a moment she remained in stasis, paused or halted further movements to slip passed the distance….the inches from her fingers to actually lay hands on the throne. She debated herself. Part of her scolding even the thought of sitting on such while so much needed to be done. The other part of her taunting to feel the absolute power of sitting on the throne, of not allowing Chitose or Dimitri the unexpected honor of gracing the seat. She gave a shake of her head to clear the voices, feeling as if a puppet on strings and now would sooner burn the throne than seat her arse upon it. She detested not having her own free will, the freedom of doing what she wanted, the call of the voices within the blood in furiated her as they continued to entice her to the throne. And although it looked as if her mind was winning the battle, her feet moved of their own accord, her hand stretched out as if to stroke the armrest of the throne, fingers hovered just hairs above actually touching the throne.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 18, 2011 at 3:59pm
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      The majority of the mad dancers have fallen now, lying still or twitching weakly in puddles of blood that stream across the floor as if rushing down the side of a mountain, gushing towards the seat of darkness set at the front of the chamber.

      All around you the room has grown cold, dark. The few entangled groups of violent embrace are hidden in shadows; the muffled sounds of struggle the only evidence of their continued contest.

      A quiet moaning surrounds Dimitri, as his victims hang weak and limp, impaled upon his shadow spears like a forest of death. Down his leg, acidic blood streams from his wounded ankle, the liquid of life dripping slowly into the great gushing beneath him. As it does, his eyes dart forward to the dark throne. Though it is still far, he finds his body moving towards it mechanically, he is drawn to it, almost without thought.

      Weak and fading sounds of gasping pain sound hollow around Chitose, as his victims slowly fade from life. His own wounds gush crimson down his chest and his blood also joins the mix below, mingling with the tainted essence of the mad dancers. In an instant that dark seduction begins to sing its sweet words into his ear, and suddenly, the great obsidian throne calls to him as well.

      Meanwhile Laryka is a mere breath away from touching the smooth black surface of the throne. Though her wounds are bandaged, still the mad whispers of crimson life blood call out to her, enticing her, seducing her, promising dark and terrible wonders, pleasures that are boundless, power that is infinite. Everything she could ever want, safety, knowledge, freedom, it is all within her grasp. All she has to do is reach out and claim it.

      A small part of her mind, the part ruled by reason and logic, notes that the flow of blood which is slowly growing less, doesn’t seem to be soaking into the black surface of the throne, but rather is sluicing beneath it, rushing into a crack that is barely perceptible to any but the most observant of eyes, set just beneath the front lip of the massive chairs base.

      However this part of her mind is small and far away, a distant dalliance of curiosity, engulfed by the massive obsession now growing within her, the need, the desire, and the lust for this throne that threatened to overwhelm every rational thought.

      And then just as the last vestiges of restraint are washed away, the choice is stolen from her in a burst of scratching scathing pain that erupts across her back. A tiny screeching woman slams into Laryka, nails sharpened beyond cosmetic needs slicing through her flesh savagely.

      There is a brief blast of pain and then, suddenly, everything disappears. As they tumble to the ground Larykas hand sweeps out, trying to steady her collapsing form against the black obsidian of the throne itself. The second her curling fingers touch the perfect black surface of the seat, the pain is gone, the fear is gone, and all vestiges of humanity flee. In that one brief moment, Laryka knows the explosive rush of true power shooting through her. In an instant she understands how to control life and death, form and space, speed and time. In that moment all possibilities are open to her, secrets which are impossible to comprehend come pouring into her mind. A dark and infinite power surges through her like a burst of passion exploding within her soul.

      This lasts less than a second. Larykas hand catches at the throne, and then slips, the contact broken. She tumbles across the floor now, rolling through the gushing blood, struggling with the steel sharpened nails of the screeching woman atop her.

      Meanwhile, Dimitri and Chitose approach the throne with little resistance. The few dancers left are wounded or wearied, their attacks quickly and easily repelled by flame or shadow. However with each step, with each drop of blood flowing into the great crimson gush, they feel the dark obsession growing within them. They can feel the need, the desire, the lusting obsession within them.

      As they approach, they look upon one another, a seething jealousy growing in their minds. The whispers grow louder.

      “Only one of you may claim the throne… only one of you will survive…”

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 19, 2011 at 3:17am
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      |Chitose was moving along side of Dimitri. He stares at the throne feeling the urge to touch and sit in it as well as Dimitri but he did not get in and sit in the throne. He flinched a little at the sight of Dimitri being extremely pissed off. He seemed t almost fidget as the large amounts of blood rolled down his chest. He jerked backwards as a dagger flew inches from his neck as he breathed slowly and heavily. He could not e injured by silver. He would kept down if he did. He glances down at the gushing wounds as he closes his eyes as he seemed to be concentrating. He was healing the wound slowly with his vampire abilities. He frowns as his left hand fell tightly into his right hand in a kind of controlled Grip| “Dimitri calm down. . . your going to end up killing me.”
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 20, 2011 at 8:55am
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      *Once Dimitri’s blade sunk into the attacking woman’s head, Laryka could feel the woman go limp. Heavy dead weight pinned her down temporarily until she could roll the dying woman from her own body. She grappled with Dimitri’s blade sticking out from the woman’s head. Blade in hand and crawling closer to the throne while ignorning the bit of pain the dead woman inflicted on her own back, Laryka planned on using Dimitri’s blade as a tool to wedge into the crack she found just under the throne, of which the blood seemed to pour through.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 20, 2011 at 9:56pm
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      An altercation, as Dimitri slashes outwards at his feline companion, a bright crimson gash spreads across Chitose’s throat, adding to his numerous wounds. Each one pours fresh and freely down into the slow waves of death beneath the vampires feat, and as his life joins with theirs, the whispers grow louder, the dark urge grows more powerful. Finally in a burst of will Chitose concentrates his vampiric healing, the gaping flesh of his form closing over, the spill of blood halting.

      Another flash and the self same silver blade flies through the air and slams into the ranting womans spine. She collapses atop Laryka, a momentary burden, easily discarded, and then plundered of the killing knife. Blade in hand Laryka kneels close to the throne, its seductive whisper calling out to her, its words powerful, haunting, luring her to grasp its perfect black surface, hinting at the thrilling trill of ultimate power that could be hers to command.

      Yet still her blade moves and works and pries at the midnight stone, working almost subconsciously with the mechanical efficiency of a surgeon. Specks of black fleck away at the touch of the tip, a sliver of a gap revealing just beneath the front edge of the seat, the crimson life blood spilling down into its hungry thin lipped mouth.

      That is when Dimitri steps from a cloak of hidden shadows, and places himself firmly down into the throne.

      At that moment everything goes black. The light itself seems to die, as you are all left stranded in a sea of nothingness. During this brief moment, Dimitri opens his new eyes for the first time. As he looks out on the chamber, he sees the world not from his own skull, but rather through the eyes of dancers in the room, both those few still living, and the others, lying dead and fallen.

      The light doesn’t return, rather the dancers themselves begin to glow now with a bright ethereal light that fills the chamber with an eerie luminescence.

      Those dancers locked still in battle suddenly break, turning from violence to come and stand before Dimitri.

      Those that lie fallen and dead, stained with their own life blood, now stand. Limbs missing, eyes gouged, bodies slashed and gashed and stained with crimson streaks, they too come and stand before Dimitri, glowing with the eerie white light.

      In that moment Dimitri knows that the entire chamber is his to command. Not only does he have complete control over the bodies and souls of each of the dancers standing before him, but the walls, the floor, the ceiling itself is his to command. Only the Heroes remain beyond his will.

      In a flash of panic Dimitri also realizes that Laryka and Chitose, are trying to kill him.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 21, 2011 at 6:34am
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      *The pain inflicted by the stark, raving mad woman killed by Dimitri’s blade sobered her thoughts, nearly pushing all of the bloody whispers from her mind. The pilfered blade dug into the crack underneath the throne that now was claimed by Dimitri’s body. Darkness fully blanketed the room and in that instant, Laryka sheltered her head with the hood of her cloak of thieve’s rendering herself fully invisible in the darkness. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation of what comes next. With her hand still on the blade she continued to attempt to pry through the crack to find what was underneath regardless of her close….too close of proximity to Dimitri seated upon the throne, with the sharp metal end of the knife she attempted to ride the leverage in the groove of the crack, slowly and as silently as possible to shift from the front of the throne to the side, even the back if the crack was defined enough.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 21, 2011 at 8:58am
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      |Chitose had to be the distraction. He was going to help Laryka and He was hoping to whatever god was here that he would catch onto the signal. He closed his eyes knowing very well that his eyes were useless and would only give his position off to the attackers. Even if Laryka would make noise with the knife on the tomb stone he seemed to make noise himself. He unsheathed his katana as he moved quickly slamming the blade of his katana in the wall’s making a large RINGING sound out so everyone can hear it and it covers Laryka’s attempts to pry open the tomb. He kept this up in case there was any sound. It would sound very much like that of the dagger in the stone. He moved with his eyes closed due to them glowing in the dark with the power of electricity flowing through his body.|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 21, 2011 at 5:31pm
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      *Nimble and agile, she easily avoided Dimitri’s foot both by ease of skill and being invisible helped too. She continued to edge the blade into the cravase, working deftly and as swiftly as possible in tune to the noises that Chitose was creating as a cover for her. She remained calm although the situation seemed desperate. She did not feed her panic although the odds were not in her favor. Diligently she set to task hoping this was the proper puzzle piece to be messing with.*

    • #41428
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 21, 2011 at 11:19pm
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      As the bleak and penetrating darkness settles over the chamber, you feel the air grow colder. And then in a flash of ghostly light the broken bodies of the dancers begin to glow, a hundred eerie torches shambling across the room to stand before their new master seated on his obsidian throne.

      The evil power flows into Dimitri, and his face becomes terrifying, his eyes fiery with a fierce madness that seems to bore through reality itself. He seams to grow in stature then, man and throne suddenly rising up impossibly tall, looming imperiously and obliviously above the now diminutive form of Laryka, cloaked in invisibility below.

      The air fills with the clang, clang, clang, of Chitose’s blade slamming against the stone of the wall. But all that Dimitri hears is the sound of whispers, silently seductive whispers, calling to him, flattering him, telling him of glory and power and always reminding him of his friends who seek to kill him.

      With an unspoken command Dimitri sends the glowing dancers charging after Chitose. They surround him in a thick mob, clawing at him, striking at him, their broken bloodied bodies missing limbs and eyes and bleeding glowing translucent blood.

      One woman dashes out at him, nails aimed for his face, a larger man slams towards him next, but a moment later there are dozens of the broken creatures hurtling themselves heedlessly at him one after the other. As they attack, the vampire can feel the very walls of the chamber slamming into him, cutting off his escape, tripping him, and then flinging him to his attackers.

      Meanwhile Laryka works diligently at the base of the throne. As Dimitri’s foot strikes out she dodges deftly, only to slip back to her work a moment later, the blade of her knife finding purchase in the small crevice between seat and floor.

      She pulls on the blade, trying to dislodge the throne but instead, a large chunk of black flecking rock material crumbles at her knifes touch, revealing a small hole gaping down into infinite darkness beneath the massive chair.

      As the fleck of stone falls away, Dimitri feels as if a knife has scored a large gash in his thigh.

      Further efforts have similar effects, the material of the throne seeming brittle, like poorly set clay, until there is a hand sized hole peering up at Laryka from beneath the seat.

      Meanwhile, each fleck and scrape, and scuff of knife against the throne is like a dagger slicing flesh in Dimitri. He has no idea where its coming from, he can’t know its Laryka set invisibly near his dangling feet, all he can do, is feel the panic of paranoia grow stronger in his mind.

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 24, 2011 at 12:27am
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      |Chitose was ready and waiting for them to come at him. As soon as the woman came near him he seemed to spin around at the exact moment as he does a back flip in a clean execution, the toes of his steel toed boots would slam into her chin possibly knocking her backwards. As soon as the fat man would rush and go to tackle him he lands onto the fat man’s shoulders as he drops down onto his knees as he jerks his knees to the right snapping the man’s neck the sound of a breaking neck fills the room as he does a back flip suddenly as if some force from no where else slams into his body sending him into the swirls of attacking dancers. He leaps to his feet pushing his right hand outwards in a claw form as his left hand came back to his chest. As soon as someone comes near he pushes out with his left hand slamming it into a nearby man’s chest pushing him away. The right hand goes outwards punching someone in the face. He drops down onto the ground using his left hand to balance himself as he kicks outwards with a double booted kick shoving another person away. He snarls as the air fluxates seeming to dry once more causing possible hair spray to light a fire. Someone’s claws slash across his face sending blood everywhere as he hisses loudly as the air suddenly dries and crackles with a mixture of anger and pain|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 25, 2011 at 7:30am
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      *Constantly keeping an eye on the situation while digging Dimitri’s blade into the outline under the throne, the only detail she seemed to have missed were the wounds produced on Dimitri’s form while chips of what appeared like black marble were flecked from the throne’s pedestal. Chipping away, digging through and dragging a line to form a suitable square….this whole process stopped when Laryka heard the approach of some angry dancer baring a full forced kick in her direction. She rolled from the throne, to behind it and still under the power of invisibility. It was a good thing she rolled away from her work station, the second attacker looked like he could snip Lark into salad fixings. She tucked the blade under her cloak, crouched and waited….biding her time. She has already followed the whole circumference of the throne with that blade, perhaps she could push that magificent seat over and de-throne Dimitri….not only to protect them….but to touch it….perhaps one last time.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 26, 2011 at 7:23pm
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      Chitose sees the woman approaching, glowing with ethereal light, and as she does he leaps into the air, his body arcing acrobatically as his feet slam out to strike her in the chin. Her head snaps back and her face explodes in a shower of glowing blood as her form falls back.

      A moment later he leaps atop the large bulk of the next attacker, his legs wrapping around the man’s skull, his body jerking violently causing the head to whip to the side with a loud crack of spinal bone crunching under the stress.

      Then he is thrust down into the heavy melee of the mad dancers. His claw slashes to the left, slicing into someone’s chest as his fist crashes right, shattering another attacker’s face.

      Only…. The attackers do not die.

      The tall glowing man grabs Chitose’s clawed hand, which is embedded in his chest, and pulls the feline vampire closer to him. As Chitose crashes forward his attackers hands slash out towards his eyes. A second later the man he just punched comes up behind him and begins pounding on the vampire’s skull. Then amidst the chaos of the moment he catches site of the woman he just kicked, her face nothing but a bloody mask as she leaps at him, her sharpened nails digging into his ankles.

      Chitose fights on bravely but every blow is absorbed and ignored. Every strike, no matter how hard or deadly, results only in the breaking of their bones, not in the felling of his enemies, enemies that are growing thicker and thicker around him… even as the walls of the chamber close in around him, seeking to crush him beneath their stony weight.

      —————————————————————————————————————————————————————

      Meanwhile a silent struggle continues as Laryka strikes at the base of the throne, every stab of her knife chipping larger pieces of obsidian material, every stab of her knife like a thrust directly into Dimitri’s over grown chest.

      With a quiet grunt of effort Laryka puts the full force of her body into a downward stabbing motion and in her enthusiasm a huge black chunk of the great chair shatters from the base, thousands of tiny flecks disappearing into the now gaping hole beneath. Pain explodes throughout Dimitri’s body, like a thousand needles slamming down hard into his flesh. Beneath him, the throne begins to waver unsteadily on its rapidly shrinking base.

