Fantasy Fading Flame (In Character)

[QizPizza]

Audun the Fallen

Location: Ridge
Status: Lightly Injured/Angry
Disposition: Generally Good
Interacting With:
Mentioned: Sybil Soviet Panda U UnbelievableCow Albion

As Audun ran through a shower of dirt, he found a Darkwolve pouncing right at him. There was no time for him to hit it with the cannon, so the Nephilim let the cast iron artillery piece and prepared to grapple with the beast. To his surprise, a whip of bone lashed out and smashed straight through the jaw of the Darkwolf, causing it to disintegrate. Covered in dirt, ashes, and the remains of Darkborne, Audun turned to the source of the whip. It was the Dullahan that healed him back at Frontierville. The mute one, if he recalled correctly. "Dullahan, take care of the two Darkwolves on the right!"

Audun didn't bother waiting for an answer that would never come. He simply drew Harmonious Discord and charged towards the two Darkborne reserved for him. With a slash, the blue sword cleaved through one of the Darkwolves with a cackle of lightning. The Dark essence left behind was vaporized by the lightning, sending blue arcs through the air. This bought him a moment to see the Dullahan making short work of her targets with ease. With a crack of her whip, a Darkwolf was cut into half, and with a follow up strike, flung the second beast across the clearing into the path of a fireball. The Nephilim turned his attention back his quarry just in time to catch it by the throat and crush its windpipe.

With the four Darkborne dispatched, Audun picked up the cannon with his left arm and continued to make his way towards the artillery batteries. "Dullahan, come with me!" The silent girl followed close behind the Nephilim, dodging fireballs and debris along the way. Hopefully the rest of the group, will be able to handle themselves and not get blown up. It would truly be a shame if they lost their lives in such a pitiful way.

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Ruins
Status: Curious
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Spireshade
Mentioned: Epiphany Vyseryx BioshockRP Trappy Midrick Unwavering Knight

With the brief respite, Taryn let her holograms dissipate and her cloak to drop. Her Light levels hardly dropped, thanks to the fill up from Aymeline. Speaking of the giantess, how did she fare? Aymeline was as strong as any giant and as intelligent as a human, so there should be little to worry, but they were combating Darkborne. Even the mightiest of mortals may fall to the onslaught of Darkborne. Taryn was no less susceptible, but she circumvented it by allowing others and her holograms to take the hits while she took cheap shots.

The Succubus walked through the rubble of the building Aymeline tore down, looking for the others. There was a small list forming in here head about those she wanted to talk to, all for different reasons. Aymeline, to ensure her well being; the man she encountered in the ruins before the Darkborne attacked; and Pryonn, simply because his demeanor was so...intriguing. Who to speak to first? That man with the cloak drew her in the most. She had to know what he was hiding beneath the cloak. Amidst the debris, she found the man and asked, "Are you holding up adequately, or do you require some assistance?...But I joke...I simply wish to know why you attempt to hide yourself."

 

[Vyseryx]

Margot

"After the creatures in heedless flight! They cannot stand before righteous might!” Pryonn yelled before he run off carelessly after the monsters. Sorceress covered her face with palm at his recklessness an turned to Aymeline, Pat and Cris.

“Giantess, warrior, Incruscan follow this fool if you please. Me and my companion here need to deal with the newly arrived and it would be a shame if this pure-hearted idiot died in the meantime.”

She then made her way towards Taryn, who engaged in the conversation with Raethe. She didn’t interfere, but her curious gaze was boring a hole in man’s face, as he was questioned by the demon.

(You can still poke me, Slop if not I’ll just join their conversation)

Epiphany Spireshade BioshockRP Midrick QizPizza Unwavering Knight

 

[Spireshade]

Raethe's blade clicked into place, the serrated segments each glistening with a varied amount of darkborne viscera. If he weren't with these adventerers right now, he might've put some into his mouth to taste if it were any different from the other types of monster he had encountered, but he wanted to save face, and not worry about being infected or getting the rapidly escaping mist into his mouth.

The knobbed, natural hilt of the blade went back into the gnarled sheath, making it once again just a walking stick. He barely glanced at the knight, Pryonn, was it? Who had already charged off in that strange rhyme of his to the next potential battle. If it weren't for his upbeat attitude... If it weren't for his upbeat attitude, a lot of things would be different about that 'man', if you can call him that. A piece of jerky appeared from within his robes, and disappeared into the hood, large uneven chunks having been bitten off. The teethmarks weren't human, but an amalgamation that had just sheared the meat entirely, leaving almost half of it torn up from a single pass.

He had been enjoying himself, somewhat, until he heard that same voice again. The one from the sultry character who had scared him initially. He was nearly ready to strike at her for being an abomination, but he controlled himself, his anger only shown as a light tap of his stick to the ground as he regained control of his involuntary clenching.

This time however, it wasn't a esoteric threat, but instead, a question. 'What was underneath the hood?' He slowly turned around, bringing his staff down in a definitive smack on the stone underneath their feet. "Look here, demonspawn." His voice lowered, and his words became harsh. "I know what you are. I know that you're some sort of darkborne freak without a soul to speak of. You're just here to leech off the light of these people, and maintain some sort of disguise with these adventurers. As a guardian, I know that you're nothing but pure evil, a new strain of spy sent to monitor these few, and as a guardian, it is my duty to protect them. You've got nothing in that sunken chest of yours besides from that corrupt darkness we've slain mere moments ago, you vile creature!" He stabbed a finger at her chest to punctuate his point, which to his surprise, didn't share the same emptiness as what he could only assume to be a hologram from earlier. A river of blood ran just mere inches away from his finger, their rhythmic beating proving to him that yes, she was in fact a real being, not some facsimile of one.

Raethe paused. This wasn't quite right. His fingers made a claw gesture, and sensed a beating heart, each beat of the fragile organ pulsing through his own fingers, as if the main arteries were running right through the gap between his mid and forefinger. She was very much real. He let go, and dropped his hand to the side.

"Well." He sighed. "I feel like a jerk." His fingers non-chanlantly combed through the little veins that ran up and down her leg, her very real, non-corrupted leg. "I am very, very, very sorry I said all those mean things to you." Now he felt like he had a sunken chest for berating this nearly complete stranger for no real reason, aside from his own paranoia.

A new set of bones wrapped in flesh had approached, to which he figured was another one of her companions. He felt sooo bad now. He attempted to salvage the situation. "I suppose I should answer your question then. It's to remain inconspicuous, and to..." He choked up a little, and cleared his throat. "shield others from my visage."

Interacting with QizPizza
Mentioned Vyseryx
Ruins! : Epiphany BioshockRP Trappy Midrick Unwavering Knight

 

[Slop]

Ezra, the Mad Scholar
Location: Ruins​

Ezra immediately regretted his reckless decision - not only was it of a nature foreign to him, he had unintentionally revealed his existence to the Guardians. On top of jeopardising his personal safety during the fight against the Darkbourne, taking into consideration the possibility of them being hostile had led Ezra to realising the magnitude of his blunder.

Greater Clairvoyance.

Ignoring how redundant it was for him to have done so at that point, Ezra stood in perfect stillness and silence, choosing to first scan and identify the comedically dysfunctional squad before him ere stepping forth to announce his presence. As his nonexistent eyes darted across the room, he tried to piece together what he was able to make out and waited for the fairy mounting the shoulders of a humanoid in knight's armour charging recklessly into beyond the ruins. Upon coming to the conclusion that the adventurers before him were the Guardians of Light he initially sought, Ezra felt a gentle wave of relief wash over him, putting him at ease.

