Zenith's Oblivion

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Kaome Sky Deathand
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Clashing Titans

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Mon Sep 22, 2008 3:59 pm

Dagurnott drew back his mighty blade and cast another furious blow in an attempt to dispatch the foe before him.
Yet the tree would not fall. Enraged, the abomination smashed his weapon into the ground to wrong foot his foe but was rewarded with a bone jarring crunch as a fist of bark was thrown into his jaw. His weapon hand aside, he struck back with his own fist, hearing and feeling the snap of wood as he connected and pulling back gobs of sap on his fist.

All around the pair, the armies of both sides clashed.
Baneite and Human desperately fought to survive amongst the battle between living titans. Those unlucky were crushed under foot or swept aside in great sweeping arms or clove in twine by towering blades. Ignorant of those around them, the two heroes fought tooth and nail for their respective sides.

Arke struck out again with his fist, connecting a solid blow that slumped his foe to one side.
He blocked a sweeping tail strike with his fore leg and hammered his opponents face again before taking a spear to his mid-section. The beast was surprisingly agile for so much girth. The spear turned into a strike, blade flinging chips of bark and wood aside as Arkes foe sought to chop him into pieces. Enraged, the mighty tree shed a score of seedlings that fell to the earth like a green rain, before lashing out with his hands. He turned his thrashing into a lunge, bursting in to flames as he connected with the grotesque monstrosity.
Rather than the desired effects however, Arke was greeted with a deep throaty chuckle.

"YOU IDIOT! YOU CANNOT HARM ME WITH YOUR FEEBLE ATTACKS!"
Blade singing, Dagur struck Arke on the side of his 'head' and clove a nasty gash that spewed ichorish sap in all directions. Flailing for a moment Arke managed to connect another blow, shoving Dagur back for a moment while he recovered. Fury growing, Dagurnott charged for another spearing thrust. Arke stood his ground and brought both fists from his sides, chopping into Dagurs neck from the left as he came into range. The mighty beast went sidelong, his momentum carrying him crashing into open ranks of Order soldiers. Those that weren't crushed started to strike the monsters thick hide with little effect.

In a single sweeping motion, Dagur cleared a handful of them with his tail and regained his feet.
"ENEMIES MUS-" His words were spat between a gout of blood as a flaming uppercut from Arke silenced him. Rocking onto his back feet Dagur thrust out with his weapon and clove through Arkes left hand at an angle. The World Tree faltered, gripping his wounded hand, all that remained was his index and thumb digits.
A star exploded behind Dagurs eyes and he put his weight into a blow that could level towers. To Arke, it smacked into the side of his face with enough force to send him in a half spin, amber sap spiraling out in all directions, before he came crashing to his knees. Those nearby fell, their footing lost by the earths trembling.

A throaty chuckle came from Dagurnott as he recovered from the deathblow and crashed over to his prey.
Bringing his weapon up, Dagur leveled it at the trees head and plunged.

Vines entangled him.
Thick, brambled and thorny barbs pierced his flesh.
A host of entish creatures clambered all over Dagurs thick hide and were binding him with living ropes of bark and wood. On his feet now, Arke held his left forearm up to keep Dagurs weapon hands from falling and with his right, held expectantly in front of his own chest, removed the Heart of the Oak and shoved it down the demons throat. For added measure, he pierced Dagurs eyes with his index and middle digit.
"As you...have taken...life....so life...shall reclaim...you."

With that, Arke stumbled away from the vastly growing tree that had sprung from Dagurs body.
Writhing, the juggernaut still lived. He tried to cry out, but the vines had gagged him. He couldn't see, couldn't breathe.

"I am the Anthem."
Dagurnott twitched, his body being pressed by the crushing brambles.
"Hollow be my name."
A gurgle was all he could manage.
"Oh no beast...you aren't dead yet."
A single note, melancholy given form, then silence.

Arke yelled an advance and battered the walls of the Banes bastion.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Kaome Sky Deathand
Assessor of the Black Tontine
Posts: 1175
Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

Zenith's Oblivion

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Tue Oct 07, 2008 12:16 am

Ztera sputtered.
Blood soaked the scrap of earth she was currently dying on. Never in all her life had she taken a blow like that. She found herself surprised she even managed to cling to life. Breathing hurt, telling a tale of broken ribs and the blood on her lips and the bubbles from her nose suggested a pierced lung. She dare not move an inch. Tears streamed down her face sluggishly. This wasn't at all how I wanted to die! She sputtered again, cringing at even that feeble movement.
Heavy steps sounded somewhere to her right. She panicked, knowing full well Zumas tread. Sure enough Zuma placed a paw beside her head. Slowly, she turned to face up and saw the Imp still sitting there, blood slivered over his right hand as it twisted the mind of her faithful companion. She couldn't hear well. He was cackling and spouting nonsense. She whimpered and placed her head back down, suddenly sorry for ever joining the Order and placing not only her, but Zuma in the path of destruction. A shadow crossed over her and she closed her eyes.
"FOR THE FRAKKING WHEEL CLAN!"
Her eyes snapped open. That was not what she was expecting to hear before death claimed her.

Scamp had no idea where the midget had come from, but he, they, were forced to remove the claw from the bears head or have it removed permanently by dwarven steel. The axe claimed nothing but air, and as Scamp left, Zuma crashed to the earth in a heap, landing next to Ztera with an earthly thump. Performing an expert back spring, Scamp landed on his feet before bouncing around.
"Well? WHAT! Hey! HELLO? WhowhoWHOYOU?!?"
The warrior was stout, broad shouldered and was sporting an outrageous haircut of bright orange-red.
He hiccuped and snorted, hefted an axe in each hand and whipped his foaming mouth with the back of his meaty right fist.
"Ack! Ya Frakking pipe'eardah I oughta Tackdi'noose and drape ya over't mi bachroom drawers ahuhl!" He stole a glance over his shoulder and muttered. "Aye lass kep your booot shorts on yer tackledangiir and ruffle the wee bairn."
That said, the warrior snorted again and stood at a battle position. "Machk names Loooogaire Thunda Stone an' Ah'll be shelling yah shortcak's on mi flebberhoscoss a'fore mi mackdren dag strikes anoon!"
Scamp, for all his Impish jangles, had NO idea what just happened.
He, they, stood still for a single moment, a complete loss of what to say or how to react crossing his features in a timeless still-shot of stupification. So bewildered by the jib-jab of speech spewing forth from the man in front of him, he was genuinely frightened when the creature came barging towards him in swift strides with a resounding warcry of:
"ACK-TAY NA NOOOOOOOOOOOOG!"

The Axes, in a comical fashion of sorts, missed Scamp by a hair on either side as the critter literally scampered away with great acrobatic skill out the window. "Ack ya Bastard! Stan' still a hair whilst I skin da shirtashoonar off yer piptihintin scum lager!" Scamp ran, actually and honestly FLED from the crazed warrior with looping strides. Yet the pounding tread of the dwarf told Scamps mind a story of relentless pursuit. So with fear lending him wings, the imp jumped, turned, and launched a fire ball directly into the form of the man and rode the shockwave out-bound laughing with glee. Skittering to a stop on his feet, Scamp placed his claws on his hips and stood in triumph, for all of three seconds.
Loghaire thundered his way out of the dust ball and with bloodshot eyes fixed Scamp but good.