      This finally draws the eyes of the dancers, and a dozen of them break off from the attack, moving swiftly to the source of the chipping and striking. The first one to reach the base of the throne is the woman with the shattered face. Her dainty foot slams outwards, and crashes through the air. Laryka dives backwards at the last moment and the attacker’s leg misses by barely an inch, her toes trailing along the invisible fabric of the thieves’ cloak.

      Two more dancers, both large, bulky individuals, now come charging up from behind, crashing into the woman and sending all three smashing into the throne itself.

      The second they touch the pure black obsidian of the massive chair, all three dancers disappear.

      Meanwhile the incessant whispering has now become a roar of panicked fury which fills Dimitri’s senses.

      “You must kill them, kill them, kill them or they will kill you. Kill Chitose. Kill Laryka. Kill them all now!”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 27, 2011 at 6:32pm
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      *Ever aware of the increasingly dangerous situation, hordes of crazed dancers under Dimitri’s instruction coming alive to serve the purpose of dealing out deal to Chitose and herself. She stabs Dimitri’s blade into the crevice, there it gleams destructively. Missing the pair of thuggish dancers coming in her direction, she sidles away still under the guise of invisibility. Dimitri’s stamping of feet gives her an idea and she skirts around the base of the throne. She bends, and reaches and grasps upon the prone ankles of Dimitri. She pulls with all her strength to dismount Dimitri from the throne, most assuredly unbalancing her enough as she struggles backwards to be swept off her own feet.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 27, 2011 at 7:06pm
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      |There was a low snarl as his Kimino was covered in blood as he was sliding and avoiding constantly striking and back handing enemies away. He hears Dimitri scream as he bellows back “Laryka keep stabbing” With the moments distraction a nearby dancer slashes his face causing more blood to flow down from his face. He then seems to grown angrier as he flew backwards suddenly as he did a back flip attempting to get up and over the group. As he flew backwards he landed on the ground with his right foot bent forward as his left was planted “Laryka eyes now!” |with these words were yelled as he brought his left and right hand forward slamming the palms together. When he was bringing his arms around there was what looked like an electrical coating over the palms and with the impact the coating seemed to suddenly be blasted forward in a shock wave. It would fly forward directly towards the group of spiral dancers it might zap some of them to death but with the impact there was a bright flash almost like a flash bang that seemed to light the entire room up burning shadows into nothingness as his own eyes were closed though it felt his eyes were being burned. He attempted to blind Dimitri|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on April 28, 2011 at 8:44pm
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      The dark voice continues to dominate Dimitri’s mind, his own consciousness, his personality, falling farther and farther away the longer he sits on the throne. The painful lashes which strike out against him with each slice of Larykas knife only serves to increase the sense of panic and urgency fueling the madness that pulses within him. His mouth opens, and violent commands burst forth shaking the very walls of the chamber.

      Meanwhile Chitose dances amongst the dead, beaten corpses coming at him relentlessly. His sword slices a skull from its throat, and yet the headless man continues forward. His blade separates an arm from its shoulder, and the fallen limbs crawls across the stony ground to latch at his ankles. He swings and swipes and roars and fights and yet they just keep coming.

      At the same time Laryka moves gracefully, invisibly, untouched and unseen amongst the glowing dancers. They have converged now on the gap in the throne and are concentrating there efforts there, hacking and slashing at thin air as Laryka cleverly stands back, biding her time.

      Then in a rush of power and fury Dimitri screams, and the floor erupts with hundreds of deadly spikes.

      Chitose leaps in the air, his back flip allowing him to just narrowly avoid being completely impaled on one of Dimitri’s spikes, but falling backwards behind the crowd of dancers he slams into yet another one of the deadly poles, the spear shooting through is right thigh, effectively pinning him to the spot.

      The spikes narrowly miss Laryka, but two of them shoot up side by side directly behind her, just as a mad bleeding woman races past her, shaking her head wildly, droplets of blood spewing in every direction. Backed up against the stately spikes Laryka is unable to avoid the flecks of crimson splattering across her invisible cloak, making her look like a mass of tiny red stars hovering in the air. Luckily in the dim light of the dancers glowing bodies, Dimitri doesn’t see her immediately, and so the spluttering blood woman passes by, leaving Laryka undetected.

      As the crowd of dancers turns to move en masse towards the spike captive body of Chitose, the vampire raises his hands to his chest, and then in a burst of power shoots an immense wave of electrical energy directly into them.

      There is a flash of blinding light, although Dimitri’s eyes are unaffected, being more magical than mortal now. As this brilliant illumination fades, you can see the bodies of the dancers that Chitose had just struck with the electrical charge. They are charred and shivering, their clothes smoking and tattered. Several of them are on fire, their robes, their hair, smoldering with amber flames, making them look even less human as they march mechanically forward.

      Laryka, warned ahead of time by Chitose manages to hide her eyes behind her cloak, and thus avoids the blindness as well. However the flash of light makes the splattered crimson specks on her cloak more visible, and suddenly, there are at least a dozen glowing dancers racing across the chamber towards her as well.

      Reacting to the blinding light Dimitri slams his massive feet downward and the entire chamber begins to shake.

      Chitose, still stuck through the thigh by an angled spike falls as the quake hits, his flesh tearing through the spear, muscle ripping, and blood spewing, as he collapses on the ground, his left leg now largely useless, as the dancers who are still standing form an angry circle around his prone form.

      Three dancers lead the others, closing in on Laryka. Then as the quake hits all three go tumbling, as the earth sends Laryka herself flying through the air, crashing to the earth near Dimitris feet. In the fall the hood of her cloak flings backwards, revealing her to the entire chamber. With a grunt of fury her hands snap out wrapping around one of Dimitri’s enormous ankles. Then she pulls with all of her might.

      Dimitri is massive, and Laryka looks like a child pulling on her father’s leg. The huge man doesn’t budge even an inch as she throws all of her strength into the effort.

      However the throne, already off balanced, with a broken base chipped thin by Larykas efforts, groans slightly as its occupant is tugged at. The massive chair wobbles for a moment, and then comes crashing forward.

      As the obsidian material slams into the floor, Dimitri’s massive body is tossed into the air, immediately shrinking back to normal as he collapses on top of Laryka. The chair itself shatters at the impact, crumbling into a huge pile of black stone that splatters in every direction.

      The glowing dancers stop what they are doing, and then one by one, they collapse, crumbling into the broken piles of corpse that they truly are.

      As they fall their light fades. The room grows dark.

      The whispers are gone; the gnawing need, the dark call. There is silence in the chamber.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 29, 2011 at 7:23am
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      *She is stunned after all that has taken place, the whirl of activity from the chipping away of the throne’s base, avoiding her accosters, Chitose and his lightening bright light, the floor spikes, the hellish ache in her body as she pulled at Dimitri without success until at some moment the throne heaved and Dimitri was thrown as well as she. After her body crashes, her head slams to the floor, there was a blackness that took over her sight and her breath was expelled forcefully from her lungs as Dimitri’s body topples her, pinning her down with his weight. Moments past before she regained consciousness. When eyes were opened, the room was blanketed in both darkness and silence, except for the breathing patterns of herself, Dimitri lain atop her and Chitose somewhere in the background. She moans softly, her body racked with pain, and she sees stars floating in her vision as it attempts to clear. The smell of Dimitri was unmistakable and he smothered her, she spits his hair from her mouth….or could be her own hair for that matter. Quietly she speaks, breaking up the buzz of silence that covered the room.*

      “Dimitri….heya fella, I do nah feck on the first date….so roll offa me.”

      *She returns to humor to fight off those negative emotions of fear, panic and uncertainty. She swallows dryly and promises herself a swig of scotch as soon as she is relieved of Dimitri and she can stand on her own two feet.*

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on April 29, 2011 at 11:31pm
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      |Chitose was begining to grow angry and pissed off with such things that did not seem to be dying no matter what was happening. A low snarl rises up his lips as he stares down at the spike that was sticking him out of his thigh, A grunt almost mistaken for a scream resonates from his mouth as he falls down from the massive strike tearing through his leg muscle. He stares down at the massive hole that was in his leg as he glances up at the dancers that did not move or attack him they just seemed to be standing there. He just sits there breathing slowly| “I guess. . . . It has come to that time now huh? Smiling widely he is stuck on the ground as he props himself up on his elbows as he was hoping his distraction for Laryka worked. There was a click sound as he rolled two smoke cannisters off of his vest as they rolled through the crowds. The gas was aimed to blind the creatures and cause them to burst into tears and blind them causing their eyes to explode in their sockets taking their ability of sight away all together.|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on April 30, 2011 at 9:53am
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      *Once Dimitri removed his solid weight from her, she exhaled in relief. Though with Chitose recent explosion of smoke bombs her eyes watered and burned in the darkness, the scent filled her nostrils and she choked, filling the silence of the dead chamber they were in now.*

      Oh gawds….what the blazin’ hells was that….?

      *She was slow in recovering from the gas that Chitose released in the air. She rolled to her stomach and crawled to where the hole under the toppled throne was, hanging her head down in an attempt to breath some fresh air.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 1, 2011 at 1:33pm
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      There is silence in the chamber, silence and darkness.

      The corpse like dancers have all collapsed in heaps of death, and the air is thick with the acrid smell of Chitose’s smoke grenades.

      The simple application of a torch or flashlight will brush back the inky night, revealing heaps of broken, shattered bodies, and a floor stained with a trail of blood that leads forward, to the great gaping hole where the throne once stood.

      The whispers have gone quiet, and the lack of life, the lack of noise, and the lack of action contrast with the frenetic chaos of just a few moments earlier, making the chamber seem empty and forlorn.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 3, 2011 at 6:45am
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      *She hung her head in the massive hole left behind from the toppled throne, taking in as much dank air as possible…anything was better than breathing in the smoke-filled stench….thanks to Chitose. Once the eye-burning and eye-watering had subsided she sat up on dias and in the pitch dark room called out.*

      “Hey!….ya fellas still alive in here? Could use some light ya know….me thinks we’ve gotta climb down this hole…”

    • #41429
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 3, 2011 at 2:49pm
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      “Hmm, indeed….let us just give up now since thing seem to be rollin’ in the more dangerous direction, aye?”

      *She was frustrated and perhaps snapped out at Dimitri for that fact.*

      “Well, we gonna go down one at time….o’ what?”

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 3, 2011 at 7:56pm
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      |Chitose came up from the mass of bodies as he was covered in blood as well as covered in equally amount of wounds. He smiled a little as he staggered forward lurching almost. He spits up blood as he whipes it away with the back of his hand as he breathes out though it is hard with the smoke everywhere| “Hey Laryka do you have any gauze?”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 4, 2011 at 7:13am
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      *She digs into her satchel of many pockets and pulls out two items….a small jar of healing salve and a roll of gauze. Both of which were handed over to Chitose, even in the dark though Lark did almost stumble. From her satchel she fished out one more thing, a coil of rope from on of the many secret magic pockets that make the satchel light to carry. She drops the coil of rope to the floor with a thump.*

      “Are either one o’ ya gonna but o’ lil’ light on the situation o’ am I forced to salvage for material to make o’ torch? We can nah sit up here and get our job done, ya know.”

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 4, 2011 at 6:13pm
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      The chamber is silent and empty, piled with the bodies of the slowly rotting dead. The floor is stained crimson, the air is still and dark.

      There is no way back. There are no doors, there are no windows. There is only the great gaping darkness of the hole standing beneath where the terrible throne once stood.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 5, 2011 at 4:31pm
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      *She grumbled to herself as Dimitri set off through the dark hole in the floor. She proceeded to tie one end of the rope to the toppled throne and shot the loose end down the hole, knowing full well that great throne might slide some when she began to decend into the darkness through the hole. A flurry of curses were issued forth in the darkness, whispered but none the less she shimmied down that rope. After a few inches she could feel the slack in the rope tighten and then heard the great throne drag inches across the floor. At this point she was thankful to be a petite woman, though she did not know how far into the darkness she would make it before she ran out of rope.*…

      “When ya get to the bottom….light o’ match o’ somthing Dimitri….so I know how far I mayhaps have ta jump.”

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 7, 2011 at 3:06am
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      |Chitose was wrapping the gauze around his knuckles as he follows Laryka to the throne as he mumbles something grateful of her help. He ties it so there is some gauze left as he stuffs it into his pocket. He turned cocking his head to the right as he watches her disappear into the darkness as he whispered to himself| “Blind faith gets you no where but death.” |He then leaned forward so his feet were going down first as he crosses his left and right hand were an X on his chest. Closing his eyes he loved the feel of the air flying through his hair as realizes there is a rope. His right hand just out as his feet barely miss the head of Laryka as he hisses. Due to the momentum he slammed into the wall with a THUD. Small bits of dust might rain down on her as he smiles a little| ” Sorry Larya!”
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 7, 2011 at 7:58am
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      “Ah piss offa!”

      *She quipped back quickly as Chitose launched himself down, she ducked her head to the side as he by-passed her…..too uncomfortably close could have dislodged her from the rope had he been a couple inches closer. Then there was the dust, littering her head and making her sneeze.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 9, 2011 at 1:02pm
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      (I apologize for the delay in my response. I will make certain to be more prompt with future updates.)
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 9, 2011 at 1:25pm
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      Dimitri falls into darkness.

      A moment later, Laryka follows. The throne is shattered but her rope finds purchase wrapped around a nearby table and as she descends, the table does scuttle across the floor, threatening to clog the hole. Just before it does, Chitose leaps in blind, arms crossed, eyes closed.

      As Chitose drops to the surface below, the table that Laryka was using as an anchor crashes into the hole, lodging in it, leaving the rope dangling in the air, a ready escape if necessary.

      You land on something hard and uneven, stone polished smooth beneath your feet. There is no need for match or light here, as illumination seems to be emanating from the very air, revealing that the surface below you is actually a stone sarcophagus, stained crimson with layers of blood from above. The figure of a man, a tall man, a man with dark features and terrible eyes is carved into the white stone, which is set with runes that grow with a bright, blessed light.

      Around you there are statues, broken, crumbling, chipped and dismantled figures; stone guardians with cracked but familiar faces. One of them is Daloki, her right arm missing. Another is clearly Raelin though the left half of her form has fallen in. Yet another has the face of Elexin, though there are large weathered holes riddling his stony stoic features. These are friends, Heroes, people of the Tavern. Twenty familiar faces, broken and crumbling, surrounding the bloodstained coffin you rest upon.

