Fantasy Natural Selection [Reboot] (Full)

[Morgrim]

Landfall, a land once knowing lasting peace has been distraught with trouble and turmoil due to the rising threat: the Cultists. With a mission entirely unbeknownst to the rest of the world it can only be said that their plans are sinister.


Their first mission was to capture each of the Champions, and regretfully they have succeeded. Now the Champions must escape from their capture, and when they do they find out that the world has actually fallen into an even worse condition than it was in the years previous.


Now there are beasts that hunger for the world's magic, as well as rift gates that can summon the Cultists to wherever they desire - nearly everything is under their control. The Champions must band together and rise against the threat of total annihilation.


With the world divided by the warring factions, it is up to the most unlikely heroes to bring everyone together against the most dangerous threat the continent of Landfall has ever known. They must raise an army and fight against the oldest and most dangerous god to have ever lived, the Nameless One.
​

 

[Morgrim]

The cultists have become a rising threat in the world of Aldurin, namely in Landfall, the largest of the three landmasses. beings that shed all sense of identity, going as far as to silence themselves permanently. Never once has one been seen without their iconic robes and masks, and never once has a cultist been seen trying to help anyone other then themselves. A small group of people have been targeted by them, and each of these people have a special mark adorning there body, the mark of the old gods known as the aspects. One by one each of these people have been captured by the cultists and brought to a damp prison inside of the rift gates.


These special gates known as rift gates are the portal between the cultists world, and the mortal realm of Landfall, and never once has someone been seen returning from one of these gates. Each one of these people would awaken in a dark prison with creaking walls and dark corners. Little to no light other then a barred off window providing a reddish glow. Each one of them would have been stuck in there for a day or two by this point without having received any food or water, and little hope of escape. All that was there to give them any clue of what was in store for them was the runes on the way that could be translated to "The blood of the betrayers will open the gate to our god, and with their power we will cleanse the world with the blood of the weak." A cryptic message that could be interpreted as a sacrifice of each of the people in the room.


Morgrim one of the first to wake may be in the best of condition as he went without much hassle, and has the least need for food and water being an undead species. "Fucking faceless freaks. I swear the next one that comes in here i will rip out there tongue for putting me in here." It was then Morgrim would take notice of the others in the room. "What do you say we gang up on the one that tries to take us. There are twelve of us, and one of them, at least we'll stand a chance."



​

Spoiler

The Champions are located in the Cell Holding Heroes.

 

[CarpeNoctem1213]

Darrius' eyes blink open and he looks around blearily, wondering where he is and what in the hell he drank the night before to give him this pounding headache. He rubs his eye with the heel of his palm and the events of his capture flash into his mind; He'd been returning to Dunheim after dropping off some goods he'd smuggled out of the city in a small village to the North when a group of masked freaks jumped him. He'd tried to fight them off, wounding a few before finally getting knocked out himself by a pretty hard blow to the head by some sort of ice-based weapon. He's lucky his horns absorbed most of the blow or his skull would've cracked.


All of a sudden the pain hits him; he's got several bruises in various places on his body and hunger is gnawing at his stomach; he's felt worse, so that's the least of his problems at the moment. He groans quietly to himself and actually takes in his surroundings, his devillish sight allowing him to see in the dim light as if he was in a brightly lit room. The first thing he notices are the other people with him in the...Yep, this is a cell. Great. He blinks a few more times and turns to look in the direction of the guy who suddenly speaks up, taking in the sight of the corpse-man. That explains the smell...


He listens to the man's plan and nods, not even taking the time to think it over. "I'm game. I gotta give somebody some payback for knockin' me out," he says, his black eyes glinting.

Tag: Errybody Mood: Irritated & Sore Location: Cultist Prison

Music Equipment

​

 

[Federoff]

Daecante

How long had it been since he last saw the light of day? Two, maybe three days? he thought to himself as he kept his sight towards the dark abyss that was outside, darkness was everywhere. Nothing he wasn't use to though; the life of a bard was a dangerous one, sometimes he would be put into the prisons of nobles that were pissed off at him or had caught him in an act. But sooner or later he had escaped each one with everything in tact, aside from the broken skulls of those that had held him that it. In the beginning this is what Daecante thought was going on and assumed he would see the face of the noble scumbag that would be his captor- if that was the case. But after reading that message on the rune and locating several cultists coming and going, he deduced otherwise. Sigh... Why is it always cultists? Daecante thought to himself as he continued to strum on his guitar, a action that he took when deep in though. In distracting the body he could better concentrate on the situation at hand. He thought back to his sister and how long ago she was apart of that blasted cult, one he had to personally help stop from carrying out their dastardly plans; at least that one had a happy ending, he had gotten his sister back. This was looking a bit too grim for his tastes; better change that


The bard began to sing a cryptic and upbeat song to try and cheer up the mood and atmosphere, nothing would come from mopping around in the darkness and awaiting their demise; by staying upbeat he could stay positive and have more energy to think and act. As he began to sing his song of a far off desert landscape of hell others would be able to envision this desert landscape if their eyes were closed or asleep, one of his fellow prisoners spoke out and tried to rally together a last ditch effort to escape, So they awaken... Daecante smiled and nodded in agreement; his music beginning to invigorate and energize as his melodies began to resonate with those in the cells with him(See Resonating Melody).


"My songs are yours amigo, use them wisely" Daecante replied with a light accent, his head bobbing down slightly to tip his hat as he continued to play onward, the lyrics may have stopped but the song continued to go on. His smile did not diminish in the slightest as he surveyed the rest of the group, awaiting for them to jar from their state of being and rally behind the cause that was freedom.

Spoiler

(see his theme song)


Nothing but sand below your feet


The burning sun, the killing heat


What is this place you brought yourself?


It must be hell.


This is the place the kyx do live


Don't come too close, they don't forgive


"Intruder, you are not allowed"


"Hurry, get out"


(Daecante turns his head to face the rest of his fellow prisoners of the strange cult that now entrapped them, not truly facing anyone specifically)


The Demon's are spying on you


Are you not who they want you to be?


You must keep walking through all this sand


Into Forbidden land


(The bards eyes went from face to face and scanend each one for detail on who they might be, something he did on a regular basis with the nobles. Thin walls have big mouths as he always liked to say. Despite it being dark he could clearly make out each face, not only due to him being in dark prisons like this before but also due to the fact that the desert could be a dark place at night; or when inside.


Can't go back now, You feel you are near


But they already know You are here


Fierce are our eyes, sharp are our swords


Countless of Kyx, but only one Lord


He is the one to fear


The Sun above,


shines relentless on you and the sand


But when he falls


cold embraces you like an old friend


(After scanning the group his gaze stopped on Roxii, the Lythari among their group, and simply gave her a little nod accompanied by a wink; the nod tipping his hat for him like before, as if a greeting between the two. His musical powers would implant the image of him doing so in Roxii's mind eye, allowing the blinded girl to see his action albeit temporary)


Your goal is far


But you must keep going 'till the end


Don't look back,


just keep going into our land


Sun is rising, sand is melting


Sun is falling, nights are freezing


Winds are blowing, Sandstorms brewing


You will go through!

Daecante






Location: Prison cell of the Cultists


Mood: Trying to stay positive, Supporting, Somewhat Dreary


With: Everyone, Specific interation with Morg (@Morgrim ), Nodd to Roxii (@Javax )


Theme: Gerudo Valley- LoZ


[media]

[/media]

 

[AnimusLight]

????? ??????

• ?
• ?
• ?

• 
  
  

  
  _Tagging_
  
  
  Everyone
  
  
  _Location_
  
  
  Cell
  
  
  
• Eat my ass, Morg *flips the bird*
• Music

​

A massive headache awakes it but that's not the main reason why Al's annoyed. Its stomach growls obnoxiously loud as air is squeezed by the stomach muscles. The abnormal amount of volume is because of too much air. Al's stomach calls painfully for food that even the few bugs it spots in the poorly lit cell is beginning to look tasty. It blames the odd mask robe people for forcing it here.


Al was only trying to have fun with a group of orcs that played hide and seek with it. The orcs died because Al didn't get caught by them- but the serious mask-robe people caught the orcs. It was exhausted already after playing with the orcs for more than an hour and tried to run away after paralyzing a few of those rude mask-robe guys. But the mask-robe people caught Al like a bird snared in a trap. It blacked out after that and here it was with other weird people for what seemed like forever. At least they don't wear similar stuff to the captors.


A pleasant song comes from the bone wearing guy which Al half pays attention to. The man who speaks up first turns Al's focus. Its first thought was, the guy smells- "Shitty..." mutters Al out loud. Then it takes note to the guy's appearance and nods in acceptance. Its face turns to the other awakened person in the cell. Two horns stand out which makes Al have the urge to pull on them- but that would be rude in this situation, Al tells itself.