"LET'S GET PISSED!"
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Kaome Sky Deathand
Assessor of the Black Tontine
Posts: 1175
Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

Even Angels Fall

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Sun Oct 26, 2008 10:23 pm

Exuro motioned his hand toward the front lines.
The center and the west had fallen, the Order pushing back the Bane. Myriad struggled to reclaim those bodies close to the wall. Dins was closing the distance, anger apparent on his face from even the great distance they sat apart. Arke was bashing the main gate arch to rubble. In that motion, the brothers War were unleashed and the Order knew not what awaited them.

The Hound struck out from the north gate with such force that Arke was felled onto his back.
With a blood cry the Manslayer lashed out and murdered men with ease, striking through armor and flesh with equal ease.
Also from the north struck the Black Lantern and with him the plague.
Men of the Order felt weak, dropping their swords, suddenly heavy in their hands. Their flesh melted like a river of red, their armor rusting out into heaps. Those that managed to come close enough fell to his blade in easy, almost lazy, sweeps. He cast his gaze to the north and struck his mount into an easy gait.

From the West, Legion took to the field, his own army of the Unseen joining the fray.
Dins was fast closing, but Exuro knew that if anyone could stop him, it would be the Legion.

The battle had only just begun...
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A war raged in the heavens.
Those that stood upon the world below only had to raise their eyes to the sky and see, yet they remained ignorant of all that transpired. Yet He saw, as only He could, but not until it was far too late to change the outcome. By then HE saw and nothing could be done once that song had been sung.

Blood splattered down the side of the cold dark mask the Seraph Adumbrata wore.
The battle had raged, and raged as fierce as only god storms could, but in the end it had been decided quickly.
Maltheron had gotten the edge in on many fronts. He was not expected, he was full of energy, and his wrath was great. All his being wanted this, wanted the death of his counterpart, and in a matter of moments, it was done.

He cast his gaze down to the world and a terrible pull tugged at his very core.
He was needed, his hand alone. Only from here could he see the vision.
The world in flames.

A calling.
Gathering the essence of his fallen kin, Maltheron took hold of his brothers domain...
And tore it apart.
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"QUITE YOUR FRAKKIN' SPEEDARD'IN!"
The axe came down, but a quick motion from Scamp sent Loghaires arm a few inches too far to the right and into the dirt. Scamp was slowing down, he began to slip, his hooved feet scrambled for purchase in the broken ground. There was no suitable body to jump into, the majority of warriors hanging back, skirting around the fight to strike at the fortress dominating in the south.
"TOO CLOSE TOO CLOSE!" He yelled, performing a back flip, grasping the tuft of hair that grew atop the dwarfs head and using it like a pole to change his direction. Loghaire cursed and swung wildly, missing Scamp by only scare centimeters. The Imp bounded away, but this only served to infuriate the stout warrior into an eruptive frenzy. Barely a moment flashed by before Scamp found himself hounded once more by the air reaving blades wielded by the crazed man.
Turning, the imp confronted the man dodging between the steel blades and striking out to scar the face. However, the sure strike sacrificed his untouchability, the dwarf dropping his left axe in favor of grasping the imp by the neck. Scamp tore at Loghaires arm, yet the warrior was beyond pain by now. He fixed scamp with his one good eye and held his axe above his head. Blood frothed at his lips as he spat his damning words to the imp.
"Straggle out ah this you frakkin' jimp ape! Say your prayers and prepare. Death comes 'fore ye."
Scamp managed a strangled garble, a laugh escaped his throat.
"If you can dodge a meteor, you can dodge the moon..."
Loghaire, a confused look plastered on his face, followed the direction of the imps impromptu center digit and managed a whispered 'bloody 'ell' before the world erupted into flames.

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The Orders lines were smashed by the sheer amount of celestial tonnage bearing down on them.
Finally those below had enough since to stare into the sky, and stare they did...
Now they behold the result of the heavens war.
Their moon shattered, spiraling bits of the once whole orbital slicing down to smash into their fractured landscape with the hammer of gods. Fire and ash followed their wake, drowning the crash and din of battle in the explosive earth shattering storm of destruction.

The earth spat towards the sky as a particularly large segment crashed into the eastern lines.
For a long moment, the world went silent...

Maltheron stood, rubble revolving around his form in an endless waltz.
He cast his gaze towards the ground beneath him and was surprised to find the form of a still leaving man.
He plucked the wretched form from the ground and bored his gaze into the dying mans eyes.
"Your world will burn...Hollow have you."
He cast the dying form of Loghaire Thunderstone to the blasted earth and strode toward the Orders silent lines.

An angel fell from heaven...
In his right hand he held the key to the pit, unleashing death upon the world.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

User avatar
Kaome Sky Deathand
Assessor of the Black Tontine
Posts: 1175
Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

ZO: His Right and Left Hand

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Sat Nov 15, 2008 12:43 pm

'I am the Anthem...'
"F-frak you..."
'Not much of a request....'
Hollow floated above the battered form of a dwarven soldier and cast in sight into the broken mind. There he saw a place carved from stone, a grand hall where those of dwarven blood roamed and delved. He saw a beautiful maiden, he saw a stout young lad. He saw an axe of shining metal and burnished gold. Finally he saw a statue behind an elaborate throne, it's eyes finely worked gems. It was decorated as a hero, banners cast behind it telling tales of great deeds, broken fragments of armor held as relics at its base, those of dwarven stature honoring it.
Then it all burst into flames.
The statue crumbled and fell.

'There proud warrior...perhaps a better gift before you depart for the rift...'
Loghaire wanted to reply, but his last breath left him and he thought no more.
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Astelan took in the latest event with barely contained astonishment.
The Bane had called down celestial wrath and it was blasphemous to behold. Gathering those nearest to him, the mighty chaplain called upon the silent form of Scillio and made council his battle plan.
"Falc and Terrus take the left flank. Yarro and Shen-La take the right. Domi wake The Devil and prepare to move out on his order..." He forestalled the coming query. "Do as I say, he will live to fight once more."
The soldier nodded and headed toward the medical tents that still held the man gripped by the God of Blood.
"Spread word to take the Bane in full assault. Tell the men to not fear the enemies weapons nor spells for they shall be rendered as nothing against us. Go! Scillio, with me! We take the Center!"