      You do not see your own faces amongst the statues grouped around you.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 9, 2011 at 2:18pm
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      *Once reaching solid footing from her decent from the rope, she looked around through studious eyes, examining every detail and every crack. She seemed to be almost holding her breath in this small containment room with this tomb glowing of blessed light. Oddly enough she leans against the sarcophagus, a delicate digit from her left hand traces over the features of the man carved in stone, trying to read what the artist attempted to express with this horrid visage of a man.*
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 11, 2011 at 6:35am
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      *She looked over to Dimitri from her perch, sitting on the edge of the tomb. Her glance was studious, taking in all that was revealed in the glowing blessed light. She made a mental note of all the stone figures she recognized. Her voice came out as a low whisper as the deadly silence of the tomb clung to the dank air.*

      “We had ta bury through our own graves to get here….yet none o’ these faces be ours. That either be o’ forboding omen for us now…..o’ for those represented in statues, Dimitri. Can ya read these runes? Imma gonna guess this tomb be majikally sealed….but me thinks that what we search for mayhaps be within…..and me thinks we can nah afford to waste any more time.”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 11, 2011 at 9:32am
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      *Oddly enough….two things happened in this brief moment of time. She stood frozen for a second….as she’s never truly been addressed as “Mrs. Fionnbharr” before…it was strange to hear herself called that, though she did not exactly mind, it was simply foreign to her ears. Then as if Devil Donnagan himself was summoned by the mere mention of the “Fionnbharr” name….she felt his presence through the mental bond they share. Her body shivered knowing he was near. Every fiber in her being, every nerve ending responded to close proximity. Then she heard him call out her name from the whole they had previously climbed down through. Donn’s voice calling her name sent a shocking heat to course through her body. He was here and regardless of how serious the situation was, her mood had shifted and she became more positive of the success of this mission with him here. She was awash in energy, feeling unstoppable and sensual at the same time. Her voice rang up from her seat on the tomb and through the hole above in response to Donn.*

      “Nah one here but us chickens…..bawk, bawk, bawk bawwwwwwk! “

    • #41430
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 11, 2011 at 8:55pm
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      Dimitri slips from the surface of the carved sarcophagus and strides to the tattered statue of Daloki. His hand stretches out to touch the weathered stone of her face…

      And in a flash a vision fills his mind. He is far away, in another world, a world he’s seen, in a chamber that he has stood in before. There he sees the living Daloki… but it isn’t really her… no this person is more real, the colors and the lines of her face more vibrant. She lies upon a stone table, eyes closed, her breath soft. Her skin is lined with dark black splotches of tainted disease…

      And then in a breathless moment he is back, standing once more before the cracked and weathered statue. Daloki’s stony face now seems to be wearing a mask of sorrow.

      Meanwhile Laryka stares at the harsh features of the man carved into the sarcophagus, her fingers trailing over blood stained material which is so smooth that she cannot even make out the impressions where the runes were carved into it. It is like a giant seemless piece, unbroken. As her hand traces along it she feels something dark spring unbidden into her mind. An evil inclination akin to what she felt when confronted with the call of the throne above. A whisper… sensual… calling… begins to ghost across the surface of her mind.

      At that moment three things actually happen. First, there is a brilliant blast of white light which suddenly bursts to life in the ruins carved seamlessly into the stone coffin, illuminating through the press of crimson red, causing the entire chamber to explode with its righteous glow.

      Simultaneously Donnagan’s voice shatters the air, bellowing down through the open floor, roaring Laryka’s name.

      And while Laryka may be frozen in shock at that moment, she is also instantaneously freed from the dark enchantment that was calling to her. Even the memory of it is gone as she sees her beloved husband drop down through the ceiling to join her below.

      While Donn and Lark unite, Dimitri kneels over the great sarcophagus. His eyes trace over the runes, trying to understand, trying to comprehend… and there is some glimmer of translation that blooms within his mind. He can tell that they speak of protection, of wards, of a safeguard against opening the lid.

      Believing this to be no more than wards against grave robbers he sets to, pushing shards of shadow from his form and plying them against the lid of the coffin. He pushes, hard, and feels it give only just barely.

      “DO NOT OPEN THE SARCOPHAGUS!”

      The voice that booms through the air is female, it is an aged voice and yet it carries with it a sense of command.

      A moment later an ancient woman steps from between the statues. Clothed in silver to match her long flowing locks, her face is awash with deeply lined wrinkles, making it look almost as if a corpse were standing before you. And yet when you look into the dark blue of her eyes, you are awestruck by the sense of power you gleam there. This is a creature of glorious energy, of ancient magic, the magic of life, of existence itself. She wears it like a mantle draped across her frail shoulders.

      At first there is righteous fury written into her lined features but then she looks around, those piercing eyes taking in each and every one of your faces. Then with a gasp, she falls to her knees.

      “You have come at last…”

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 12, 2011 at 8:42am
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      |There was the sound of the falling neko, air rushing past his cest gear, the wind going through his torn and tattered armor. He hit the ground with a THUD. He shook his head as he was glancing around the area. He just stares down now at the sarcophagus, he let out a soft sigh as he took a step back as stares at the stone guardian things that resemebled the people he knew. He did not feel anything, not even a ping of jealously when he did not see a sing statue of himself. He glances towards Laryka and Dimitri making sure that they are fine as he crouched and rose once causing his knees to POP. Glancing over at Laryka as she was clucking like a chicken a smile crosses his face as he says more to himself.| “Even in these hard times there is still good times, He suddenly leapt as he heard the booming voice scream at Donn for even touching it. His hand went to the hilt of his katana instantly as he was getting ready to fight if he had to. He moves towards the lady as he crouches down next to her as he then sticks a knee to the ground to get more comfortable as he stares at her with worry riddled eyes| -sorry for such a late response-
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 12, 2011 at 9:02am
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      *The reunion with Donn was cut short due to the main cause of business, though she had some smart arse reply ready to rip from her pinkened lips it vanished at the time of the bright flash of holy light, the booming command demanding the tomb remain closed and the appearance of the old woman enrapt in majikal energies. She stole a moment to count heads and make sure their party was secure before giving her full attention to the old woman that dropped to her knees. Without even a second though, she scurries to the old woman to pull her gently up from the stone cold floor.*

      “We neither deserve such submittal from ya nor do we have time ta discuss why’ve ya done such. Please rise and tell us whatcha know….what we have ta do to save the worlds against Wyrm.”

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 13, 2011 at 11:52am
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      The ancient woman’s bowed head rises, and she looks upon each of you with a sad smile. She is old, and frail, and withered, and yet as she stands you can see that beyond the pale and tattered flesh, she burns with a ferocious intensity, the energy of life itself coursing through her veins like a holy breeze.

      She turns her powerful gaze upon Dimitri and simply nods, his questions fluttering by, his apology accepted with a simple nod.

      And then she focuses on Laryka, her eyes orbs of blue intensity set within a skeletal face, piercing and puncturing all defenses to see directly into the thief’s soul.

      ”That one there” She raises a bony finger to gesture at the stone sarcophagus. “He believed as you once did. That the Chaos Wyrm was his enemy.”

      She begins to circle you now, her commanding gaze falling from one to another, her voice sounding as if it were coming from a million miles away.

      ”Ar’Elis, Lord of Patterns, Slave of Idh-yaa.”

      A tender twinge of anguish dances through a voice that fills the air with command and power, giving the almost alien sound a touch of humanity.

      ”And you…” She stops her pacing, staring for a brief moment of flash fire into each of your eyes. “You are the Heroes, the great compromise, sent as the balance to his folly.”

      She resumes her steady pacing, trailing near the stoic statues now, her hand alighting every now and again to cup or trace a weathered visage, her hands caressing the stone features as if they were old friends.

      ”The power of the Heroes is failing… the corruption has become too much… You have been taken from the world of the dreamers, and brought here through trial and terror… To be tested.”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 13, 2011 at 1:03pm
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      “Dun pretend to comprehend me stance in this war o’ the Gawds, old woman.”

      *Lark’s tone had turned hard and she stood with hand hand poised on her hip in defiance. Her gaze at the old woman matched the pointed stare with one of her own.*

      “The shadows be just as important as the light, so Iva come ta learn in me few years o’ meanderin’ through life. Me thinks the only way ta truly defeat Wyrm be in restorin’ the balance o’ things, aye? Wyrm has only made himself the enemy because o’ the distortions o’ reality forced upon us. Bring on ya’r test, old woman. For me time be limited by mortal breaths. Many suffer and die while we stand here and chit chat ’bout the foolhardiness o’ dead kings.”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 13, 2011 at 3:05pm
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      “Really? Dimitri? Ya gonna play the role o’ the hyprocritical peck….demandin’ silence o’ me under the guise o’ lettin’ the ol’ woman speak….but then ramblin’ on ta ya’r own soliloquy full o’ questions and comments that bar the woman’s explanations further? Puleeze, ya double standards do nah work here. Ya’r questions be just as important as mine….as we be on the same team, aye? havin’ similiar objectives, aye?”

      *She gave a vexing glare to Dimitri….as she really detests being told what to do, Donn of all people can attest to such.*

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 14, 2011 at 3:46pm
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      “Silence, Dimitri….let us give the floor to the ol’ woman, shall we?”

      *She mocked, while appearing somewhat satisfied. She gave a gentle elbow nudge to Donn, a crisp smirk, a delighted wink then pinched her pinkened lips shut and looked on to the woman expectantly.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 15, 2011 at 10:12am
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      As the Heroes squabble, there is a crashing sound, a noise that echoes, not only in the hall but in your hearts as one of the statues, a faceless thing whose visage had fallen years before, collapses, crumbling into a pile of rubble that spews the air with a cloud of stony dust.

      The ancient woman stops, staring, and rather than command or strength you see sorrow there. A deep despair. The weight of eons rests upon her shoulders, and in her eyes you can see the flame of her fierce hope begin to flicker as she watches you.

      The cloud of dust hangs like a halo behind her. As she speaks, the words are slow and quiet.

      “You are the ones that will make the choices. You are the ones that will determine the outcome.”

      She gestures now, waving to the space beyond the fallen statue. You can see a hallway, long and straight, it branches off over and over again every few yards.

      “The labyrinth beyond is a symbol of the turmoil within yourselves. Every test… every trial, is designed to make you stronger.”

      She steps towards you now, and then through you, brushing past you to stand beside the stone sarcophagus. Her fingers tracing a line along the terrible visage of the king, carved into its cover.

      “The High King, made the wrong choices. And he became a terrible thing.”

      She looks up now and the resolve has returned, burning like holy fire in her piercing blue eyes.

      “But I believe that you can do better. Your story is not yet over.”

      She takes one last long look upon the face of the king, and then steps away, returning to stand before the open hall revealed by the fallen statue.

      “This tomb is a prison for the ever living king Ar’Elis. In ancient days he made pacts with the great evil beyond existence, and in return he was given the power of eternity itself.”

      “He lives even now, defeated by the power of the Heroes, locked in slumber beneath stone while the creature of his corruption stalks the halls of the never ending labyrinth, searching for him. United they would be a force of terror that could shatter this tomb and tear a hole directly through reality to the realm of Void.”

      “The trial is symbolic. The corruption lies within us all, each of you as much as the High King himself. But your story is not yet over, and you can still defeat it.”

      She takes a deep breath before she continues. “However the choices are yours to make.”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 16, 2011 at 10:39am
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      *The old woman’s word rang like a hollow echo through Lark’s mind….choices, tests, trials and terror. This was the moment fairy tales were made from, legends, myths, stories past down from generation to generation. She was far removed from superstitions of the old country but something within her tugged, pulled and nearly carted her off. But just before her feet went into action, she pulled up in front of Donn. Her face drawn serious but her eyes glittered of the true nature and depths of her feelings for the man. Her voice drew low as she took his hands into hers.*

      “Whatever happens from here on out Donn, know that I would suffer me life all o’er again….only to have ya in me final moments….whatever they be. I love ya, me Devil and nah amount o’ evil can change that.”

      *Her proclaimations were said and they were losing time with every moment passing. She reached up and deposited a soft kiss where it belonged before turning to face the halled maze before them.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 16, 2011 at 7:02pm
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      The ancient woman does not move as Donnagan approaches to rant and rave at her. The only reaction she gives is a small sad smile, her eyes still blazing with power, the aura around her emanating with a soft, life blessed touch.

      ”It is up to you to believe my words or not. My task here is not to convince you of my veracity. I am here because the great compromise allows me to be here. It allowed me to send poor Dip to lead you through the first set of trials. It allows me to tell you of your danger, so that you should not be sent forth as blind sheep. And… it has allowed me to offer you each, one last boon.”

      She steps away now, allowing Laryka to retrieve her riled lover as she moves to stand before the sarcophagus.

      Reaching into her robes, she removes a tiny pair of white dice, which she places upon the cover of the coffin. “These, are for Laryka Dior-Fionnbharr, with them every throw shall find luck.”

      She reaches into her robes again, this time producing a small clear light bulb, which she places next to the dice. “For Dimitri Sagesson, to reveal that, which is otherwise hidden.”

      Once more she reaches into her robes, this time producing a glass lens which she places in line atop the coffins lid. “This is for Chitose Tsuru, that he may find understanding where knowledge fails him.”

      Her spindly fingers dive once more into her robes, and this time she produces a simple shell. “And finally, for Donnagan Fionnbharr, so that he may be able to discern truth, from lies.” Her eyes flash to the man for a moment, before she steps back from the coffin, leaving the items resting atop it.

      ”You may choose to take these boons or not. You may choose to use them… or not. You may even choose to stand here with me, watching the power of the Heroes crumble, as the great beast stalks ever closer.”

      ”But if you would be truly the Heroes of glory and legend…. Then your destiny awaits out there.”

      She falls silent, standing very still, a living statue of frailty mixed with teeming power.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 17, 2011 at 8:58am
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      *Her smallish hands retrieved and cradled the pair of die, grinning to herself at the delicious irony of the Fates. She gave a soft shake of her blonde topped head as she rotated the die slowly within her palm. She passed a brief glance over her shoulder to Donnagan. Her expression was paved with confidence, some excitement and partial eagerness to get this whole deal over with. Her eyes were not shadowed in fear, she would not allow it. Instead those mossy green eyes of hers pretty much told him to get his arse moving. Though whatever she was feeling deep down inside was pushed to the far and dark recesses of her mind to avert distraction from the task at hand. She began her light-footed saunter into the halled maze, ready for whatever comes upon her.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 17, 2011 at 10:53pm
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      |Chitose was in the back of the now four person group as he was watching but never speaking the neko had almost disappeaered into the shadows so no one could see him. he watches the thing give objects to Laryka as he shoots a glance towards Donn keeping clear of the man. He turns his head so he is staring at the glass lens that she had just placed down onto the coffin lid as he shifts his weight as he slowly now moves towards the glass lens as his right feline hand reaches out slowly as it picks up the boon slowly. He stares at it with wondering eyes as he blinks repeatedly taking in mental pictures of such a device. He smiled a little as he pulled it back towards his chest as he glances back at Donn then to Laryka. A smile spreads across his face as he takes a step back from the coffin now as he bows his head slightly.|

    • #41431
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 18, 2011 at 9:14am
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      *After the goosing Donn delivered to her rump, she passed him a look and her voice coiled out gently in jest.*

      “Dun be startin’ something ya can nah finish, me Devil….”

      *Side by side they began their journey not knowing if the entire pathway they’d remain that way. She pocketed the dice and seeing Donn ready with his dirk she began her examinations of the halled maze. Checking directions for traps or secret doors. As always the rogue first, a stream of excitement flooded her veins….she lived for this kind of stuff….exploration, discovery….and reaping the rewards at the end of it all.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 18, 2011 at 9:40pm
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      Donnagan’s mood lightened by his lovers kiss he steps to the coffin, grasping the shell in his hands and as he does, he begins to hear whispers flowing through the room, quiet wisps of shifting sound that alight upon the air light an airy breeze before blowing on, silenced as he replaces the shell in his pants.

      Laryka recovers her treasure as well and as her hands cusp the dice, she can hear the sounds of rattling, quietly tapping in her head, as if the dice were no longer in her hands, but rather in her skull. The sound continues with a clinking and a clanking for a moment, and then as she turns to make her way down the hall, the clattering sound stops. The ghosting dice have come to rest and fate is before her.

