| Welcome to Imythess, the border between dreams and reality. We hope you enjoy your visit. Imythess is a creative writing board where you narrate the story of a character in the medieval land of Imythess, on the planet Chaon. Each topic is an opportunity for your character to interact with the world and its peoples by cooperatively writing pieces of a story with other members, one post at a time. We call this role-playing, because you assume the identity of your character as if it were your own. In order to play, you must register an account for each character you would like to write about, and begin their tale by filling out their basic profile information: Race (human, elf, demon, etc.), class (warrior, mage, etc.), physical appearance, and any other personal details you would like to describe. You are also encouraged to come up with some background history information for what your character's life has been like up to the point at which their story in Imythess begins. There is no approval process or application required to join, so long as you follow the rules then you are free to write whatever character details you choose. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Create a character now! If you're already a member, you can log into your account below: |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
| [P] Fending off the Frosts; Private; GrP; Ahriman | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Sun Feb 6, 2011 1:56 am (881 Views) | |
| Eliel | Sun Feb 6, 2011 1:56 am Post #1 |
![]() ![]()
|
Luriel stood at the edges of the Ancient City, a shiver running down his spine. The cloaked and hooded figure stood in the arches to the ruins, onto the path leading directly to the cemetery. Dead still, the figure was featureless, hidden beneath the long, sleeved cloak, large hood, and behind the bronze and steel mask over his face. The undead were here. In spades. Taking a step, the man’s body changed a small amount, for the most part unnoticeably. Thorned, bony protrusions extended from the knuckles of his fist. Horns curled back around his ears, jutting forward, curving at an angle towards each other around the mask. Drawing his blade, the angel rubbed his thumb over the ring on his left ring finger, touching it to the metal of his mask before walking into the metaphorical firestorm. A skeleton clacked along on its lonesome, straying from the cemetery. Bits of cloth and rotted flesh hung off its ribcage, swaying with each step. Spotting the angel, it emotionlessly turned and started its swift return to the graveyard. Scout. Wings of white fire erupted from the back of the cloak and propelled him forward, holy energy imbuing his weapon. As he approached, the skeleton slowed, the weak negative energy holding it together interfering with his aura. Thinking better of the bladed weapon against a bone foe, Luriel seized the retreating foe’s spine, tightening his grip. Flexing his arm, he ripped it upwards, tearing the column away. No longer connected to the head, the legs tumbled. Grabbing it by the head, he pressed the heels of both hands to its skull, using a quick spell to make the bone immensely fragile. Like paper, the smooth, white skull crumpled. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Ahriman Lordimar | Sun Feb 6, 2011 2:14 am Post #2 |
![]() ![]()
|
The devil's rotten luck cursed him up and down the rocky features of Imythess for the past month. First, his travels took him through a fire-riddled village, then he was forced into endless combat with the garbage of balefire, and not to mention his crew starting a war with the Taras Dock's personal guard force. None of that really amounted to the feeling of rage Ahriman felt when considering his luck now. Walking through the ancient ruins, he suspected a some-what quiet path back to the road, and what he found was shambling horrors brought to life by some mastermind's insideous scheming. The first one he met was a simple skeleton, the lifeless eyes of it staring him down through the entire encounter. It's frozen form sent chills down the Pirate's spine, and the almost mechanical movement of it's body as it came in on him, stabbing and deflecting blows all through it's stubborn fight. But he was no fool, and he was no weakling. Ahriman ducked under the blows, a swift slash from his masterwork blade cutting the undead horror's arm straight from the shoulder. He came in upon it again, removing it's upper body at the skeleton, and jumping to the side then under it to stop the sound of it's falling bones to echo across the graveyard. He was dedicated to remaining as silent as he could in this venture. As a flash of light drew his attention, however, he felt that part of his mission slowly slipping away. The man slipped into the shadows now, hiding behind trees and gravestones, in