"A most impressive display of magical expertise.. Margot of the Guardians of Light. Pleased to make your acquaintance, by the way."

Ezra emerged from darkness' embrace and cast stain upon himself by bathing in illumination. As he stood under the sun rays seeping through the cracks and gaps in the ceiling resembling a spotlight, he introduced himself to the occupants of the room in a manner signature of no other than yours truly.

"But before we advance this exchange any further, I'd like to take the time to correct you on one thing, spellcaster. I am no mage; not solely so, at least. I am as much an archmage as I am a wizard, sorcerer, scholar, arteficer and engineer. I take full-pride in my titles, and I'd rather you do not belittle my status. Should addressing me by my titles prove itself to be too troublesome an endeavour for you to execute, I permit you to refer to me as Ezra. That aside, I take it you are part of the Guardians' composition?

The distinguishable, raspy, breathy voice he donned would've lead many to speculate for him to have been an undead skeleton, but the complete absence of negative aura within his vicinity betrayed said suggestion. Ezra then turned away from Margot to face the remaining occupants of the room.

"Allow me to now disclose my reason for being here, Guardians of Light. I am attempting to permanently cease the Darkrbourne pandemic plaguing our lands, and doing so requires me to analyse, study and sample these confounded vermins first-hand. Your impeccable record of.. adventure-related endeavours has lead the Royal Council to think that having me tag along with you on your quest of a shared goal is a good idea. I am hoping and will contribute as I see fit to make sure that their words don't prove false. I sincerely ask for your mutual and requited cooperation."



Interaction(s): Vyseryx

Mention(s): Midrick Trappy BioshockRP Kabboom Epiphany Unwavering Knight

 

[Soviet Panda]

A spray of crimson was added to the fray as Darkwolf teeth and claws sunk into the white flesh of the Inuin. A howl of pain joined that of the darkwolves as Buras lurched forward as the darkwolf latched on. Catching himself with one hand, he just barely keeps from falling on his face. He gritted his teeth at the thought of how this could have been avoided if he had a partner to watch his back. But there was no time to lament about that, he had some parasites to rip off.

With his one free hand, he grabs a snarling Darkwolf by the top of it's mouth, it having released his shoulder for a split second and bit at the Inuin's hand, and dragged it snarling off of him. It's claws carved bloody rents on the snowy white skin of the northern half breed, but that did not stop him. Pinning the creature to the ground, a quick chop of his axe was enough to finish it off. That left one other Dark wolf to be dealt with.

Roaring in defiance, he once more stands tall and rips the other dark wolf off of him, it to leaving bloody marks on him, before tossing against a tree to one side. He once more went into motion, this time slower however. The combination of being more cautious and the large amount of blood he was losing from the wounds was a large factor in this. But onward he went anyways. Towards the darkborne artillery that sat so temptingly close.

 

[BioshockRP]

Atop the roof, as the veins filled with blood flowed from rapid heartbeats, Cris gulped the air. For the wind contained an alleviating sustenance which produced calming, soothing thoughts. Nothing more to it, because a soldier must always focus. Therefore, Cris' remaining correspondences to lifelessness demonstrated themselves in full. He groaned and bit his tongue, once the pain swarmed his foot and hand. Whatever idea that persisted soon became dulled by nagging regret, which pounded the mind, no, it clawed the mind like a scrapper, You're an idiot. Why did you not check your surroundings? Look at you. You almost died, you fool. Aren't you supposed to be one with the Sova (Owl)?! Then, blood gently poured from his mouth. He chewed on his tongue, serrated only slightly by Cris' carnivorous teeth. Pay attention. Your teammates need you, deluged his brain. Now, he watched the building's sides cautiously.

While the spiked tails slithered in the distance, Cris settled himself further into a slumped squat, with his arms covering his knees. The scene reminded him of his youth. Scratching his chin with his uninjured hand, he recalled the deer that once scattered in the snowy plains of his homeland. Interesting, he presumed, and he proceeded to go after the beasts, not wanting to return home empty handed. Unfortunately, other predators caught the deer before him, and he almost succumbed to the dreaded bear maul. An honorable death, but a foolish one as any Sova tribesman would exclaim. And so, he decided against pursuing the prior threat with the brave knight, especially due to his current condition. Previously, the scrappers used their claws to penetrate a deep gash into his hand, and Cris also experienced broken glass into his foot. He hoped a healer survived the ordeal.

Stumbling down the stoned walls, his rear became tenderized, and a painful moan erupted, "Ooh." He lacked the necessary concentration to utilize his owl transformation, so he stuck to the traditional method of leaving the roof. Upon final descent, his body landed onto the firm, gross grass. Rolling along the sod, his attire quickly accumulated an abundance of dirt and grass clippings. He lifted himself up in front of Margot on his hands, which incurred additional pain, "Ergh- Cannot follow. Weakness in body. Need healing." Clenching his hand to numb the constant throbbing, he trudged towards others in the group.

Vyseryx

His hair clearly ruffled and dirtied, despite the dark color. Definitely, his skin caught pebbles, dirt, and quite the variety. Almost as if his body attempted to camouflage itself with the environment's misgivings. He tottered into Terra, who carried a crystal, "I-I have a healing crystal. Let me help you," followed with a warm smile. From the cat tail, Cris easily realized Terra contained similarities in race; therefore, his body relaxed to the offer. He begged, "Help. Heal hand and foot." With his wounded hand, and bloodied foot stretched out, he watched as the cat-feature'd incruscan massaged his agony away. At first, the treatment administrated itself into a painful prod on the skin, but after a bit, Cris obtained relief.

Finally stabilized, Terra parted Cris's ears with useful information, "The pain will return if you use your limbs quickly, so rest a bit, will you?" She left his vicinity, so Cris headed with the group, keeping himself to the back in order to allow his treatment to flourish peacefully. At the group's tail, he spoke, causing the remaining soot to exit his mouth alongside unwarranted saliva, "I rest behind group. Only a bit. Continue forward."

Midrick Vyseryx Trappy BioshockRP Kabboom Epiphany Unwavering Knight

 

[-robert-]

Leafa

Rock-Paper-Scissors. The final battle. Leafa sent out scissors... and poor Kyden, yet again, lost. Who even utilizes that strategy anyway? Nonetheless, the pawn had been chosen, and luckily for the young elf, it wasn't her. Kyden ran like his life depended on it, because, well, it did. As soon as the cavities emerged from the ground, Leafa took out her bow and put her game face on. Pip had hidden on one of her worn-out, leather-made boots, and Ko had simply lowered it's wings, still remaining on the flower.

"There! Fire!"

The moment she heard the command from one of the guardsmen, she shot. Guided by the wind, the arrow hit it's target flawlessly, and one of the cavities immediately went numb. One down, three to go.

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Pryonn & Kaatl

The assembled group behind him was quickly forgotten as the knight charged after the fleeing monsters, the echo steel-shod feet clanking through the ruins, before him the octet of scrappers skittering and slithering through the ruins. Unbound by the usual laws of geometry, the creatures made pursuit difficult by spreading out and climbing all across the dilapidation, though their direction remained the binding factor: A looming building, slightly less decrepit compared to the surrounding house-husks, but far more capable of granting that succouring darkness that the darkborne craved.