The warriors of the Order moved with haste.
Striking out with such fervor that the Bane was momentarily off-footed, their press lines breaking under the disciplined zeal of the most Hallowed of soldiers. The Lion Blade carved a great bloody path through the center of the lines and there it was that Astelan performed the Blessing of Health.
"Scillio! Stand ready! Warriors of the Order Hold this position for a few moments more!"
Holding the blade gripped toward the earth before him, Astelan started the long chain litany to bless and sanctify the flesh against all harm that would come against it.
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Sap and sawdust littered the field of war.
The Manslayer struck again and again with such thunder-like blows that the World Tree had little else to do but fall before the mighty blade of the wild man. The barbarian had the upper hand in terms of speed and sheer destructive ability. This close to the wall, Arke had no hope of pulling back. He stood his ground and pounded the earth with his great fists, but already he could feel his life sap draining...the world spinning...his seedlings dying in great swaths. A solid blow connected with his left leg and the great tree lumbered and fell with a crashing din into the earthworks around the Main Gate. He struggled to rise, but found his limbs unable to support his weight any longer. The sound of snapping wood was followed by a great cry as Baneites with axes descended upon Arke with the ferocity of demons. He struck back, but the numbers took their toll. His vision dimmed, his hearing ended with a great slash from the Manslayers blade. He blinked, trying to make out the form of a man that was not truly man at all.

'See?' said the figure to something just out of sight.
'I promised you would not pass until he that bested you was laid in the dust.'
Arke coughed sap and the figure finally noticed him.
'I am the Anthem...but you already know this...You are beyond me in a sense...I can take away the pain, but you will remain Tree of the World. You will be born anew once the years have passed as you have done before and will continue to do until this world has come to a close.'
The figure paused and held a hand toward Arke's face.
'Do you want this small boon?'
'No..' The tree whispered.
Hollow nodded, seemingly pleased with the answer.
'Then go...'
Arke heaved his last breath, darkness claiming another.
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The Archers still manning the Outer Ward did their best to stem the tide, but the Order had already broken three small breaches in the stonework. Ginther, struck out from the Main Gate and crashed into the Orders servants. The raining death brought down had severed the Orders lines, but several large groups had survived the onslaught and pressed toward the Bastion with the desperation of men living on borrowed time. It had served them well, but now they faced a Harbinger of Death and he suffered not men marked dead. He flew into their lines and ripped them apart. His great blade swept through flesh and steel alike with ease, his furred mount ripping out throats and slashing men to bloody ribbons.
The Manslayer pressed further still, a warm glow on the battle-field calling him to the slaughter.

- - -

He awoke in the confines of the Bastion and was glad for it.
Glasse could feel his body ache with the spell shock of his work and he groaned as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Attendants came to him, but he brushed them aside, leaning a hand against the stone for support and making his way to a small slit that served as a window. He cast his gaze out to the world and saw the battle was still in full swing. He cast a furtive glance skyward and despaired, the sky was a haze of lingering fire and ash, the mystical cloud cover obscuring everything above that.
He was at a loss for the time, or even the day. He turned to ask, only to find himself alone.
Slumping into a chair, the Light Bender slipped into a fitful doze.

- - -

Torrne's attention spun away from the battle at hand.
His steed disengaged from the front lines without pause as the mighty barbarian cast his gaze over the battlescape. He could feel it, building up, rising toward the heavens. A monumental spell of such skill and power that could only mean the two God-sons had taken to the field. Renewing his advance, Torrne struck toward the center lines with all the haste his mount could muster.

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Maltheron cared not.
Men died in droves all around him.
Maltheron cared not.
He had been surrounded and cut off from the Banes lines.
Maltheron cared not.
For there were none on this planet that could defy him.

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"SCILLIO! NOW!"

Not a word.
Not when he dove into the air...
Not when he held his body suspended there...
Not when he martyred the entire field of war...
Not a word.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

User avatar
Kaome Sky Deathand
Assessor of the Black Tontine
Posts: 1175
Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

ZO: The Brothers Grim

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Sun Nov 23, 2008 7:20 pm

"AH! BROTHER TORNNE! HAVE YOU COME TO REVEL IN THE SLAUGHTER!?"
The Manslayer unleashed a throaty hoarse laugh across the field of war as he drove his blade through yet another victim. Though they were worlds apart, the Black Lantern and his counterpart once shared the noble blood of Barbarian Princes. They both felt the rage build within them, Tornne's channeled into his blade and the Black Lantern he held...Ginther's unleashed in pure wanton destruction. They were brothers by every means in war. Tornne made no verbal reply, lashing out with his blade to cripple yet another wave of soldiers. For a moment they fell, as all others before them, but in a pulse of blue light they gripped their swords and charged forward. Tornne growled his displeasure and lunged at them.

Ginther roared in delight, seeing his bloodsworn brother strike out at their common foe.
"I SHALL TAKE MORE HEADS THEN YOU BROTHER!" Laughing, he entered the fray, his sword singing in delight as he punctured armor and flesh alike. The men of the Order rallied and struck back, but the combined might of two barbarian warriors was more than enough to dissuade a section of the Orders push up the center. Tornne struck again and again, blood dripped down his blade, yet for every man he fell, another took his place...in fact the men he just struck down seemed to be whole. Tornne knew a deathblow when he landed one...these men were under divine protection of a sorts.

"GINTHER! FORM A SKULL CIRCLE! I MUST COUNTER THIS SPELL OF THE PROTECTION!"
Ginther acknowledged with a roar and dismounted his Dire Wolf. The beast circled Tornne on the left, while Ginther took the right. A small gathering of Baneites managed to push through and join them in a circle defense, spears out, clubs reined in. The men of the Order pressed, but they could not break the wall of flesh.
In the center, Tornne raised his lantern up, his sword slung low in his grip, and began to chant.

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The Devil struck forth from the lines of the Order, his wounds in constant throes of opening and closing again.
The Blood God's grip had him still, yet he strode into battle regardless. If anything it made him sharper. From the West he came, entered the banes lines and reveled in disciplined destruction.

- - -

Somewhere in the forest, a body stirred with half remembered ability.
A small gasp escaped its lips as what bodily life remained tried to compensate for the destruction of the mind.

- - -

Maltheron finally fell back.
Those around him refused to die without complete obliteration.
Storming through the battlefield on a piece of fallen sky, the Adumbrata Angel moved toward the Parapet.

- - -

Ztera and Zuma shuffled out of the fire and ash caused by the fall of Maltheron.
The last moments came in shuffling confusion...heat and then cold...a figure floating before her, then another, one she had seen with the army in robes...They had seemed to discuss something at length and then...she felt a pressure lifted from her, as if, as if life had once more flowed into her veins. It was then she saw them in full detail. One floated above the ground, the color of death and snow. The other in robes looked into her eyes and snapped his fingers.
Both vanished and she found herself once more on the field of war.

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"TORNNE! WHATEVER IT IS YOU ARE PLANNING TO DO...."
Tornne ignored him.
TORNNE! YOU WILL NOT DEFY ME! STRIKE THEM DOWN AT ONCE!
Tornne ignored him too.
He ignored the shouts of the warriors and the smells of the battle.
He ignored the arrow that pierced his armors joints and the pain that blossomed.
He ignored the blue haze that played about him and sang out in a voice that could stop the endless waltz of worlds.

IN BLIGHTED DAY OR BLACKEST NIGHT,
NO LIVING THING ESCAPE MY SIGHT!
TO THOSE WHO DOUBT IN EVIL'S MIGHT,
FEAR THIS POWER!
BLACK LANTERN! LIGHT!