the darkest shadows he could as he caught sight of the winged angel, turning an undead to ash before it could even warrant a defense. His greater sense told him to avoid the man, but if these undead were supported by a necromancer nearby the pirate understood he had no chance in the nine hells of getting through the ruins alone... and the time wasted going the other way was a fools errand and a waste of what little supplies he had left. As more undead began moving from the dead trees towards the angel, he decided now was a good a time as any to prove they weren't enemies. His form moved like lightning over the dead grass, barely a sound coming from him as he came from behind an undead, planting his blade into it's skeletal spine, and easily dodging back out of it's counter blow. The frost coming from it's bones chilled his fingers, causing his knuckles to whiten. His golden eyes just became more resolute as he dodged and parried blow after blow from the skeleton, waiting for it to overstep it's balance and cutting through it's middle just as he did the last one, before bringing his boot down upon it's skull. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Eliel | Sun Feb 6, 2011 2:52 am Post #3 |
![]() ![]()
|
Luriel dropped the skeleton’s remains at his feet, glancing around. The activity had drawn the attention of more. Lifting Luriel, he spun to face the first opponent, slashing the blade through bone smoothly. The holy energy of the blade interfered with the magic holding the construct together, separating extremities as the force holding it together began to disintegrate. Lifting his arm, he slammed the horned protrusions into the sternum. Bone cracked and the skeleton was knocked backwards, frost creeping on them from the contact. Leaving the wounded opponent, he spun to face the next. It lay in a pile on the ground. On guard, Luriel brought his blade to bear, his wings casting shadows. He spotted the source at once, the man currently battling a second skeleton. Suspicious, the angel conjured a fireball, thinking to fire it at one of the frosty undead. The several undead left seemed to be invigorated by the warmth. Eyes narrowing beneath the mask, he poured soulfire into the spell. The heat increased tenfold, accompanied by a strong wash of holy magic. The undead seemed put off by the spell, beginning to part around him. Cocking his arm, he fired off the ball of white flame. It broke against a zombie, fire roaring around its form as if it had been made of pure alcohol, spreading to devour the beast. Walking forward calmly, he reached and seized a ribcage, exposed by the consuming flame, and roared, throwing it into two other undead. The fire spread, lapping at arms and heads. On his right hand, the angelic sigil scarred there burned with an intense white light. Luriel turned his attention to Ahriman, lifting his blade to point at his belly, yards away. Wings of white flame curved around his form, forming a barrier. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Ahriman Lordimar | Sun Feb 6, 2011 3:06 am Post #4 |
![]() ![]()
|
Ahriman wasn't fully aware of the white flame that devoured the undead around him, his eyes centered solely on the undead that seemed to begin flooding around him. He body writhed around every strike, blades passing just by his form and mauls missing him by inches as each of them came in on them. He cocked his hand back, creating a balled shape in his hand as he tested how he could make this work to keep himself from a rather cold demise, "Mend ossa, carne e cucire insieme!" The holy magic of the heal spell wrapped itself around his fingers and he slammed his hand into the face of an undead, the healing energy burning itself into the undying beast, causing it's bony form to sprawl backwards and hiss and cackle it's bones together. Taking the moment of reprieve, he cleaved another of the undead with his weapon, slamming into it's legs as it crumbled in to ensure the beast wouldn't get up again in any form of the world. In a moment he brought his weapon around, bringing the hilt down upon the first undead's skull, causing a crack to show in it's weakened skull and causing the bones to sprawl out in a cloud of dust and chilled wind. He turned towards the winged man with a little apprehesion as he finally noticed the blade being pointed at him. He tensed his muscles and looked over his shoulder, listening for the familiar sound of cackling bones. With a sigh, he turned his head back, lifting his free hand to uncover his mouth from his scarf, "I ain't yer enemy, and it doesn't seem ta' be the time we should be pointin' blades at one another, lad. I be Abel Metharis, and it seems we've both got an undead problem we should get ta' handlin." He didn't wait for the man to respond as another few undead passed through the shadows