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| Storms and Undead [p] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sat Mar 26, 2011 2:36 am (566 Views) | |
| Bastet | Sat Mar 26, 2011 2:36 am Post #1 |
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Dark heavy clouds blocked out the sun and made the area as dark as night. Thunder boomed and lightning cracked open the sky and cast eerie shadows on the runes below. None of that really bothered her. What bothered her was the rain. Big fat drops started to fall shortly after the sky darkened. Then the wind joined in and it fell in sheets. One moment there was nothing, the next she was soaked. Not a fun thing at all for anyone, especially not a cat. She was glad when she made her way into the old building where she stashed her things while she had been hunting. She shook herself and shivered. Humans didn't have so much hair and as she was already in her hybrid form, she let herself shift into her human one. It was still cold, but at least now she wasn't covered in soft fur that was plastered to her body like glue. She leaned to one side and squeezed out water from her hair and used her hands to wipe the excess water off her skin. Feeling better she stood and pulled on her clothing. A loose fitting top that had once been green and a pair of worn leather breachers. Both were very worn and threadbare. Some places there were even holes. Neither looked like they had been patched at all either. Once dressed she felt warmer. Sitting down on one of the old pews, she started running her fingers through her tail to help it dry faster. It felt heavy with the water on it. Just under her, inches away from her bare feet, was her travel cloak and other supplies. They were few and meager. She hoped the storm would end soon. She had no desire to stay here overnight. There had been stories that people had spoke of around the campfire of ghosts and vampires and other undead. This building was however probably the best place to stay. They had spoke of it being holy ground, saying the dead could not be made undead near the building. Well, there were rooms off to the sides and some stairs that went both up and down behind the big table-looking thing at the opposite end from the big door. And it was mostly dry. She could hear some dripping, but it didn't seem to be much. Perhaps she should explore? |
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| Asher Drake | Sat Mar 26, 2011 5:19 am Post #2 |
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Standing in the courtyard over an open grave. The thunder roaring overhead like judgement from the heavens. Placing his hands together in the fashion of a prayer. Lightning stuck the earth within the grave. Placing his hands towards the sky, "thank you" he could barely speak, he was very weak. Rain began to fall to the ground. He could hear a pelting sound as if the rain was hitting steel. Turning a bit he saw something on the ground, it shined brightly amidst the darkness and he was filled with a feeling of happiness. Approaching the object he could feel a spiritual presence weighing down on him. Reaching down he felt the object, there was no mistaking it, it was pure Imythessian adamantine. It appeared to be enchanted with a mighty holy grace. He could somehow lift the plate. Odd enough given the extreme weight of adamantine. He felt as if he was given a reason to live his life once more. Memories of his past life flooded his mind and he fell to his knees in tears. Pain shooting through his body. He saw an image of a young dragon born warrior. He was leading a raid party on a refugee camps chapel. He saw the man mercilessly slaughtering the holy men, the refugees, and his own raiders. Everything went black for a moment, his vision, his memory stopped. Placing the armor on his body, perfectly shaped it was no coincidence. He crawled to the door of the cathedral. Placing one hand against the large door, it seemed to creak open slowly. Another pain shot through his body. He saw a man. The same man. He was on his knees before another dragon born. His father, he spoke to the young man. "Son you are a filthy animal. I will no longer allow you a place in our lord's world. You disgrace our gods." He stood before his father and drew his blade. The man thrust it into his father's heart. Bathing himself in his blood. He turned from his fathers corpse and was struck down by a heavily armed knight, whose name was unknown. The pain stopped once again and he was able to crawl through the cathedral door. Making his way to an altar at the end of the long room. Attempting to speak out once more. "Save me." his voice heard only by himself. He crawled across the jagged stone, scratches cutting deep into his bare flesh. Reaching the far end of the room, he had yet another painful vision. This time he stood before the knight who struck the young dragon born down. The knight spoke to him, "you, will redeem yourself, Asher. I have brought you here to wash away your sins against humanity." The man distraught by his vision attempted to speak out. "Who are you...?" His voice actually spoke out. Was this a vision or a memory? He was no longer sure of his own mind. The knight placed one hand on the mans shoulder. "My time is nearing it's end Asher. And you will take my place as our lords vassal. A vassal of justice. You shall be reborn as I stand before you. In my imagine. Your tools shall be scattered around the world called Imythess, should you find them all, our lord will speak to you and accept you as his equal. Should you fail, should you turn away from our path Asher. You will be smite with the wrath of one-million vengeful gods." When the flashes stopped. He was before the altar, lying on the ground in a puddle of blood and tears. "A.. Vassal of my lord.. Me?" He could barely grasp his ability to speak. |