Shitty man sounds reasonable and logical. But Al must point out the most important need right now. It nods, adjusting the cloth scarf covering half of its face.


"Yes. I like how that sounds- then we steal all their food right after." And their stock on whatever liquid- water, juice- maybe grape juice.

 

[shadowz1995]

"Now now gentlemen. I know I killed your friends but they attacked me first. I mean granted, I didn't have to KILL them but....you know I get these urges sometimes. You understand right?" The elder vampire stated through a cruel grin, the blood of his attackers glistening on his teeth. Ether's tone was genuine but the crazed, bloodthirsty look in his eyes told another tale.


The cultists had gone to quite extraordinary lengths to contain him. Ether has many enemies but he doesn't think anyone would go this far. The spellsword was contained by a multilayered holy barrier after sending 12 of the cultists to early deaths. "Hahaha! Well if you guys wanted to catch my attention then you certainly have it now." His remark was replied to by the cultists in the former of adding another layer to the barrier and further increasing the pain and pressure Ether was being placed under by the barrier. The blood mage was powerful but even he could put up with this much holy power for such a prolonged period of time.


"Ugh.....where did those little bastards..." he groaned as he awoke in dungeon where he found he wasn't alone. With his supernatural senses the first thing that hit him was the smell. "Oh Gods what smells like death and rot....." As Ether's night vision kicked in, he noticed those around him and introduced himself, "Well, hello chain friends. What brought you in?"

 

[Javax]

Health: 16%

Status: Wounded | Famished | Dehydrated

✘

Tagged: @Morgrim | @CarpeNoctem1213 | @Federoff | @AnimusLight | @shadowz1995


Mentioned: Morgrim | Darrius | Daecante | Al | Ether

Mood: Pained | Irritated | Suspicious


Location: Cultist Dungeon: Heroes' Cell

☣

Outfit: [sanguine Isle-issued miner's clothing]





Equipment:

None

∞

Notes: LET'S GET THIS SHIT GOIN' HELL YEAH


[CHARACTER SHEET]

The first thing she took note of was the headache hammering against her skull in sync with her heartbeat. It felt as though someone was repeatedly slamming into her head with a warhammer with little to no mercy. The Lythari scrunched up her face in annoyance and brought a hand up to her head. There seemed to be some sort of liquid crusted onto her temple that trickled down underneath her blindfold. Prodding the origin of the dried blood made her grimace; the wound was still rather fresh, probably only a day or two old. It didn't seem to be tended to, so there was a high chance that it could get infected soon if it wasn't already.


Roxii focused on her surroundings. Where was she? What had happened? She sniffed the air lightly and one of her wolfen ears twitched. There were others in the room—eleven others, to be exact—of varying species and class, and it seemed that they were stirring. Were they in the same predicament as her, or were they involved in her capture? The wolf-elf took a moment to regain a bit more strength then called upon her shadow magic to send out an energy pulse. Judging by the extremely clear image she received, it was rather dark where she was. The room was sort of like a cell, with only one exit. There didn't seem to be much else in the chamber, other than the eleven strangers.


She furrowed her brows together in contemplation. How did she end up here? The blind assassin was having a hard time remembering what she was doing last. Her memories were fuzzy and it was difficult to focus on one thought at a time. Every time she tried to grasp one of the recollections, it seemed to slip through her fingertips back into the foggy depths of her mind. It was frustrating, to say the least. But then a pang of sharp pain erupted in her gut. She winced. When was the last time she'd eaten?


Oh, yeah. Almost a week before she'd been taken from Sanguine Isle.

➼ ➼ ➼

​

Spoiler

The wolf-elf swung the pickaxe with the last of her strength. The pick dug into the stone with a resonating ting, but it wasn't enough to dislodge the coal. But the hybrid was too tired to do anymore. She hadn't had food in six days and water in five. Her strength was dissipating quickly, and she'd hardly rested well in gods know how long. The assassin needed rest, food, water—anything if she were to stay alive. Roxii collapsed to her knees, the mining tool clattering to the ground. Perhaps it would just be better if she just let the diseases and infections kill her. She couldn't take this torture anymore.


The elven hybrid heard footsteps approaching her. Then the crack of the whip sounded. Simultaneously, sharp, stinging pain ripped through her back, causing a cry of agony to escape from her. She whipped her body forward in retaliation, resting her arms on her thighs while covering the back of her head in her hands. She was trembling from the immense pain and exhaustion that racked her body.


"Get up," a gruff voice demanded. But the blind assassin couldn't gather the strength to follow commands. She was too tired... Too exhausted... It was always said that no one ever left Sanguine Isle alive, and Roxii had told herself that she'd be the first. But that was back in the first week. Somehow, she'd lasted two years, but the Lythari wished she'd hadn't. If she had known what was in store for her, then she would've never kept going.


The fall of the whip connected with her back again. "Get up," the man repeated more forcefully. But again, the wolf-elf couldn't move. This could be her chance to let go. She could just let him whip her to death, let herself bleed out or have an infection take over. The Lythari would be able to spend the rest of eternity in Vemwyn, commonly known as the Mad Lands, the afterlife for hybrid elves. She may be sent to a hellish realm of madness and, over time, lose her memories of her life, but anything would be better than enduring the torment of Sanguine Isle.


The man raised the hand gripping the whip again. "I said, get the fu–"


"Enough!" The whip-bearing guard halted, averting his attention to the labor camp's warden, Lance Renier, approaching. Two other guards were escorting him, and the whip-bearing guard lowered the whip and sneered at the warden in irritation. Renier stopped before the guard and the kneeling Roxii, gazing from the whip to the rogue. After a moment of silence, the warden spoke again. "Bring her to my office."


Warden Renier then turned on his heel and began walking out of the mines. The two guards that had escorted him approached the blind Lythari on either side and picked her up off the ground roughly, causing a yelp of pain to escape her, and began dragging her out of the mines and back out to the main building of Sanguine Isle. She silently wondered what the warden wanted with her. Unfortunately, it seemed she wouldn't be dying this day.


The assassin didn't even make it to the main building. Lance Renier was outside with four other men, but Roxii couldn't identify them. They were new, and, judging by her small pulses, they were cloaked men that didn't seem to have any sort of identity to begin with. She didn't even fight back when the guards shoved her into their hands. She was too exhausted to even question what was going on.


It wasn't until the robed men began to walk her out of the gates and onto a boat that she began to squirm. She opened her mouth to speak, to inquire where she was being taken, but no words came out. She was too dehydrated, her throat too dry and raspy. The wolf-elf clenched her fists and began trying to fight back. The robed men struggled with containing her and did the only thing available to stop her from moving: grabbed one of their daggers and slammed the hilt into her temple. Roxii crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as a trickle of blood began to form and travel down her face.

➼ ➼ ➼

​

The blind rogue winced at the memory, the pain of the lashes coming with it. Who were the robed men? Cultists, perhaps. She hadn't heard much of what was going on outside the walls of Sanguine Isle, but what she'd gathered was that there was a group of cultists arising. But why capture her? She was of no use to them, especially in this terrible state.


Now plunged back into the real world, Roxii realized that the others present were beginning to become more active. She scrunched up her face in disgust. One of them smelled abhorrent. She traced the scent back to the one who spoke first, suggesting that they attempt to escape when one of the cloaked men enters. His plan was logical: twelve against one was reasonable. As for how many of them were in fighting condition, she wasn't too sure. Some of the others verbally agreed to the first, though one of them began creating music. The assassin crinkled her nose in irritation; these cultists sure did have an unusual taste in prisoners.


A flash of an image entered the wolf-elf's mind, somewhat startling her. It was of the musician, playing his guitar and nodding to her in acknowledgement and greeting with a wink. She wondered why he did as such. Did he greet everyone in a similar manner, or was it just her? Did he know her? If so, how? Her identity was, for the most part, unknown to Landfall. The only people who could match her appearance to her name were those in Sanguine Isle, who were to never leave. Was he a laborer? She didn't remember the cultists grabbing anyone else. Perhaps they captured him earlier or later than her. Either way, she'd keep an eye on him (ironically).