of the tombstones and trees, weapons and rusted armor in hand and covering their rotten flesh. His white eyes seemed to gleam with spirited anticipation. He knew he had little tools against these things, but he had to try to use what he had. Spinning his blade in his hand, let out a shrill whistle that almost hurt his ears as high as he did. The ground around them seemed to rumble for a moment, then stop. He wasn't sure what this would do for the other men, but the familiar feeling simply brought a smile to the pirate's face. With a nod to no one, he counted the seconds in his head. As the undead closed in on him, he looked to the nearby tree as it's form bent in on itself, crushing into the dirt. The snow white fur of his pet Yeti glinted in the low light as a roar passed it's lips. The beast didn't wait for a response as it rushed forward, a massive hand slamming down on a skeleton and crushing it's bones with the force. As the undead around it turned to blindly bear their blades at the yeti like the puppets they were, it just came in harder, pounding and stomping it's body over each undead in turn. With a smile he turned to the man again, "And she be Mora. She's an ally here, as well." |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Eliel | Sun Feb 6, 2011 3:20 am Post #5 |
![]() ![]()
|
Luriel frowned at the man. “For the time being. We will discuss this afterwards.” Spinning in place, the angel spread his wings, brushing the holy-burning flames against undead. They absorbed the fire, but the holy energy with it, making the creatures unusually frail. Sweeping his blade through the torso of a corpse, the steel parted flesh easily, burning away to ash around it. Severed in half, the zombie fell to the ground, being eaten away by flame. Luriel drew on his well of holy energy, drawing up an empowered greater healing spell, imbued with soulfire. Slapping the spell against the chest of a hulking zombie, the effect was almost explosive. The reaction between opposing energies burst outwards, crackling and tearing the body of the zombie to shreds. Flames shot up inside the body cavity, chasing up the neck and hollowing out the skull. Luriel slipped his imbued blade through the center of a zombie’s chest, pulling the sword back to slam the pommel into the skull of a skeleton. Throwing an elbow into the bony warrior’s ribs, he threw it to the side. Battle paused briefly when the yeti showed, rampaging through the undead force without hesitation. “Mora had best watch where she steps. I don’t take too well to being trampled.” Luriel’s tone was stony, but he smiled nonetheless, relaxing a bit. Whatever he may say, the yeti would prove a valuable ally. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Ahriman Lordimar | Sun Feb 6, 2011 3:31 am Post #6 |
![]() ![]()
|
Ahriman nodded to the man, taking the partial alliance for what it was. His form rippled, and he burst through the shadows. He sprang up in the center of a group of undead, the shadows licking around him as he appeared and severed another undead at the middle, bringing his blade up to parry a blow just in time as one gained it's composure against him. He did not wait for it to raise it's blade again, using his free hand to hold the monstrosities arm so it couldn't pull back, pushing it with all his force. He came with it before finally raising it into the air and pounding the rotting corpse into the dirt, taking a kick in the kidney for his trouble. After stumbling back a moment, he spun at the sound of another armored zombie coming from behind him. It felt like they were becoming a cloud of rotting death. He smiled as he could hear his furry ally ramping through the undead. She stayed close enough to her master so she wouldn't be surrounded, and he could not either, but kept her distance from the winged angel. Her hands froze over as she swung her arms as hard as she could over, and over. Each swing took another couple of undead with it, collapsing them against her unrelenting form and crushing any who would try to stop her beneath her feet. He was aware that the undead detested battle, but he was curious on her personal feelings of crushing such unliving things. He raised his hand again, a shadowy apparition raising from the shadow of a tree and rushing for the center of the graveyard. He could hear a disturbing amount of response from it, undead turning and trying to find it's source. While he was unhappy at the amount of undead that could mean they were against, at least the shadow would draw them from their location for a good bit of time. Working his way towards the angel, he cut and weaved through the dead like a marionette. As he finally got clear of the undead and within a few feet of the man, he turned his back to him, facing the undead coming from the other way with some determination, "From the sounds of it, Mora crushin' us might be a small matter. Would ye be against movin' into the graveyard and findin' the source of this? There has ta' be hundreds of masoleums a necromancer could hide in...." The thought of searching every single one of them was not a favorable one. The undead knew no exhuastion, that was well known... he didn't share that strength, and he wondered if his pseudo ally shared the weakness. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Eliel | Sun Feb 6, 2011 3:47 am Post #7 |