The shockwave that radiated outward could be seen from the shattered remains of the moon.

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I am the Anthem...
He said nothing.
Hollow be my name...
Again nothing.
My song be sung...
No reply.
Your will...undone...
Nothing, not even a blink.
Tell me what it is you cherish most...
Not a word.
Give me the pleasure of taking it away from you...
No sound.
So be it...you will do what you have never wanted to...you will be made whole once more.
"...No..."

And Scillio exploded.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

User avatar
Kaome Sky Deathand
Assessor of the Black Tontine
Posts: 1175
Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

ZO: Vendetta Savant

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Sat Dec 06, 2008 11:04 pm

Scillio was dead.
Even in the basking glow of Astelan's light, the form of man was broken. As if in slow motion, the body fell before the avenging son and he saw the lifeless eyes of his brother stare into the heavens with complete and utter sorrow on his twisted features. Astelan fell to his knees and managed a strangled cry from within his throat. He cast aside the blessed Lion blade and held Scillio close. A single tear trickled down his cheek, but eyes only bright, soon turned into pits of hatred. He reverently laid his companion down, took up the Lion Blade and bellowed an inarticulate roar that shook the men of the Order and put fear into the 'nites of the Bane.

He swept into them, carried upon divine wings of tragedy and broke the Bane before him.
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Zhall sounded the retreat.
The black horn bellowed out and the Orders lines milled in confusion. Those of the West and East fell back in good order, the Bane content for the moment to retreat into their lair and lick their wounds. Again and again the mighty Peacekeeper sounded the marching order, but the center was in tatters. Most of them fell back, albeit slowly, the rest caught up in a charge that could only be headed by an avenging angel.

The Devil Takenuma heard the horn and sheathed his blade.
His men traveled back in good order, smashing the Bane and Myriad back before withdrawing.

Kisrug Dins screamed in anger.
Legion was within his spitting distance, yet the press of bodies was greater than expected.
Disgusted he fell back in anger, Legion's taunts ringing on his ears.

Ztera and Zuma fell back, supported by Solana all the way.
The men of the Order covered each and every step they took.

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Utter agony afflicted the Tornne.
The Wheel of Plagues was unleashed, yet with it, the host of his powers. Knees buckled, he fell gnashing his teeth and wailing. The light of the lantern flickered, dimmed and was ultimately snuffed. The sheer power it took to overtake both Avenging Sons, and counter their martyr spell was more than the Black Lantern could truly handle. Like wisps carried by the wind, the power was leeched out of Tornne vanishing into the air before him. He managed a garbled defiance and collapsed.

Ginther was far too busy to spare a glance at his fallen brother.
The Order had sounded a retreat, but from where he was standing it was a full-out assault. Men practically jumped onto his blade so eager to get into grips. He grimaced as an unseen assailant smashed a cudgel into his exposed flesh of his shoulder he turned and smote down the offender. A twitching baneite confirmed his thoughts. With a roar he issued a challenge, and it was met.

Astelan was here, the Avenging Son.

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Exuro pulled his forces back, ordering Myriad to recover as much of the dead as he could while doing so.
The Avenging Son had arrogantly charged.
Exuro cast it no thought...the reckless human would die at the hands of barbarians.

Legion laughed as Dins retreated before falling back himself, Aurora keeping a weather eye for ambush tactics.
Jhita covered the East as the lines were recalled.
Maltheron took one look at Exuro on the Parapet and kept his feet on the ground of the Outer Ward.

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"IN THE NAME OF MY GOD! HIS WILL DIVINE! FALL FROM GRACE!"
Ginther felt the strength of his arms twinge as his blade took the blow full on and recovered, shoving the form of Astelan back. Ginther was wild, his attacks reckless and over-bearing, yet even for that, the Avenging Son charged head on. The divine fury of the War God seemed with him. Ginther, for all his might, was forced to give ground. Hammer blows rang against his mighty weapon and his footing became stumbled in the face of the divine engine of vengeance. His muscles bulged and clenched, he felt his weight shift, and with an arc of lightning about his flesh from the Vendetta Savant, Ginther fell to the ground.

"Now! Now I have thee beast! Take thine blasted form from this world and go to HELL!"
The sword was brought down and met with a ringing clash that was only equaled in tolling by the bells that suddenly rang in Astelan's head as a fist sent his sprawling aside.

Tornne would have no such thing.
Once more he was given the flesh of man, a parting gift by the fleeting power of the Black Lantern.
"Man I once was, man I am once again! A barbarian prince thrives in my blood!" He took his sword in a two-handed grip and sneered.
"ON YOUR FEET BROTHER! ON YOUR FEET DIVINE SON!"
Ginther gripped his blade, lurched to his feet, and as one, The Brothers Grimm, the blood of the battlefield, struck toward the last bastion of light. For his might, Astelan met them head on and a sight so intense, the gods on high had to shield there eyes, took place.

Metal screamed against metal as the Twins of Battle struck against the Son of Light.
The Lion Blade was burning brand of holiness, Plaguespoil and The Manslayer a whirling dervish of destruction.
The three locked in a tight circle of conflicting energies, their blades striking sparks from each other and the stones alike as they scraped the ground. Each passing moment, Astelans rage grew, his divine will and resolve strengthened and
for a moment, a single moment, the wrath of a god was his.
The Manslayer and Tornne fought with all the savagery of their kin, a score of nicks and cuts, scraps and gashes making themselves seen on the armor and flesh of their foe. Tornne, at first taking the lead, but as the adrenaline of his 'rebirth' left him, his body, unaccustomed to its own weight for so long, began to flag. Ginther, without pause, took up the advance and yet he too soon became diminished. What had started as an overwhelming assault soon became a battle for footing and deathstrokes.

Astelan defied them both.
He cried out for his gods punishing hand, the blessed aim, and chanted battle hymns while striking like a storm.
He saw his strike and lashed out in a perfect arc.
The Lion Blade, blessed be it's name, struck true.
Through blade, through gristle and flesh, muscle and bone, not once...but twice.

Shock, confusion, release.

Tornne could see Ginther on his right, but between them, another.
I am the Anthem....
Ginther could see Tornne on his left, yet another stood between them, facing Astelan in that last act.
Hollow be my name...

Two bodies fell in unison.
Twin broken blades clattered against stark ice and stone.
Though worlds apart and yet made of the same once more...
The Brothers Grimm, blood of the battlefield, died as they had lived.
Together.

In a spray of exploding blood and gore, meat and bone, they were gone.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Kaome Sky Deathand
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ZO: Eye of the Storm

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Sat Dec 27, 2008 8:27 pm

Night had come.
Night had passed.
Day broke.

Almost impossible to tell the difference between the two, yet they came all the same.
Both sides had withdrew from the battlefield, a plain now choked with so many bodies the stench of death was permanently hanging in the air, and in the earth itself. No carrion birds came, the bodies languished and rotted with unnatural decomposition rates. The snuffing of the Black Lantern unleashed a final plague that would haunt the land for hundreds of years.
A single horn sounded somewhere on the battlefield...lost to both sides.