 

[Fluffy-Kat]

The light elf had been held in the cell for two days now. The first twenty fours she slept, unconscious and unaware of her surroundings. But earlier this day, she had finally awoken. She wondered what day it was. Wondered how long she was kept in this dreadfully damp cell. Who had put her here, and why? Where were her beloved weapons? However, she wasnt alone. There were others. Each one in the same cell with her. She couldnt get a glimpse at how many there were, at least not those in the dark corners. But from the two she could see infront of her, she could tell there were a handful. Her senses helped too. A creature of Light has a talent for sensing beings around her, and there were more than just three, perhaps ten or eleven. What have they all done to deserve this? Surely someome must be responsible. In the time shes been awake, no one has come to give food or water, and even if they did, they would presumably give very little of it, if any. It was a torturing technique. Physically weakening prisoners, letting them feel their stomachs and insides turn on them and begin eating themselves. Lucky for Eleniel, Elves didnt have to eat much, and can go a few days with out a good, hardy meal. If her wardens wanted to play this game, she would wait it out as long as she could.


Now, she sits with her back against one of the clamy cell walls, right beside the bars of the cell. Her legs stretched and crossed over one another infront of her. The elvish maiden sat with her arms crossed, the back of her hooded head resting on the mossy wall. For hours she sat there, silently thinking to herself. Thinking of a way to escape, and how to get the others out too. In the corner opposite from her, water dripped from the ceiling in the same time intervals. Over and over, like clock work. It dropped into a puddle below, the sound rippling in the chamber. And each time it sounded, Eleniel had a hard time ignoring it. The sound had begun to get louder it seemed, and it began to remind her of the wasted time that had already passed....


Drip....drop....


Tick....tock....


That is, until, a strum of strings distracted her. Her head turned from the puddle to another part of the cell, looking into the darkness, where the melody was coming from. The music started to go against the dripping, in a very off-tempo way, creating more bothersome noise that gnawed at the back of her mind whether she payed attention to it or not. She scowled, and suddenly the musician had begun to sing, adding to the affect even further. The elf huffed a sigh of irritation,"I do hope a string breaks..." she whispered under her breath, and turned away from the cell mates infront of her.


This dungeon was no place for a Light elf. Her Light flickered weakly. Too much Darkness crowded into one space, enveloping and surrounding her. Not only did it linger in the air of the chambers like a putred stench (perhaps that could be from our corpse friend a little ways away) but it emitted from several other bodies in the room with her. That was how she was able to sense the number of people that were stuck in the same situation she was. Her natural detection for the Darkness worked as a radar or a type of locator, allowing her to sense them when ever they were near. But now they were too close, and too concentrated. She needed out. That Darkness weighed heavily on her. Making her feel slow and a little more lethargic than usual. It made breathing feel like an extra effort, and keeping awake like a difficult challenge. Her skin tingled under her armor with every pulse of Dark that reached her body. The fire with in her (her source of Light) moved unstabley with every reach, every breath getting tighter.


But the lack of air could be from something else as well. The Light elf raised a small hand and cupped it around the front of her neck. Taking a deep breath, she coughed twice. Eleniel wasnt able to remember how someone managed to get her into a cell in the first place. She isnt one to give in easily, so there must have been a fight....but... she couldnt recall a thing. The elf rubbed her skin gently, feeling the tender, blueish/purpleish hand marks around her neck. Of course, she couldnt actually see the bruises but she could definitely feel them, which confirmed they were there. She must have been strangled into unconsciousness in order to be brought in here. Otherwise she wouldnt have given up with out a good fight. How sneaky... the elf was small (especially for an elf) so manhandling her by putting her into a choke hold was a cheap and low blow. Using a very big weakness against her. She may have been quick, and quick to react, but when it comes down to it, it doesnt take much to over power the petite female in a test of physical strength. Her fire grew at the thought, cursing herself for letting who ever it was get close enough to be able to do that. But getting angry for what has already come to pass wasnt going to help anyone. There was nothing she could do about it now. She was already in the cell, now she has to think about the present and about how theyre going to break free. For the many years that shes lived, being captured wasnt something she seemed to be able to recollect in her memories. This was the first time in centuries, and my possibly be the first time ever.


Diagonally across from her, from what she could see and hear, someone had spoken up. Proposing to attack the next person that comes to feed them. Being fed through bars, like animals. It enraged her. But that seemed like their only chance, at least for now. Eleniel couldnt do much from inside the cell. Unless.... The elf looked down at her lap and opened her hand so that the palm would face upward. She stared for a moment, her blue eyes fixed on the center of her palm, and with in a few patient seconds wisps of white light, that looked like smoke, began to gather. And with a few more passing moments, it started to take the shape of a lock pick. The faint white-blue glow washed her face, and casted a small shadow onto the wall she was leaning on. But she couldnt keep it up long enough to pick the cell's lock, nor did she have the capability to give it some physical density and make it tangible. It was no use. Eleniel released the attempt and the figure dissipated. She realeased a breath, then followed by taking a deep one. Conjuring such things with Illúvatar's Wrath took a lot out of her, but it was worth a shot. Suddenly she regretted not focusing on that particular ability more as a child. Across from her, another voice had picked up,"Well hello chain friends. What brought you in?" With out moving her head, the elf's eyes raised from her lap to look at him. He was another dark one, she could see it. A dark hue surrounded him like mist, but she could see it being supressed by the barrier their captors put him in. Smart move on their part. She longed to be in his place, to drink up the Light from the barrier and be shielded from the dark that lingered,"If youre looking for friends you should consider looking else where," Eleniel spoke up, sounding a little unfriendly (as usual), suggesting any cell mate shouldnt even be considered a friend, who knows what theyve done to be put here. Course she couldve put the advice in a nicer manner, but in these conditions, nice was the last thing youd recieve from her. The Light elf looked back down, to her left side, eyeing the metallic mask she always wore. When she woke up it was off of her, a little ways a way from where her body had originally laid, perhaps they just tossed it in after they had placed her in the cell. She picked it up, watching the dim light create a sheen over its scrapes and dings. Placing it on her lap, she rested her head back onto the wall behind her, tilting her head up toward the ceiling and closing her eyes, exposing the bruises on her neck. She started growing tired once again, her energy levels draining, and her light level slowly with it. At this rate, her light will diminish until she was barely alive, but alive still. Torture. When she sat back up, the hood fell off of her head, exposing her silver white hair, and fair complexion. Her sapphire eyes twinkled in the poor light, looking outside the cell once again and watching the darkness hover about them. She could see it looming in the air like a thin layer of black smoke that traveled along the prison walkway. It was poison to her. Then she looked back at the Dark one across from her, enclosed by the barriers of light. Eleniel couldnt help but suspect the darkness she was feeling was deliberately and strategically existing there. Perhaps her captors surounded her with dark beings soley so that it would weaken her. It seemed like a fair idea, given that they placed the blood drinker with a special barrier. Maybe her imprisoners were smarter than she thought. Were they purposely weakening them? Did anyone else have some sort of weakness around them? From her placement she couldnt tell, it was dark further in the chamber and with her Light so low, seeing in the dark wasnt functioning as well as it usualy is, so she couldnt catch a good glimpse.


@shadowz1995


Mentioned: basically everyone xD

 

[McMajestic]

Jezebel had been at rest, or perhaps unconscious, when her body stirred at the sound of voices. She blinked rapidly, her eyes beginning to adjust to the the dim lighting. A smell she was quite familiar with wafted around and she breathed it in willingly.

Death. Her eyes landed on the undead man, who had made the suggestion of an ambush. She scoffed at the idea of it, adjusting slightly and listening to the steady clank of her chains. Voices spoke up in a rhythm, one after the other. It was the undead man's voice who had circled her ears and nipped until she had awoken, followed by a melodic type of music. It seemed that the ones who did refer to the man's plan were all for it. Jezebel shook her head at that. She loved watching chaos, yes, but being so close? In a blood zone? It made her wish to push herself farther against the wall. She would not get blood on her armor. Not a single drop.


She looked down at herself as if just noticing that her armor was gone. She could have shrieked in a panic had she not been blessed with a level head. Instead she assessed the situation, all the way back from the last thing she remembered. Her eyes closed as she thought, and her mind seemed to hum internally with the promise of a memory she desired. She had been watching murder before her vary eyes. A man she had enslaved to make her happy had been making trails of blood pour with his sword and she had remembered the joy in her eyes while she had watched. It was then, in her most distracted moment, that she was seemingly ambushed.


She had created the biggest possible blade she could wield and swung with a wide arch, slicing through two of the men, but of course there were many more than two. No one of her status went down so easily. It had been a flaw in judgement that had caused her capture. Truly, if she had stayed offensive like she originally intended she wouldn't have been in that cell. But they were a rather annoying breed of human and so she thought she could create the water armor for a defensive move. Unfortunately, she hadn't had enough practice. The concentration took quite a lot out of her and it broke on the second hit. She couldn't remember if she had fallen asleep willingly or not, though, not with the blurred images that ensued after her capture.