      Next Chitose stepped forward to snatch the glass and as he does he feels a burst of understanding blooming in his mind. For a moment connections are made and thoughts are suddenly spun in new and inspiring ways. Then his own ethereal experience fades, his glass lens stored, the adventure commencing.

      Finally, Dimitri moves to the stone sarcophagus and as his hand falls upon the bulb it begins to glow, a powerful burst of illumination pouring from the sleek glass surface of the orb. He holds it before him and the already well lit chamber explodes with light, and in that moment, he can see things, things that are beyond site, things that are hidden, the shadows of images tickle at the periphery of his vision for a moment, before they too fade. The bulb is replaced in pouch or pocket and the light grows dim, and extinguishes. His feet too set upon the path down the hallway before you.

      ***************************************************************************************

      You stride down the hall, a wide passage easily allowing two or even three to walk abreast. The walls themselves are pure white stone, marked with strange symbols, not runes or letters, but rather a pattern of geometrically complex shapes, interconnected, and then set in the middle with chaotic motifs. The result is an exquisite interplay of pattern and random that rises up all around you. There are torches set into sconces hanging from the walls every few feet, casting the hall in flickering illumination.

      After about 100 yards the passage opens up into a mid sized room. The walls here are white with patterns and motifs, much as in the hall. There are pipes running erratically through the space, white pipes criss-crossing and zig-zagging madly through the room, making passage through it a matter of ducking and dipping and stepping and hopping through tangles of the pipes. Some are steaming, others are searing to the touch, while still others feel numbingly cold.

      The room has four exits; one to the left, one to the right, one leading forward, and the other leading back the way you came. Each exit looks out upon an identical hallway.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 19, 2011 at 7:26am
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      “Hmm….”….-She pulls out her dice to determine which corridor she would take. Low numbers to the left, mid-numbers to the forward, and high numbers to the right. She make a shake of die in her lightly enclosed fist and dropped the die. (Using a dice roller, got the following…just to speed things along). A four and a five stablize in front of her on the floor. She snatches up the dice, rotates them in her palm like a gambler itching for a good bet and heads off to the corridor leading RIGHT while glimpsing behind her shoulder to gesture to Donnagan to join her.*
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 20, 2011 at 3:50pm
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      |Chitose just stood there as he was starring at the pipes as he felt the knowledge wash over him he almost purred as his tail spasmed slightly jerking outwards and waving to the right it began to sway back and forth. He stood there starring at the gemoetrical shapes tapping his index finger against is lips as he made a soft and quiet little Hmmmm sound. He moves now following after Dimitri in a similiar jogging like formation. His katana pumped against his hip as his armor was torn to hell already he reached up with his right hand in mid jog and began to tear the armor of. It fell in strips hitting the ground and dissolving. He smiled a little as he moves now free of the armor it felt as if a great load had been lifted off his body. Smiling to himself he almost relished in the knowledge he gained though he began to wonder and plot out things in his mind as to what importance it was. He glances behind him down the dark tunnel making sure no one was around that was following them. His feline eyes adjust and seem to shift as a coy grin crosses his face. He speaks rather quietly towards Dimitri. The voice travels through the air and Dimitri might hear it| “Hey Dimitri what walks on 4 legs in the morning 2 in the afternoon and 3 at night? ”
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 20, 2011 at 5:07pm
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      You move down the hallway to the right, and come to a solid oak door, stained with crimson hues but otherwise unadorned. Clutching the handle, the door swings open to reveal a chamber filled from ceiling to floor with glittering objects of pure gold. There are golden vases and glimmering gold statues, bars of gold stacked in heaps, and shimmering coins strewn carelessly across the floor. The vast fortune strewn out before you sparkles in the light of the flickering ever living torches that adorn the walls.

      However as you look around, you notice that there are no doors, no windows, no openings or exits anywhere in the walls or floor. It’s a self contained chamber, a dead end.

      As Larykas eyes fall upon the golden fortune before her, she begins to hear the clamoring of the dice in her head again, the clinking and the clanking mixing with the mesmerizing vision of untold wealth which now lies before you all.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 21, 2011 at 4:07pm
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      *If it weren’t for the gentle hand of Donn’s laying on her shoulder she probably would have stripped to her skivvies and swam amongst the gold. That marvelous hue, bright and shiny filled her green eyes with childish delight, she was practically jumping up and down like a lil’ kid in a candy shop. All reason had completely vanished, hearing the rolling dice in her brain, overwhelmed with the scent, the feel of….HOLY SHIT A WHOLE ROOM OF GOLD! MINE, MINE, MINE! But there was that hand on her shoulder, barely restraining her sensabilities, that mental bond with Donn, the forgotten riddle that Chitose announced playing in the background somewhere, and the current inquiry from Dimitri. Always teetering on that thin line between light and dark, good and evil, logic and emotion. She just wanted to touch the loot, feel it, smell it….damn right caress it!*

      “Well, feck me sideways and call me o’ spoon! ”

      *She contemplated, fighting internally with bagging the loot and going to Hell knows where to play with all the golden trinkets her mind could ever imagine….but shit, a dead end….and the lucky dice had only lead her to what the roguish part of her desires. Ok, ok, calm down…..think, think, think…..Hmmm……her mind was working on a way to have her cake and eat it too.*

      “Alright, this obviously be nah the right room….Me thinks this be the biggest distraction evah!….Dimitri, Chitose, Donn….we’s gonna have to head down one the other corridors. Lead the way fellas….apparently me instincts be failin’ us and time be limited.”

      *It was then she waited patiently for each fella, perhaps even Donn, to turn around and backtrack….so she can at least swipe a handful of something from this room.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 22, 2011 at 2:25pm
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      Your eyes are transfixed by the fortune glistening before you, the golden treasure promising all of the boons of wealth and want, answered by a mere swipe of the hand. Dimitri steps forward, falling prey to the temptation, reaching out, grasping at a golden bar, feeling its weight, its perfect polished smooth surface. He stares at it for a moment, before prudence and reserve force him to take a step back.

      You chat amongst yourselves for a moment, banter and bicker, strategies tossed and discussed. But then your words are cut short by the rich trill of clinking and clanking coins crashing down behind you. As each of you spins in place you catch sight of a great heap of gold, an enormous mound of statues and bars and coins and figures, all tumbled and tossed into a massive heap that now blocks your egress from the chamber.

      A moment passes, and then there is another trail of falling coins, the clinking clamor causing a caucophony in the chamber as the heap blocking the door grows larger still, the glistening treasure mound now looming above you.
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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 22, 2011 at 9:05pm
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      |Chitose’s eyes did not even falter thwn he caght glimps of all of the gold that was around in the room. He smiled to himself as he had come up last behind Dimitri, Don and Laryka. A coy grin crosses his face as though it was off his face in a matter of seconds. His eyes went to the back of Laryka as he could almost sense the muscles in her back tense at the sight. He felt something stir on the inside of his stomach but he did not go any further. He turns now as he was in the back of the room as he moved away from the room that would tug on the greedy side. He turned his head as he retorted now to the group that was transfixed by all of the gold around| “The deadly sin of greed will be the death of you all if you do not get moving. Get away from that cursed room as soon as possible. Don’t take any of it though.” He walked away from them now not waiting to see if they followed or even listened. He just kept moving back down the tunnel; the knoweldge he gained told him to get away from that room.|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 23, 2011 at 11:23am
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      *She turned on a booted heel listening to the droning voice of Chitose’s scolding. What a stick in the mud, she thought. Her eyes narrowed and struck onto Dimitri….that fecker touched the loot before she could….and then with the crashing, and metallic clanging of gold upon gold piling up over the entrance to the room….she noticed it was just the three of them and Chitose was gone. A string of non-lady-like curses rang with a clatter from her pinkened lips. This whole thing was going wrong and for all she knew it was Dimitri’s fault for touching the gleaming stash.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 23, 2011 at 9:04pm
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      Chitose sees the gold but immediately he is wary, stopping in his tracks and passing back into the hallway as his companions chatter on. Then suddenly the sound of voices is cut off as the great streaming rush of golden treasures crashes down in a heap in front of the door, separating him from the rest of the heroes. Soon after another crashing sound of jangling tones, and then another.

      Within the chamber a windfall of fortunes surrounds the heroes. There is quiet for a moment, but inevitably there is another golden crash, another pile heaped in yet another corner, the bright coins rolling down, clanging and clamoring around your feet. One of the great streams of wealth erupts directly above Donnagan and Larykas heads, sending them scurrying to avoid being buried.

      This continues, slight pauses, broken by more crashing gold, more heaps of treasure, sometimes the piles grow larger before the door, other times they are deposited randomly throughout the space. Slowly, steadily, the room is filling with these treasures, the glimmering walls growing closer and closer with each clanging heap.

      All the while the sound of dice rattling steadily wars with the sounds of clanking treasure within Laryka’s mind.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 24, 2011 at 1:56pm
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      “Tis be the most unlucky fortune evah! I fail to see the humor in bein’ buried in treasure!”

      *She called out in frustration as Donn gripped her tight by her biceps. She squirmed out of his hold, her left hand dug into her pocket and clasp around the dice. And for one pure moment of clarity, she found herself the luckiest person ever simply for having Donnagan in her life.Her palm curled around the die, she shook her fist and let the dice go at her feet awaiting anxiously the results.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 24, 2011 at 6:28pm
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      Another pile of golden treasures crashes to the ground, then another, and another, until the great mass of wealth is pooling at your ankles. Laryka pulls free of her lovers grasp and slips the dice into her palm, the sound of rattling growing louder in her mind as the flesh of her hands comes in contact with them.

      There is yet another clanging crash of wealth, coins and statues spilling haphazardly around the Heroes as her hand flips, and the dice fling into the air. The second they are free of her grasp, the sound of rattling suddenly stops.

      The tiny white cubes toss and tumult, spinning erratically as they fall, crashing one after another into a lopsided statue, and then hopping, bouncing, and flipping once more in the air until they both dip and dive directly down into the pocket of Dimitri’s jacket, the same pocket where he stealthily stored the bulb that was his boon.

      In the moments that follow the sound of crashing clanging treasures continues to fill the room periodically, the golden mass growing higher and higher, the chamber itself seeming smaller and smaller with each passing moment.

      Meanwhile in the hallway beyond, all Chitose can do is listen to the caucophony, and watch the great golden mound grow thicker between him and his companions.

    • #41432
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      Permalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 25, 2011 at 2:03pm
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      *She stood idle with panic rising to bile in the back of her throat as the symptoms of clausterphobia began to set in. Her eyes were glued to the pair of die she set free, only to dive at Dimitri once they seemed to leap into his pocket.*

      “Noooooooo!”

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 26, 2011 at 1:02pm
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      |Chitose pauses as he stands there as he hears the clanking sounds. His muscles tense as he turns back around as his eyes open wide. His mouth dropped opened as he knew deep inside of his mind that he could do nothing. He was glued to the spot as he was stuck there. He closed his eyes as his ears flattened against his skull he was listening to the hereos and their struggles barely audible over the clanking of gold against another.|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 26, 2011 at 2:33pm
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      The dice rattle and clack across the golden ground before falling neatly into Dimitri’s pocket. In a surge of panic Laryka leaps at him, but he shifts away, sliding through shadow to come out on the other side of the chamber, just as yet another fall of golden treasure crashes to the ground behind him.

      His hand slips inside of his pocket, grasping at the bulb and pulling it free, but in that swift and sure movement the dice also spill forth from the enfolding cloth, rattling and clanking once more across the golden ground as within his hand, the bulb begins to glow.

      Light bursts from Dimitri’s grasp and in that illumination, the world changes. You are still standing in a solid stone chamber surrounded by swiftly growing heaps of wealth, but the ceiling has disappeared now, replaced with a series of pipes, thick and thin, which swerve and twist amongst one another creating a grated meshwork above your heads.

      Walking along these pipes are tiny men, glowing white, carrying large buckets on their heads. Periodically one of them will halt in their proceedings, leaning over the chamber and tipping the bucket, great golden wealth spilling from its hold to crash and clang into heaps in the room below.

      Those in the chamber see this, but in the hall beyond Chitose is cut off from sight of light, left staring at the blocked entrance to the chamber beyond.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 27, 2011 at 2:09pm
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      *While the bulb in Dimitri’s hand lit the way above, Lark was focused on her jumping bean-like die that found a way to free themselves from Dim’s pocket. With all the swiftness she could muster, she made a mental note of the numbers that shown on the die before scooping them up in her greedy hands. She turns to watch Donnagan, having missed the whole pipes and midgets with buckets of gold scene from above.*

      “Whatcha doin’? Need me for something?”

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 28, 2011 at 3:52am
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      |Chitose fornws as he was unable to move and did not see anything. He closed his eyes as his feline ears pressed against his skull as he refused to move as he began to rub his left and right hand together causing frction to be made as he began to drag his hands slowly away from each other a visible arc of pure raw electric blue energy was visible as he was casting his own light.|
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 30, 2011 at 10:59am
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      Light explodes from Dimitri’s bulb, causing the constantly growing mounds of treasure to sparkle and glint in the glorious illumination. The deadly wealth is now pooled around the Heroes ankles, rising with each tip of the ethereal creatures’ buckets into the room.

      In a burst of violence Donnagan flings his dirk through the air, the deadly blade aimed for the throat of the closest glowing being. It hurtles directly through the creature’s body, passing through it as if they weren’t even there, and then slamming into a twisting pipe behind its head. The blade embeds deep in the tube, and green smoke starts pouring from the breach in its surface.

      In almost the same instant the darkness around Dimitri condenses into tiny, bullet like pellets that then hurtle towards the faux ceiling, crashing through the tiny, bucket bearing beings, and slamming into the pipes around them as well. The projectiles dent and ding the twisting tubes, in some cases bursting through their outer layers to send streams of multi color smoke spewing into the air.

      None of the tiny glowing creatures seems to notice the attacks, although when the pipes are dented and damaged, a few do drop both bucket and bounty into the room, racing with what might be panic to the source of the colorful smoke.

      In the wake of the failed attacks Donnagan charges towards the wall, finding a heap of golden treasure waiting to carry him half way up its height while his hatchet comes to hand. As he moves Laryka dives past him, her hands clutching at the dice, two sixes resting in her palms briefly before they are safely stored away.

      Meanwhile in the hallway outside, Chitose ignites a burst of white lightning within his grasp, illumination flaring into the already torch lit hallway, revealing nothing but the golden blockage on the doorway to his friends. However as he stands there, a strange, color swirled smoke begins to waft down from the ceiling.

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on May 30, 2011 at 7:21pm
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      |Chitose raises his head as he stares up at the smoke as he was planning to do something with his lightning but he did not as the lightning was put out as he glances back at the blocked door as he shook his head as a coy grin was split across his face. He shook his head as he licked his lips then glancing back up to the smoke he began to watch it.|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on May 31, 2011 at 12:01pm
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      *She too begins to climb a mound of treasure that butted up against the wall, with her dice carefully pocketed away she withdraws her daggers to use for impaling and climbing up the wall following Donn’s lead. She yelled several times in hope that maybe Chitose on the otherside of the door could hear.*

      “Oy, Chitose, we be climbin’ up fella, climbin’ up!”

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on May 31, 2011 at 9:34pm
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      Laryka’s words carry easily up and through the now apparently ethereal ceiling, flowing past the glowing creatures and their buckets of gold, and alighting down through what seems like solid stone.

      Chitose looking up sees that solid stone, and he can see multicolored steam streaming from its surface. He can also hear Larykas voice, calling out to him from the empty white blocks.