Astelan outlined the attack plan with pointed directness.
He had been spared the life-claiming waste that Ginther unleashed by his Gods divine might, but he felt less than himself.
"Once more..." He stated, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Dins, take the center...Zhall will be your relief once you break through." They nodded.
"Ztera, Solana, cover the east."
"Hanz..." He paused. "Are you sure you want to go?"
The Devil Takenuma nodded only once.
"So be it...you have your orders...Go."

- - -

Kephket made simple pointed directions and people knew where to be.
Center To Legion.
West To Rikter.
East To Aurora Lunera.

Satisfied she turned back to Exuro, who nodded approval...his will done.
She turned away from him, looking towards the west.

- - -

Grayl had been at it for almost two days now.
The spell was immensely intricate. This far along he took his time to pronounce the correct words and coax the Rift to do what it was he wished. Janise stood by, faithful to the orders he had given her. Soon however, she would have a different task to take...one that could not fail, lest all be ruined.
Grayl started the next line with ease and left those thoughts to a better time.

--------------------------------------------------------

Time marched on as preparations were made.
Yet only He watched.
A horn sounded, a shout came up, and the Order charged once more into the teeth of the Bane.

--------------------------------------------------------

One day has passed since the Blood Avatar fell.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Kaome Sky Deathand
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ZO: Visions of Chaos

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Mon Jan 05, 2009 12:21 pm

Author Note: Once again, the next few segments will be happening at the same time rather than in chronological order.
I'll start with the center, since that seems to be what people want the most. ~Kao
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once more the two great powers clashed at the edge of the world.
Myriad unleashed his numbers, meeting the Order just outside the bounds of the Outer Wards walls. Great plumes of smoke left black marks against the sky as numerous pyres burned the remains of hundreds of the once living. The men of the Order now struck with vengeance in their hearts for those comrades they lost in the first act of this final chapter. Myriad gave them the same unattached foes to fight, unfeeling, uncaring, relentless. Still the men fought, each moment carried by the deeds of the dead and the sight of their ultimate goal, just beyond reach.

The forward thrust at the center was led by Kisrug Dins.
The Ascendant struck forth from the Orders camp and plowed full on into the enemy lines. Those before him fell like the winter wheat, the men of the Order struggling to keep up with his advance. A scant candle mark had passed before Dins was at the base of the breech made by Zhall at the Main Gates, seemingly almost so very long ago. He turned to usher an advance and for his distraction was almost rewarded with death.
The figure plunged from the sky with a serrated spear with such speed it was all Dins could do to throw himself out of the way. He turned to lunge with his blades, finding that the mysterious figure had all but vanished in a puff of gray smoke. Dins had no time to glance around, already, once again, caught up in destroying the skeletal warriors that came before him in a set of blindingly fast strikes from his blades.
It was only when they cleared, he realized that he was closer to his foe than he could have hoped for.

Legion stood in swathing robes of black and gray.
The outer layers of his garb were a maddening vision of twisting energies that took on the look of a star filled sky as it rippled in the northern wind. The arcane symbols etched upon its surface writhed with inner power, their edges in a skewed and perverted geometry that never added up correctly at any time. In his weathered right hand, Legion held the Obsidian Depth, a gnarled branch of some ancient tree that had never seen the light of the Anti-Void, but grew in the black light of the twilight realm. It was a weapon as much as it was a key to a place beyond places.
Legions face, sneering ever so slightly, was marked by taint.
His flesh had run to pale long ago, his veins turning into black lines of flowing power beneath his skin. His eyes were like pits of dark glass filled with dying suns, the halo around his pupils a vibrant orange and red. He bore his gaze through Kisrug Dins and saw nothing but revenge.

No preamble, no words of challenge.
As Legion began to open his mouth, Dins threw himself full fold into the fight.
His charge was ended not with a blade in Legions throat, but into the unyielding body of an Oundoune Guardian.
Every strike he made was stopped by the thick muscled hide of the Guardian legion. Striking at both body and neck, Dins crumpled the legion into fading dust. He had just enough time to turn with blade at the ready, when he was turned on the defense. Three figures in light plate, the color of settling dust, charged as one, striking high and low, thrusting for unarmored flesh. Kisrug Dins threw himself out of combat, twisting to avoid the straight silver, before clattering the other two blows aside with his own. The three advanced under the direction of Legions mind.
Striking high and low as one, feinting and thrusting with blows and counter-blows to keep Dins dancing to the tune of their master. Dins gritted his teeth and blazed through the the three like a furious storm. Weapons shattered, armor crumpled, and the figures vanished like morning mist.
I shall ease your pain...
Dins flung himself backwards as five smokey figures landed as one with great swords in their hands cleaving the earth where Dins had been just moments before. Just as soon as they had appeared, they vanished with but a thought, eyes smoldering behind their masks.

Legion gestured for Dins with his left hand.
"Not impressed, you used to be a lot more difficult to predict...."
Dins snarled and lunged, charging headlong into a Guardian legion with enough force to shatter the construct. Another took it's place before Legion, Dins blades smashing against it with little effect. Legion himself spoke a canticle of half-heard words whose end effect was whirling, spinning, diamond edged blades that floated around him in unpredictable patterns. Dins was forced to retreat from the onslaught or risk annihilation. On the back foot, Dins evaded out of combat for a moment. Legion was laughing, dark and ugly, dispersing the blades with a simple motion of his hand.
"This is getting old Legion, don't you have any new tricks or is that old dog adage lacking like yourself."
Legion huffed, replying with equal disdain;
"As always you speak without any respect to powers far beyond your meager comprehension."

With that Legion raised his staff to the sky and unleashed a spell of such sound and fury that for a moment the Ascendant was filled with such foreboding feeling he flinched on the field of war.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Kaome Sky Deathand
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ZO: Visions of Honor

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Tue Jan 13, 2009 12:09 am

The hilt of the blade made a small clink as Hanzaemon the Devil sheathed his sword once more.
Behind him some handful of skeletons and an odd baneite fell as one, chest cavities slashed open, sternums split, and skulls bisected. More stood in his path as he raised his eyes to glare through them. He saw nothing but darkness residing in each and every foe. They came to him in a mass and with four simple strokes had leveled seven skeletons. Again the scabbard at his side resonated a small clink as the sword was slid home.
Then, his eyes came alight with a new kind of look. For on the field stood a lone figure, in his hands a sword of excellence.

It was only then he felt the first few drops of rain.
They fell from the sky without prejudice, washing over everyone with equal ferocity.

Rikter stood across from the man they called 'The Devil' and felt the air curl around him.
Damnation resonated a subtle hiss, telling a tale of glory should Rikter strike the man down. The Thrice-Damned Bladestorm looked for a fleeting instant back toward the Bastion and then focused his attention once more to the man.

Rain began to fall in a slow and steady rhythm.
The sounds of clattering blades and shrieking men became an endless waltz, a tune the two could dance to.