The fairy-and-knight duo arrived near the ruin just in time to see several of the scrappers scaling the decayed stone-walls to slither through holes and crevices, rapid dashes propelling them at blinding speeds. Only three remained in the errant's sight, skittering towards the main entrance, hissing and scraping all the way in loathing for the light. Wasting no time, Pryonn projected his plated hand towards the fleeing foes, firing off a swarm of metal-pieces.

In an instant the monsters' hisses turned to screeches, their insectoid hides pelted with a multitude of iron-scraps, rusted nails and smithy-waste. As bits and slices of darkborne-matter were scraped and ground from the creep-bodies, the monsters fastened their flighting-pace, two managing to dash into the ruin as they left behind a kin-thing that found itself nailed to the wall, wailing in pathetic anger. All it did was allow a metal-surge to flood into the creature's screeching maw, rupturing through its mock-internals, ending its parody-existence in a tide of iron.

Paying no further heed to the silenced thing, the knight turned towards the ruined entrance, its dark interior almost hidden from sight, giving only the guess of a winding maze of corridors. "Ahh, such a familiar sight. And a natural location for a trap, just waiting to be sprung and surprise any would-be do-gooder!" the knight emitted, nothing but excitement in his voice even as he momentarily halted to tilt his helmeted head towards the fairy on his shoulder. Kaatl simply looked on, worry mixing with resignation "Let's walk right into it with voice loud and head high!" Pryonn called with laughing joy, putting himself into full run as he charged into the looming dark.

The tight corridor allowed little in terms of vision, so dark the ruin managed to be even in the bright day. On the ceiling, just high enough for a tall man to walk unimpeded, one of the scrappers lay in waiting, its claws struck into the walls, keeping it hidden and flat to the roof, its tail poised to strike the moment the knight would walk in. A metal-clink heralded the errant's first foot-step into the building, the ceiling-ambusher tensing, its bestial cunning making it wait for the knight to draw closer. More footsteps, the sounds of steel-shod feet reverberating through the passage, the darkborne sensing the delicate light-source, flaring up its own ravening. Emitting a hissing screech, the monster's spiked tail struck from above at blinding speed in a single perfect motion to kill. For an instant, the corridor echoed with the sound of tearing metal, sliced flesh and breaking bone, eliciting a cry of triumph from the monster as it felt its tail deeply penetrated, the knight standing still.

Then the darkborne's cry turned to a curious hiss. It hadn't aimed for armor or knight, it had aimed for the fairy on the errant's shoulder, the little thing that had emitted a bright source of nourishment. The scrapper's gleaming eyes turned down to behold the strangeness. Its tail had indeed penetrated, armor, flesh and bone, but not quite as it had figured. Beneath it stood the knight, one hand having let go of his flail to instead raise his palm to shield the fairy. Kaatl stared blanky at the plated gauntlet raised before her, bloody tail-tip sticking out of the penetrated hand. The fairy grimaced as the tail-end wiggled in confusion, the creature wailing.

"Beast, you are not the first to try this." Pryonn called upwards, excitement mixing with amusement "And you will not be the last to fail." The stuck hand balled into a bloody fist, the knight taking hold of the monster's tail with an iron-grip as he began to pull. The scrapper screeched and hissed, clawing at the ceiling in a futile attempt to climb out of the knight's reach as he proceeded to tear it from the walls, throwing it onto the ground before him in a shower of decrepit stone-splinters. Hissing in anger, the monster tried to wiggle itself upright again, even as the knight's flag-spear struck down, barbed tip piercing the darkborne's torso. Emitting more hisses, it continued to try and free itself, only for the knight to tear the spike out of the creature's body and strike again, and again, stabbing the monster until its struggles turned to stillness.

As the knight busied himself with pulling the tail-spike out of his palm, the third scrapper, having used the ambush of its kin-thing as cover to sneak closer, emerged from the dark, already too close for the spear to be brought to bear, flail still on the floor, its full-toothed visage aiming for the knight's head, about to have its fangs crush the armored cranium. What greeted it instead was the knight's plated, bloodied fist, punching it square in the jaw with stone-crushing force as the knight used his control over metal to propel his steel-coated hand at brazen speed. With the tearing of pseudo-teeth and muffled screech, the monster was thrown into the wall, its malnourished, insectoid carapace tearing and breaking with the impact.

"A knight forever sings, darkling-things!" Continuing his walk down the hall, the knight's voice rang bright "Let us sing together, on and forever! Let us herald, let us hail, show me how deep you bite, that we might sing till endtime's night!" And the knight sang, unabashed that his voice was only greeted by the skitters and scrapes of his foes laying in wait deep in the dark.

Addressed: 8 SCRAPPERS ON THE RUN Kabboom
Mentioned:

In Ruins Group: Midrick Vyseryx Trappy BioshockRP Kabboom Epiphany QizPizza Spireshade Slop

 

[Midrick]

Pat was recovering still from the effects of the odd magical display, it was shock more than anything he checked the wound on his side, it was shallow, just as flesh wound. He thought to himself he grabbed a foul looking rag off one of the tables before running it over the blade, getting the evaporating liquid off it before he surveyed the scene. They had killed a good amount of the scrappers, but eight had escaped. He was just about to start after them when the knight charged off after them, making a large amount of noise as he went. He sighed, looks like it was time to be bait with Pryonn, he might have been big and strong, he would go down if he got swarmed.

Although Pryonn had a head start Pat had closed the distance reasonably, he had already made his presence felt, Pat caught brief glimpses of the knights handiwork as he sprinted to catch up, he slowed his pace down to a jog, he could see from a distance the knight skewering a scrapper and tossing it aside, Pat finally made it to Pryonn after he finished his sing-song challenge. "Quite down." he hissed in a whisper "I don't really feel like being swarmed and pulled apart by these things, so do us both a favor and keep the yelling to a down low." He knew it was a trap, had to be, And most likely something extremely unsavory lurked in the darkness.

He flexed his neck, two resounding pops echoed through the small corridor, he stepped beside Pryonn, axe at the ready and fell into step beside him.

Kabboom Unwavering Knight

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Ruins
Status: Terrified > Relieved
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Spireshade
Mentioned: Epiphany Vyseryx BioshockRP Trappy Midrick Unwavering Knight

"Look here, demonspawn. I know what you are. I know that you're some sort of darkborne freak without a soul to speak of. You're just here to leech off the light of these people, and maintain some sort of disguise with these adventurers."

Taryn maintained a straight face as the mage began his harsh speech against her. However, on the inside, she was terrified. The man seemed to want to expose her to everyone and spread the idea that the Succubus was there for the sole reason for stealing the Light of the Guardians. That wasn't entirely true. Taryn needed Light, of course, but by now, she has no reason to do so, not with the giantess. This man was poking at her fears of being exposed, and Taryn had half a mind to kill him before he continued. However, she held back. If she acted out, the group would only have more reason to kill her.

"As a guardian, I know that you're nothing but pure evil, a new strain of spy sent to monitor these few, and as a guardian, it is my duty to protect them. You've got nothing in that sunken chest of yours besides from that corrupt darkness we've slain mere moments ago, you vile creature!"