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| Bastet | Sat Mar 26, 2011 3:22 pm Post #3 |
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She had decided to explore and ducked down to retrieve her things from under the pew. As her hand gripped the cloak to draw it out, the big door at the back of the pews opened some. She paused, her ears turning to catch the sound. She heard the sound of metal scraping over stone. It caused a shiver to go up her spine. If she had been in her cat form, her fur would be on end. She gave herself a shake and peered over the top of the ancient pew. As she looked she saw… nothing? She could hear it still though… a ghost?! She ducked down and under the pew she saw something else. As he passed by her she felt her chest tighten. A man? He looked… he looked hurt. But he was moving forward? She scooped up her things and hugged them to her chest. It didn’t seem that he saw her. She scooted away from him and walked along parallel to him on the far side of the pews. She didn’t know what to do… Then she stopped. Something must have done this to him! She plopped her cloak and dagger down on the nearest pew and started to move towards the door, before turning about and snagging her dagger from its sheath. Ducking low, she ran back over to the open door. Blood streaked the floor from his wounds, but the rain seemed to be washing most of it away. She glanced outside and saw nothing but rain and earth. Just to be safe, she pushed the door closed once more. Bastet then turned and looked towards the armored man. A trail of blood. Too much blood. She followed the same path, careful to avoid stepping in his blood. He was now at the far end of the room. As she came closer, he spoke. Who was she? "I'm Bastet..." She paused. His face, though in full view, didn’t seem to be looking at her. She bit off the urge to continue talking just yet. Instead she set her dagger down and knelt near him. More words came. Words she didn't understand. He was weak. Would her magic help? She didn’t know, but she had to try. She placed her hands on him. The blood was warm and thick where she touched it. As she cast the spell, something odd seemed to happen. Was it… stronger? No, it couldn’t be… could it? She pulled away, startled. His blood was bright red on her hands. Should she try again? Did it help? She wasn’t sure but reached back out for him. So much blood. Even if she could close the wounds, would he heal? She had to try at least, right? ((OOC: if the cathedral is holy, it could have the same effect as the spell Holy. That would make her normal heal spell more powerful. However, Bastet has no way of knowing this, so I will leave it up to you how well it works.)) |
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| Asher Drake | Sat Mar 26, 2011 7:29 pm Post #4 |
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Laying on the floor before the altar, drifting in and out of consciousness. He heard someone speak out to him. A name? Bastet? His sight, his mind. Both went black for a moment and he could see himself. As if he was a looming spirit hanging over the room. He saw his trail of blood, by all means he should be dead. He could see a young girl trying to heal him. A voice spoke to him, "it seems someone has found it in themselves to help you out Asher. Perhaps you may be worthy of of being my vassal after all." It was his lord speaking to him from within his very soul. The strain of being the vassal had Asher at near death, and his lord wasn't quite sure if his soul was up for the challenge at hand. His senses came back to him, body and mind. He was alive. He opened his eyes slowly. "Bastet? That is your name isn't it? Did you.. Did you save my life with your magic?" Sitting up slowly. A crippling pain in his spine. He screamed out in pain. The cathedral walls shook like they had been hit with a massive wind. His head fell forward and his eyes went white. He could see, this wasn't like the other times. This time he could see a man, a demon. Heading for the cathedral. He was a man with red skin, and dark unholy armor. Massive horns grew out from his forehead. A large scythe was strapped to his back. The demon stood before the closed cathedral doors. Asher's head sprung back to it's normal position, the color returning to his eyes. "He's coming. The holy power of the cathedral will not stop him from finding me. He will stop at nothing, run Bastet, you don't need to be killed as well." Being unable to stand, he slid himself back behind the altar and placed his hands against one another. Praying to his lord, he was greeted with silence. His lord was leaving him to his own now. This was a test, and he had to prove himself worthy. The cathedral grew extremely dark. Extending his hand, he felt a blade. Grasping it into a clenched fist. He swallowed his fear and felt it against his adamantite breastplate. His breastplate was glowing brightly with a holy glamour and it slightly erased the darkness surrounding him. He knew now, there would be no hiding. His blade, his armor. Both placed at the cathedral, by his open grave. This was destined. He prayed it was not his destiny to die here, to this demon. |
