[Shards of Immortality] The Prologue

[The Dark Wizard]

The Prologue

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(Scene Zero, All Skills, including oranges and greens, are currently unavailable until scene 1 due to having just woken up)

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It has been a long millennia, and the tower sits now in ruins. Harsh years haven’t been so kind to the beacon of your once proud empire. Magical dust storms, filled with glowing magical particles, have caused a great amount of destruction structurally, but the core’s collapse also has built an entirely different environment around the tower. A chasm separates the Tower now from other landmasses, like a ring, but around you a magically infused biome exists. Animals never seen before, and monsters, and other worldly creatures have taken refuge.


You find yourself where you died, however you were handled that is, weakened with your integrity loss. The battle that you now remember to be only seconds ago is long gone, its warriors, now all deceased. You feel a certain emptiness towards your essence, something is lacking, as if a part of you is now gone, amputated from your being.


So you’ve awoken now, possibly not alone, but in the ancient ruins of a powerful place, a powerful place long forgotten...

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The Prologue is a special thread that will explain how everyone awakes from their 1,000 year slumb and finds their way around the Tower to the Great Hall. We would like to remind you that every play must use the posting template.


It is recommended that your first post have two parts, the first part of you r post is your awakening in the location where you died, and the second part of your post will be getting to the Great Hall. This should all be done in one post, and you have to awaken and get yourself out of any situation in case you awakening is a bit complicated. Be creative, you have complete control over the environment around your character, describe how things look ,how things are, and how you managed to get out of your punishment this time.


After Post One, if you get to the Great Hall, you can interact with all other characters that have arrived before Scene 1 begins.

 

[Thorn Darkblade]

----- Valdraccus -----

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-----The Harvester of Souls -----

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----- Location: The Tower Dungeons, Torture Chamber -----


Wake up.


The corpse of a corpse twitched slightly, responding to the long silent voice in his head. The room was dark, and his body was pinned to a wall by a massive scythe. The blood trailing down had long since dried and turned black.


Wake up!


The corpse's fingers flexed slightly, then reached up, grasping the haft of the ceremonial scythe. HIS scythe. Those heathens had impaled him with his own scythe.


WAKE UP, YOU MISERABLE FOOL!!!


He pulled the scythe out, blackened blood spraying, before collapsing on the floor, breathing heavily. The wound in his chest was large, but the blood barely trickled. His heart wasn't even beating. Everything went black again, for a time.


Get up, old man.





A pounding in his head. His shriveled old heart had begun to beat once again, pumping blood through his ancient veins.His eyes flickered open once more, taking in his surroundings. It was dark, but he could make out the room well enough. After all, this was one of his favorites. The torture chamber. Chains still hung from the walls, with skeletons of the dead, their flesh long since rotted away, manacled and caged in the corners. He sighed wistfully, wishing he could hear their screams. Alas, he could not. They would still prove their purpose though...


He focused for a time, on the voice in his head. It was his to command. Or did it command him? Those questions wouldn't do...of course he was in charge. The shadows of the room coalesced into his left hand, into a dark book with a screaming face on the cover, bound in iron chains. His grimoire had returned.


He focused on the skeletons, aiming his scythe, chanting in the ancient tongue that not even he understood. He focused all his might, all his dark energies...


And then nothing happened.


"What? What is this!?"


He slammed his scythe into a wall, but then paused, regaining his composure. It was obvious...he had been out far longer than he had imagined. It hadn't been a mere few days. His powers were still asleep, but they would awaken soon enough. He had his scythe and his grimoire. The grimoire still spoke to him. That was all he needed. He pulled the scythe from the wall, before heading out of the dungeon.


Exploring the Tower for now would be the first bet. Surely the other Generals had left some of their 'toys' behind, and if the Tower could be reactivated, he could start where the Overlord left off. Those other fools, they didn't have a backup plan like he did. They didn't have control over the forces of the Underworld. There was no possible way they could have returned...or could there be a way?


Such questions were irrelevant for now. He sheathed his scythe on his back, before heading out of the dungeon, up to the Great Hall. Much of the fighting had happened there...it would be as good a place as any to start.