By this point, her terror began to mix with confusion. The man had called her Darkborne earlier, but she had only thought of it as him being emotional. However, it appeared that this mage really believed that the Succubus was really a new breed of Darkborne that was able to take on human form and pretend to be an ally of Guardians filled with the Light that is so repulsive to the Darkness. She felt the man's finger stab at her chest and began to look quite embarrassed. She vaguely felt her insides tickle, as if he was feeling her heart and veins. Was this man a breed of flesh mage? A Succubus's flesh could be molded easier than human flesh, but these flesh mages intentionally twisted their bodies in ways they weren't meant to for power. Horrifying in the sense of the mangled and grotesque forms some mages had unintentionally cursed themselves with.

"Well...I feel like a jerk...I am very, very, very sorry I said all those mean things to you. I suppose I should answer your question then. It's to remain inconspicuous, and to...shield others from my visage."

The pride in her wanted to slap the man for his mistake and his insult to her. However, she needed to maintain her persona, lest Jericho be convinced that she needed to be struck down like the demon she was. Besides, she would lose a potentially powerful ally. She choked back her annoyance as she accepted the man's apology, "It's...I...I accept your apology. Your accusation terrified me. I believed that there was some sort of Darkborne parasite within me that I was not aware of. You should be more considerate when speaking to women, or your words will drive them away from you before your appearance does."

The Succubus watched as the exposed bone of his arm began to grow its flesh back. Taryn could only bear to watch for a few moments before shifting her attention back to mage's concealed face. "A flesh mage, I presume... Do you have name?" She hesitantly offered her hand to the mage. "I apologize if my hologram confused you. I mainly use illusion magic...my name is Taryn, if you wish to know."

 

[Epiphany]

Aymeline

With the scrappers dealt with, the Giant pats her leg where the one scrapper had sank its teeth in. She winces a little. The mail held but the sheer force of those jaws bruised the skin, she suspected. These Darkborne had killed Giants before and it paid to remember that, no matter what powers or weapons she wielded.

As the group pulled together, with new members joining up, her lofty elevation lets her see Pryonn charging after the retreating monsters. Aymeline glances behind her, spots Cris and immediately looks worried given how ragged he looked. When he begs off pursuit, the look of worry grows to one of conflicted concern. Finally, she interrupts the argument going on to say "My friends, one of our number is in pursuit of the enemy. He may perish without us. Those of us fit to continue, follow me!"

And with that, the Giant sprints towards the clear and present danger, heading for the ruined entrance Pryonn vanished inside of, following the sense of direction her Soul Tie gives her to find her ally.

 

[Spireshade]

If his eyebrows were formed, or even visible, Taryn would notice that they would be furrowed in genuine confusion. "You assume I wear this simply because I don't want to appear unattractive? Have you any, any idea what it's like to be persecuted on sight? I'd imagine you might with your..." He gestured to her leathery appendages. "Those. Wings?" The ligaments and appearance would suggest it, but he doubt those ever would be used for true flight. "You probably would." He nodded to himself. "You probably would." Eager to change subject he followed suit and shook her hand slowly, deliberately.

"Raethe Malethkith. Explorer, chronicler, guardian, and I'm glad I'm shaking your real hand, Taryn." He gave her forearm the impression as if fingers were brushing their way up to her elbow. She was so... fluid. Easy to manipulate even, at least physically. His attention snapped to her face near immediately. "Say, you're not looking for work, are you? Your flesh is very supple and malleable, it's not something I've seen ever before." His hand motioned over her forearm, but he stopped himself, his hand waiting in the air. "Excuse me." He retracted his hands from her, yanking his staff from the ground he planted it in.

His arm segmented itself, the action otherwise leaving it broken for an average person, but he was no average person. From his sleeve, a small vial came from it. "Take this as an apology." He handed her a slightly liquid covered tincture whose faded label barely read "Healing-" before it cut off. "Had that in there for ages from an old friend."

QizPizza

 

[Kabboom]

The Ruins

Three Scrappers having bit the dust, the ruin returns to silence once more. The cacophony of the Dark-beasts' shrill cries, along with the clattering of steel weapons against chitinous claws, have been substituted with an eerie, iconic silence, disrupted only by the conversing of the knight Pryonn and warrior Pat.

But not for long.

Within the walls, a sort of 'bubbling' effect could be faintly seen, as if the ancient cobblestone was suddenly turned into a piping hot liquid. The crackling and sizzling of the flesh rids the air of silence, as 10 ghastly figures 'enter' the corridor in front of the adventurous duo. Dropping onto the floor after passing through the walls, the raw Dark essence quickly builds up a skeletal frame, followed by fully structured 'flesh', completing their visage. The Wallmaidens have come out to play.

​

Assuming the pale visage of a human woman in classy dark attire, such Wallmaidens tend to the collapsed remains of Imperial buildings overtaken by the Dark forces. Traveling in packs, they utilize their ability to phase through walls to great effect, patrolling claustrophobic corridors easily and quickly. Their appearance intended to induce shock within any newbie adventurer venturing within the ruins, the tradeoff for such an ability is their feeble melee attacks, manifested in the forms of sharp fangs and elongated nails.

10 such monsters stood in front of the duo, and the bubbling of the walls still do not stop. The entire corridor was virtually boiling with entering Wallmaidens, surrounding the adventurers from every vector. The screeching of the 5 remaining Scrappers join in with the hum of the Wallmaidens, and their clattering claws scraping on cobblestone as they made their way back haunted the hallways.

It would be wise to retreat.

Midrick Unwavering Knight
The Ridge

Charging forward with wild abandon, the warriors finally catch glimpses of the threat, the vile beasts that had been pelting fireball after fireball in their direction. And vile they were.

​

Visible through the lush canopies and the thick oaken trees populating the section of the forest, the Rottapults stand on four bulky limbs, with two extra arms used as claws. Their bulky spinal cords were standing at full attention atop their carapace-clad backs, harnessing the solar rays to fuel their ravishing fireballs launched from their gaping maws. One such beast, standing tightly alongside 4 others upon the ridgeline, had just finished lobbing a fireball, closely shaving the Inuin. Its mouth wide open and internal launcher appendage extended, the reloading Rottapult serves for a good target.

The artillery threat finally located, the adventurers have accomplished half the mission. Now, to kill them. But that will not come easy, as a pack of 20 Runners reinforce the dwindling Darkwolf numbers, springing from behind the artillery Darkborne. Contrary to their behavior previously displayed at Frontierville, these Runners seemed to display some form of cooperative teamwork among each other, dividing into packs and utilizing the trees as cover, breaking line of sight frequently as they zig-zag towards everyone. With a few coordinated howls, the skinny shades peel off into different groups targeting different prey: 6 headed towards the clumsy squire Cleon; 10 darting towards the Angel and the dullahan; and 4 chasing down Buras Ur'ull.

Sybil Soviet Panda QizPizza Albion U UnbelievableCow

 

[Sybil]

Spessartite Phos​

Spess had been sifting through the ground relatively quickly before she collided head-on with the burrowing creature, the first thing she saw were the jaws before they bit into her head with a crunch. The jaws and teeth were strong, evident by the rock's head now cracking with taking a chunk off revealing their crystal inside on the forehead from the missing front. Despite this spot sporting now a missing eye, partial forehead, and parts of her earthen hair, the elemental gritted her teeth, latching onto the creature in a grapple even though their size posed a difference. With herself latched on she would now attempt to immobilize the creature with her weight, making it too hard to burrow further for it, and proceed to grab it's lower jaw and pull down to keep it from biting with her hand.