![]() ![]()
|
The angel continued his wholesale slaughter of the undead, sweeping his blade through their bodies, using a spell of healing here and there, throwing a fireball at a last skeleton. It shrieked through the night air, lighting up the grounds for a moment. The holy flames enveloped the undead, their immunity to fire finding no purchase in the rage of the flames. Cupping his left hand, Luriel summoned a small amount of holy water, sweeping his hand over the crowd of undead. More water produced as it left his hand, creating an arc of liquid, burning all undead flesh where it touched. It did little damage overall, but served well enough to drive the crowd a step back. Drawing back, Luriel turned to look at his semi-ally. “Seems a better idea than fighting off waves of the creatures.” turning, the angel dismissed the wings on his back, bringing darkness to the grounds as the last of the flames died out. “Doubtful the necromancer would be in a mausoleum. Maybe harvesting from them, but it would block off his power. Hard enough to send them out from within the gates of a cemetery. The walls are made to keep things in. Time, I suppose.” Luriel turned around, facing the heaps of undead lying motionless. Touching on an aspect of his being he rather disliked, he lifted a hand to the group of undead making their way towards them gradually. New magic moved through his veins. Lifting his blade, the angel focused the magic into the sword itself. “Cessare Motum” A wave of necromantic energy pulsated out from Luriel in a wave. The undead stopped moving immediately, some frozen mid-step. Unbalanced, many fell without resistance, lying motionless. “Let’s keep moving. They are merely stopped, not dead.” |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Ahriman Lordimar | Sun Feb 6, 2011 4:07 am Post #8 |
![]() ![]()
|
He nodded his head at the point of the necromancer's hiding place, understanding it simply enough. It'd be difficult enough focusing your power to keep all these moving, having to continually leave your abode to find more bodies would put a damper on things, quite heavily from the looks of the number of undead. With a few strikes of his blade, the numbers around him began to dwindle, his feet tapping each undead's shadow out of habit as they brought their weapons to bare upon the the man. He was barely grazed by any of the strikes, but he felt uncomfortable at the whole of the situation. He was taken aback as the man stopped the undead altogether, the necrotic power being something extremely unusual from someone so obviously skilled and focused at destroying the unholy beasts. He began to wonder if there was more to this man then met the eye, but dismissed the thought altogether. This was no time to be second-guessing alliances, and no time to waste an opportunity. With a nod he sprinted off in the direction of the center of the graveyard, letting off a whistle to indicate Mora to follow. The yeti listened obediantly to her master, her hulking form causing the ground around him to shake with each stride, but that didn't stop the able-bodied pirate. The way the seas rocked him in his normal life, a little shaking of the ground couldn't force him off of his feet. He used a gravestone as a stepping stone to jump up into a tree, his body nimbly finding hand and foot-hold one after another. As he reached the center of it, he stepped onto a branch and placed his back against the tree. He scanned carefully over the graveyard, resting his eyes upon a large source of noise in the center of the graveyard, the smell of pestilent flesh and corpse-rot wafting to his nose. With a furl of his brow, he dropped, hanging by one hand from the branch for a moment before rocking back and forth, and sending himself forward towards the earth. Gaining his composure, he drew the shortbow off of his back, and drew an arrow onto it. Firing it in that direction, he waited till the sound of arrow pounding into flesh rang out into his ears. He racked another arrow against the wood and let out another whistle, Mora coming over to lift her master onto her back. He sat carefully, leaning just slightly over her face to line his shot and send another arrow whistling into the crowd of undead. If they were going to go into the heart of the beast, he'd rather they be down a few men. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Eliel | Sun Feb 6, 2011 4:30 am Post #9 |