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| Bastet | Sat Mar 26, 2011 7:56 pm Post #5 |
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He seemed to be waking up. He was not dead. She hadn't saved his life, had she? Her magic wasn't that strong... She started to answer him when he started to act strange, like before but he wasn't bleeding so much. Had her healing power failed? Was his mind gone? His next words caused the shiver up her spine once more. Something was after him. No doubt it thought him dead. But if his body was missing, then... She looked back towards the door. She needed to try and block it. Doors locked, right? She wiped her hands off on her pants and picked up her dagger. She stood and looked around the room. Her things were over to the left about halfway between where she was now and the door. If she made too much noise whomever was hunting him would hear her. Bastet started back for the door, dagger in hand. She tried to move quickly, but as she came closer to the door, she heard the sound of footsteps in mud. She heard the creak of armor. She then felt a eerie feeling. It was too late to block the door... She glanced back and saw the man had shifted behind the large table thing. The door creaked and she ducked down between the pews. She rolled over so she was under one of them and opened her mouth slightly to make her breath quieter. She listened and waited. No sound? She shifted slowly back, moving carefully between the pews to get to her things. She paused every other movement to listen. The only change was a glow from behind the large table. She was almost to her things when a loud noise erupted and she found herself hiding under the pew that held her cloak, dagger's sheath, and tiger cap. Was that the door? Bastet wrinkled her noise. What was that horrid smell? |
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| Asher Drake | Mon Mar 28, 2011 7:00 pm Post #6 |
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The beast pounded on the cathedral door. Its fists mimicking the sound of the thundering storm. His growls and screams could be heard within the building. The door was putting up a struggle, it's holy energy was not allowing a demon easy access. Suddenly the earth shook and the door erupted in flames. The beast forced it's way through. Growling as it walked across the stone floor. It's footprints embedded in the very foundation. It's violent hatred burning everything around it. Setting it's sights on the altar at the far end of the room, it charged. Crashing into the altar, chunks of stone and marble flew into the air. It stopped it's rampage for a moment, snarling it looked to it's left. A stairwell, it ran up the stairs. Asher had taken refuge on the second floor. Within a a cabinet he crouched blade in hand. His armor was shining brightly and he had to keep his eyes closed to not be blinded in such a condensed space. A sigh of disbelief fell from his shivering lips when he heard the fiend crush into the altar he was hiding behind, not but a moment ago. He could smell the beast in the hallway outside of his hiding place. His heart sunk as the cabinet began to shake. Letting out a scream his eyes went white and he was no longer in control of himself. His lord kicked open the cabinet and lunged at the demon. His hand on the fiend's throat ran to the balcony that overlooked the main room. Grabbing the beast tightly with both arms he began to resonate his weak but effective healing spell and threw the beast and Asher over the railing. Breaking his hold, Asher released the fiend and spun backwards. Drawing his blade, he thrust it into a wooden cross on the wall. The fiend crashed into the floor below. Coming in contact with the cross Asher began to burn of holy fire. Being thrown backwards his blade cutting into his left forearm. He fell the some twenty feet into one of the pews below, littered with sacred literature. Crawling into the isle he coughed up blood, his organs were damaged by the fall his left arm was broken. His right arm and face were scorched from the holy fire. Struggling to bring himself to his knees he heard snarling. The fiend stood over him now. It's large scythe in hand. "You'll die here, my prince." Asher struggled for his breath, "prince..?" he asked frantically. |
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| Bastet | Wed Mar 30, 2011 12:51 am Post #7 |
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She was frozen in fear as the room warmed up. The stones closest to the beast glowed red from the conflict of good and evil. Bastet however didn't know what caused it. She was lucky to be frozen in fear, flinching only when the creature charged the large table at the opposite end from the door it had shattered. Then it moved again, thankfully away from her and from what she could tell, upstairs. She shook herself free of the fear and got out from under the pew. A few were smoldering, but it didn't seem like they would catch on fire and burn the place down. It looked more like the place was too damp to probably burn. With the wind blowing rain into the place through the shattered doorway, it would probably only get damper. Yuck. She scooped up her cloak and other things and ran to the stairwell opposite that the others went up. This one seemed to lead to a large gate that was both chained and locked. As a cat, she could easily pass though it. In her human form, she had to squeeze through. Finding a stone bench around the corner she put her things there, except