 

[Tempest]

----- Tyhria Veliantiel -----

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----- The Shadow Witch -----

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Location: The Battlefield


She awoke with a scream.


Her last memories of death were of a twisting, unending void, filled with voices, pain, solitude, of nightmares, unimaginable horrors, of great pain. And it also carried a certain strange, perverse and terrible joy and mystery to it. Thankfully, death was, to say the least, not boring. But her awakening... Tyhria felt a tug, a pull. She felt herself be ripped from death as an unborn child from her mother's womb.


And she never thought she would get to wake up.


Any outsider would have seen... who knows, maybe a giant mass of shadows descending upon a cross, simple and wooden, kept purely intact by the strange magics of the island, and begin to warp around the skeleton trapped upon it. In any case, Tyhria screamed as each and every wound was painfully felt once again, as if fate itself felt like punishing her for having joined that damned abomination to the world- the Overlord, her Overlord. Slowly her scream became reality, and then she felt her eyes. And she was.


She still felt intense pain, as if that sword were still in her side, slowly draining her life. Somehow, inexplicably her eyes had managed to become reality, yet she kept them shut. All throughout the process, Tyhria had slowly felt parts of herself returning, being bonded back together by a dark magic. And so, she finally took her first breath since the battle. And with that breath, she opened her eyes, and found herself breathless.


Tyhria sat there upon that cross, screaming for perhaps 10 or so minutes, as the pure shock of being alive washed over her, thrashing against her (annoyingly preserved) bonds. Eventually, she managed to calm down enough, just barely, to look over her predicament. What Tyhria found was... strange. The beacon of the Overlord's realm, it was twisted into a surreal landscape. Everything was phosphorescent, alien, tubular... There were trees the size of greater demons, covered with moss and vines. The moss on the ground pulsated a blue-green color, and all around, grass and ferns straight out of the nicer parts of her Void-nightmares covered the land, defying the need for sunlight. Everything had strange glows to them, with swirling clouds of mana jumping about trees and swirling around trunks like they were alive. And then she saw a squirrel. It was white of fur, with several vines around it like a tiny lord, its claws larger than before, and its head and body warped to look less comical and more like a hunter.


And this was just the squirrels. It had seemed that, taking the joke to its farthest, nature had decided to make the Overlord's realm a beautiful and arabesque realm of magical peace. (OOC: Personally, I was imagining something like Pandora from Avatar. Just, not so different creatures.)


Finally, Tyhria looked down and around to look at her own cross, feeling the strain on her arms. Don't be confused, she still felt immense pain, but right now she needed to move. Strangely enough, the cross had survived to become a tree of its own, with a strange flowing motion to its now white bark, having actually twisted to make it where her chest was thrusted out further than her head. Even if the bonds that had held her for... who knows how long had survived, they were now actually loose, partly from her thrashing about, and weren't as preserved as her brain had first perceived. Oh, and her first wounds- her wrists had been chafed up in her awakening, and were slowly bleeding, flowing down the "veins" of the strange cross-tree. Looking herself over, Tyhria found the first order of business- that she was naked, with a few vines entangled about her body and arms to form a sadly immodest dress of sorts. It seems that clothes, well for her, don't regenerate after however long she was dead. The vines had probably grown there because her skeleton was merely in the way. Secondly were all the scars that marred her body, and were even now disappearing, leaving behind her pale skin unmarred, but for one long, jagged gash upon her side- the infernal finishing stab. Slowly, Tyhria shifted her eyes up, and noticed that, thankfully, it was nighttime... and strangely, uncloudy, leaving a beautiful view of the thousands of stars in the sky.


She glanced back down, and got to business. Having been trapped before, three times actually, Tyhria found it easier than before to loosen the knots sufficiently to unleash her, allowing the girl to slide down the trunk of the tree, and onto grass. To feel grass beneath her feet again... to be in a forest once again... The Nymph girl wiggled her toes, to make sure it wasn't all a dream, and felt soft grass beneath her. And she laughed with joy, closing her eyes and smiling up at the stars.