![]() ![]()
|
Luriel watched the man dart up into the tree, approving his choice not to bring up the action. The arrows would do little to the undead, but at least they’d do something. Facing the gate entry to the graveyard, Luriel observed the undead funneling through. Charging forward, the angel cast another halt undead spell, muttering the incantation under his breath. A large group of undead stopped all conscious movement, gravity pulling them to the ground, bowling over a couple that remained outside of the spell’s reach. Charging into the pile of rotting corpses, Luriel cast a new fireball, roaring in his hand. Planting a foot in the back of a zombie, he leapt and threw the shrieking missile into the pile of zombies. Flames erupted, crawling from zombie to zombie, using the stopper created by the frozen undead to bottle up fresher targets. Lu hit a corpse full on, landing with his knee in the creature’s belly. He came down hard, thrusting the blade into the undead’s eye socket. The blade punctured the back of the skull, driving into the dirt below. Burning through the skull, Luriel continued, drawing attention to himself. Pointing the blade at a group of three bodies that were dead but unburnt, he channeled another spell through it. The three twitched to life, crawling to their feet. Turning, they spread out, beginning to attack their brethren. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Ahriman Lordimar | Sun Feb 6, 2011 4:50 am Post #10 |
![]() ![]()
|
Ahriman watched the spectacle and smiled, tapped more and pointing towards a part of the graveyard's fence where the undead weren't flocking to. He jumped from her back, and crept into the shadows nearby, keeping an arrow knocked on his bow as his feet pressed down into the grass. He watched as the yeti broke his way through the fence, the yeti ripping a piece of the fence out to use as a pike, skewering a nearby undead and tossing it into a mass of it's allies. Ahriman gritted his teeth and held his breath, creeping to the nearby fence and slowly drawing himself over. He lifted his bow and creeped along. He moved through, looking for the center of the torrents of undead. He stopped moving completely, his body melding in with the shadows he crept in. A small band of the shambling dead passed by him, not even noticed the pirate in their tunnel-vision of the paladin's wrath. He smiled at himself, wondering if he could have been any luckier. An undead issue and he happens to run into a man who seems to have trained himself just for such a battle. He could see a titanic form looking out over the waves of undead, it's pitted black eyes glowing with a frost that seemed to devour the light around it. The skeletal beast seemed to freeze the ground it walked on, and when it waved it's hand, more of the dead raised from the rotting ground around it. Ahriman narrowed his eyes as he looked at it, and knew he had little chance to take the beast down alone. He raised his bow, and let let loose the arrow, not waiting to see if it landed in the beast as he appeared in the shadow of his yeti. He could hear a howl of rage as he climbed onto the beasts back, putting his bow onto his back and drawing his shining cutlass. He guided his yeti towards the scene of holy fury that the angel was meting amongst the dead. As they neared, he pounced from the back of Mora, bringing his blade through an undead as he landed and cleaving the beast straight in two. He rushed forward, grabbing an undead by its skull and bringing forth his heal spell, watching it burn through it's freezing surface with rage in his eyes before slashing through the beast's legs. The undead collapsed to the ground, trying to crawl on the ground towards the center of the graveyard. Bringing his boot down on the undead's head, he ignored the splatter of rotten blood that showered over them and yelled over the chaos, "I found the leader of this army. Big beasty and I'm thinkin' ye could help me tear it down." He pressed his back against his yeti, ensuring he couldn't be surrounded while he waited for the man's response, parrying and slashing blows aside as some of the undead finally realized another enemy had joined the fray. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Eliel | Sun Feb 6, 2011 11:37 pm Post #11 |
![]() ![]()
|