Her mind focused back on the voices, and she listened as they all spoke, although she felt a flicker of another memory when a voice spoke up. "Well, hello chained friends-" she stopped listening after that, her mind instead running a mile a minute. No, it couldn't be. She didn't care if it was but it didn't make sense. She huffed, trying to regain her composure. Had he noticed her? Did he remember her? No, she didn't care. That was the second time she'd thought that. Her lies always worked wonders so then why not this time?


It doesn't matter right now, she thought, and thankfully, that was the truth. She looked around at everyone, a small smirk on her face as she listened to a girl snap back at him. "I'd much rather figure out why we're here before we go bashing skulls in," she spoke up. Her voice was weak from the lack of food and water and her dry tongue licked over her chapped lips. No, this just wouldn't do. Her image would deteriorate without proper nutrients and she wasn't about to let herself get to such a point. "On second thought, just keep the blood on your side of the cell." The sooner she got out of here the sooner she could get her equipment back. Of course maybe...


She looked down at herself, and smiled when she noticed the pouch she kept at belt on her hip. It was waterproof and at least half filled with the liquid for emergencies. She jingled it against her hip, listening for the steady swish of water. She hardly heard anything. Jezebel let out a loud breath through her nose and attempted to pull the water out of the bag, her palm moving over it as best she could as she willed the water out of it. It was just a tiny cord's worth. She let it fall back into the pouch, looking over at the bars. She wasn't very good at the skill that cut through steel quite yet, but perhaps she could break something down. Although that was a discussion for a different time, it seemed. After everything was sorted out as best as it could be.

​

 

[shadowz1995]

Ether's fellow prisoners started to regain consciousness one by one and none of them seem to recall exactly how they were taken. Ether was spared the memory loss because of the barrier he was kept in and the cultists wouldn't have dared to try and knock him unconscious for fear of losing the barrier somehow. They had sacrificed a lot of men and time just to capture him after all.


When no one answered his original question besides the woman across from him, Ether was admittedly a little annoyed. Normally, that wouldn't bother him but it has been two days since he has been sealed and that means two days without feeding. Ether could go up to three weeks without feeding but that would cause his entire persona to shift. Only two days had gone by and he already found something as miniscule as this to annoy him. Nevertheless, the blood mage held it in check and decided to speak to the only person who acknowledged his statement. He scanned her through the light at first. She was certainly a looker. Petite, well toned, eyes of blue, and locks of fine silver. Ether might have said something engaging if it wasn't for the fact that beings that are old can feel the power of even older beings. And this elf was several centuries older than he was. "Yeah...well....it's not like I have much of a choice given the situation right she-elf? This damn barrier has been draining me for the past two days and it's kiiiind of driving me mad." The statement was punctuated with Ether's body giving an unwanted convulsion at all the activity he was doing. His body almost threw up the precious blood he had drank three days ago and that would have been bad news for him.


Another voice chimed up from the darkness and he didn't recognize it for a second. His eyes flitted in the direction he had heard it and there he saw a ghost of his past. That woman looked almost exactly like Jezebel. Gods, how many years had it been since he had seen her. Her scent was practically identical as well and it made him want to say something. However, Ether has been alive long enough to know that look alikes exist. People that look and smell so similarly to others. People that have moved on or otherwise died a long time ago. It almost makes the elder vampire want to believe in reincarnation. "You look a lot like a daughter I used to have lady. Like incredibly so. Hahaha but I doubt she would be somewhere like here. She's probably off somewhere making some man's life miserable....probably still mad at me too... WELL, what can be done right?" He added with a laugh at the end. His emotional state was changing alright. Ether almost never got melancholic.

 

[remembervvinter]

Vibrations. Tremors. That's all she could hear.


"Mmm..."


A soft hum was heard as another one of the prisoners had awakened, partly because she was finally coming back from unconsciousness and also because of the new voices that were speaking. Dear earthly spirit, what was that stench? And was that....music? Mylan slowly opened her eyes, the first thing that came into her view was the the engraved writing that was in the walls. "The blood of the betrayers will open the gate to our god, and with their power we will cleanse the world with the blood of the weak..." she read weakly, her voice slightly croaked. With a steady grip, she managed to pull herself up so that she was sitting upright, and then looked at her surroundings. It seemed that she was confined in a prison, along with several others who were most likely in the same situation as herself. Mylan quietly studied the other inmates, all who were very different. There was an elf, an undead man (who was most likely responsible for the smell), a demon who was the one playing the music, and so much more.


Mylan was puzzled, confused, and more importantly, hungry. How long had it been since she last ate? Not to mention her throat was dry as well. "Um...." Mylan began to say, looking through the bars, but quickly stopped as others began to speak. Perhaps it was best just to listen. The human closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as a way to regain her composure, and sat with her legs crossed. Mylan stood very still as she meditated, and the accompanying music was welcomed. In fact, in a way, the music helped her. She felt much more at peace, and revitalized. It didn't stop the hunger, but it did help her reach calmness. Mylan slowly opened her eyes and stood up, her barefoot against the cold floors of the prison. She placed her palm against the wall, and stood still for a moment. However, her face scrunched into an expression of confusion. "All of the tremors....they're not familiar at all," Mylan said as she took her hand off of the walls and then sat back down with a small sigh of exasperation.


'How did she get here in the first place' was the more important question that she should have thought about beforehand. Moreover, why was she in here? Mylan retraced her thoughts as she tried to recollect her memories. All she remembered was heading back to her small cottage, and then all of a sudden someone ambushed her. There was some fighting involved, and um....what else? Her eyes turned back to the engraved writing in the wall, and something about it just made things more eerie. Was she here to be sacrificed? Mylan let out a small sigh before looking at what others had to say. Someone mentioned breaking out, which was one of the main discussions, she assumed. "...We could wait until they come to take us, and then use that moment to fight back and escape?" she suggested.

 

[McMajestic]

Jezebel scowled in the dim lighting but quickly recovered. She looked over at Ether. That was him. "

You're the only person I intend to make miserable," she said, her words calculated and gently scarring. She knew at that moment, as the words rolled off her tongue, that the slight question in his voice would be answered. He wanted to know if it was truly her it seemed, the same girl who'd ran away from him. Jezebel had no qualms with letting him know exactly who he was dealing with. In fact, she wanted him to know all the suffering she had planned for him in the last eight years. She had only grown stronger since that time, after all. There had been a time where she couldn't beat him, but now she had an overwhelming confidence that she could. That she could destroy him.


Her hand reached out once more, and she looked at what little water she had left. "They'll have to be killed in the ambush, and it will have to be quick and silent." She looked around at everyone, beginning to notice distinct features as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. She took in Ether, who looked strikingly similar to the last time she had seen him. How odd was that? In eight years he still looked the exact same. In her eight years her hair had become longer, she had grown taller, more mature, stronger, better. But he was just... Ether. No improvements, no fades, not even a slight discretion. Maybe more scars, but it didn't do anything to hide the fact that his physical appearance was unaltered by time.


She then took note of his special encasement. He wasn't human. It hit her hard. I don't care. She looked around at everyone else, her eyes purposefully skipping over Ether, ignoring his presence entirely. "Then we have to get all our equipment back. They may be outnumbered down here but one floor up I'm sure there's more of them than us, and I don't think any of else are feeling our best right now," she acknowledged, catching eyes with the undead man who had started this nonsense idea. She'd stay in the back, let everyone else get their hands dirty, although she didn't mind barking orders while she made sure she didn't have a broken nail. Leadership had always been a prominent quality of hers. She felt that everyone in this room had the capability of taking it though, especially the one who had first voiced the idea that was now spiraling into something that seemed as if it was truly going to happen. So aside from her comments to make everyone think a little harder she wouldn't try to take control for now. She was intrigued to see how all of this was going to turn out if nothing else.

​

 

[Fluffy-Kat]

Eleniel ignored the woman who spoke as if the elf was going to go at the throat of the "friend maker" infront of her. Course she wasnt going to, she didnt even have the strength to do so, but the assumption pinched her. She scoffed through her nose and refrained from any other comment making. "Yeah...well....it's not like I have much of a choice given the situation, right she-elf?" the long lived Vampire replied to her. He had a point, the only people he could 'make friends' with are those trapped with him. The light elf turned her head to the side, facing the bars of the cell once again, away from the vampire trapped in Light,"Then dont bother make any..." she mumbled, purposely speaking in a low voice. It was sort of her way of telling him to skip over her on the 'making friends' list. To her there was no point anyway. Either this group was going to meet their ends soon enough or escape. And when (if) they escape, everyone would go their own way....at least thats what she thinks. Regardless, Eleniel wasnt great when it came to making friends. In her early centuries, she learned that making friends with people who dont live as long as she does, was useless and only resulted in heart break. Despite her icy-ness, she did fall in love, more than once, and she cursed herself for it. Her loved ones didnt live as long as her and as a result of mortal relationships, Eleniel had given up on her social life, her heart turning cold. Now, shes used to being alone, she doesnt mind it at all, it keeps her from further heart break at least, and attachments that would just slow her down or distract her. It was better that way, that was her belief now. She went by her own rules, traveled on her own time, not having to wait on someone else's approval. She did what she wanted, and she wanted it to stay that way. In the past she purposely pushed others away, now it was.... just second nature.