"Come on na ya sunuva bitch!"

She growled at the creature and, in the same manner, the creature would hiss at her angrily with no intent other than to finish one another. The difference was the environment, and Spessartite had all she needed. Her grip might slip to the encroaching jaws and break into her hand with another crunch, but the dirt around the slithering beast and its arms would begin to get heavier and pressing all around them. Rocks and dirt alike now were squeezing them both, the difference being that she was unaffected as her body became more of the body-encasing tomb that was now closing in on the creature that attacked her.

All while this was happening she could feel the deep vibrations in the ground, proceeded with many smaller footsteps. Whatever was flinging the projectiles was now on the move, she thought to herself as she considered the fight to be progressing without her.

Interactions: Kabboom

 

[BioshockRP]

• Outside House Ruins
• Dream
• Outside House Ruins Part Two

• 
  
  At the back of the group, Cris' battered body slowly recovered into normality. While some charged forward, he remained with the others who stayed away from the forefront. Nevertheless, Cris wanted to aid his allies; however, his pragmatic mindset prevented him from placing himself in further danger. After all, he needed to say alive for his village, and his past actions contained stupidity, when he fought the two scrappers rooftop. Then, his eyes glazed in caramel and dust, vision not limited due to ability, he witnessed the carnage on the building. Gravel and wood; blood and bones; and the dastardly devils grimed in gregarious upside down chandeliers-- the scrapper's legs together, magnetized like a spider.
  
  Swiftly, his feet dodged leftwards away from the crumbling rubble that fell by the second floor's damaged angles. The blood, gore, dripped into a splatter as scrapper's guts entrenched Cris' dirtied skin. He muttered, "Yuck," alongside a few of his tribal curses. Although, a hunter, his current appearance certainly portrayed a savage who'd been living in the mud. Still, maybe the mess provided a cover or camouflage for further confrontations. Either way, he would have to test the theory at some point, since his comrades demanded another battle.
  
  Out of the corner of his corneas, his eyes caught the wind that swept his tears. An arousal to sadness, no the persistent dust that poked and prodded at the eyes in blistering heat that never shot itself into the corner of darkness. When shall a shady return end Cris' intensity, as sweat dripped into a later poured deluge. Healed in body, the mind wavered, as it questioned his well-being. May the Owl God take notice, he prayed, and deliver unto me the will, he then finished solemnly in silence. That was until, his lips cocked a formation twenty degrees, followed into pout, as words seeped the glorious remark by grace, "For Sova."
  
  
• 
  
  From the gates, or the depths, the sky alluded to the dropping of feathers in a crown around Cris' head. Vanity, no less, the sanity trembled, for it shivered Cris' being. His hands stretched out as if to pull the feathers, yet to others they only saw him grabbing randomly at the air. What manner of crystal dared to lapse its own ingredients into Cris' body. Soiled hands by the ire, gripped deep into the grass, pulling the roots endlessly on the ripped leather attire that covered Cris' figure. To others, he seemed a nuisance, or maybe madness spoiled into uncertainty. The drug that healed also heightened the senses.
  
  Snow, too much snow, always his eyes witnessed the icy bulk that clouded the prey from the predators. He laid there, drifting in solitude, as his mind sharpened into steel. Soon, the arrow by callous hands bruised and bloodied due to the three day hunting spree. Afar, the tree glistened with an Owl perched, watching his agony. The rabbits killed and skinned by arrow's piercing offered little in the way of nourishment, leaving Cris at no choice but to crawl in a spiral; the clenched hands drenched in melted ice and red, raw juice. For strength became accustomed to those who worked on the tribe's deeds, but the years that plagued Cris, when he lived in the city had softened him.
  
  Every inch of his being despised his isolation, but still he carried on in his mission. The tribe mattered more to him than his very life. Who cared, if he submitted to death, as long as he brawled in the name of his tribe. Yet, the hunger, the howls, the never-ending shuffle and bustle of the cities. An endless echo in intermittent strides that galloped across his ears. They ruined his focus. Now crouched, his eyes wept in the snow, as his breath stiffened in the cold. All that glamour, all that serenity, and all that duty; at what cost in his intelligence: he demanded in his mind.
  
  
• 
  
  Light touched him once again, the sun's invisible rays penetrated deep into his pores. He awoke with a fright, as his sight illustrated the others. As eyes shifted, he wondered how he'd been, how much he suffered in the light, and whatever they may have heard that beckoned from his unfiltered mouthpiece. Whatever they know, he slouched, as his hands picked him up from the mossy stone that acted as a temporary bed in his drug-induced state. He lifted his hand up and glanced at his foot, taking awe in the recovery. Next to him, felled blades betwixt his body, the knife that cut; and the one that skinned. He picked up the one used to serrate the layer between animal flesh and fur, before the other. For any reason, he felt hunger before combat. His stomach growled in frustration.
  
  A split party, with the occurring questions, shot like a bolt into the blatant wondering, "What now? Begin where? Seek what?" Cris asked them, to every member that placed their position near him. With all the prior turmoil, and now, all hazed up in some odd judgement, what answers could Cris provide, if not a question to ponder the next move.
  
  Beyond the group, his ears heard the faint screams in the distance, where the brave, or stupid challenged the retreating enemy. Without Amyeline, Cris understood his role in the nonsense. What they required, or what they lacked seemed evident in the group's split. Maybe, he thought, he could no longer act the scout. If they stuck together, and formulated a plan, Cris believed the group may have had the ability to press forward. Even with the fore knowledge on the scrappers alongside the victory, they never bothered to scout ahead to prepare for lingering enemy forces. In other words, today, although victorious, presented itself inc incompetence. And so, Cris silently vowed for such a mistake to remain only once in his memory.
  
  For now, he kept his foots silent and forward should the members in the front lines require support. Enough moping around, as of now, his knives and blowgun became his bread to shove down the throats of his enemies. May steady feet and the wind supply his movements in blitzkrieg fervor, as he trudged forward with the other members. From now on, he removed himself from the status of predator, as he assumed himself to be a protector. He fretted a moment, and then no longer hesitated, "Help them," he finished in exclamation to the group.
  
  

Midrick Vyseryx Trappy BioshockRP Kabboom Epiphany Unwavering Knight

 

[QizPizza]

Taryn the Exile

Location: Ruins
Status: Slightly Bothered
Disposition: Slightly Evil
Interacting With: Spireshade
Mentioned:

"You assume I wear this simply because I don't want to appear unattractive? Have you any, any idea what it's like to be persecuted on sight? I'd imagine you might with your...Those. Wings?...You probably would...You probably would."

Taryn gritted her teeth and maintained her smile as the mage ran his mouth. He spoke too much and his words were making her uncomfortable. He was reminding her why she constantly tried to hide her identity. As the mage so crudely put it. Her wings were a blatant warning sign to anyone who met her. Taryn shifted on her feet uncomfortably as she folded her wings and drew them closer to her body. There was no use in creating an illusion anymore. It was a waste of light and everyone including this flesh mage now knew the truth.

"Raethe Malethkith. Explorer, chronicler, guardian, and I'm glad I'm shaking your real hand, Taryn. Say, you're not looking for work, are you? Your flesh is very supple and malleable, it's not something I've seen ever before...Excuse me."