Luriel let himself fall into a rhythm, feeling the flow of battle. Not the brightest of beasts, undead rarely attempted anything too difficult to counter. The blade gleamed in the light of the moon, adding its own glow. Where it went, the undead were repelled, where it cut, dead flesh crumbled and burned away, and all the while Luriel’s hold was strengthened. He felt the enormous beast before he saw it, feeling the void in the flow of life and positive energy. In the light of this vast beast, within whom ran currents of negative energy, the zombies and skeletons all about seemed insignificant. “I feel him. Have a plan?” He twisted to his left and ducked, barely avoiding a hand gripping the broken-off head of an arrow. Looking to the beast, he nearly winced. It was enormous, and obviously worked upon. He watched as it raised another batch of undead, some of those already destroyed coming back together. One zombie, cut in half at the waist, shuddered to life and began crawling on its belly. Nearby, Luriel’s three fought on, unnoticed by the thoughtless dead around them. Recognized as one of their own, none bothered them. The titan turned its attention to the three. The angel shuddered as his command over the trio broke, another, larger force taking over. “The giant may not be our largest problem.” He called over to his pseudo-ally. “I think something created it. Or at least got it ready. There could be someone else at work.” Luriel reached out with his senses, building a mental map of the undead. They swarmed around the duo, but they kept coming, being raised by the titan from one side. But something, or someone, else was using the advantage the season brought. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Ahriman Lordimar | Mon Feb 7, 2011 8:16 am Post #12 |
![]() ![]()
|
Ahriman slashed, and cut, and danced through the throng of undead, feeling chills up his spine every-time a single one of them moved. He began to lose rhythm, making the battle less of his usual dance and more of a race to survive. The dead that kept rising brought the hair on his neck on edge, and the ones who were rising anew simply added to the uneasiness. Ahriman climbed onto the shoulder of his Yeti again, using her as a jump off point to bring himself to the nearest tree. Climbing the bark skillfully, He kept himself out of the reach of the dead so he could level his head. Did he really have a plan? A good one would be to leave the man to hold off the horde and disappear into the night, but that didn't sit right with him. Especially if the man were to survive, then he'd have another enemy seeking to slit his throat. He listened closer now, trying to find the source of whoever was stirring up the dead, and who had risen the abominable beast. He could hear the rattle of bone, the clang of steel, the roar of battle, and the wind. Patting the tree a few times, he listened closer, and he felt another chill on the wind. He climbed down the length of the tree, skipping from shadow to shadow, staying out of sight. His eyes thinned as he reached a nearby hill, the dead covering the surface of it, and slowly shambling their way towards the other beast. Drawing back an arrow, he climbed over another of the graveyard fences and waited for the undead to rise again, to see the source of the power, and find his unlucky target.... On the other side of the graveyard, the Yeti growled her disapproval as nicks and cuts began to rise and rise in count. She kicked through the crowd and set her eyes upon the frozen monstrosity that was leading them. The furred creature smashed the undead around her, and pushed through the crowd, raising a frozen fist to punch the frozen reanimator head on, sending it a few feet back and shattering the ice on her hand. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Eliel | Tue Feb 8, 2011 12:31 am Post #13 |
![]() ![]()
|
Luriel cast a halt undead, empowering it through his blade, casting a bit of soulfire into it. A wide swath of undead ceased moving, falling to the ground and giving Luriel a grand opportunity to look about. His ally had once again retreated to the trees, his yeti companion gathering quite the collection of injuries. Ahriman seemed intent on a target, perhaps having spotted their foe. But at the moment, their greatest concern was the lumbering hulk of a beast working its way towards them, shrugging off blows. Luriel found himself a bit concerned by the beast’s predicament. “Best get the yeti out of there!” He shouted. The undead were harmed by spells that brought the living further from death. What if they were touched with a spell meant to bring the dead to life? Luriel clenched his eyes shut, focusing on the spell. Raising the dead from this creature would be hard enough for one thing that size. But as it was made of separate beings… It would be a risk. The angel grasped the hilt of his sword in both hands, lifted it high, and sheathed it in the soil at his feet. Reaching into his robes, he pulled forth his orb. He let his senses fall into it, letting the separate plane envelop him. Opening his eyes, he looked at the beast again, the graveyard showing itself to him in a new light. He could see the components of the beast. At least six separate beings had