Beside them, another prisoner had woken up. Carrying the same face everyone else did when initially awakening: confusion. She started to speak, and repeated what the undead man had originally suggested. Guess this was the plan they were going for, ambush. But how many of their captors were there? Less than the 12 in the cell? Were there more? Could they stand against them if it came down to it? With unknown enemies it was hard to strategize, and that was always Eleniel's first plan of action. She wasnt strong, she cant bulldoze her way through a situation like some. And order was always necessary, she didnt favor charging in carelessly. But with out her bow she cant exactly linger in the back and cover. So then, step one, take down loose stragglers. That is, if this was the plan. But there was internal conflict. She didnt want to hang around and wait for them. If she works with them then she has to watch out for them. But at this point, she didnt have much of a choice. So step one it is.


The girl that had originally gave Eleniel her two cents spoke up once again, the elf's pouty lips frowning at the corners at the sound of the girl's voice. She wanted to take the lead it seemed. Great. The petite elf drew in breath,'She talks too much,' she thought, drawing her legs into her, preparing herself to stand from the floor. She raised into a squat, picking up her mask, then straightened her legs to a full stand. A rush of blood sent her head spinning for a few seconds. Holding the mask in one hand at her side, the other gathered the long hair that was tucked between her cloak and her back. She raised it up and out from being hidden, the ends of her silky wisps falling and reaching her bum. She shook some hair out of her face and leaned on one side of hip, putting her now free hand on her tight-armored waist,"Remind me to ask you if I ever need the obvious stated," she spoke bluntly. Eleniel turned away and walked up to the bars, staying hopeful that someone would come and get them now. The sooner they could get out, the better. "Does anybody recall the last time they had fed us? Was anyone even awake?" She asked aloud, mumbling the last question, her azure eyes glinting in the dim lighting while she inspected the bars, her back still facing the group. She wrapped a small hand around one of the bars, trying to get a feel of how sturdy it was. A disappointing sigh left her pink lips as she turned and leaned her back on the bars. She tilted her head down slightly with her arms crossed,"The question is, when will the others awaken? We cant exactly form a coup if we dont have the numbers we should have." she raised her head,"And if the scheduled feeding time is coming upon us soon...they need to get up," her voice was as silky as her hair, like a cup of tea at the perfect temperature: warm and smooth, with a hint of a light sweetness. There was never much emotion in the female's voice, unless when annoyed. It typically remains calm and stagnant.


@shadowz1995 @McMajestic


Mentioned: everyone else

 

[shadowz1995]

Jezebel scowled in the dim lighting but quickly recovered. She looked over at Ether. That was him. "

You're the only person I intend to make miserable," she said, her words calculated and gently scarring. She knew at that moment, as the words rolled off her tongue, that the slight question in his voice would be answered. He wanted to know if it was truly her it seemed, the same girl who'd ran away from him. Jezebel had no qualms with letting him know exactly who he was dealing with. In fact, she wanted him to know all the suffering she had planned for him in the last eight years. She had only grown stronger since that time, after all. There had been a time where she couldn't beat him, but now she had an overwhelming confidence that she could. That she could destroy him.


Her hand reached out once more, and she looked at what little water she had left. "They'll have to be killed in the ambush, and it will have to be quick and silent." She looked around at everyone, beginning to notice distinct features as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. She took in Ether, who looked strikingly similar to the last time she had seen him. How odd was that? In eight years he still looked the exact same. In her eight years her hair had become longer, she had grown taller, more mature, stronger, better. But he was just... Ether. No improvements, no fades, not even a slight discretion. Maybe more scars, but it didn't do anything to hide the fact that his physical appearance was unaltered by time.


She then took note of his special encasement. He wasn't human. It hit her hard. I don't care. She looked around at everyone else, her eyes purposefully skipping over Ether, ignoring his presence entirely. "Then we have to get all our equipment back. They may be outnumbered down here but one floor up I'm sure there's more of them than us, and I don't think any of else are feeling our best right now," she acknowledged, catching eyes with the undead man who had started this nonsense idea. She'd stay in the back, let everyone else get their hands dirty, although she didn't mind barking orders while she made sure she didn't have a broken nail. Leadership had always been a prominent quality of hers. She felt that everyone in this room had the capability of taking it though, especially the one who had first voiced the idea that was now spiraling into something that seemed as if it was truly going to happen. So aside from her comments to make everyone think a little harder she wouldn't try to take control for now. She was intrigued to see how all of this was going to turn out if nothing else.

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@shadowz1995[/URL] @McMajestic


Mentioned: everyone else


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"Bell? Seven hells it's actually you. Haha! I can't believe it. What kind of trouble did you get yourself into that you landed here? Well, actually on second thought, I don't wanna know. Might get me in even deeper shi-" Before Ether could even finish the sentence, the barrier felt as if it had been amplified several times over and a pained groan left the blood mage's lungs. The playful look in the vampire's eyes had been quickly replaced with spite and wrath. Ether felt as if he had been set ablaze, flogged, and viciously electrocuted all at once and that just brought out blood mage's truer appearance. His canines elongated and his eyes began to emit their own malicious crimson light. His voice went from its usual witty demeanor into a more guttural baritone. Apparently, the cultists upstairs noticed Ether's movements and decided to dial up the intensity of the holy barrier. The pressure and pain brought the elder down to his hands and knees, spitting out curses in several languages.


Ether raised his head through the pain and anyone could see it was contorted with anguish and rage. "BASTARDS!!! I swear I'll have every last disgusting drop of blood in your pathetic mortal bodies! Rrrgh!" This went on for several minutes until he became accustomed to the new pressure the cultists had brought upon him. A desperate, half-crazed look was pointed in the old she-elf's direction as he responded to her initial question, granted with much less calm then before, "We've been down here for about two days and two nights. They couldn't knock me unconscious so they sealed me and transported me down here. I was the second one here followed by the zombie over there. She-elf I don't need to tell you how badly an elder vampire craves blood after a few days of torture! Get me out of this damn light field and I'll have us out much faster than simply wasting away in here until they decide to feed us. They haven't fed us since we got here WHY would they feed us now?!" Ether then turned his gaze to Jezebel and it softened for a moment before he couldn't hold her cold gaze any longer. "Now do you see why I said you were too young. I'm 683....I think. Give or take a few years. You were only a kid....you basically still are to me. I don't need your forgiveness but I did raise you to understand the situation. We can talk and fight all you want afterwards but right now, someone needs to get me out of this DAMNED BARRIER!"

 

[McMajestic]

Jezebel was about to respond to the girl who spoke with such a sarcastic tongue, when Ether actually addressed her, nickname and all. She stared him down, smiling as the barrier around him intensified.

What a beautiful thing to wake up to, she thought, watching as he writhed in utter agony. Her smile faltered however, when she saw the canines, the glowing eyes, heard his thirst for blood. Her body went rigid as she listened to his pained yells. If she was still a foolish girl she'd do everything she could to help him, she'd cry and wail for her love and demand to trade places with him, but she was no longer that person, that naive little girl who had been stupid enough to utter the truth and be rejected without even an honest explanation as to why.


"You're a vampire," she whispered. All at once the water in her pouch shot out and raced forward in a straight line, hardening into ice at the last minute and breaking off the chain around her ankle. She maneuvered the water back into her pouch, stepping towards the creature. She felt weak, exhausted, drained, but she was far too enraged to care. "You lied to me for five years of my life." She crouched low so they would be eye level with each other. "You led me on and didn't even bother to tell me the monster you are. You destroyed my heart and yet you're the one who's in pain now." A smirk crept over her lips. "How badly could you use some water to soothe the searing agony of this holy magic?" She stood back to her feet. "I could help release you from this horrible suffering so in a way your pain is in my hands. Do you know how satisfying that is?" She grinned down at him triumphantly. "And look at this, I'm doing exactly as you taught me. Enjoying the suffering without actually being a part of it. I hope you rot in that holy magic before somebody breaks you out of it," she sneered, turning away from him.


As she did she felt a spark in her heart, and that naive little girl threatened to suffocate her, to force her to help the vampire she was still quite in love with, but she walked away from him, towards the back of the cell, and merely watched him suffer, a wide grin on her face. Although it held no true joy because as much as she loved other's misery, she hated her own and looking at the man who had raised her, who had held her when she cried and taught her everything she needed to know, to see him in such agony and to allow it felt like utter betrayal, and it made her miserable to think she was betraying someone she cared about.