Getting back to business, Tyhria flexed her fingers, wincing in pain as it shot up her arms and down her back, and then she focused. She knew that an immediate task would be to report back to the Tower, as a base of operations to rebuild the empire. But... what would be the use? The Overlord was go- no, no time to think such thoughts. She did remember one command, a spell that would teleport her back to the Tower. So, she squinted her eyes closed, focued her thoughts and powers, thinking of the words, whispering them out... and, annoyingly, nothing happened. Why was nothing happening? She was in the middle of a magic seeped island!


Perhaps... perhaps the... yeah, I guess it's been more than a few years if a whole forest grew up. Crap. She breathed in deeply, and looked around, before finding 4 things left... her mementos and her knife. Somehow, inexplicably, they were all at the bottom of the cross. Not sure how. Tyhria slowly, carefully picked up her brother's ring and re-put it around her neck, letting it hang at the sternum, and held her claw, wrapping it with the leather designating her affiliation with the Half Orc tribes. The knife, she kept at her side with a few vines. And then she began her journey through the forest. Strangely enough, the cross had for some reason been left in what grew up to be a glade... and that forest... Wait, why am I scared? It's a freaking forest! I've spent 35 years living in one! Tyhria took off in a run- no, hold that, pain returning... ok, now she took off in a run. She ran through the branches, appearing like the Fae of old to any who would have seen her, skipping and flitting about like one at home with the outdoors. Even if it was a magically imbued place, it didn't change how a forest works- Tyhria could use sound still to know where potential predators were, walk on animal paths, smell streams by the strong flowers that would grown near them, ec cetera. In this way, she managed to reach the base of the Tower in about, say, 3 hours. Knowing where it was in regard to where she had died helped tremendously.


As she ran up to the base of the Tower... uh, where was the Tower? There was just this... husk, a battered, ruined thing that had collapsed at around 10 stories up (it was a large building, the Tower), with bits the size of boulders strewn about the place, vines and even trees growing upon its side... There was no Tower. There was just a natural monument, formerly the Tower but now a part of nature.


How long have I been gone?


Even with these doubts, the massive entrance to the Tower was still in existence. Looking around, she saw no other Generals around her... so, the girl walked in, going to the one place where everyone would probably meet- the grand meeting hall where they had all shared food, drink, song, and stories. The Great Hall.

 

[Grey]

----- Mordechai Selanmere -----

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-----Father of Monsters -----

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----- Location: Tower Base, The Kennels -----


It's the hissing that wakes him. The sudden sensation; of sound, of the wind. The heat and hints of light after eternity of cold and darkness.


Mordechai's eyes flicker open. He's staring at worn, dusty flagstones, the scent of decay and raw magic in his nostrils.


With an effort of will, he forces himself to sit. His clothes are ragged, his flesh weak and wasted, and his eyes fill with tears as he beholds the Kennels.


"How... how could they? HOW!?" He roared, stumbling to his feet. Sandy winds whip through the shattered wall, and the old stones of the tower litter the floor. Worse, bones litter the floor. Skeletons lie in heaps, in the cells and beds where they slept in life.


His children. Dead, all of them. Every last one.


Tears trailing down his cheeks, Mordechai moves as if sleepwalking between the kennels. Archelba, pierced by a spear and left to rot against the wall, her beautiful plumage long since decayed to dust.


Lachesis, nothing more than a crushed exoskeleton, his tail snapped off and taken as a trophy.


Eve... Where was Eve?


And that jogs a memory... the hissing...


Slowly, he turns, and his gaze falls upon Ziel. The iridescent serpent eyes him warily, rising from its coiled sleep to tower over him.


"Ziel... you still live. Of course you do. Come here. Come to father!"


The serpent hisses again, virulent toxins dripping from its fangs to sizzle on the stones.


"Ziel, it's me. You must know your father. Come!"


The monster strikes, and it is purely by instinct rather than thought that Mordechai throws himself aside, to safety behind the empty, armoured shell of his prized Megaturtle.


"He was going to... To eat me. He..." Shock is beginning to settle in, robbing him of his strength, fraying his mind.


The Hall. If anyone still lives, they'll be in the hall. Fates be kind.


Peering from behind his cover, he sees Ziel swaying, glaring at the shell. He never did like things faster than him.