      Meanwhile within the chamber Laryka and Donnagan scurry up the golden windfall that is the ladder to their safety. But as they do another one of the glowing creatures stops at the top of the beam above them, his large round bucket spilling precariously forward sending yet another stream of tinkling treasures flowing down towards them.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 1, 2011 at 2:22pm
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      *Her climb was slower than Donn’s but more precise. Being that she was a smaller target than Donn, it was easy for her to tuck her body in as the cascade of coins pelted down from the midget’s bucket, pinging against the back of her head, neck and back. With each impact, she’d grunt and groan knowing those damn shiny coins she craved so much were bruising her flesh while they rained down on her. Nearly to the destination, several feet behind Donn, she peeked up to see him reach the top with the blade of his axe but was unable to see what happened to Dimitri.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on June 2, 2011 at 4:37pm
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      Statues and treasures, golden wealth in coins and chains clamor down upon Laryka and Donnagan, impeding their upward quest and bruising their flesh as they scramble up the wall. But eventually through grunting effort and clamoring pain they scurry to the height, grasping at the pipes above and pulling themselves up past the apparent ceiling, into a realm of swirling mists.

      The first thing that Lark and Donn notice is that the air tastes sweet. The swirling multi-hued clouds which spew from breaches in the pipes have filled the atmosphere with a syrupy consistency. The first breath is like drawing in powdered sugar, and as the swirling smoke touches their lungs, the two begin to feel a whoozy heady rush sweep through their senses.

      Standing upon strange twisting pipes which lie beyond a ceiling which is not there, while the air swirls with color and glowing men traipse back and forth is not an altogether natural scene. But breathing in the mix of steamy clouds, Laryka and Donnagan begin to see even stranger sights, the world stretching and twisting around them, faces appearing in the swirling smoke, creatures lurking in the shadows, hallucinations plaguing their sights, making it impossible to tell what’s real and what is fake in this world of unnatural insanities.

      Down below in the chamber, Dimitri is now buried in the gold, the great wealth surrounding him up to his waist and continuing to pile down.

      While in the hallway beyond, Chitose begins to hear the sound of footsteps coming from the solid ceiling above.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 3, 2011 at 2:31pm
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      *Bruised from the last raining downpour of cache, Lark seemed thankful to have finally reached above the room to the maze of pipeways. She didn’t see it at first, the curling of greenish haze filling the air up here. Instead it was the taste that filled her nostrils and slathered her tongue in the oily sweetness. Then it was the reaction, the start of some inter-dimentional acid trip. She slipped on the pipe and landed not only solidly but painfully in a straddle on the pipe. She leaned forward and hugged the only thing keeping her above the quickly filling room below. She could only imagine that the same affect had taken hold of Donn but there was nothing she could do. She ripped at her own shirt, leaving just a tank underneath. She carefully folded it over and used it to cover her nose and mouth to possibly filter out the sickening cloud they’ve encountered. Still leaning down on the pipe, she attempts to let herself clear her mind, her lungs and her thoughts before deciding which way to shimmy, forward or backward.*

    • #41433
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on June 3, 2011 at 8:09pm
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      As Lark and Donn ascend the heights of the pipes they are thrust into a world of swirling madness. The air around them is a mélange of subtly sifting hues, clouds of color drifting and merging before their eyes, as the strange steam spews from the breached piping. With every breath their lungs feel as if they are coating with sticky syrup, every inhale feeding more of the fumes into their systems, causing the world to trip with hallucinogenic falsehoods.

      In the swirling air they see faces, visions of creatures haunting and howling at them. These sites merge with the surreal reality of the glowing men carrying their treasure buckets back and forth, making it nearly impossible to distinguish truth from mind haunted lies.

      As such, Donn doesn’t notice when one of the tiny glowing creatures walks right up to him, and through him, its luminous body passing past Donn’s core as if he were nothing but a ghost. However despite the fact that the tiny man easily sifts through his form, the bucket on his head does not. Rather the richly filled container slams hard into Donnagan’s chest, sending him teetering off balance, as the golden cistern crashes down through the faux ceiling, and lands on Dimitri’s head, a treasured spill clanking and crashing into his skull with it.

      The tiny man turns now, looking at the bucket, and it seems as if anger may be rising to the strange features of his face. But a moment later he shrugs and marches off, his feet stamping directly through Larykas prone form as he makes his way.

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on June 6, 2011 at 6:14am
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      is back sorry had to go away laptop charger was busted and so on. \Stood in the corridor, just staring up at the white smoke, a smile as present on his face, he began to double back, going back towards the corridor of four, he stood in the center waiting for the others to possibly return or it was up to him to decided a way, he pulled out a notebook and began to write down “Four of us and four corridors, each one holding one of our dearest desires, One down, Laryka, Dimitri, Dom and Myself are left, leaves it down to only three ways, one of them have our greatest wants in them, but the question is . . which one.”
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 6, 2011 at 2:07pm
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      *The deeply seeded need to survive kicked in and as she watched through the blur of swirling visions, she reaches out her hand with a loud call towards Donn.*

      “Grab me hand, me Devil!”

      *She was definately obvious to Dimitri arriving on the pipes and the thought of Chitose out in the hall was just a distant memory at this juncture.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on June 6, 2011 at 7:45pm
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      The moment Dimitri extinguishes the bulb the illusion of the solid stone ceiling returns. In the chamber above all light vanishes in an instant, the glowing figures carrying the buckets of treasure extinguish, and Laryka and Donnagan are left suspended in a lung choked world of penetrating darkness. However the lack of sight does not halt the onslaught of strange hallucinations, which now waver and emerge towards them from the blight of night itself.

      Below, Dimitri’s body now disperses into inky shadows which slither up the wall with lightning speed. However as he crashes through the illusion of the ceiling he cannot see the pipe above and his dark form slams into it, a breach erupting in its iron side, a powerful burst of muti-hued steam streaming down and surrounding him in choking gasping clouds of sugary illusion.

      As Dimitri makes his way past and onto the pipes, the hallucinogenic effects of that burst of smoke begin to play tricks on his mind. Immediately surrounded in darkness, with sounds of streaming steam filling the air and every breath a sugary choking nightmare, his mind begins to slip into a daze of delusion, faces and figures emerging as he looks out at the inky blight all around him. These insanities distract him from more rational thoughts, thoughts of lighting the dark and igniting the boon of his bulb.

      Meanwhile Larks hand slips out towards the wavering form of Donnagan, but that is the exact moment that darkness sweeps over them, making the task of catching his grip all the harder. The situation is made even more precarious a moment later when Dimitri’s shadow form crashes into the tubing, causing the entire network of pipes to shudder slightly beneath the couples feet.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 8, 2011 at 2:15pm
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      *In the dark, still straddling the pipe, clutching with one hand while the other is lost in extension towards Donn. As Dimitri’s body impacts against the pipe and adding to the affect of the gas filling her lungs she loses her reflexes. Her grip is relinquished and her legs slide from their hold. The once nimble rogue has been made incapacitated. She plummets down from the piping, through the illusioned ceiling and landing flat on her back on a pile of treasure. All the air is forced from her lungs, her eyes roll back in her head as not only does the physical darkness sweep over her but her mind is blanketed in darkness to as she passes into unconsciousness.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on June 10, 2011 at 5:19pm
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      Laryka falls through the illusioned ceiling crashing into the golden carpet below. As she does a rush of fresh, clean, unsweetened and untainted air gushes into her mouth, clearing away some of the faint and flustered illusions which had been plaguing her mind.

      Meanwhile up above, Donnagan and the other Heroes are lost in a chamber of pure darkness, with swirling clouds of sugar tinted steam pressing around them, filling their minds with hideous illusions of shapes and faces, making concentration a difficult task at best.

      Though the darkness is complete, the light of the tiny bucket bearing men faded; still the Heroes can hear the occasional sound of tinkling wealth being sent tumbling down into the chamber below. Though invisible, creatures are still milling about the pipes, going about their tasks. And through his haze fogged mind, Donnagan can hear one of them approaching him now with a tiny, clanking sound, as he shouts for his fallen love.

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      ENHANCEDPermalink Reply by Chitose on June 11, 2011 at 3:13pm
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      |All he could do was just stand there and listen, he shifted in his standing position, his stomach becoming sick, just from hearing all of the screaming and banging, he lowered himself onto the ground, pulling out the eye glass, he began to roll it around on his hands, eyes half closed, he began to release his emotions, calming down his body was just now a shell, he refused to allow his fear to take over, or his feelings of anger for not stopping them, just there, calm and quiet.|
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 11, 2011 at 3:53pm
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      *She would groan and faintly stir, although far from a waking state. Thankfully both her lungs and mind were clearing of the tainted gases from above, allowing her to renew naturally. The sounds of still falling treasure clinked around her. The coolness of the coins felt good against her skin further bringing her comfort and close to rousing her from her stunned condition.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on June 13, 2011 at 5:33pm
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      Standing alone in the room of twisted tubes with the four passageways leading from the center, Chitose begins to hear quiet whispers, words that ghost at the shadow of his mind. He knows that what they are saying is important, oh so important, but the voices are so hushed and remote that all he can make out is the feeling of the words, the shape of them like a distant thought. The longer he stands there though, the more urgent the whispers become.

      Meanwhile in the blight of darkness above the room of gold, an invisible creature bearing a bucket of wealth crashes into Donnagan. The once glowing man passes directly through him, but once more the gold filled container slams hard into his chest, and then goes tumbling down through the false floor beneath him.

      As Laryka looks up, gasping in the fresh air, clarity gushing into her lungs, she is met with the sight of that same gold filled bucket crashing down through the ceiling towards her prone form.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 14, 2011 at 2:41pm
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      *Just as Lark was gasping for air, freshness cleared out her lungs and mind. She looked upwards at the very moment the bucket of gold began to shower down over her. She rolled to the side with a quickness avoiding most of the spillage and only getting plonked on the head a couple of times, leaving her sorely pissed off. She tore off another scrap of cloth from her shirt and tied it around her mouth and nose. Once secured she began to ascend the mountain of treasure once more to claim a spot up on the pipes.*
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 16, 2011 at 4:29pm
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      “Donn, we gotta do something quick, me thinks tis nay gonna be able ta tolerate thhese tigght quarters for too much longer…”*There was a look of desperation in her eyes as she slid fromm the pile of gold. Donn might notice she appeared somewhat twitchy, searchingg about looking for something that wasn’t there…a way out.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on June 17, 2011 at 7:23pm
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      A trill of tiny voices carries through the air. Chitose in his remote location can only barely hear them, the words twitching faint at his feline senses, whispering at him from the strange pipes that twist through the chamber.

      In the pipes above the golden room Dimitri can hear the voices clear, though the words filter through the sound of steam and the madness that infects the air, and his mind.

      Down below Laryka and Donnagan can hear the sound as well, coming from the ceiling above, and with sanity gasping back into their breasts with each breath, the words slowly become clear…

      And then there is another crash of golden falling treasure which sprays across the couple, adding to the pile around them that is slowly but surely growing, leading them ever closer to the false ceiling and the smoke choked pipes above. The sound drowns out the tiny pleading voices for a moment, but as it settles, the words become clear. They ring tiny but strong, carrying to the ears of each of the Heroes.

      “Help me…. Help us!… Free us from this Hell!”

      Only now do you notice a faint sound of clanging hovering against the backdrop of the constant crash of falling gold. A sound like tiny fists, pounding week against a metal wall.

    • #41434
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      Permalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 20, 2011 at 5:50pm
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      “How the blazin’ hell do we help them? They seem ta be immaterial creatures? Any thoughts, this be be outta me league, Donn?”

      *Her glance kept circling the filling room, the pile of treasure building to the point that it was raising Donn and Lark higher and nearer the false ceiling, the horrid gas and the pleading creatures.*

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on June 27, 2011 at 4:34pm
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      *Lark got down low, closed her eyes and with the patience and keen sense of hearing required of a rogue she focused all her energy on the tiny clanging of metal, the soft pleading voices. Searching for a general direction to start searching in.*

      (It has been fun Dimitri, take care and be well.)

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 1, 2011 at 4:55pm
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      (I apologize that it has been so long since I posted. The story seemed to hit a soft spot and I wanted to take a few days and try to find a new direction for it. I think I’ve come up with something interesting. I hope you guys enjoy.)

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 1, 2011 at 4:56pm
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      There are cries of desperation and sounds of hissing steam. There’s the clank of falling gold and the sound of footsteps walking invisible amongst the pipes. But in a moment everything grows deathly silent.

      Slowly… so slowly that the moment seems to stretch out for an eternity… the color begins to drain from reality. It is as if the world is bleeding, leaving behind nothing but a dry gray husk.

      Greed…Emptiness…Bloodlust….Selfishness….Vainglory….Ego….Hate….Murder…..

      A chilling breeze whispers through the empty air. The world becomes cold. Everything grows still. You feel the inky cloak of eternal night settling in around you as you fall into eternal nothingness.

      But then you see them. Floating in the empty dark that now surrounds you, tiny flickering lights. And as you watch them crackle and glow you can see within each light, a life, a pulsing throbbing living life burning bright against the night.

      That becomes your anchor.

      Then the voice speaks, and it is a sound unlike any you have ever heard. It is a sound of terrifying power, of evil, of empty hollow screaming darkness. It is an eternal voice. Its words taint your souls.

      voiddeathdarknesspainLEThateevilkillblooddeathvoicUSpainvoiddeathemptynothingENDdespair
      hopelesspainvoiddarknessevilhateTHISattrocitiesvoidviolencehatredpainvoiddarknessvoid
      voidpainmiseryagonyNOWevilkillmaimhurtviolencepain

      Another voice responds almost immediately. This is a voice of tremendous power as well. The words are as forceful as a hurricane, their power burns as bright as the sun, and they come bursting not from the empty air but from deep within the throbbing life of your very bodies.

      BRING IT!

      The darkness swirls all around you. There are undulating waves of emptiness filled with a thousand flickering star life lights dancing and crashing and colluding in a wild and frenzied swirling sweeps all around you.

      And then you drop, fall, collapse through time and space and crash.

      You are in a room. There are two doors.

      The first door is carved with names. There are hundreds of names, written haphazardly across the surface of its wooden face. As your eyes alight upon these names, your mind springs to life with stories, visions of heroic tales, epic battles, daring rescues. With each name read you learn about the person who bore it, learn about their heroic deeds as they battled to protect their beloved homeland, the planet Hellifyno.

      These are the names of the Heroes of the past. The greatest warriors, the most cunning tricksters, the most powerful mages of Hellifyno’s history.

      The other door is written with a single word, sloshed across its surface in crimson ink. It says “Exit”

      Jordana is also there. Her pale features are bruised and bloodied, her body is broken and ripped in dozens of places. Her clothing is torn, her hair is disheveled, but her voice is still inappropriately loud.

      ”That’s the way out of here! We made it! We have to go now!”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 1, 2011 at 9:07pm
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      “‘Twas too easy. Ya dun enter o’ tomb, fall inta o’ pit and then get an exit door. Highly unlikely. ”

      *IF she were surprised by Jordana’s sudden appearance after her and Donn’s fall through time and space, she did not show it. However she did fish through her satchel of many pockets for a few supplies: healing salve and a roll of gauze, tossing them gently in Jordana’s direction. She scrutinized the names scrawled over one of the doors, pretty much ignoring the door marked “exit” as she felt it was more of a trap than anything since they never did find as of yet what they had initially came here for. She looked over to Donn with a softened expression.*

      “Which door ya want us ta try, me Devil?”