As the mage felt her arm with his magic, the Succubus shuddered internally. This was one of the thought of Raethe after sorry? To ask her for usage of her flesh? It was despicable in its own way, but she played along. Shoving any feelings she had into the depths of her mind, she gave Raethe her characteristically suggestive smirk. "If you wanted to feel me so badly, you only have to ask, Raethe Malethkith. I'm always looking for work, and I think it will work out nicely if you wish to feel more of me."

"Take this as an apology. Had that in there for ages from an old friend."

The Succubus took the vial of liquid from mage and held onto it. Most likely a healing potion given its scratched label. She didn't have much use for it, but Audun's reckless tendencies left her a bit worried as much as she denied it. Her hand drifted towards Raethe's chin and brushed the shifting flesh lightly. The Succubus's words flowed as smooth and sweet as honey, "I'll consider it an advance payment. When you want to...work with me, we can discuss any further payment. But as for now, try not to be too distracted by any arrangements you may want to make. We have some Darkborne to slay first."

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Pryonn & Kaatl

"Quietude?" inquired the knight upon Pat's remark, amused chuckle accompanying the rhetorical question. From all around them, the corridors, the walls, even the ceilings, the scrapings and skittering intoned, the stone of the ruins themselves pulsating, teeming with the emergence of dozens upon dozens of darkborne monsters bearing mocking visages of false humanities. Whatever warning Patricus had uttered had come far too late to keep the duo from being labeled 'intruder' by the rotten building's perception.

And the knight would not have had it any other way. Giving the encroaching horde of monsters a friendly wave of acknowledgement with his flag, Pryonn turned to Faber "Good sir!" he intoned, naught but giddy excitement in his voice "Don't you know? Tis a knight’s great work," Pointing his lance down the dark hallways, towards the assembling slew of maidens and scrappers, Pryonn's voice rang with echoing exultation "to live the theme! To dream a gloriousely impossible dream! Petal-fall!"

Kaatl, a hint of sadness on her features, followed the request. A dainty hand gave a wavy gesture, prompting a glow to appear above the knight, emitting the discarded blossoms of a cherry-tree. In an absurd display of romanticism, the knight merrily charged towards the monsters in a shower of falling petals, flag held high and his voice laughing with carefree bliss "Despair not, darkling-vermin! I have death enough for all of you!"

Addressed: Midrick Kabboom
Mentioned:

In Ruins Group: Midrick Vyseryx Trappy BioshockRP Kabboom Epiphany QizPizza Spireshade Slop

 

[QizPizza]

Audun the Fallen

Location: Ridge
Status: Lightly Injured/Angry
Disposition: Generally Good
Interacting With: Kabboom
Mentioned: Sybil Soviet Panda U UnbelievableCow Albion

Eventually, Audun and the Dullahan were approaching the place where the Darkborne artillery were emplaced. A total of five Rottapults were stationed in a clump firing their fireballs at the group of approaching Guardians. One of the Rottapults was just done firing their barrage into the forest canopy. This was perfect opportunity to attack the artillery. The four shots of the cannon Audun held should be enough to kill two of the Darkborne. They would figure out how to destroy the other three. Between an Inuin, rock golem, Dullahan, and a Nephilim, the task would solve itself.

Before Audun and Eevie would be able to attack the Rottapults, they would have to deal with the ten Runners coming at the pair. The Nephilim thought it strange that the Runners were being more coordinated than before. It was as if they were operating as a pack of wolves rather than a mindless horde. That was mildly disturbing. The Mundanes were already barely able to fight back Darkborne, but Darkborne who could think? The humans, elves, giants, and Incruscans might find themselves succumbing to the Darkness soon. But there was quite literally no time to think about the cause or even further implications.

Two Runners leapt at Audun at once, one on the left and one on the right. He only had enough time to slam the cannon down on the Runner on his left before the other clamped its jaw down on Audun's arm. The metal gauntlet on his arm began to dent under the Darkborne's vise like bite. Stabbing his sword into the ground, Audun evolved his right hand to a slight degree so that his finger nails were replaced with talons. He dug the Dark infused digits into the neck of the Runner, killing it. The Nephilim planned on Devolving his hand once before the damage he inflicted added up, but yet another Runner jumped out from the foliage. Not taking time to think, Audun slashed at it with his claws, cutting through the monster with ease. That was enough. The fallen angel forced the Darkness to recede, sending a wave of pain through his hand. It was like a mild sprain, nothing that would hinder his ability to fight in the long term, but was sufficient to be nuisance.

The Dullahan was handling the two targeting her with ease. Her bony whip tore apart one while it was still midair while the other Darkborne was taken out by the whip's transformation. The once segmented whip had turned into a lance of sorts to impale the second Darkborne. Audun kept his distance from his ally's reachas he pulled his sword out of the ground and swung it at the fourth Darkborne to approach him. The Darkborne's essence dissolved when it met the lightning coming form the sword. Their tactics were something the paladin was not prepared for, especially with the cannon hindering him. He would be unable to fight offensively, only defend himself as needed until he could discard the cannon. He called out a warning to the Dullahan who stood by the treeline, "Four more! Watch the trees!"

 

[Epiphany]

Aymeline

The Soul Tie leads inexorably to another ruin, with the chewed turf of metal-clad boots showing a clear charge inside. Aymeline follows the trail in, ducking her head at the entrance. The hallway inside rises up in a sloped ceiling, just barely enough for her to fit in. But it leaves no room for swinging the White Warcry. With the press of a button, she configures it down into a smaller, portable rod that she tucks into her belt.

And then, seeing the Wall Maidens boiling out of the walls, Aymeline responds to their feeble claw swipes by swinging her massive mail-clad arms, using her far larger weight and bulk to simply grind the Darkborne into the walls and crush them with her passage. Like a bowling ball skidding down a gutter, Aymeline jogs forward and runs over anything that gets in her way.

Pryonn needed backup and, by the Light, he'd get it!

 

[Trappy]

Hearthfall Season - Noon
Maria
The Ruins, Darkwoods​

• Maria
• Interacted / Mentioned

• 
  
  As the dark beasts' corpse begin to disintegrate and the dust begun to settle on her side, Maria cautiously watched as they scurried out of the vicinity. "Odd." - The thought escaped her mouth, as it must've seemed for most, if not all of her comrades at the time, for the concept of retreat is not something known of the Dark hordes, not even Maria knew they were capable of such course of actions, at least until now, when such presumptions were proved to be clearly outdated. Frankly, the guardian was not sure as to how she, and the group, should react to this, and while she was still considering their choices, Pryonn, the exceptionally bold chevalier of the group sounded a romantic battle-cry as he charged after the fleeing Dark beasts, leaving most of the group behind, confused. Some immediately took off after him, including an Incruscan and the giant, Aymeline, who rallied the rest of the expedition to assist the Knight in his rather daring attempt at glory. Maria replied to her gallant comrade's call to arms, but as she made her depart from the site, she'd taken notice of a particular individual. One can not hope to comprehend the games and plans of the saints above, but the girl had to wonder what curse or miracle had befallen them to be introduced to strange new faces almost on a daily basis, ever since they signed up for this quest.
  