for her tiger cap, and ran back. There was another loud crash sound upstairs as she squeezed through the gate once more. Then, she heard what sounded like wood splitting and some sort of crack. As she came back to the stairwell and could once more see the large room, she was not happy about what she saw. The man she had healed was going and getting himself hurt again! She wasn't going to waste magic! If she healed him, he was supposed to stay alive. Annoyed at this, she put her ears back and tied the cap's straps about her neck loose enough so it wouldn't hurt any when she shifted. Then, she shifted. She chose her hybrid form, her larger cat form, and crouched low. The demonic creature came towards the man she had healed and started to speak. That was when she moved. She ran fast and low along the ground and as the creature went to move his weapon, she leaped at it. She felt her teeth grab the weapon between the demonic creature's hand and the long blade. Then she lashed out with her claws and back legs towards the main body of the creature. Her hope was to use the force to yank the weapon from his grasp. Her only benefit so far was that she had come from behind and the creature hadn't seen her. If she needed to, she could still use her larger tiger form with the help of the cap. Otherwise things could really start to hurt. |
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| Asher Drake | Mon Apr 4, 2011 2:03 am Post #8 |
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Watching in terror as the cat shifter Bastet lunged at the beast with animal like reflexes, pulling his scythe away from him. Asher slid back and stood up quickly. His was his opportunity. He sprinted for the cathedral doors and tripped on a piece of broken wood frm the demon's entrance. Tumbling forward into a puddle of mud he could smell a rotten stench, death. He could feel a numbing pain in his skull and is ears began to ring. He could hear the large demon running across the stone floors of the holy building working for the exit. Hoping that the cat was still alive Asher drew his blade and stood before his open grave. The demon made it's way out into the pouring rain. It held a large axe and stared at Asher. Suddenly the immediate area became completely black. "face your nightmares mortal." There was no moon, no rain, no sun, no stars, no lightning. It was absolutely black, unable to tell what time it was, or where he was. He began to scream out in agony at the demon's magic. Within the darkness his armor became brittle and the demon's axe crushed it into shards. A large gaping wound lie in the middle of his chest and he fell backwards. The demon approached with it's axe in hand. "Now I execute you my prince.." Asher felt confused once more. He was no prince and this demon was certainly insane. A familiar voice called out. "I apologize my subject, he is here for me.." Asher's eyes went white and he stood on two feet. His chest was unwounded and the darkness dissipated. Holding his blade to the neck of his executioner. "You can take me, if you can kill me." Balzoth stared deeply into the demon's eyes, an unrelenting scream came from it and it fell to it's knees. "Do you still think you can kill me?" |
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| Bastet | Mon Apr 11, 2011 11:00 pm Post #9 |
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Bastet landed and looked back to see the man fleeing. Good, he wasn't dead yet. She was frustrated by the fact that the demon was so determined to go after him though. She growled as the demon ran after him. She ran after them, burdened by the huge weapon. Annoyed, she tossed it between some pews to her right. and lept to the door. She jumped out into the rain and Skid to a halt. No! She was not fast enough! Darn it! Before she could decide on what else to do, and if she would be able to repair the damage... it wasn't as if she could have just let him die when she saw him, but part of her wished she had not seen him at all. This was getting to be way too much work. There was another voice... he was... was like when she had spoken to him... there, there was more then one him in that form. She stopped and saw this other with pure white eyes and a different voice speak to the demon. This other, he was the prince. A ruler of land and people. What land? She wondered if it was this land, but she had seen no people other then this one man. Well if she had many bodies and only one self, someone else could have many selves in one body. This other, he was the one the demon wished to kill, but it didn't look like the demon was powerful enough to. She circled around, moving a quarter of a circle away from the cathedral. She kept her focus on the demon. She wasn't going to let it get away with anything, but she also didn't want to get in the others way. She had not spoken to him and he may not know her. Bastet was now under an old tree. Ran still fell but it was not as hard. She was in her larger cat form and waited to leave it. The water was very annoying but she needed to pay attention to more important things. If she was in danger from this other, she would shift to her smaller form and flee. If he spoke to her she would shift to her human one to speak. She just hoped that when this other gave their form back to the first man, he would stay whole. She flicked her tail and crouched in the gravel and weeds. She would leap again at the demon if she had too. |
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2:51 PM Jul 11