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 3, 2011 at 9:58pm
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      As the supplies are tossed in Jordana’s direction the impish woman screams melodramatically and flounces her arms in the air, toppling and wobbling clumsily as she grasps at the falling healing kit in an almost comical fashion.

      Meanwhile… Donn slips the shell from concealment in his pocket and instantly he begins to hear whispers, whispers of shadows of thoughts ghosting around him, through him. In a single gasp of air slipping from jordana’s lips he can hear the lie, her very lifesbreath a lie.

      But then, still fumbling and fluttering and flouncing around in a chaotic combustion of movement the impish woman crashes into Donn. Healing supplies fly into the air. The shell of truth goes crashing into the ground.

      And smashes into a thousand pieces.

      Jordana turns to look at the broken shell, horror written on her gasping face.

      “Oh no…. oh no…. I broke it didn’t I? You got that from the old woman, didn’t you? Oh I’m so sorry here, this is what I got from her, you take it, its yours.”

      She pulls a blood red knife from her dress and extends it towards Donn handle first, eyes flashing. She whispers.

      “She said that it can give you great strength…”
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 4, 2011 at 3:37pm
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      The melodrama caused her features to pinch up with silent disgust for Jordana. She left Donn to handle the woman as he saw fit. Her roguish instincts already tolld her what Donn’s now broken shell had convined him. So much so that she avoided the “exit”door at all costs. She skirted around Jordana as Donn beaconed to her to accompany him through the door of heros’ names. She quickly cbecked it over for traps and locking mechanisms. “Imma right with ya, lovah….just lookin’ tha door o’er.”
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 5, 2011 at 9:21am
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      “You can never have too much strength…” The comical lilt to Jordanas voice evaporates, and as she speaks a sense of smoky sultry seduction slips through the air. It fills the tiny darkened room of doors with a penetrating energy, a wavering heat that springs up like wildfire, infecting both of the heroes with its intoxicating call.

      She slips across the room and a single finger stretches out to graze lightly down Donnagans back. The touch is electric, a surge of sensation awakening in Donn, a dark temptation blooming in his heart.

      Laryka, absorbed by the door of names is lost in a world of heroic tales. Though her nimble gaze slips lightly across surface, hinge, and latch for traps she finds it hard to keep her attention rapt on the task as the tales of a hundred heroes are sung before her in epic visions of might and valor. This shields her from the burst of sensual pleasures which dances on the air.

      Jordana now slips between Donnagan and the door, between Donnagan and Laryka, pulling him away with soothing touches, a thousand tiny cooing touches awakening within him an animal lust. Slowly he feels reason bleed away replaced by blind need, his mind giving way to the overwhelming sensation, the empty longing for a being that is beyond vision, but is more like an addiction.

      It all happens in a moment. The air is hot. Senses are muddled. As Jordanas lithe form slips away from Donnagan and towards the Exit door her gaze has him rapt, but her words are enticing even to Laryka.

      ”I have something… I want to show you…”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 5, 2011 at 4:11pm
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      *Reading both the door and being provided visions of tales of each name inscribed on the door, she is nearly breathless in following the visuals, the battles, the missions, the travels, the heroic endings. She is nearly completely filled with positivity, she could almost burst like a child filled with “happy-ending” fairytales night after night and with wishes of becoming something so great, a legacy to be muttered for centuries to come. That positive energy lightens her dismal mood profoundly, so much so that Donn might actually feel that uplifting sensation trickle along the mental bond they share. After each story is shown, she exclaims with excitement in her little off-world jibes she’s so notorious for. It is apparent that the temperature in the room increases, sweat beads her brow and drops in heated drips onto her forearm. Suddenly she becomes aware of her surroundings. Her brow knits together in a wrinkle of irritation. Something calls from across the way, a voice soothing and seductive towards the exit. With a slow turn, words on her tongue in question of the change in temperature. She peers over towards Jordana and her delicate but dirty hands caressing of all people….Donnagan. A spark of red brilliance blinked in her mind, her sight and quite swiftly pangs of jealousy and furtive anger erupt, yet coldly calculating. Another woman cooing to her husband, whispering sweet nothings and gazing at him with lust-filled eyes. She withdraws her dagger, the door now forgotten. Careful but precise aim is taken at Jordana’s throat to cut off the flow of her alluring voice audibly pleasing Donn. Lark’s speaks as the dagger flies from her hand in Jordana’s direction.*

      “Hell hath nah fury like o’ woman scorned and Heaven hath nah mercy on the one that scorned her!”

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 6, 2011 at 6:49pm
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      The words continue to flow enchanting and enticing, filling the air with sweet sounds and sultry heat, drawing Donnagan further into her gaze, her grasp, her rapt eyed stare that strips him of his conscious controls and lays bare the animal within.

      So intense is the visceral connection between Jordana and her panting prey, that she does not see Larykas attack until the very last moment. In an instant of panic her arms shoot up reflexively to block the knife, the blade slicing pale, already battered flesh, causing a spray of crimson to splatter across Larykas face.

      “You fuckin BITCH”

      Jordana screams as she falls, Laryka crashing atop her. The two women become a tangled mess of violent chaos rolling across the floor. But as they battle, Jordana’s eyes grow as black as coal, and she begins to chant, her flailing arms falling limp to Larykas blows.

      “Faesotu turatti cal tel tunatti fotuci calla hellwit sol tal krellas…”

      Laryka in her frenzied rage may not notice the gathering power, the depth of each word, the chill that now replaces the once sultry heated air.

      And then a burst of energy erupts from Jordana’s chest, sending Laryka flying, crashing to the ground several feet away.

      Jordana stands. Blood drips from her arms, from her face, from numerous wounds both old and new.

      Her eyes are as black as emptiness itself, and she chants.

      “Ph’nglui mglw’nafh asparat dednudim so t’ala kel car’ac tella natu, fotuci hella tuhr…”

      With each word, the sense of dreadful power deepens around her, as if the the darkness itself were stretching out to fill her with its empty energy.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 7, 2011 at 8:07pm
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      *Blood, sweat, and chills coat Laryka’s skin as the temperature drops in the small alcove. The stunning blow that sent her into the wall gave Jordana a moment’s reprieve to Lark’s scrapping tendency. It takes Lark a couple of seconds to recover from the blast, in this time Jordana stands and begins her chant anew. Lark withdraws a garrotte wire from her wrist strap and moves into a swift sprint in Jordana’s direction aiming to strangle the woman from the front, meaning to suffercate the words from her throat before she could cause more damage. At this point Donn is only a bi-stander to the sudden violence erupting between the two women. Lark doesn’t even take a moment to glance over at Donn as her actions are done more out of survival at this point, the streak of jealousy was used to fuel her momentum.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 11, 2011 at 1:37pm
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      The sultry heat of scintillating enticements continues, calling on Donn to let loose the beast and give in to his wilder urges. The thrill surges in the room as the women fall and grapple, rising like a raucous roar into the air at the flash of pain and violence.

      And then the heat vanishes, replaced with a gasp of icy cold as the ancient words slip from Jordana’s throat. The evil chant, the spoken syllables of untold power, float on the air and fill the room with a sense of dread that eventually explodes in a burst of power that sends Laryka flying.

      But which fills Donnagan with a thrill of power. His already fogged and lusting senses are now turned towards a darker purpose. Hatred, violence, and anger erupts within him. His eyes begin to shadow and in that shadow all he sees are enemies, Laryka no less than Jordana.

      Lark flies at her with her cord, the press of the wire snapping off the frail woman’s words. But Jordana doesn’t flinch. The cold doesn’t vanish.

      Rather dark knives rise menacingly into the air. Knives so black they might be made from emptiness itself. They hover about the wrestling women for a moment, and then they lash downwards.

      Towards Jordana. The inky blades circumvent Laryka completely, flying instead into Jordana’s form. Great gaping wounds of hot crimson blood slash across her already battered body. Pressed against the wall, her face turning shades of blue, her body dying, Jordana’s lips curl into a smile, and she silently laughs.

      Through it all Donnagan feels within himself turmoil, conflict, and rage. He sees no shapes or forms now all he does is feel, and he can feel the violence erupting within him, spurring him towards the entangled women.

    • #41435
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 11, 2011 at 3:57pm
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      *Laryka did not spy the ensorcelled blades until it was too late, as her main focus was to dispatch of the temptress with her evil enchantments. The inky daggers miss Lark’s wrestling form over Jordana by magical intervention, more than likely. As they puncture into Jordana’s body, Lark is showered in the woman’s blood. Her garrotte retracts back into her wristband and she scrambles backwards, hands working furiously to remove Jordana’s blood from her eyes and face. She is panting out breath at her use of physical energy and but through the strong mental bond shared between herself and Donnagan….she can feel the change come over him, his humanity slipping into the background of his mind and the monster that holds possession of the soul encased in Donn’s body ripping to the surface. Fear grips her, icing through her innards. She rises to her feet, her blood smeared face looking to Donn as she backs up towards the wall just next to the doorframe of the Heroes’ Names door. Her back presses flat and she considers what weapon she’d use to defend herself against her husband’s inner beast, opting first for the lashings of her quick wit and tongue.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 14, 2011 at 3:37pm
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      As Laryka steps back, taking the cord from Jordana’s throat, a hacking coughing laughter bursts from the woman mouth, flecks of crimson spitting from her lips.

      Her frail form collapses. Blood pools around her as her life flows from dozens of wounds. Her eyes flicker, her flesh grows even paler. But through it all she laughs. She laughs and she murmurs, weak senseless words that ghost from her lips but once free of her form become a solid, dark, and powerful presence within the chamber.

      DESPOTATRI FAESOTU KARKAN TURATTI NATU CALLA HELLWIT

      The madness surges within Donnagan, blind waves of fury and battle crashing against his mind. The air itself trembles with violence, calling to Laryka as well, although she has already been schooled on the mind tricks of the tomb.

      PH’NGLUI MGLW’NAFH FHTAGN DEDNUDIM SO T’ALA

      Jim steps into this atmosphere of darkness and the temptations of flesh and hate immediately clutch at his consciousness. In an instant of decision he spins, flinging a blade at the beast that is Donnagan.

      He watches as the knife sinks into the monstrous mans shoulder, life fluids oozing around its steel. In that flash of violence, Jimm can feel a thrill of pleasure surging through his being.

      On the floor Jordana continues to bleed continues to chant, the words mere whispers till they leave her lips and darken the very essence of the world. She reaches up, her movements weak, her hand curled in a claw. She presses her nails to her pale bruised cheek, and then rips them downward with all of her failing strength, tearing them through the flesh, opening yet another wound in her body.

      As her blood spills, dark power surges in the room.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 14, 2011 at 3:55pm
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      *Her mind is clouded with all negative emotions bespeckled with fear and loathing. That woman, Jordana, how she’s ruined everything. Her hatred for the dying, chanting woman increased two-fold with all thoughts on ridding herself of that woman. As Jordana is poised, lain prone nearest the “exit sign” door. She swiftly on fleet footing rounds behind Donnagan as his attention was now aimed at Jimm. Lark grabs at Jordana’s ankle, dragging the dying evil bitch the couple of feet needed to be square infront of the exit door, of which is pryed and swung open by Lark in hopes of tossing the enchantress out of the alcove and slamming the door shut after the action is complete.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 17, 2011 at 7:15pm
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      Jimm’s daggers slam into Donnagan’s body and with each hit the pulsing darkness, the animalistic temptation roars louder in his mind, slowly blinding him to everything but the battle, his target, and the furious violence that screams like a maelstrom to be let free to rage and roar.

      Donnagan himself is little more than a beast now as he rushes forward, preternatural speed sending him hurtling towards Jimm. The other man’s knife flashes out to strike but in a burst of inspiration Donn simply leaps to the earth, his hands grasping Jimm’s ankles, sending him sprawling backwards as the demonic creature leaps on his chest.

      As the two battle on, Laryka turns her eyes on Jordana. The frail woman lies still slumped against the wall, blood pooling, dark words whispering, barely audible as she passes from life to death. And yet that crackling terror, that hostile power continues to hum like a dark song in the air around her as evil emanates from her form outwards through the chamber.

      Through the fog of terrors which fill her mind Laryka has a sudden moment of decision. Dodging the combatants she crosses the room, reaching down and grabbing the pale woman’s bony ankles. She tugs, hard, perhaps a bit harder than necessary, scraping Jordana’s broken body against the stony floor, a trail of crimson appearing in her wake.

      The dying woman laughs silent choking sobs of cackling mirth, as even this small violence is enough to cause the air to tremble with unholy power. Perched atop his former friend, clawed hand poised and raised to rip his chest out, Donnagan feels waves of aggressive hostility crash into his mind over and over again, until there is nothing but the need to kill.

      Laryka flings open the Exit Sign door revealing a great gaping emptiness stretching out for an eternity before her. She raises the frail woman into her arms, Jordanas weak limbs flailing, her life blood smearing and splattering Laryka as she tries to hoist her through the door.

      They struggle for a moment, barely a battle, before Laryka manages to hurtle her body into that gaping emptiness. There is a sound of shrieking, and a powerful burst of wind crashes through the door. The entire chamber begins to tremble furiously while a roar of pure hatred shatters the air.

      And then…. The dark power begins to fade. Slowly… slowly the spell placed on your minds releases its hold. Slowly… ever so slowly the darkness recedes. The fog that filled your eyes begins to thin, and the violence and fury of the moments before becomes almost like a dream, from which you are now blearily awaking.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 18, 2011 at 4:49pm
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      *She gives off a couple of puffs of air after tossing Jordana into the bleak pit on the other side of the “exit” door. She braces against the door jam as the wind blows upwards from the pit of eternal darkness, of unknown depths…yet it was not enough to hold herself solid against the aftermath of the destruction of Jordana’s body. Off balanced, she lands square on her rump, remaining there until silence infultrates the alcove the three remaining…*cough* “heroes” occupy. Slathered in blood, to her feet her petite form goes once more to slam shut the “exit”, really putting her back into….and that is when….her mossy green eyes, bloodshot from mental exhaustion takes in the full scene. Donn pouring blood from his throat, lain out prone at an awkward position on the stone floor. Then Jimm, slack-jawed, blank gaping eyes twinkling of a slight bitter regret. There was NO misunderstanding the situation. Regardless of the enchantment they were previously under due to Jordana….the hatred, the anger, the agression, the energy of evil….that was mostly forced on them…but what Lark felt now was all natural due to the bloody sight set down before her. Rage bubbled to the surface of her mind, loss and grief inter-mingled into a deady mental potion about ready to explode on the target of Jimm. She couldn’t figure out what to do first…avenge Donn or scramble to his fallen body? She didn’t want to cry but anger burned tears into her eyes. And her first instinct was to call on that dark and foreboding power of oblivion to unleash it on Jimm. Her conscious battled with her need for revenge. At this moment, rational thought about Donn’s restorative abilities were lost somewhere in the cloud of negative emotions. At a single moment of dizzying indicision, she leapt passed Jimm, landing near his feet where the bloodied daggers clinked to the stone floor. She clutched each in a palm, looking back at Jimm with murder in her eyes. For a split second she envisioned herself drilling those daggers into Jimm’s gut.*

      “What have ya done ? WHAT HAVE YA DONE! ”

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 19, 2011 at 3:39pm
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      “Feck ya…” *She stammered to Jimm, her glare broken by the raspy name called by Donn. She let loose Jimm’s daggers, they clanged against the stone floor. Her hands were shaking as she unshouldered her satchel and dug out a few medical supplies to patch Donn up. Suddenly she wore a detached mask of professionalism, Donn was now just another wounded soldier…if she looked at his face, she’d probably get all….irrational….again and have to deal with Jimm’s flippant remarks and pull each of his piercings out…one…by…one…and make him eat them! A needle was threaded on the third attempt, healing salve and gauze was produced from the satchel. All her items were set neatly on her lap as she sat cross legged on the floor, partially in Donn’s blood pool.*

      “Listen, nah sure how deep ya’r wounds are….but me thinks ya need o’ couple stitches, fella.”