  "Save the chatter for later, you two, we're not done here."
  Exposed in potentially hostile territory and a reckless comrade to save, Maria could only yell at the newcomer and Margot the mage, before speeding after Aymeline and others.
  
  Passing crooked debris, ancient ruins and into another one of them, something was telling the Guardian that her comrades were just ahead, as well as what appeared to be several ominous presences disturbing them. Maria assumed it was whatever the giant casted upon them, and she was certainly grateful for the gift. As it appeared, the ruin featured a closed hall - an ideal site for an ambush. The dark hall was the enemy's advantage - even a corporal could see that, and their group had just emerged from an ambush. The beasts would be right at home fighting in these unilluminated, claustrophobic quarters, and Maria wasn't risking any chances. If the environment favoured the beasts, then it had favoured the wrong side. Using her powers, the Guardian 'peeled' off the base the walls holding up half of the structure her comrades were in. Consequently, half of the ceiling and all the apparatus or dust that came with it crumbled down onto the floor, the beasts and an 'umbrella' the girl had created for her comrades, gently bouncing off falling debris and rubble before they could do them any harm. The move had exposed the beasts to the radiant light of the sun, as well as giving her comrades more ground to show their skills, but it also took a toll on the girl. "Useless..." She mumbled in a winded state, leaning onto the bardiche. But there was no time for a break. Maria moved forth towards others, reminding herself that more hostiles could emerge anytime, and the guardian had to be prepared to fight alongside and defend her fellows. Now, what else had this sinister place got in store for them?
  
  
• 
  Interacted: Slop Vyseryx
  Mentioned: Ruins Group!
  

 

[Spireshade]

Under the magical veil, his face twisted to a scornful frown at her touch. He reminded himself to ensure that whatever she was, he would never meet more of them. At least, not one that was in any terms alive, or conscious. His studies always came first after emotion after all. His hand absentmindedly swiped hers away from his face.

"Yes. Darkborne." The flesh of his arm no longer exposed itself so openly, and sealed itself, leaving only a thin reddish-watery film over the shifting, scarred surface. He hid his strange appendage under the sleeve of his robe once more.

"Save the chatter for later, you two, we're not done here."

His attention snapped back to what was most important. More threats ahead, more threads to snip. His eyes scanned the ruin, only briefly stopping at a blackened path that the large armored fellow, Pyronn? Might've charged down. He jogged his memory of peripheral events, but couldn't quite come to a conclusion on his own. Thankfully, it seemed that a polearm wielding member of the party had already began to forge ahead, and in her wake, he followed.
Ruins became darker, until the sound of footsteps greeted him at the mouth of a narrow hall. He bit his lip at the structure, slightly annoyed at how uselessly limited his whip would be. If he were alone, he would be free to swing his weapon as much as he would like, but with others about, he wouldn't be able to without the risk of friendly fire, or even the teeth from ineffectively blunting themselves on the walls. The sword would just have to do it here.

But, as if his thoughts were being read, the ceiling and walls fell away, washing the area in the golden glow of the sun. He tapped his staff in excitement, and began to unsheathe it, the same segments glistening with the taste of the previous darkborne. It was in his own best interest to keep close to the figures out front, so as not to get cut down from the back if they were to get flanked. He grasped to his blade tightly as he moved to engage.

@Ruins!

 

[Midrick]

Pat watched as the knight spoke in verse, bravado and nobility in his voice. Pat could respect it, but would never be a walking talking cliché like Pryonn was. Informing Pat of his knightly duty to charge head first into the enemy, his reckless abandon betraying itself through his theatrics. Pat was a simple man when it came to combat, he liked getting shit done brutally and effectively, trying to be fancy or becoming an actor in a play in the middle of a duel usually got you killed. But it kind of amused him, Pryonn acted more like an overstimulating child than a death machine of walking steel. Pat stepped beside Pryonn, staring down the monsters materializing out of the walls, he gripped the haft of the axe in his hands, prepped himself for another round of combat.

He heard another tirade of verse from Pryonn, Pat was starting to feel the rush right before you felt a blade sink into armor and flesh. "That's not how you threaten someone Pryonn, this is how you do it." he let go of the haft with his left hand and pointed at one of the wall maidens. "Hey you!" he yelled, words reverberating through the hallway. "I'M GONNA RIP YOUR SPINE OUT AND BEAT YOUR FRIEND TO DEATH WITH IT!!!" his challenge enraging the beasts, he began to charge with Pryonn. "LET'S DO THIS!!!" he bellowed as he charged with his axe in an upward position, preparing to cleave downward when he ended his charge. His intensity radiated around him, no doubt his teammates could feel it through the soul tie, hopefully they would be able to see him in action before the duo wrecked the opposing forces, tending them into piles of sludge and dust.

Unwavering Knight Kabboom Epiphany @Ruins

 

[Kabboom]

The Ruins

The Wallmaidens were met with intense resistance, that much was clear. The major downside of being a creature that relies on shock tactics and intimidation to fight, is that you are effectively defenseless against a foe that understands what you are. Wallmaidens have been documented long ago, and their appearance is no fresh sight, and because of that familiarity, the defenders found no trouble in dispatching of the flying creepy maids. The walls, along with a part of the ceiling had been torn apart, falling rubble and debris glancing off the adventurers with no consequence, each protected by an invisible gravity bubble. Hissing ferociously at the rude intrusion of daylight that has never stepped foot within the interior since the ancient day that the building was erected, many of the Wallmaidens were distracted just enough to be dispatched of, with many perishing under Aymeline's stampeding footsteps, and two more falling fresh prey to Pat's aggressive advance.

However, that was enough victories. The Wallmaidens, revitalized with the death of their sisters, begun their fierce counterattack. Three flew directly upwards, clawing fervently at the Giant intruder, while two more glided past the two front-line knights, and concentrated upon the flesh-mage in the rear, with one set of claws already sinking into the man's right shoulders. Five more flocked towards the succubus and the remaining three surged towards the mage identified as Ezra, and the swordswoman Maria. With the Wallmaiden force fully dispatched, the remaining force of Scrappers in sight quickly hustled, shaking free of the debris that had claimed one of their number, and immediately struck Pryonn and Pat in a peculiar way: rather than springing headfirst into their prey, the critters instead skirted to the newly-opened space, and waited for just a brief moment. Immediately, a contingent of new Scrappers busted through the decrepit walls, creating 2 petite holes for each respected individual knight, before promptly pulling them backwards into the hole, with the old Scrappers giving a boost in the form of a full frontal charge. And down the two went.

[IMG='width:815px;']https://img00.deviantart.net/5d4a/i/2010/276/d/9/library_by_peyop-d2zzmbx.jpg[/IMG]
​

The building revealed its true function, serving as some kind of elaborate library, once upon a time. Whatever's left of the rotting books now lie upon fallen shelves, and sinister cobwebs compete with thick overgrowth for free real estate, engulfing much of the surface area everywhere in the room. The yellowish hues of sunlight were dyed blue by the stained glasses in the dome above, with the roof having been fortunate enough to survive Maria's stunt. A decorative contraption lie in the center of the grand hall, which has since been repurposed for use both by spiders and Darkborne, with Dark ooze festering amidst scurrying arachnids atop their spindled webs. A most unsatisfying thud reverberated throughout the structure, as the Scrappers and the two knights fall from the stairway, off the railing, and right onto the ground near the centerpiece. Immediately, the Scrappers scurry out, through the wooden doors that stood not far from the base of the two staircases.