Rikter struck first, Damnation singing in his hands.
The Devil countered lightning fast, his blade springing from its resting place in a fluid motion.
For a moment they stood there, the rain falling with greater force, as if the sky itself willed them to combat.
A single drop broke into two perfect halves on the edge of Hanzaemons sword....Rikter struck from his right, before feinting in an arc and striking to the left low. Hanz was forced to draw back his blade and shift his stance, but leveled a slash in a graceful arc that climaxed a scant centimeter from the bridge of Rikters nose. Lightning flashed in the clouds as Rikter performed an arcing slash designed to split a man from groin to crown. The Devil leaned back out of the way, clattering Damnation aside and thrusting forward. Rikter twisted his body out of the path and unleashed a ferocious cross-slash that Hanz was forced to give ground before.

Again the two parted, each in their respective stance.

"Not bad for a Human...." Rikter stated. "...you are at the very least, worthy of Damnations bite."
Hanzaemon said nothing, but nodded slowly.
Rikter changed stances, holding high into the air at his right with two hands.
"I am Rikter, The Thrice Damned."
"I am the Devil..." Hanzaemon replied. "...Hanzaemon of the Fallen Lotus."
Rikter grunted quietly.
"Then come warrior...we have much to discuss..."

The two moved as one each striking a perfect arc, Rikters over, Hanzaemons under.
The two opposing blades met with a ringing crash that broke the air around them, sending droplets of water in a perfect sphere of tranquility unseen since before the war. The two locked eyes and knew this is what they had been seeking their entire life. A flash of lightning, a crash of thunder and...
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

User avatar
Kaome Sky Deathand
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Posts: 1175
Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

ZO: Visions of the Past

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Thu Jan 15, 2009 8:53 pm

Aurora stood at the head of a vast horde of chattering skeletons.
The way was chocked with ash and smoke, still rising from the section of the moon that fell so many hours before. Although it easily concealed the vast troop movement, the same could be said of the Orders forces. Aurora had no idea what she was facing just through that fog. Since the last battle against the Order, she felt strange, as if some burden had been lifted from her shoulders after such a long time. It almost felt as if...
The signal was sounded.
Aurora signaled the skeletons to advance before her. They vanished into the fog as a single mass and for a moment Aurora was nearly swept up in the tide of moving bones. With a deep breathe, the fallen archer collected herself and entered the swirling smoke.

* * *

"KEEP ZUMA BETWEEN US!"
Ztera could hardly hear Solana over the crashing din of combat.
So far they had dove into the enemy lines with light casualties, the spear head of the force consisting mostly of Zumas sheer strength and ferocity. It was all the men of the Order could do to keep the line steady in face of the enemies assault. Solana let loose another batch of arrows, scything down an advancing force on the right as Zuma plunged into the skeletons before her. Ztera held the left with deftly aimed shots, but was better at reading the advancing tide and directing Zuma to the thickest areas. Between them all, Myriad was no match, falling like the winter wheat.

"PRESS ON!" Solana shouted.
The men of the Order responded with a cheer.
In the blink of an eye, a row of men fell, arrow shafts sticking out of their necks and faces. It was all Solana could do to dodge as the next volley fell and cut down the closest men, halting the advance of the Order in its tracks. Zuma weathered the storm, protecting Ztera and his face with a massive paw. Roaring in challenge, Zuma pawed the ground, eager to chase the enemy down. Yet here in the swirling smoke of the still smoldering crater, the attackers vanished like a ghost.

"Solana..."
She spun, hearing her name whispered.
She cast her keen eye into the cloying smog but could find no source.
The advance had all but broken down by now, the men fumbling forward into the thick smoke with a wary guard. Even so, most fell without a sound. Blackened shafts protruding from throats or between armored segments. Each time only a fleeting glimpse of the foe was caught before they faded into the gray. Slowly, the men advanced in tight groups, shields up and ready to face their ambushers.

* * *

Far behind the slowly shifting line, Aurora ordered the next ambush of her Drifter sisters forward.
It had taken a small fortune to collect their services after the defeat at the Advent, but Aurora found in them an outlet. At least they were still like her, not a creature from another world. They had learned much under her guiding arm and now were eager to show their mistress just how well they could strike at the Order.
She was pleased with their loyalty to her.
It would mean a lot in the coming hours....
Gathering her bow from where it rested, Aurora dashed once more into the swirling gray.

* * *

"Solana..."
Again, her name was whispered on the wind.
Frantically she searched the smoke for any signs of her foe. Zuma was breathing rough and heavy, making more noise than the shifting army. The smoke did nothing to help her keen sight and all she could smell and feel was ash and blood. No matter where she turned her gaze, there was nothing to see but the billowing clouds.
"Where are you?" She whispered.
"Here..."
She didn't even have time to breathe before the knife was against her throat.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Kaome Sky Deathand
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Posts: 1175
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ZO: Visions of Sin

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Fri Jan 16, 2009 6:20 pm

"Janise..."
She was by his side in a blur.
Grayl had found another natural rest in the lengthy spell work and decided that the time had come.
"...bring me her body."
She was gone in an instant.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

User avatar
Kaome Sky Deathand
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Posts: 1175
Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

ZO: Visions of Shadow

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Sun Feb 01, 2009 10:58 pm

Darkness had erupted forth from a chaos gate, sweeping across the field around Legion like an angry phantom.
Kisrug Dins guarded himself reflexively, watching with hawk eyes for any tell-tale shapes moving in the thick shadow. He swept his blades around him in a figure eight before taking a few tentative steps into the abyss. Nothing but the swirling mist, a flicker or two of energy feedback, small ball lightning playing at the corners of the storm but nothing...then a shape back lit for only a moment. It could only be one man. Dins seethed, letting his blades ring out as he brought them together for a moment, before propelling himself forward into the darkness. His blades flashed and the figure crumpled between them before fading into nothingness. A sly chuckle rolled across his hearing, almost as if...
Enraged, Dins brought down a Shatter Star, clearing the darkness that surrounded him. He just had time to catch the glimpse of Legion before the shadow swam back together and two blades dove to take his head. Metal rang on metal.

"Been a long time...Kisrug..."
Dins couldn't believe what he was seeing, so struck by the sight of the figure before him, he caught a foot to the gut and another that sent him sprawling in the ground. That dark chuckle followed him. Grasping his blades, Dins got to his feet and slashed wildly at the shadow before him.
"HOW? HOW!?!"
The man made no reply, just smiling his damned smile, parrying each and every attack as casually as a man getting a glass of water. Dins kept hammering away, a blur, a wild force of nature, striking from different directions and putting his weight behind unsound blows. Still the figure kept his ground, taking everything Dins could throw out with relative ease, not even trying to press an opening. Kisrug made another lunge and was greeted with open air, the form of man having simply vanished.

"Come now Kisrug Dins...we have so much catching up to do...will you not focus?"
"DAMN YOU! STAND STI-" The reply Kisrug had attempted was cut short by a fist into his throat. He fell to his knees coughing, choking, sputtering, trying to remember how to breathe again. That dark chuckle again. Kisrug dropped a series of Shatter Stars, cratering the ground and throwing up debris. He found his mark and executed a quick strike against the figure. His blades passed through it as if it was made of water.
"COWARD!" he roared into the air.
"Face me again!"