      *She carefully began to pry back some of those plates that covered his neck, pinching off the flow of blood, cleaning the area…and definately NOT giving Donn a chance to react before gingerly as possible beginning to stitch that sliced skin with swift movements.*

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 20, 2011 at 3:43pm
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      *After tending to Donn’s wound and being rewarded with a swift peck to the forehead, she watched the intense gaze between Donn and Jimm. It seemed as if they were having some mental battle between the two of them….and frankly she should have taken advantage of the situation and kicked Jimm in the feckin’ nuts for what he did….but time was of the essence and Lark had had no choice but to calm down from her fury while attending Donn’s neck. Finally her voice issued forth, breaking the silence of the alcove. Her tone was graven, cold and somewhat eager to leave this tiny room of which the air was quickly being sucked out of by the lungs of Donn and Jimm.*

      “Dun go outta the exit….tis o’ big pit o’ which that damn sorceress tis be now decoratin’ with her blood. I suggest we press on before I completely lose me temper.”

      *With that she stood up, her leathers slick with blood from herself, Jordana and Donn. She grimaced knowing all too well how chaffed her skin is going to be if she makes it out of here alive. She covered the few steps towards the Heroes names door and opened it without hesitation.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 21, 2011 at 8:50pm
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      The door of heroic names opens on a similar scene of vacant black. But there are no other choices, only two doors in an empty room. With a step of bold and nonchalant bravery the Heroes each step through.

      The door vanishes behind you, leaving you in a realm of infinite emptiness. Darkness stretches out above you and below you, everywhere you turn there is nothing but the inky black of penetrating nothing.

      A man approaches through the dark. A wizened ancient man with wild eyes that glow with multiple flashing hues. He stands before you and raises his hands. There is a flash of light, and a globular form of shifting goo appears between them hovering in the air. It pulses, it throbs, and as he recedes, it begins to grow.

      A woman approaches now. A pure white woman with lancing trails of spider webbed silver arcing across her pale flesh. She places her hands upon the growing glob of light, and the shifting form settles, and soothes beneath her touch, forming into a perfect sphere.

      But the sphere continues to grow, larger and larger, it looms before you; growing at an exponential rate until you are sure you will be crushed by its bulk.

      Another man approaches now. A hunched and squatting man with rotting flesh and empty eyes. He places his hand upon the white woman’s shoulder, a gentle touch, a gesture of love.

      She moves, falling back into the dark as the hunched man reaches his gnarled hands out and places them upon the growing sphere. The luminous orb shrinks back at his touch, its enormous bulk receding.

      He smiles at you and then steps away.

      As you stand there now the glowing orb begins to resolve. You see patches of green, great expanses of blue, even the ruffled brown of mountain and ground, as the shape of the planet Hellifyno forms before your eyes.

      And all around you, the empty dark begins to spark with bursts of light as a thousand thousand stars are birthed, turning the blank and vacant blight into the beauty of a star filled night.

      Then you see it, or perhaps you feel it. A tear, a rip, a wrenching slash erupting through reality. It is like a million screaming voices all raised in agony. It’s an abomination, an atrocity that taints everything in the newly birthed universe.

      At its appearance Laryka can feel the Oblivion surging within her, responding to it, calling to it and answering to its call.

      As the stars stretch out, as you feel yourselves begin to fall, you catch sight of the three who stood before you in the making of the world. They seem sickly now, frail, pale, or mad and frothing. They are not the strong and solid creatures that you saw before. And then, everything speeds up.

      You are standing on the surface of the planet. Green grass is beneath you. Trees are lush and rich and standing side by side. You see the sun march across the sky over and over again. Clouds crash through the air at incredible speeds.

      As you stand there whole forests are birthed before your very eyes, and then are consumed in flames, only to be birthed once more. Stampedes of raging beasts rush towards you and through you and all around you. Cities rise and fall. Wars rage, people die, and their bodies rot and vanish in an instant. The whole history of Hellifyno plays out before you at an incredible rate.

      Then, it begins to slow. As the scene resolves you look around and watch as the lush living landscape is blighted by armies of men bearing the webbed crest of Weaver. They march across the world, conquering and destroying, and then rebuilding; creating strange mechanical cities of iron and steel that spout choking black smoke into the air. The world begins to die, the populace falls sick. There is poison and plague and pain everywhere.

      Through it all the Weaver king watches and commands. You see him now, a tall glowing white figure, with piercing charcoal eyes. Laryka will remember the face. Kraelvek. Chancellor of Hellifyno. The man who sent her on this quest.

      The scene shifts and now you see a massive field of broken earth. There are two armies facing off. Kraelvek stands at the head of his Weaver horde. But across the way, you see another familiar face. Ar’Elis, the future king of Hellifyno stands at the head of an army of black robed Wyrm soldiers.

      He turns to the Lady Jordana who stands at his side dressed in black linked chain mail armor. They kiss, a moment of flashing passion, and then he turns to the troops.

      ”Kraelvek has destroyed our world, choking our air with toxins, poisoning our water, and killing our forests. We must take Hellifyno back from him. Now!”

      The army roars in response and then surges forward. You surge forward too and follow Ar’Elis through the fight. You see him battle and you see him kill. You see his forces push against their Weaver foes. You see his forces pushed back.

      And then you hear him chant a dark and terrible phrase.

      ”Despotatri Elega Faesotu Turatti Natu Fotuci Calla Hellwit Fatahs Sal T’oh Karkan Demonis Asparat Dednudim So T’ala Kel”

      The dark Oblivion surges within Laryka once more as a wave of emptiness crashes into Kraelvek and his troops. The Weaver forces are shattered. The Wyrm forces rush forward. Kraelvek is cast down into darkness and Ar’Elis stands triumphant, as High King of Hellifyno.

      You follow him now, watching his life in fast motion. You see him tear down the cities of iron and steel. You watch as he replants the forests and repopulates the planet. You watch him heal Hellifyno. And then you watch him descend into madness.

      You can see the growing dark of empty tainted blight become more powerful within him each passing day. His eyes turn charcoal black, much like Kraelvek. He becomes violent. He orders murders. He participates in attrocities. Eventually he stains the planet far worse than his predecessor.

      The scene shifts once more and now you see an ancient woman. The glowing woman from the tomb, who gave each of the Heroes present a boon to aid them in their quest. She is kneeling on the dry cracked earth and planting a seed, watering it with tears that slip from her luminous eyes. She steps back, and a tree begins to grow.

      It grows, and grows, and grows, a giant bursting tree of life surging into view. The larger it gets, the more powerful its presence, energy of pure vigor, of exultation pulsing in the air.

      People approach in ones and twos and as they do the tree lowers its branches and allows them to pluck the wooden spears into their hands. These people go forth, singing the song of being, bursting with the light of life. They shatter the armies of Ar’Elis. They cast down his kingdom and regime, and then they build a prison. A massive underground tomb, which will hold his spirit until the end of time.

      —————————————————————————————————————————-

      You are left standing in a field on Hellifyno. The cool breeze blows across your skin. The warm sun beats down upon your heads with rays of comforting heat. The massive tree stands before you, its branches shifting slightly, its presence glowing with the light of life.

      And then those branches reach out, one to each of you, streaming down towards your hands. As you feel your grasp wrap around the wood, a pulsing energy flows into you, and for a moment you are connected to the tree, you are connected to the planet, you are part of Hellifyno itself.

      As you hold the branch it slowly melds and molds and forms, changing into the shape of a living weapon, an item of war that is imbued with the power of Gaia itself. As it melts into its shape you can feel it forming, your own minds can interact with it, choosing the final shape that it assumes.

      Once it is complete, the branch falls free of the tree and into your grasp, a living weapon that you can feel, like an extension of your arms, a constant connection to everything that breathes and grows on the surface of this planet.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 21, 2011 at 10:13pm
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      *The dark taint of Oblivion and her human emotions war over everything she has witnessed. Her heart goes out to the dying and rebirthed planet, the wars, the bloodshed, the loss of innocence, the power hungry, the desperate. She almost sheds tears, but that is something she’ll save for a more private time. And now before the tree, she’s shown its meaning, its essence, its function, its ties to the planet, to Gaia…to life itself. She is almost overwhelmed with the emmensity of the it all. For the first time in her life ….other than loving Donnagan….she has actually felt spiritual, connected to something greater than she could ever imagine. Once she holds the branch, it takes on a life of its own, twisting, turning, transforming into shape that seemed so natural for Lark to weild. The perfectly balanced blade was beautiful. A highland dirk, hilted in topaz and thistle, the blade nearly black to a sheen.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 29, 2011 at 10:34am
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      There is a moment of peace, of serenity and connection as you stand there, filled with memories, basking in the glowing life light of the tree that stands before you. You feel the sun, warm. You feel the breeze. You smell the pine and earth, the healthy musk of the soft woodlands that lay around you.

      There is a moment of peace.

      And then there is an explosion. You feel the ground tremble, and see one of the distant trees erupt in an inky geyser. Blighted ichor spews into the air, a great wave of emptiness infecting the very fabric of reality.

      There is another explosion, and then another, eruptions of blight tainting the air as they spew from the earth.

      A voice speaks all around you.

      “YOU HAVE ALREADY FAILED”

      More blasts of darkness sunder the earth around you now, great geysers of corruption rising in gushing waves of blighted night.

      “THIS WILL BE YOUR GRAVE”

      More explosions, more trembling, and as you watch the gushing waves of emptiness begin to slow, congeal, and fall into form, taking the shape of enormous hands, towering in balled mallet fists twenty feet above your heads.

      Those fists unclentch into massive dark claws that rise up into the air, and then crash down into the earth, pulling the empty ink arms forward, towards you.

      THE GAME ENDS NOW!

      The trembling groaning of the earth is punctuated by the crashing of the great dark limbs as they crawl closer and closer, and with each shattering touch, the grass dies, the air grows stale, and the land becomes corrupt and foul, leaving a trail of wasteland in their wake.

      There are more dark geyser eruptions and the force approaching becomes a horde, a great mass of the empty limbs, infecting the earth, shattering the land, and crawling ever closer to you.

      And yet, as the sky grows gray, and color begins to fade, the very hope bleeding from reality, still you are sheltered in a small sea of serenity. At your backs you can feel the tree, the tree of life, the living flowing connection between you, your companions, and the breathing earth beneath you. While this makes the pain of the corruption before you more acute, it also makes your determination more resolute.

      The weapons in your hands are warm, you can feel them pulsing, as if breathing, as if beating with the rhythm of your own hearts. The growing inky horde approaches. The sky darkens, and then the first blow falls.

      ——————————————————————————————————————

      A massive fist slams down towards Donnagan. Another falls after it, and then another. Clawed hands swipe at Jimm. An enormous palm sweep up, and then out towards Laryka, swatting at her like a fly.

      Behind these first blows another wave of the massive limbs rise into the air. You hear more and more of the explosions shattering the earth, the sounds made distant by the din of battle that envelopes you.

      The weapons pulse, almost glowing within your hands, shattering where you strike, and slicing the inky blight wherever they fall. You can feel the tree of life, the tree of hellifyno, glowing, warm, a source of energy behind you.

      But before you is the endless might of the demon king. The massive claws and hammer fists rise and fall all around you, like a wall of midnight violence, separating you from anything but the chaos of war.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on July 29, 2011 at 3:20pm
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      *As the moment of peace was shattered by darkness, by eruptions of the ground, but the lumbering mass of the Demon King before them, Lark puts everything from this entire adventure behind her, mentally stowed in the tree of life so that she can continue…deal with this impossible obsticle put before them. *

      *As the enormous palm swept up towards her, she put a deadly-tight grip on the dirk. The hand never laid upon her as she rolled off to the right side, wobbling unbalanced on the endless ground eruptions. She tossed the hood of her cloak of Thieves over her head. Rendering her body invisible. She had plans of a surprise attack. She scrambled forward towards the overly large Demon King, her destination was his left foot.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on July 31, 2011 at 2:17pm
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      Laryka slips amidst the roiling limbs, her dirk flashing out to slice into the inky flesh of a crashing arm. As the blade slices through the emptiness, it is as if the taint itself recoils from the pulsing, living blade. Rather than an act of destruction, each swipe or killing thrust is like repairing the very fabric of reality.

      The cloak of Thieves slips around her and Laryka vanishes into invisibility. The dark limbs of the demonic creature lose sight of her, but more and more of the giant inky arms and legs explode from the earth, so that she is dancing through a forest of blighted mallets blindly seeking to crush her beneath their smashing bulk.

      The oily limbs crash down towards Donnagan and Jimm as well. Donn’s hammer swipes outwards in great arcs, and with each blow arms are severed, legs are shattered, leaving wiggling hands and creeping inky black feet crawling across the earth towards him.

      Though they battle bravely the earth continues to explode with more and more of the inky arms, like an army of blighted limbs looming up before Donn and Jimm, slowing their progress towards the core of the demonic beast.

      Then there is a blow that strikes all of the heroes. It is not a physical hit, but rather a pain that lashes at their hearts. As they turn and look, they can see a giant hand, the hand of the demon of Ar’Elis, rising into the air and then crashing down towards the Tree of Life, shattering its branches, battering it over and over again, and with each blow you can feel the hope die in your hearts, with each strike the light grows dimmer.

      Above you, the last vestiges of color in the sky drain away, leaving behind a dreary charcoal cloak looming over head.

    • #41436
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on August 1, 2011 at 1:59pm
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      *Lark nearly choked under the feeling of the mountainous dark Demon Lord smash into the tree of life with the intent of mashing all their hopes into the ground. She had no choice but to turn around from her current actions and weave through the damaged and flailing limbs of the giant monster to return to the Tree of Life. The weapons of which they have been granted must certainly have the power to return the Life they have been given. She swings her blade to the left and to the right clearing a path. In the rush of the sprint, the hood of her cloak blows from her head to return her form to a visual spectical of running with all her might.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on August 3, 2011 at 6:51pm
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      The tree of life is shattered by the battering blows of the inky arm of the Demon of Ar’Elis. Its branches collapse its leaves fall fallow, turning brown as they alight upon the ground. Only the barest frame of the tree still stands, looking like the skeletal corpse of its former glory, only the faintest light of life emitting from its form.

      Each of the Heroes reacts to the pain of the damage of the tree in a different way. For Laryka, it is panic, a rush of fear that makes her halt her forward progress to mingle back amongst the twisting vine arms of the demon, rushing towards the falling totem. As her hood drops free, she suddenly becomes a target for those lashing limbs, which now crash down towards her from every direction.

      Jimm takes a darker road. As the tree is struck by evil inky hands he feels the darkness swirling within him. He can feel the lusty call of emptiness, the vast power that it commands, that it offers, if he merely gives in, gives up, and allows the demonic force to fill him. It becomes more difficult for him to fight, to hack, to raise his scythes in battle, as the light of life fades from the broken tree, and from his heart.