become parts to this creature. No more real than a hallucination, a gray hand reached out, setting on Luriel’s shoulder. Grinning, Luriel poured power into the spell, lacing it with holy energy, soulfire to help purge the negative energy keeping it together. Releasing the energy pent up, he spoke in a whispery voice, the words searing his throat. Fires burned in his own body, and the world turned black at the edges for a moment, darkening his vision. Silvery jets erupted from the surface of the Vault, silver ectoplasm streaming behind each jet, evaporating in the night air. Each struck a different part of the abomination. A white flame sputtered to life at each blow, eating where flesh had been sewn together. Parts began to fall in a heap, drawing together into wholes. Luriel slipped the vault away as each body healed. Four human corpses and two elven lay separate, piled atop each other. Slowly, blood colored each of them, still pulling at Luriel’s energy. His well ran dry, the spell feeding off his life. The six blinked, coming to life at their own pace. One of the elves came to first, seeing the paladin on his knees. A disgusted look colored his face as he approached. Luriel glanced up, seeing the aura around the men. Five of them had souls black as the sky above, one of the humans looking lost, afraid, and harmless. Only the one had been untainted. The others lackeys, perhaps? Relieved, Luriel drew his sword from the earth in a last-ditch burst of strength, plunging it in the pale belly of the elven acolyte. Both jerked as warmth ran into luriel’s arm, tingling sensation coming back to him. Twisting and thrusting upwards, Luriel pierced his heart. Standing, the celestial stole the necromancer’s life, and turned to the other five. He moved through the groggy men vengefully, slitting their throats and cutting into their bellies. With each last breath, another rune glowed on his blade. All five of the angelic sigils flared when he reached the last human, the sacrifice. Still weary, the angel knelt and took up the man’s hand, kissing the back. Blood from his cracked lips stayed, hissing on the man’s flesh. “Welcome back.” touching the blade’s magic, he stood and turned from the lone man, retreating to the shade of a tree. The blade beat with its own rhythm, pulsing a steady heartbeat into his palm. Luriel made clear his purpose to how the five souls were to be used, and it was done. The runes faded and Luriel’s stored of power were refilled, brimming with new life. Sheathing the quiet blade, he knelt down below Ahriman. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Ahriman Lordimar | Tue Feb 8, 2011 1:07 am Post #14 |
![]() ![]()
|
Ahriman lost his own breath at the display of power the paladin displayed, tearing the undead monster apart with the very power that had made it. He looked to his yeti partner, who was slowly losing her bluster, her swings becoming more half-hazard and messy. A shrill whistle cut the air, and the yeti let out one last roar, swinging to blast some of the remaining dead away from the pair before stampeding her way from the graveyard, pounding her fist into any undead that tried to get into her path. With a sigh of relief, Ahriman dropped himself from the tree, scanning the graveyard as best he could. Closing his eyes, he focused his hearing until finally, he caught a sound of laughter on the wind. A smile crossed the pirates face as he tapped a hand against the tree, "The fool behind this isn't as quiet as he should be, surprising giving the predicament of his pet." Without waiting for a response, the pirate jetted off with all speed. His feet deftly pushed him forward, barely making a sound or halting in his run. What little undead tried to stop him were pushed past, blows dodged and ignored as he made his way for the one responsible for all this mess. His white eyes focused themselves on a tall figure amidst the undead, robes hanging over his living form. The necromancer was extremely powerful for being one of the living caste of them, but that was of no concern, at least not to Ahriman. He ducked himself low, pressing against the shadow of a nearby tombstone. He sat, waiting for the man to focus himself into raising another of the rotting servants that had been marauding the graveyard. His ear against the stone, the sound of passing air told him that what he was waiting for had begun. He pressed his hand into the ground, three shadowy clones sprinting off in three directions, making as much noise as they could. He could hear the necromancer jump in fear, looking around frantically. Ahriman closed his eyes, pressing his back against the tombstone as he began to chant under his breath, focusing his mind on the beast from before with an evil grin across his face. His spoke loud enough to cast the spell, hoping the necromancer