- - -

Legions brow was sweating, the sheer amount of energy it required for a Thanatos legion was almost beyond his limits.
The cantrip he recited also ensured that the darkness around him was kept in motion. Myriad used it to his advantage, striking against the Order soldiers before slinking back into the abyss. Even so, it was all he could do to keep them at bay. He had to wait for his moment, when he could strike with his legions and end Dins life in a single stroke. Legion had no idea what Kisrug Dins was seeing in the Thanatos legion, but whatever it was, it affected him more than even his own presence perturbed the warrior.
He kept reciting the cantrip as the two figures before him clashed again.

"I don't know what they did to bring you back, but I swear you will never return to this world again!"
Dins brought his blades down again, but the shadow before him was no longer there.
"Pathetic. A meaningless effort."
"How so wretch?" Dins replied, keeping his guard up.
"I will return again and again and again. Banish me to the beyond, bury my bones into the ground. It will not matter..." The voice assailed Dins from all directions. "...I'll live in your nightmares Dins, that will suffice."
The blade was sharp, it cut through the flesh of his arm before he even knew it was there.
Kisrug spun, ignoring the wound, only to see the same swirling mist before him. He charged headlong into that swirling vortex, lashing out, his blood up, cutting at phantoms. All the while that chuckle assailed him, mocked him, corrupted his thoughts. Dins dropped a Shatter Star and pushed onward executing a tight arc that brought him to the feet of the ghastly figure.

"I shall ease your pain..."
Darkness consumed him.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Kaome Sky Deathand
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ZO: Visions of Nobility

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Mon Feb 16, 2009 3:09 am

...and Rikter opened his eyes.
Across the way, the human known as 'the Devil' opened his eyes as well. In the dreamscape of their warrior minds they envisioned possibilities, could have been, would have been, may have, has yet to be. No rain fell, for sure it was far too cold to have rain in this place. That too came to their minds, the water adding to the music of clashing armies. Minds worked better when there was a natural rhythm to the task. Slowly Rikter nodded his head and took a stance at an easy pace. Lifting his blade to a ready position, making sure his footing was in order, the taste of the air, the direction of the wind. The aura around them both grew calm, for that was when it was its most dangerous. Rikter oft compared his battle awen to the Blood Avatar. When it roared and yelled and smashed its way, it was ready to kill. When it whispered in a low voice, it was ready to kill everything. Rikter brought his sword up and then lunged....

...and Hanzaemon opened his eyes.
Across the way, the Baneite known as 'The Edge of Desolation' opened his eyes as well. In the dreamscape of their warrior minds they envisioned possibilities, could have been, would have been, may have, has yet to be. No rain fell, for sure it was far too cold to have rain in this place. That too came to their minds, the water adding to the music of clashing armies. Minds worked better when there was a natural rhythm to the task. Slowly Hanzaemon nodded his head and took a stance at an easy pace. Gripping his scabbard to a ready position, making sure his footing was in order, the taste of the air, the direction of the wind. The aura around them both grew calm, for that was when it was its most dangerous. Hanzaemon knew that this would be quick. When two master swordsmen took to the field it was not a dance of one-thousand strokes. It would all be decided in three moves of equal simplicity. Not attacks that have taken years to master nor techniques that were most taxing. The most basic steps of swordsmanship would decide the outcome. The Devil Takenuma tensed and lunged.

Metal rang out on metal.
On opposite sides now the two warriors stood form their positions. Hanzaemon sheathed his sword once more. Rikter turned and offered a polite chuckle. The Devil Takenuma turned to face the Baneite and gave him a perplexed look.
"What is it Demon?"
"Standard Hien...what are the odds?"
Hanzaemon allowed the ghost of a smile to play on his features.
It was true, they had both performed the exact same attack and thus, canceled each other out.

Rikter took a two-handed back grip like Ginther had showed him.
Hanzaemon unsheathed his blade slowly and held it above him in two hands.
They moved like the wind.

Metal rang out on metal.
Hanzaemon had his sword extended and his body stretched out.
Rikter plunged his sword into the ground, rested his hand on the pommel and laughed out loud.
"Tell me why?" the Ronin asked, sheathing his sword.
"I read it in your eyes at the last moment..."
"Tch..." was the Ronins reply. His eyes showed the mirth however.

Hanzaemon took a skewed stance and closed his eyes.
Rikter held Damnation before him and tunneled his vision.
There was a whisper of movement as their feet defied gravity.

There was blood everywhere.

Rikter caught the human with his left hand, propping him up.
There was so much blood, pouring from the mans face, scars on his body reopened and Rikter recoiled as the normally red fluid came out sickish with a black hue. Rikter smelled the blood magic of the God and closed his eyes. He felt the metal in his side but ignored it. It was just a graze. The humans attack had been thrown off, he had seen the blood fly out and halted his own attack just in time to catch the man. It would be so easy just to stab him in the back as he lay dying, or let him linger there in agony...to snap his neck or break his spine with a deft motion.

Rikter felt cheated.
He held the man up and grasp his sword arm.
Reflexively the man tensed.
"Let me help..." Rikter breathed.
The man relented, relaxing his grip, then spat out blood in a mangled cry as the steel of his own sword punched through his lungs. Rikters motion had been so fast and so fierce, Hanzaemon didn't have a chance to slow it. It was only when he looked down he saw the blade impaling the creature in the chest. Straight into the Baneites heart.

I am the Anthem...
Hanzaemon heard the voice, turning his head.
Hollow be my name...
The Ronin could see the Baneites mouth move but couldn't hear anything.
I see...and does he agree?
"Agre-" The Ronin spat blood. "To wha?" More dribbled out.
The creature he could hear finally came into view and was so beautiful he could not glance at it for long.
This baneite, Rikter, he wants to fight you on a field of battle...
"He did..." More blood. "He won..."
The creature, Hollow, shook his head.
A fair field of battle...one where the two of you can settle this between just the two of you with no outside influence....a place that I...can set aside for you...

The Ronin took in the creature once more.
"What..." blood. "...are you?"
Accept warrior...and one day I will tell you...
The Ronin hung his head, glanced up at the Baneite that almost...almost as if he pleaded with his eyes.
"Yes..."
Done...

Hollow touched them both on the head and in a blinding flash of white light...
...they were gone.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

User avatar
Kaome Sky Deathand
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Posts: 1175
Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

ZO: Visions of Regret

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Tue Feb 24, 2009 12:28 am

"Please...don't do anything stupid...I don't think your friend would appreciate it."
Twilight Solana gritted her teeth, letting a low growl escape her. She could see just a few feet away in the mist and smoke the form of Ztera and Zuma with numerous combatants surrounding them. The great beast snorted a gust from its mouth and issued a growl of its own. Ztera whispered something to it and it sat on the ground.