      Donnagan however, reacts with defiance. Roaring against the desperation of the situation he slams his hammer down into the nearest stretching limb, shattering it. A moment later the hammer swings, it flings, it flies through the air.

      The dark arm rises once more, and it looks as if the broken tree is cowering before it. The dark arm falls, the hammer collides, there is an explosion of light.

      As the light fades, the hammer hangs there hovering in the air. Donnagan can feel it, it is a part of him, a part of his body, disconnected by one hundred yards. He can feel it pulsing as if his heart were pumping blood through the handle, he can feel its warmth.

      He can control its movements.

      The inky arms of the Demon of Ar’Elis reform, rising up menacingly before the broken tree, and then slamming down towards it once more.

      Donnagan’s hammer hangs in the air between the tree and its foes, waiting for his command.

      Meanwhile, more and more of the dark limbs are exploding from the earth, rising into the air and then whipping out at the Heroes. A hand latches around Larykas ankle, pulling her down as more of the companion limbs swing their heavy fists trying to crush her into the rapidly darkening earth.

      Jimm, hope fading, strength waning, is lashed and slapped and beaten down, the limbs rising up and then wrapping around him as if to consume him in their grasp. The more pain he feels, the more damage he takes, the less will he has to fight or flee or live.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on August 4, 2011 at 3:34pm
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      *Hopelessness engulfs her being as she watches, frozen footing, the tree of life is smashed, pummled and attacked to near beyond recognition of its former glory. She suddenly finds herself surrounding by inky arms grabbing for her, reaching to strike her down and just as she finds the power to run once again in the direction of the tree….a hand grabs around her ankle causing her forward motion to be only flat on her face to the ground. She looses grip on her dirk, her small hands scratch at the ground attempting to gain hold but the soil runs through her fingers as she is pulled, yanked back farther from her goal. Shouts of angered defiance fall from from her pinkened lips, clumps of dirt from her flailing and scratching hands blow around her as she scrambles to take hold of the dirk she dropped.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on August 5, 2011 at 6:07pm
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      Heavy inky fists slam into Jimm over and over again like massive hammers crashing into his face, his chest, his sides, even as more of the twining black flingers slip around his body, gripping him and pulling him down into a darkness that seems to drain the hope and life from his soul.

      Jimm is all but consumed, his body beaten and broken and falling into darkness. But just then a thought flashes in his mind. A child… his son. If this monster breaks free nobody will be safe from its power.

      A roar comes to lips choking on emptiness and a rush of power flashes through Jimm’s body. The energy pulses within him, filling him with vigor and power, and then exploding outwards through the twin scythes in the form of a blast of light that shatters the dark hands, releasing his limbs to swing and strike and fight once more.

      But then Laryka falls, a dark hand slapping around her ankle and sending her tumbling into the melee. Her grip loosens, the dirk clatters free, and then is consumed in a wash of inky limbs. For Laryka, it is as if she has lost a part of her body, as if her hand has been sliced free. She can still feel the weapon, pulsing, living, and warm amidst the chilling emptiness of the demon that is everywhere.

      Then pain explodes across her back as a meaty fist slams into her spine. Then another fist crashes down into her, and another, beating her body into the blackened earth, beating her into submission.

      Through the haze of pain she reaches out, struggling to regain the living dirk. She can feel it, though she cannot see it she knows that it is moving, that it is slicing through the darkness of the all consuming limbs.

      Donnagan turns, seeing Laryka vanishing in the wilderness of arms he summons the hammer into his grip and begins to work his way back through the melee. He swings, and limbs are shattered, he swipes and darkness vanishes with each blow. But as he moves it is becoming increasingly hard to see and he soon loses sight of his wife in the tangle of battle.

      Laryka is beaten, and bloodied, and then the limbs begin to wrap around her as well, heavy arms crashing down on her back to hold her in place, as massive palms cover her in their hold. All light fades, and darkness is everywhere. But despite this, she can still feel the living blade, somewhere out there.

      She can feel it on her flesh before it ever reaches her palm. Then, with no more than a thought in the dark, the living dirk crashes through the tangle of limbs, and into Larykas waiting hand.

      Moving amidst the tangle and press of crashing hammer hands Donnagan catches sight of the flash of light that accompanies the travels of the knife, and begins moving in that direction, swinging the hammer and felling his foes with every step.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on August 6, 2011 at 10:00am
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      *Her thoughts are a jumble of pain flashing through her battered body, dread to near hopelessness, and that final instinct ingrained from her since her youth….the utter defiance to overcome, to not be overpowered, to not fall until she is damn good and ready. The dirk finds its rightful place in her hand, with all her remaining strength…mostly the will to not die and leave Donn a widower, a shout of mighty resiliance and rebellion rings true from her mouth. She swings, slashes, stabs and swings again at anything resembling the darkness threatening to consume her, to crush her. Rolling onto her back, the blackness around her is battled with complete bravery. Nothing fills her but the dire need to survive.*

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on August 9, 2011 at 6:09pm
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      A mighty roar erupts from Larykas throat as she swings the knife, a flash of white life light energy pulsing down her arm and through the living blade as it hacks and slashes at the overwhelming darkness around her.

      At the same time Donnagan is like a deadly avalanche, swinging the glowing white hammer back and force and with each strike the path opens around him and before him, until finally a powerful swipe of his weapon clears the inky blight revealing the sweat tinted face of his frenzied fighting wife.

      As their eyes meet amidst the chaos there is another blast of white hot life light, a barreling x of energy which crashes through the tangled limbs. A moment later, a panting Jimm steps into the gap revealed by the powerful attack.

      The three stand there, a cocoon of living energy amidst a blighted writhing world. And yet, there is a sense of hope, of courage, of shared determination that makes even the wrath and might of the Demon of Ar’Elis seem a foe that can be conquered.

      And then that hope dies, as through the tangled twisting limbs they catch a vision of the tree. An inky arm rises, it crashes down, and as the tree is shattered the world becomes very cold, and very dark.
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on August 10, 2011 at 3:52pm
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      *With Lark’s apparent green thumb when concerning herbs and even though the world grew dark and cold, within her was still some spark (as dim as it may be) of hope. If the roots of the tree were not damaged, the tree could possibly… with a great deal of care and nurturing….could be returned to health. She fought with each dashing step in the direction of the tree, her aim was to prevent any further damage and possibly rescue a potential cutting or the roots in order to replant and save the Tree of Life. She shuddered in the chill, and blinked rapidly in the darkness. And to the entity of the Demon of Ar’Elis she shouted her stout comment of defiance.*

      Ya still have nah won, ya feckin’ arsehole !

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on August 12, 2011 at 3:02pm
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      *Laryka utilizes all of her own strength and will, combined with that of her dear husband, Gaia’s Light radiating from both Donn and Jimm to continue on. Her only goal at this point was to save the roots of the Tree of Life. She did not even look behind her as her booted feet pounded against the ground, ducking and weaving as she moved with agile grace avoiding the inky tendrils and arms of the Demon Lord. Her heart thunders in her chest with each stride as her steps eat up the great distance. Her breath comes in carefully trained pants so as not to lose her forward momentum. Her muscles ache but are continuely fuel by the ever encompassing desire to not give up regardless of the cost. It seemed a slow-motioned eternity before her smallish form reaches the ruins of the Tree of Life, running so swiftly she almost passed it up.*
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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on August 12, 2011 at 7:18pm
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      Laryka, Jimm, and Donnagan battle on in a world of dark and hopelessness. Every move, every breath, is an effort to stay a split second ahead of the next crashing limb, the next smashing hammer fist that hurtles down towards them. Constantly their bodies are bashed and broken and yet that indomitable spirit within does not let them lie down. Rather they roar, they rage, and they battle on against the impossible fury of this demonic, world eating creature.

      As they fight first Donnagan, and then Jimm, begin to feed their life energies into Laryka, seeing her as the only hope of reaching the tree, of preserving some speck of the vitality within its roots. But as they push their own strength into her, they do not feel drained. Rather the connection that exists between all living beings grows stronger, so that all three feel a surge of pulsing life erupting within their souls.

      Before they even know it, they are moving in concert. Jimm’s twin scythes lay down blasts of white hot life light that clear the way. Then Donn’s hammer swings, felling the largest of the limb like foes as Laryka, swift and nimble, darts in to hack and slice and strike the arms at close range, before falling back to allow her companions to attack once more.

      It becomes an intricate dance, elegant violence spreading from their moving forms as the light of life binds them and connects them ever closer. Soon thoughts and even the foreshadow of thoughts are shared, allowing the three to move as a single entity through the writhing death of the demon’s limbs.

      Conscious thought wanes, replaced by the blind vigor of action and motion. Rather than contemplating or planning, each of the Heroes simply moves, simply fights, simply is, a being of life, actualized and able to revel in every moment of the fierce contest. There is no fear, there is no pain, there is no before or after. There is only this one precious moment.

      Without even noticing, a gentle glow begins to emit from the Heroes, their own life light, the inherent energy resting in each of their souls spreading outwards. As it does, the darkness begins to waver, to fade, to almost melt in the heat of their fiery existence.

      And then they reach the fallen tree, its branches hidden beneath waves of darkness, its roots lost to the inky black that is everywhere. Yet despite this, they can feel the vitality of that blessed plant. But now, it is no longer coming from an outside source. Now that energy is within each of them, individual to Donn, to Lark, and to Jimm, but also shared between them by that connection that binds every living creature together as one.

      As they look out at the massive darkness that represents the Demon of Ar’Elis, the Heroes do not fear. They look upon the foe, and they are filled, with courage, and hope.

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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on August 12, 2011 at 7:55pm
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      *The three entities of Donn, Lark and Jimm stand stead-fast, filled with the brightness and evolving powers of the Tree of Life. At the ready, they stood against the enemy, each one wielding their blessed weapons, no negative emotions found any footing in their souls. Each of them are aware of the wavering hold the darkness before them has. All at once the trio attacks the mass of darkness, that evil Demon of Ar’Elis.*

      (Dear Narrator, it seems it is just you and I now due to Donn’s player being tragically and untimely expired. I do hope that we can wrap this adventure up soon.)

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on August 15, 2011 at 3:50pm
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      (I understand. I will wrap it up on this post. It has been a pleasure writing with you and I am deeply saddened that Donn could not be with us here at the end.)

      The three stand together united, moving as one, the power of Gaia flowing back and forth between them, and as they do, the darkness fades, recedes, falls back against the power of life bursting within them.

      As they battle the darkness falls back and in the wake of each violent swipe and sweeping attack, the land is renewed. With every dashing blow that shatters the emptiness the earth is reborn with life and nature blooming in the wake of their might.

      All is motion and action. All is strike and flow. Everything is in the moment. So that when finally the last screeching inky patch of emptiness is shattered, they are surprised to look around, and see a world completely cleansed of the demons taint.

      The sky is blue. Trees bloom. There are even a few birds, fluttering into view. In the absence of action, everything seems very very still.

      The ancient woman from the tomb appears, approaching across the soft grass. She does not radiate energy here, rather her energy seems to be a part of the living world around her. She does not cross the ground, rather she seems to flow and merge and move with the wind itself.

      Standing before you, she nods once, a solemn gesture.

      ”You were destined to come here, the rules of the great game dictated it, but you were not destined to win. Only your own courage and strength could ensure that.”

      She steps forward, appraising you with a gentle, yet penetrating gaze.

      “Because of you, The End is less inevitable. Some of the darkness that existed in this world has been banished this day. You have given us a chance.”

      She turns away now, walking a few paces off before staring up into the sky.

      ”Unfortunately, you will not be able to stop what will happen in the days to come. Hellifyno will fall. Havoc and Kraelvek will betray Consequence, and it will fall. You and your friends will be sent to the Hells.”

      She pauses…

      “But perhaps I can help you to face what must come after.”

      And then she spins, crossing the field to Laryka. She reaches out, placing her hands gently on the woman’s shoulders.

      There is a flash of light and suddenly Laryka is filled with warmth, with energy, with pulsing life light flowing from the ancient woman into her, filling every nerve, every cell of her body with exuberant jubilation.

      The raw living power pulses within Laryka and everything fades away. All vision descends into a glowing field of breathing flames. She can feel everything. Each blade of grass. Every ant crawling across the field. Every bird swooping in the sky.

      She can feel the living heartbeat of the planet.

      Then, she begins to move, sliding away from the woman, away from the field. She falls, not just through distance but through time, stretching out through the end of the Wyrm War, through the days of Hellish Captivity. She experiences everything, every battle, every defeat, and those few far flung victories, while at the same time, she watches herself from afar, a spectator on her own life.

      Off in the distance she sees a great looming darkness. An emptiness that pulses as it grows closer. The twin Larykas speed towards the darkness like water spilling through a drain.

      Then with an explosive impact the two Larykas slam into one another, and the darkness fades. It does not disappear.. but it recedes… for now.

      In that moment Laryka is a single person. Both the woman lost in the tomb for all of those months, and the woman who has fought alongside the Heroes in the worlds above and below. All of her memories resolve, and settle, and become firm within her mind.

      She is sitting in the Tavern. It is quiet. There are talks of war. Talks of the Last Battle. Of the apocalypse.

      Resting in her vest she can feel a pair of dive, bulging against one of her pockets. Just thinking about them brings a rattling sound to mind.

      Tucked in a holster, she can also feel a special blade, a dirk glowing, almost breathing against her as it rests aside her flesh. A living blade.

      And deep, deep down within, she can still feel that pulsing energy that was bestowed upon her by that frail ancient woman. The living energy of Gaia, a secret sequestered in the recesses of her soul.

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      STORY DMPermalink Reply by Narrator on August 15, 2011 at 3:51pm
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      (I would like to say once again what a pleasure it has been writing with you. You are intelligent, clever, and a very talented writer. It has been an honor creating this story with you.)

      (It is terrible that we lost our friend Donn in such a tragic manner. In a way, I think this story that we created is made more special by the fact that some of his last writing has been captured right here, amidst that story, immortalized for all to see. To read Donn as he role played, is to know that he put a lot of himself into his characters. So hopefully this can be some small memorial of remembrance as to who he was, and what he meant to this site.)

      (Laryka you should be able to take anything you received on the mission with you into regular storyline role playing on the rest of the site. I’ve told the other major DM’s about the ability of the dice, and the Gaia infused blades are accepted at this point.)

      (Once again thank you to everyone who participated. I will be starting another forum adventure in a couple of weeks; I hope you can all join in.)

    • #41437
       Joseph Gambit
      Keymaster

      Permalink Reply by Thadeus Lunareyes on August 15, 2011 at 4:33pm
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      < This was an amazing story and I'll be sure to join the next one from the very beginning. I've followed this closely, without fail for almost the whole time.>
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      HUMANPermalink Reply by Laryka Dior on August 15, 2011 at 4:36pm
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      (Dear Narrator, I apologize for having requested a rushed ending to this story. At the time I wrote that request, I was still freshly beset with grief and I was unsure as to whether or not to continue playing Lark. Thank you though for finishing the story with both grace and finess that I have seen you perform again and again. Thank you for your patience and your creativity that kept this whole project going and allowing us players to interact in this setting.)
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      ADMINPermalink Reply by Dýrfinna on August 15, 2011 at 4:42pm
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      (Yeah. Ill definately try to join the next forum event. Maybe with another character so its not so crazy though heh))

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