@shadowz1995


@EveryoneElse

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[Anaxileah]

Addressed: @HoneyBear-Kat and the Addressed


Status: Cold/Can't Move/In Pain


Mood: Irritated/Blank


Location: Heroes' Cell


Inventory: Ragged Clothing


Notes: Sheeeee's not happy rn. Normally she's nice. Rn y'all need to stfu and think of a plan tho.

Wylloh groaned softly, blinking slowly and opening her eyes to the dim setting around her. She could smell rotting flesh as if it was right in front of her - the scent itself almost masked the scents of the wolf-elf and the blood on almost every other person present in the cell, as well as her own. She had been placed in the very corner of the cell on the ground and sat up slowly, holding her head with her bare hand in an attempt to keep it from spinning. She could smell the diversity of the room, but the visuals were quite interesting as well. A rotting man, a vampire who made his identity quite known as she roused from unconsciousness, an elf or more, although she wasn't sure if there were multiple snarky elves or if her head was making her see double - no, triple. How exactly...did I get here? The reptile hybrid thought to herself with another groan, pain resonating through her skull.


Before she could remotely begin to think about how she got in the cell, the bickering of the others in the cell were beginning to irritate the female, simply because of the situation - as another cellmate had mentioned, none of them had eaten or been given water in approximately two days, the conditions of the cell made it difficult for her to move, due to the low temperature, and even though her hearing is shit, she could still hear the bickering between a child and a pissed off bloodsucker. I really do not want to deal with this... Wylloh thought as the emotions swirled around in her heavy head. Anger towards the Cultists, irritation towards the others in the cell, and overall pain. After several moments longer, particularly the moments where the angry female took out her frustration on the vampire trapped in a field of light of some sort or whatever, Wylloh was able to stand and speak to the group, silencing her emotions at the same time.


"You lot...enough. You don't need to behave like children. You can deal with your emotions later. For now, the corpse I believe had an idea of what to do, if I am not mistaken. Something about ambushing whomever comes to greet us, whether it be for sustenance or for collection. Quit using up energy on a temper tantrum and focus on preparing to escape." Wylloh finished, her bright blue-green eyes focused on the female. She then directed her gaze towards the rotting corpse of a man and spoke once more, staying completely still - to the point where she didn't even appear to be breathing. Green blood crusted around her forehead and had dried along her right cheek, but she paid no mind to it as she stared at the repulsive male. "Some of the people in here are still unconscious and/or cannot move. If we are to overcome anyone entering the cell, it will have to be the ones who can move, such as yourself, the whining child, and perhaps the sarcastic elf with the silver hair. Otherwise, find out who can and can't move. I for one, cannot, as these conditions are harmful to someone with my...condition. Find a solution." Wylloh spoke with an emotionless expression on her pale face, her gaze unblinking as she moved her eyes around the room.

 

[AnimusLight]

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  _Tagging_
  
  
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• When you can't tell what you did on the post while on mobile- WHYYTY
• Music

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Al stares at each soul waking up from their slumber in the cell. Each one has a fascinating personality that distugishes them in the dark. The need to greet each of them excites the half avariel that it almost forgets about its loudly grumbling stomach.


Al frowns when the comical guy doesn't allow it to explain its game of hide-and-seek with orcs. It does blame the rather grouchy elf lady who might have a stick up her ass but that's fine, it guesses. The comical man seems to be the type who'd have fun with games- Al doesn't know but it assumes the guy is friendly. It does like his voice.


Some pompous lady speaks up only to talk about spilling blood specifically on one side. Al tilts its head wondering how will that happen. It could try to air push any incoming blood when the shitty man decides to do his plan. Would the lady sound less like she's ready to shove sticks up the ass? Maybe she's the one who shoved the stick up the elf lady's ass?


Al listens to the comical guy rant about his imprisionment. So... maybe he's not too friendly? - Now that it thinks about imprisionment... how long has it been here?The half avariel tunes out everyone's chatter as it tries to remember the past two days with a hungry stomach. Al doesn't keep track of time, other than day or night.


Angry yelling jolts Al out of its thoughts, startled by the comical man showing more aggression. Okay... a vampire as well as not friendly. Al sighs, scooting itself away from the vampire bickering with the shoving stick lady and stays near the peaceful music guy. It blankly stares at the remaining people asleep. One stirs, a pretty lady with green- a lot of green. It's slightly mesmerizing.


The green lady seems pissed and scowls the vampire and- child? Is the stick-shoving lady a child? Al narrows its eyes before understanding it to be a metaphor- or mocking description.


Al blocks the voices again, fiddling with its rags. It feels light enough, which it prefers; it can attack whenever, mostly fueled by the need to find food. Al clutches its stomach when it growls obnoxiously loud once more.

 

[Fluffy-Kat]

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Eleniel perked up at the sound of the vampire's pain. She pushed herself off the bars and watched him for a moment longer. Watching the darkness that shrouded him flicker and struggle like static. It looked painful, and seemed as though it felt the very thing she was feeling, but on a much larger scale. She watched him, his transformation beginning to take place. The light from his barriers surged with power, a power she found comforting, but that wasnt the case for him. It was slowly torturing him. She was almost tempted to stand near him, just to feel the warmth of the Light and absorb it to let it rejuvenate her. The vampire's inscisors grew and his whole demeanor screamed 'blood lust'. His lack of nutrients beginning to force him to reduce to the animalistic nature of his species. Sure enough he expressed his need of blood to herself then proceeded to talk to the young girl. This girl who seemed to have known him during an important period in her life. A reunion? No. The girl didnt seem like thats what she would call the situation. Eleniel sighed,"I could easily pass in and out of that barrier, but there isnt much I can do for you," she admitted. She paused, trying to think. She cant exactly manipulate light that didnt come from her. She could try standing near, to see if her own Light would absorb it, and then perhaps weaken it enough for him to break through. But even she wasnt sure if it would work. "The only thing I could think of...," she walked over to the barrier, nearing him and placing a hand on the light. It felt inviting, and her own began to sync with it almost immediately. She could feel her own battery beginning to recharge,"Is having a strong dark force concentrated into its weak spot," her small hand ran her slender fingers along the barrier wall. Feeling and assessing, where the weakest point was. She went all the way around and stoppes at his left side,"There," she stopped, holding two fingers at the spot she determined was the weakest. "Think of a nail hammered into the weak spot of wood. With enough force the wood splits," she tried explaining further.


She could see the pulses of light flowing over the surface of the barrier every few seconds, and she could see the weakest spot, as well as feel its thin density compared to the rest of the surface area. Eleniel looked at the dark being through the barrier. Her eyes narrowed and suddenly the fire that was the source of her own light began to grow. Why was she helping him? She couldnt help but wonder. Perhaps her weakened state had left her soft. The lef retracted her hand and turned,"But i cant help you there..." she said coldly, returning to her spot against the bars with out another care. Her long silver locks swishing with every hip swayed step. When she reached the bars, she stopped, looking back into the corridor, trying to catch a glimpse of wither way. Left or right, she couldnt see very far, but she could feel movement above them. Her Light was sensing their life forces moving about.


@shadowz1995


Mentioned: @McMajestic

 

[Morgrim]

Morgrim had to endure all the bickering of the people around him, at least the unconscious ones were quiet. The elves were the absolute worst of the bunch. "If you could all shut up for a moment, and work together we may actually get out of this alive, the green haired girl is correct." He would have to strategize a plan, and quite honestly Morgrim may not be able to be a useful part of the fight. The cell was small for twelve people, and they would no doubt be clumped together when the cultist came in to retrieve them. Everything in Morgrim's kit was designed to do as much damage in an area around him, and thus he'd risk injuring or poisoning one of the others. That all together would ruin their effectiveness, and he couldn't have that.


"Okay, here is what we are going to do, we are going to fashion any sort of weapons we can. We are all weak right now, and we can't rely on our magic so grab any chains or bones and anything solid. Whoever is the strongest should hide beside the door and grab hold of the faceless bastard that walks in here so the rest of us can take them down. This is the plan we are going with, and if you don't all screw it up we should be able to get out of here alive." Morgrim would take his position along the back line of the group He was able to find a bone from a previous adventurer and did his best to sharpen the edge against the wall until he had a useful looking shiv. Not five minutes later was it then that a cultist had appeared. They said nothing, but they walked in where they would find Morgrim and the others in position and armed with whatever they had grabbed in that time.


Morgrim's undead constitution gave him the confidence to attack first and sustain the least amount of damage since he couldn't feel pain. The cultist was actually caught off guard by this and tried to run back so they could get reinforcements, but the bone shiv Morgrim had went right into the back of their leg impairing their movement. "Come on, strike them down now, for our freedom!"