was distracted by his clones, "Guarda oltre la realtà, e vedere nel regno della surrealtà." His arms shook a bit as the shadows around him rose, forming an exact copy of the undead beast his ally had downed some hundred yards away. The frost coming off of it seemed to really chill the air, and it's fists weaved through the air in a similar manner. Ahriman waited for the necromancer to notice, smirking all the more at the astonished look on the man's face. "What are you doing!? Go back to your work! Obey me!" The look on the man's face when his control did not work on the beast was priceless to the pirate, and he saw this opportunity as one he had to take. He twisted himself to his feet, running around the ring of graves as the beast brought it's fists up to strike at it's former master, the illusion playing the part perfectly. As he reached behind the pair, Ahriman unsheathed his blade, rushing for the necromancer. The look of horror on the man's twisted face was another moment of glee for the pirate as he realized what he was facing was an illusion, and that it was far too late to stop what was going to happen. The blade easily went through the man's robes, stabbing through his heart and twisting. He didn't speak a word to the man, tearing out his blade when he was sure the job was done. He took the time to check the man's pockets before wiping off his weapon on the discarded necromancer's robes, sheathing it nice and clean after the work it had been forced to do. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| Eliel | Tue Feb 8, 2011 1:38 am Post #15 |
![]() ![]()
|
Luriel leaned against the tree as the onrush of energy settled. He felt rested as he never had been before, at the brink of life. The work of holy magic had drained him nearly to his deathbed. And it served a handy purpose, the positive energy still live on the air warding off any undead who strayed too near. Turning to watch his companion’s act, the paladin had to smile, despite his efforts otherwise. It just went to show how unnecessary acts of brute power were, clumsily spilling energy into an act to defeat a foe. With a bit of illusion work and a quick hand, he had ended the threat as easily as he’d been handling the minor warriors, which now began to fall apart or wander around them, disinterested in their targets. Luriel drew out his Vault once more, giving a short command. He felt the ghost escaping, gathering its strength, trying to come together anew. A quick word sent glimmers of silver rushing from bushes and trees, silver sprites rushing towards the dead necromancer. Four of the foot-tall creatures bent over the corpse, digging their soul-flesh fingers into his chest. Pulling, they tore free the man’s dying spirit, trying to take refuge in its earthly shell. They dragged the spirit-necromancer back to Luriel, facing the man towards him. Two of the little creatures slashed at the backs of his knees. With a wordless howl, the ghost fell to his knees. Reaching out, Luriel touched a fingernail to its brow. A golden flash erupted, Luriel’s sigil burning itself into his brow. “Your name?” “Phileas Tristram.” The ghost hissed in reply, seeming unwilling to share the name, but forced to do so. “Phileas Tristram. For disturbing the eternal rest of the dead for your own devices, touching the world that should be left unstirred by mortal hands, you will serve me and my aims, while I may have need of you.” Without waiting for a protest, he tore the ghost from the material plane, binding him in the Vault of Souls. Eyes glowing from behind the metal mask, Luriel stood, still holding the vault in his left hand, as he approached the living of the six mortals. The other five lay cooling in the frosty air, steam rising from their opened throats and bellies. Offering a hand, Luriel helped the sandy-haired man, little more than a boy, really, to his feet. Laying a hand on his brow, Luriel soothed his emotions, taking away the fear. “Sleep, child. I will ensure you get somewhere safe and warm.” The boy smiled in peace and nodded off. Slinging the weary man’s arm over his shoulder, the paladin approached his ally. “Abel Metharis. I question your morals and motivations. You are no saint, to be sure.” Luriel’s tone softened. “But you did help me, and I will not forget it. Should you need my assistance. I reside in an abbey, in Norwood.” “Be sure to keep Mora off the grass.” The angel slipped away his orb and raised his hand to his face. With a tug, the mask came free, showing coppery eyes, delicate features, and skin laced with spidery scars. offering a smile, he bowed his head quickly. |
| Offline Profile | Quote To Top |
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| Go to Next Page | |
| « Previous Topic · The Ruins of an Ancient City · Next Topic » |
- Pages:
- 1
- 2






2:51 PM Jul 11