Elsewhere, a gestalt psychic aura could be felt, with an overwhelming and foreboding sense of an awakening horror overflowing all magic-capable adventurers at once. The pulsating, ringing, screeching feeling harked to the ancient fears of man and beast alike, the overarching horror of the Dark and all its maleficent powers that had not been forgotten by humanity. It beckoned them to come to the central structure within the area, clawing at the barren cathedral walls that barely contained its festering presence, and desired not to duel, nor to bargain; it thirsts only for their blood, as it consumes them wholesale.

Midrick QizPizza Epiphany BioshockRP Trappy Unwavering Knight Slop Spireshade
The Hunting Grounds

Kyden was not having the best of days. Not even 30 seconds in, he could barely feel his right leg as he ran for his life, and his left foot feels like it's lost more toes than the actual amount of toes he had left on his left foot. The arrows and musket balls were cutting close, snapping off pieces of claw and tongue off of the Cavities left in his stride. They'd cleared out the entirety of the left side of the clearing, and he was moving to the right side. Only a few more seconds of frantic running now, and he'll be back to the outpost in one piece, hopefully.

It started going downhill when the big lady with the cross-cannon opened fire directly onto the field behind him. A rumbling shockwave accompanied by dust and debris smacked Kyden in the flank, loosing his step atop a preying Cavity. With ferocity, it clamped down on his foot, sharpened maw piercing right through his boots and into his fragile flesh. Yelping out in pain, Kyden could only stop and clutch at his foot, his momentum stopped completely. In the distance, he could hear the lead elf archer call a hold-fire order to everyone, too wary of friendly fire. The elfling, the little girl with the weird animals, seemed to be a good candidate to land the shot. The guardsman hadn't been looking, but she seemed to have landed every shot so far. Kyden can only hope she won't miss this shot.

-robert- LuciTheGreat RubyZoo
The Ridge

The Scrapper crushed beneath the rock elemental twitched and howled its cries of bloody murder, but to no avail, as its imaginary lungs gave way to the backbreaking dirt and stone that pressed it flat. Its pale red eyes flicker in intensity and hue, as a blackened fog begins to evaporate out through its dirtied gaping jaws, seeping through the soiled dirt. Three more Scrappers run up to Phos' current location beneath the ground, but unlike their leader, these creatures claw at Spessartite's approximate location with their claws, hissing and screeching in symphony.

The Runners assailing Eevie and Audun howled to each other from behind concealment, with the dullahan nearly taking one's head off after it peeked out to screech a command to the ones that seemed to be circling Audun's position. A split-second of surreal silence elapsed, with either side waiting on the other to make the first move. That split-second was violently ripped apart by a blundering fireball striking dead center of its target, between the dullahan and the Seraph, with enough of a shockwave to knock both off their balance. Immediately, the Runners struck with uncanny synchronization, deploying two-pronged assault tactics. The first Runner was bisected by a snap shot, or rather, a snap snap from the dullahan as she dropped to the ground, with the other pouncing upon her. The two remaining Runners assail Audun instead, one running full speed towards the cannon, flinging it off the Seraph's grip, while the other pounced upon Audun's head, biting downwards, teeth scraping against the helmet.

All while this was happening, Desmond seemed to be cowering behind a tree, way back when the first fireballs started landing. It hadn't been a long time since his last fight against the Darkborne, but it had been a long enough time for him to forget what it was like to be under artillery fireball assault. The howling, the senseless murder, it all came back at once, too much for one man to bear alone. Consumed by the fight that cut within, all that he could do was take shelter, and fight against it, while the rest of the men moved ahead. So far, he'd succeeded in calming himself, and the sudden outburst of Dark thoughts seemed to mask him somewhat against the Rottapults' sensory organs, making him not as juicy of a target as the others. That said, however, he was now embarking upon his own life or death adventure, as a detachment of Runners had flocked to his position.

U UnbelievableCow Albion QizPizza Sybil @Beowulf

 

[ShiyaRose]

Gwenyth ​

Evil lurked all around in the outside world. It hid in the shadows, cowered in the corners and seeped into the land itself. Everywhere you looked, there was something evil lurking. At least, that's how the young Sylvari felt as she crept along the outskirts of the ruins, a chill running up her spine. She could hear and feel the battle raging on inside those ruins, voices echoing outside the ruins. Gwenyth instinctively touched the hilt of an ornate sword she took from the encampment before she embarked on her journey to aid the adventurous that were currently inside those treacherous ruins. This would be her first 'mission' since finishing her training, and had no idea what to expect other than she'd probably be facing off against some dastardly, otherworldly creatures that threatened all life on this world. No biggie.

Unfortunately Gwenyth was rather late to the party. She was sent out to aid them due to her healing powers, but along the way Gwenyth had found many distractions that delayed her arrival. She was still fresh to the outside world, having known her peaceful forest all her life, so Gwenyth was determined to see everything the world had to offer before she got summoned back to her tribe. The world was scary, but exciting, and the Darkwoods were vastly different to her homeland. Perhaps, due to her fragile body structure, Gwenyth would be wise to be more cautious in the outside world. Especially as her combat skills outside of her healing magic weren't the greatest. It was a wonder she made it this far without any dangerous encounters, perhaps she had the secret power of Luck on her side.
The ground suddenly vibrated violently, followed by some loud crashing noises from inside the ruins. Gwenyth stumbled a bit and covered her ears as she felt magic swirl around her, ruffling the flowers upon her shoulder. The magic had no evil intent behind it, Gwenyth sensed. It most likely originated from one of the Guardians inside the ruins. Perhaps it was due time Gwenyth entered the fray herself. "Diogelu fi, mam natur." Gwenyth whispered in her mother tongue, drawing out her sword from the make-shift belt she had also taken from the encampment. Perhaps stolen might be a better phrase, as Gwenyth did not ask permission to remove those items from their original place. The red, blooming flowers on Gwenyth's shoulders and the fuchsia leaves tied up on her head glowed faintly as Gwenyth moved forward, the sword heavy in her delicate hands. She could swing it... Kind of. She was better at wielding a dagger, but for some reason Gwenyth felt safer with a sword in her hand as she entered the ruins.
The Sylvari shuddered as a strong, evil presence lingered in the air of the ruins. Some unworldly creatures lurked within these ruins, that Gwenyth was sure of. She also felt a huge disconnect to nature the further she wandered in, her power dwindling slightly as a result. Everything inside of Gwenyth screamed for her to get out, and run as far away as she can but Gwenyth shoved that thought to the back of her mind. She was a Guardian now, this was her job. The sounds of the battle grew louder as Gwenyth navigated through the ruins, noticing that the walls were now missing and the sunlight was streaming down onto her back. She still felt cold, regardless, but at least she could see properly.
Gwenyth rounded a corner and stopped as she saw some figures ahead of her. They were all fighting against something, but Gwenyth could not make out what it was. Gwenyth wanted to help, but she also needed to make her presence known to the Guardians before her, lest they mistaken her for an enemy.
"Hello, I am here to assist." Gwenyth spoke out, edging closer to the group, her brown eyes widening as she watched the action unfold before her. Her voice was soft and sing-song like with a heavy, celtic-like accent. She spoke slowly, as one often did when speaking a new language, but she pronounced all her words clearly and with relative confidence.

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