 

[CarpeNoctem1213]

Darrius sits quietly with an arm propped up on his knee and watches the others bicker among themselves. He doesn't even bother trying to interject, because the vampire and the girl seem to have some bad blood they obviously need to work out, and the elf with the tree up her ass seems too intent on tormenting the vampire. This goes on for a few minutes before the girl with the green hair piped up, clearly irritated at the others, leaving the corpse-man open to explain his plan.


Darrius stands now, his body protesting with more pains, and picks up a set of shackles that hang loosely around pale white bones. He pulls the bones out and tugs at the shackles to test their strength, allowing himself a small smirk when they hold up to the pressure. He looks up, the dim light glinting in his black eyes. "I'll get the door, you guys try to get 'em before we get blasted," he says, moving to stand beside the cell door.


After about five minutes, the door to the cell opens and a cultist steps through, their face entirely hidden by the same mask that was worn by the three that had abducted Darrius. He grits his teeth and prepares to strike, but the corpse attacks first, driving a hastily sharpened bone into the figure's leg and giving Darrius an opening to wrap the chain in his hands around the cultist's throat, jerking it back with all his strength and cutting off their air supply.

Tag:

@Anaxileah @Morgrim Mood: Determined Location: Cultist Cell Music Equipment

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[Federoff]

Daecante

Daecante sat back and listened to the rest of his cellmates argue and bicker back and forth, strumming away at his guitar and producing light background music that contrasted both the setting, and all the arguing. Confusion, anger, disbelief, a whole spectrum of negativity coming from everyone in the cell; and he listened in to every single thing without so much a glance at them. He was a bard, trained and tested against hundreds of years of cutthroat politics that have been rooted into history for as long as he could remember. With the nobles he had learned to be able to listen while being detached, allowing himself to hide behind an additional mask that was hard to know was there and harder still to tear through.


After an undetermined amount of time, by his estimate no longer then ten minutes, the previous foul-scented man that had first suggested the plan spoke up again, in an irked tone, and commanded them to try and get whatever weapon they could in their hands before hiding and waiting to spring their trap. At that moment Daecante silenced the strings on his guitar with a single hand and nodded, "The show begins ah?" the bard replied jokingly before he himself hid under the cover of darkness; awaiting to spring their trap.


Not long after they hid one of the cultists had stepped through, why he did not know but now was their chance, and their trapped was sprung. Morgrim took his bone shiv, which Daecante approved of because bones, and lunged at the figures leg; driving it deep into his leg. His fellow demon, Darrius, had taken advantage of the situation and used his brute strength to begin choking the unknowing figure. And then it was Daecante's turn. He sprung up with a smile on his face, "Wfreruwy" he proclaimed with an edge of humor in his voice as he swung his bone guitar down on the man's skull; the sound of a painful whack followed by the sounds of cracking as his skull was fractured by the blow; a week gasp escaping his lungs with an attempt at a cry of pain; silenced by the man choking him. The body went limp in his chains...





Daecante's smile remained on his face as he picked up some of the cloth the man, or woman, had been wearing and whipped off the small amount of blood covering the guitar before slinging it on his shoulder and chuckling lightly, "And that, my friends, is why you never mess with a bard" he joked before turning back to the rest of the group, "How about a nice brunch after we escape, I'm thinking a nice chili with some pork or beef, my treat" Daecante chuckled, soon they would be free if, everything went according to plan. "Now can everyone walk fine by themselves? If anyone needs help feel free to ask" the demon man replied in a more serious, yet still lax, tone of voice as his eyes scanned the group one last time from behind his mask.

Spoiler

@HoneyBear-Kat), Al (

@AnimusLight), Jezebel (@McMajestic), Ether (@shadowz1995),
People that still need to post: (@Akio ), (@Ashaficent )


Theme: Gerudo Valley- LoZ


[media]

[/media]

 

[shadowz1995]

The vampire's ire rose further and further as his pseudo-daughter openly mocked him when he was in need. "If that's how you're going to be then so be it. But don't think this is over Jezebel Malus." His voice practically dripped with malice and it was a threat that he intended to make good on. His daughter had apparently forgotten exactly how powerful he was, and how much he had been holding back while he trained her. No matter how much better she got, she wasn't going to trump 600 years of experience. Not with his own style that he taught her. Ether said nothing further on the subject and his eyes left her person. He was intent on not looking upon her anymore. Not with the overwhelming wrath threatening to take him over.


As the ancient elf of light offered her advice, Ether merely watched her and gave a grave nod as she pointed out the weak spot in the barrier of light. It was subtle but the power of the barrier seemed to fuel her. He could see a bit of life return to her pale cheeks. So she was an ancient light elf. Ether had originally thought that they had gone completely extinct but it seemed a few remained. That was a comforting thought. They were incredibly prejudiced but they were a band of decent hearted folk.


The undead mage in the corner chimed up once again, formulating his....ridiculously simple battle strategy. Have the strongest guy hold him down and rush them. It was ridiculously simplistic and what was even more shocking was that it worked. Flawlessly in fact. Not a single thing went wrong with that idea and that was mind boggling to say the least. Did the cultists honestly not see this coming? Maybe they weren't as well-organized as Ether originally thought. Regardless, the faceless cultist that opened the gate was rushed down, impaled, strangled, and bludgeoned in a matter of seconds while the elder vampire remained immobile. The weak spot of the barrier was still well within his mind but the power completely sapped his power. He couldn't do anything with that weak point even if he tried. So when the bard asked if anyone wanted help, the sarcastic tone returned to Ether's voice, "Oh no. Not at all buddy. I love being contained within agonizing light barriers in dingy dungeons surrounded by people I don't know that would sooner see me dead than healthy. This is honestly just the best!.........DO I NEED TO ASK?!" He exclaimed with a laugh in his voice. The laugh was pained but at least his humor was back.


@HoneyBear-Kat @McMajestic @Anaxileah @CarpeNoctem1213 @Javax @remembervvinter

 

[Morgrim]

Things were going off far better then they should, it would seem that the cultist before them was just a prawn. Nothing more then some weakling at the bottom of the food chain sent to do the dirty work of collecting the champions. The idiot even had the keys on them, and with the vow of silence they would have been killed for screaming either way. Next up was for the second phase of the plan and that was a disguise, and with one sitting right before them this would be quite easy, the plan though was to find the best fit. Morgrim would have preferred to be the one in disguise but he knew his smell would give him away, and the next best fit would have to be the demon bard. His height and physique was nearly identical. That's when Morgrim began to pull off the robes from the cultist started with the mask only to find that the person who Morgrim had assumed was human beneath was actually voice of all features. The skin was pale and grey, but there were no eyes, no mouth, and not a single hair. It was like looking at a mannequin. "Fucking creepy." Well it's your time to shine bard, put on the robes, we're going to be your 'prisoners'."


Still though he couldn't ignore the vampire in the barrier. While Morgrim's only combat based dark ability was detonate dead his year in the eldergloom college taught him how to handle dark elements, so breaking through that barrier couldn't prove to be too hard as long as it was controlled by a few of the weaker cultists. Morgrim hadn't let go of that bone shiv, and he cast a wisp of dark energy over it and applied pressure to the weak spot. Bones were thankfully easily able to carry dark elements, in fact each part of a creatures body responds to elements different. Breath is wind, bone is dark, blood is fire, etc. So casting darkness over the bone made it just that much more efficient at cutting through the light of the barrier. It crackled and spark threatening to snap and burst before all the light flickered and disappeared.


"You're free vampire, but for now try to keep your needs in check. If you do find yourself thirsty you wouldn't find me a very good choice, I'd suggest saving Sugar Blood for later." Morgrim said while tilting his head toward the light elf. (I told you I would call her that.) Now let's all get out of here, we have no time to lose, and I don't think we'll find any food here given the nature of that cultist." It was a valid point considering they had no way to take in food or water as far as he could tell. If anything the champions hungry bellies should spur them on to push all that harder for freedom, food and revenge.

 

[McMajestic]

Jezebel had been stunned into silence by the green-haired girl.

Child? That had been the very thing she had been trying to not be. She wasn't a child. She didn't want to be thought of as a child. She felt anger lap at her but forced herself to hold it down. She could stay calm, or if not, perfectly still. Any sudden movement and she might just attack, although with her lack of strength she doubted she could win. Humans were scarce in this bunch and that already put her at a disadvantage. She decided to keep herself at bay, if only for her own safety and stayed pressed against the wall as she struggled to hear anything. Although the world had become a muffled blur. She just couldn't get over it. She thinks I'm childish? The thought echoed in her head, over and over until she thought she would go mad. Even Ether's words were lost on her. She heard him say her name but not much else as she stood there.