"Aurora...you traitorous little b-"
Solana had her head snapped back as her sister pulled her hair, cutting her off.
"Shut up and listen will you!" Lunera snapped. "I didn't go through all this trouble just to let you act like this."
Solana twitched in her sisters 'embrace' and seethed. "Let me go and I'll show you exactly what I plan on do-"
Lunera kicked her sister to the ground and jumped on her body, pinning her to the dirt.
"SHUT UP AND LISTEN!"
For a long moment there was nothing but the intake of breath.

"I'm going to get off of you now and put away my knife...please...just listen."
Slowly the bow maiden released her hold on her sibling, slithered to the side and sheathed her naked blade. Likewise Solana slowly pulled herself upright and glared at her sister. She spat a little gob of blood from her busted lip and sneered. Aurora sighed, trying not to shake and met her sisters gaze.

"I saw her Sola." she spoke softly, using the name she had labeled her sister as a child.
"I saw her plain as day...as soon as Scillio did..." she glanced aside. "...whatever it was he did."
Solana said nothing.
Lunera took a deep breath and tried to tell her story. "She said she couldn't talk to me when he had his fingers in my head...that he had tainted my mind from its true self and pulled me away." She almost began to cry. "She said she knew what I should do and told me how to do it. She said you would listen and when the time came we could be together again...all of us...together." She looked into the mist as the tears began to well up.

"Who?" Twilight Solana asked.
"Mom." Aurora Lunera answered.

Slowly Twilight Solana leaned forward and embraced her sister.
The flood gate opened and the two of them cried on the middle of a battlefield. The women, the Drifters, lowered their weapons and stood in silence. Ztera rushed over and Zuma plodded along at a more circumspect pace. Kneeling to their level the battle maven placed her hands on Solana's shoulder and shook her gently.
"Hey, hey...what the hecks going on?"
Red-eyed, but joyful, Twilight Solana let out a small laugh and looked at Ztera.
"Little Z, this is my sister...Aurora..."
Ztera, having heard stories looked over at Lunera, back to Solana, then back to Lunera again.
"Uhm..."

"I'm defecting..." The bow maiden stated bluntly with a small smile.
"As of right now I am no longer a slave to the Bane."
Ztera looked at her a moment longer, then broke into a big grin.
"Hey! That means we'll have a good tactical on the inside layout now right!?" Before either could answer, the battle maven motioned for Zuma to come over. The great Scarr Elder Bear thumped over and looked at the three women before him.
"Good Zuma!" Ztera turned back to Lunera. "This is Zuma. Everyone calls him Big Z." She looked back at the bear and stated: "Zuma, Friend!" The beast nuzzled his wet nose into Auroras open palm and let out a sound like a tired man content with a good meal. Ztera laughed.
"Now he'll protect you forever!"

The smile that played itself on Aurora's face melted as sure as snowflakes in Hell when the black bolt whipped by.
As one they turned, and Zuma let out an earth shaking roar of a challenge.

Jhita was furious, he would not let the whore escape without paying for her sin with her life.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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Kaome Sky Deathand
Assessor of the Black Tontine
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Joined: Tue Jan 15, 2008 12:14 am
Location: Lingering at Life

ZO: Visions of Sacrifice

Post by Kaome Sky Deathand » Tue Mar 31, 2009 1:34 pm

Dins went sprawling in the dirt, the blow from the living shadow ripping the breath from him, plunging the warrior into a world quite beyond pain. Dins was numb from the shock, not only of the blow, but by the one who cast it. Even now, as he slowly raised his head and faced his opponent once more, he could not understand what he saw. There before him, writhing and billowing like unnatural smoke, stood Azzr.
It had been years, since that fated battle that claimed the shadows life. Yet here, now, at the end of all things, Kisrug Dins was once more facing a foe that almost claimed his own life. An opponent that was vicious, cunning, and cruel. Another kick sent Dins rolling across the ground, but he found his lungs again and stumbled to his feet. Gritting his teeth, the Celestial Warrior controlled his quivering body, took up his blades in readiness and lunged at his foe.

His blades met empty air and the harsh grating laughter of a bygone foe.
A slick cold lashed across his back and Dins fell to the ground, barking back a scream.
It had been so long since his body had tasted Azzr's blades and now it remembered the sick and twisted pain they caused. Yet the cut sharpened the warriors senses, telling him to fight or be slaughtered. Kisrug Dins got to his feet and met the next attack with his own blades.

"Ah, I see you've finally come to grips with yourself..." Azzr chuckled his dark chuckle.
"I put you in your place once shadow, I will not hesitate to do so again!"
Metal rang out on metal, blades clashing with such fury that sparks flew off of them like a storm of fire. They were everywhere, a rolling cloud of black smoke and a half-glimpsed ghost of a warrior, probing, circling, striking. Soldiers nearby could not follow the two as they danced with death. Some trembling with such fear that they could not carry the fight.
Yet it was Dins that flagged, It was the Celestial Warrior whos limbs were weary and whos body was scarred by previous battles on the same field. Azzr pressed his advantage and the stalemate was broken, Dins on the defensive, his every stroke to turn his enemies blades aside. Azzr billowed and his rolling form crept out to encircle Dins, clouding his sight, trying to fill him with dread and despair. Attacks came from the darkness surrounding the warrior now and in that darkness Legion struck.

Dins spat blood upon the ground.
He could not recall how he had fallen, but made himself to stand.
He managed to get to his knees before he felt a familiar weight on his mind as Legion stepped forth from the rolling clouds of black abyss. He tried to stand, but the clouds pressed against him, keeping him upon the ground. He looked to see legions holding him, their forms and visage all the same. He turned his head to find Azzr, but in the black abyss there was no sight of the living darkness.

"Dins..." Legion spat.
"...so it finally comes to an end. Your long tale ends at my feet. as it was meant to be."
Kisrug tried to get to his feet, but the legions held him tight. Legion tsked.
"No Dins, not this time...I have broken you and soon your blasted form will be held for all to see."
The Host of Many leaned down to whisper in his foes ear.
"Azzr had the right of it so long ago...one glimpse of him and you lose yourself entirely. Pathetic."
Standing straight again, Legion raised his staff and stared in disgust.
"You are less than nothing Kisrug Dins..."

...nothing...
Dins started to laugh.
The skies above turned over, as if mirroring the war that took place beneath them.
Kisrug Dins raised his lowered head and spoke:
"I am what time has made me out to be..."
The first meteor smote down the legions and cleared out the smoke.
Legion raised a protective field on reflex but it would not be enough to stop what had begun.
"For who I am is indeed nothing...and in nothing I have everything!"
Anger grew in his voice and as he got to his feet, the storm of meteors rained down with such force that the Outer Ward to the great fortress was fractured. Men of the Order fell back, Myriad pressed forth to ruin Dins before he could finish, yet it was for naught. The meteors fell so thick that not a single skeleton could press forth. Legion summoned his Guardians to the fullest of his extent and fled from the form of Dins.

"...but that which could be sought."
Dins raised his arms to the heavens and called down the end.
Cruor Vult

Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion,
simultaneously the source of our greatest strength, and our greatest weakness.

Soon we shall be One...joined in the Word.

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