But then the cultist came down, and snapped her out of her slow trickle into insanity as she watched three men work to take him down. She needed a weapon, but water had always been her weapon. She didn't know how to fight without it. It maneuvered for her, was an extension of herself. She had grown with the magic and the weapon. But a blunt object? She looked around, noticing an abundance of bones that riddled the ground, and scrunched her face up in disgust. She hated getting her hands dirty, and she most definitely hated the thought of picking up bones. Her eyes closed for a moment and she took a deep breath, before shaking her head. They were free now. All she had to do was find her hilt and then water would be easy. She had learned how to pull it from the ground. It tended to drain a lot of energy, but if she had some sort of offensive weapon it didn't matter if she was ready to pass out. She could at least do something to protect herself before she did.


Jezebel looked towards the undead man as he spoke of them being prisoners to the bard. She supposed this plan could work nicely. She just reminded herself to stay in the background, out of blood splattering range, in case the... creatures who ran this cult happened to bleed. She watched in disdain as the rotting man freed Ether, sighing to herself but not bothering to argue. There had been a part of her that had wanted to help him anyways, so she found no reason to let it bother her. Although she had to admit she was a bit wary of what he would do now free. He was obviously hungry and if she had angered him she could be his appetizer. She made a point to look forward, towards the bars that confined them, towards the opening to their freedom. Hopefully she'd be out in the sunlight soon, and then she could get as far away from him and all these strange people as possible.

​

 

[Javax]

Health: 22%

Status: Injured | Famished | Dehydrated

✘

Tagged: @HoneyBear-Kat | @shadowz1995 | @McMajestic | @Anaxileah | @Morgrim | @CarpeNoctem1213 | @Federoff | @AnimusLight


Mentioned: Elenial | Ether | Jezebel | Wylloh | Morgrim | Darrius | Daecante

Mood: Irritated


Location: Cultist Dungeon: Heroes' Cell Storage Room

☣

Outfit: [sanguine Isle-issued miner's clothing] [Assassin's clothing]





Equipment:



http://tinyurl.com/qdenxa8Bow

http://tinyurl.com/qdenxa8 and

http://tinyurl.com/zm2jhcparrows

http://tinyurl.com/zm2jhcp




Dual

http://tinyurl.com/grajc9mdaggers

http://tinyurl.com/grajc9m

∞

Notes: I hope this is okay... .-.


[CHARACTER SHEET]

A few of the others began to stir as they regained consciousness or noticed that there were others to speak to, now. Almost immediately, bickering began between a few of the other prisoners. The elf who practically radiated light spoke in response to the one who smelled of blood and death—a vampire, a most likely—, and her tone was far from friendly. The blind assassin didn't blame her; a dungeon in which you were one of the prisoners was no place for formalities nor kindness. Waking up in a relatively unknown location with little to no recollection as to how you arrived there nor who brought you there usually did that to a person.


The wolf-elf crinkled her nose in disgust towards the vampire; of course there'd be a blood-sucker here. If the cultists imprisoned a lycanthropic being, then they just had to throw one of the lycanthrope's most hated enemies into the same room as them. Entertainment purposes? To see which one would survive in a battle of fury and hereditary hatred that flowed through their veins? That seemed stupid and useless, especially since she and the vampire were in terrible physical states. It wouldn't be much of a battle.


Roxii drowned out rising bickering between the blood-sucker, the light elf, and the one named "Jezebel" by focusing on the situation at hand. She was in a cramped cell with eleven other strangers, each of them in differing conditions that ranged from bad to terrible to the worst. According to the vampire, they were all trapped down here for an even two days. From what she could tell, none of them had any of their weapons or gear. So, unfortunately, the cultists weren't ridiculously stupid. Perhaps they still held some sort of stupidity? They had refused to give them any sort of food or water for the entirety of their stay, so they were making sure they were weak and desperate. The cultists probably planned to make them do whatever they wanted in exchange for what the prisoners needed to survive. No one here seemed to want to die, yet, so that seemed like a reasonable plan. The assassin had taught herself how to go extended periods of time with food, water, or rest with little effect to her abilities, but the lack of food and water combined with the torture she received from Sanguine Isle just a couple days ago was enough to make her reconsider her theoretical decisions if put in said theoretical situation.


The wolf hybrid was broken out of her thoughts momentarily as one of the other's voices rose above the irritating bickering, calling everyone's attention to the important topic. She could smell reptilian emanating from her; a reptilian hybrid? The rogue hadn't encountered many of those. Roxii listened as the other hybrid began trying to progress their plan. Then the one who smelled like sewage spoke up again finally, successfully silencing off the side conversations. He established the group's plan of action. It was really simple. Almost too simple. Then again, elaborate plans weren't exactly accessible at the moment, especially with their limited supplies and energy.


The rogue flicked her ears as she listened to some of the others get up and begin getting into an offensive position. If she were to help out and get out of this horrid place, she'd need to stand up and actually do something. Which meant healing herself a bit. Fortunately, the bard's odd tune had some sort of healing or restoration properties imbued within its resonating melodies. It wasn't the first time she'd come across a magical bard, so when she began feeling some of her energy begin restoring itself to her when the music began playing, she knew what was occurring. But the wounds on her back were still fresh and, if they opened up again, she'd easily bleed out within moments. So the blind hybrid tapped into her magic and began working on her wounds. Mending the skin back together was never a difficult task, so it didn't take much energy—making the wound mend without a scar was what was difficult. Roxii could spare a few more visible scars on her body, though.


Once she finished completely closing the injuries caused by the whip, the wolf-elf rolled her shoulders to test the pain that would accompany the action. Her back throbbed, but the sharp pains weren't as unbearable. The assassin placed a hand on the wall behind and used it to steady herself as she pushed herself up on wobbly legs. Even if she did heal the most severe wounds and the suspicious bard's music restored some of her energy, Roxii's body was still battling the the deadly effects of lack of nutrients and sustenance. Her legs shook as she put her weight on them, so she kept a hand on the wall to lessen the load. Pain still ravaged her body, but it wasn't as severe as it was a few moments ago.


The elven hybrid then heard footsteps walking down the hall outside, approaching their cell. Only one set of footsteps. One of the cultists was coming to check in on their prisoners. It didn't matter what their intentions were once they arrived, because the moment they unlocked the cell door the battle had begun. Spooked, the cultist turned and tried to escape, but one of the strangers incapacitated him and two others finished the job. Roxii sent out a small pulse. The cultist was definitely dead. A self-made shiv was sticking out of his leg, and his skull was misshapen, no doubt from the impact of whatever blunt object had struck him once he was down.


It took a moment for the blind rogue to gather her strength and push herself up entirely, her entire weight resting on her weak legs. She swayed for a moment, but then she was walking, walking towards the doorway. The wolf-elf silently pushed her way past the ones who attacked the cultist—the walking corpse, the suspicious bard, and the demon—and stood in the hallway. She knit her brows together and pursed her lips. The dungeon was definitely not a maze, so that was a relief. The assassin continued down the hallway, her ears swiveling on her head as she listened for other cultists.


The Lythari stopped before a doorway. According to her energy pulse, there was an abundance of belongings in the room before her. A storage room, most likely; one that held all of the prisoner's belongings. Did the faceless men retrieve her stuff from Sanguine Isle? Roxii placed a hand on the door handle and attempted to open it but found it to be locked. After a moment of contemplation, the wolf-elf decided to sacrifice some of her energy. "Mevi," she whispered in an ancient tongue. The darkness around her seemed to move with an unnerving fluidity, as if it were alive, and it looked as though the wolf hybrid was leeching off of the shadows. A small layer of translucent darkness seemed to cover the assassin, and, within a millisecond, Roxii was plunged in the familiar parallel realm she dubbed the Shadow Realm.


Now invisible and intangible to the real world, Roxii looked at the wooden door before her that separated her from the her possible belongings. She stepped through the door—which was, fortunately, not too thick for her to traverse—and dropped the shadow magic immediately. The Lythari was plunged back into the familiar darkness of blindness, but she didn't care. Crossing over physical objects was difficult and required a lot of energy, but the wolf-elf deemed it worth it.


Roxii took a moment to recompose herself before sending out multiple small pulses to see if her personal stuff was present. It didn't take her long to find her stuff, along with her usual assassin's clothing. A wry smirk lifted the corner of her lips. Finally. She could get rid of this filthy mining uniform. It didn't take her long to switch outfits. Once she was settled in her familiar assassin's uniform, mask and all, the wolf-elf retrieved her weapons and gear and then opened the door for the others from the inside. One-way locking mechanisms; how quaint.