I can do this. I made him.


Mordechai steels himself, and with what flagging strength he has, rolls the shell aside, towards the gaping hole in the tower. As Ziel strikes, he runs the other way.


He watches as the serpent buries its fangs in the shell, then tries to shake it loose. He closes the portcullis to the Kennel; then the heavy iron-banded door. Safe now, perhaps. For a brief time.


Prepared for the worst, fearful of what he might find, Mordechai begins the ascent to the Great Hall.

 

[Incendius]

----- Er'Akor Tokine -----

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----- The Supernal Emissary -----

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Location: The Coruscating Foyer


While many of the tower's rooms have collapsed over the centuries, the first room that greets newcomers remains intact. It is covered on all four sides with with a huge cylindrical wall, of a diameter so large that this single locale exists straight down, or up, from any other room in the tower. The ceiling and floor remain stable and whole. One can view the remnants of the winding staircase that characterized this room in the past crawling up the wall and down in the floor, though huge sections of it are missing as if the rocks it were made of had crumpled to dust.


However, while the room remains complete, it is far from unaltered. New occupants have moved in during its millenia of abandonment. A veritable ecosystem of plants and animals fills its expanse. Carpets of multi-hued moss deck its floors, shining radiantly as they feed off the magical remnants of the spells that had once permeated the place. Vines twist and turn across the floor, wrapping around the remains of shattered gargoyles, and climbing up the walls to twist around the railings of the staircase. These vines seem to be normal examples of their kind, but a passing bat proves this a wrong assumption as they lash out, squeezing the bat until it bursts in a font of blood, carpeting the floor with nutrients.


Most prominently, five massive trees dot the floor. Each one nearly reaches up to the several dozen story high ceiling, and each of their trunks is as large in width as a elephant. No tree should have been able to live in this place with its lack of natural light, yet somehow these incredible examples of plant life have thrived and grown larger than any other examples of their kind. The trees share no commonality in type; one seems to be a Sakura tree, another a Redwood, a third some type of conifer, and so on. They are majestic to behold, and they radiate a soothing aura that belies their centuries old existence.


Several examples of fauna inhabit this room as well. They range from a host of amethyst beetles, colonizing the trunk of the redwood tree, to a sleeping behemoth lying in a pool of muddy water that looks like it is a cross between a moose, a hippopotamus, and a raven. Off to the back of the room at the rock pile that remains of the staircases balcony, a carnelian coated quadruped with drooping ears and large hooves nudges at a green lump that is barely visible under the mound of stone. The lump twitches, shaking under its heavy tomb, and opens a single gray-blue eye. The quadruped knicks even more rocks off of the lump's form as it bounds away in fright, taking its leave of this strange environ.


I... live? An echoing groan rumbles forth, stiffled by the casing lying over most of the lump's body. The lump, no, Er'Akor, settles back to stillness as he surveys what parts of the room he can view from his immobilized state. He cannot see the entire room, but what he does see is more than enough. It has been centuries, maybe even millennium. This is not one of the Overlord's revivals. Have the spirits restored me, did they keep my soul in stock for some great need in the future? Er'Akor closes his eyes in weariness.


Suddenly a scream of mixed horror and rage accompanies his eyes flinging back open. I cannot see the spirits! A massive series of grunts of exertion ensue as the rock pile rumbles, pushed from below by Er'Akor. For several minutes this effort seems useless, but then a lucky rock dislodges because of the shaking, and half of the pile seems to roll away off of Er'Akor's body. He is then easily able to push himself up, not that there is only half the weight remaining. He stands up unsteadily, slowly moving his sore muscles, and gazes at the room with wild eyes.


Calm down you old fool. Either this is a test, in which case panicking will mean failure, or this is the afterlife and all of your rage will mean nothing at all. Examine the situation, judge your options, there must be something you can do. Er'Akor gasps for breath as he contemplates his course of action. This appears to still be the Overlord's tower, however long it has been. Er'Akor grasps his glowing amulet of congealed life energy, reassured by his realization of its continued existence.


I will not be able to survive long in this place without my magic, even though my body appears to still be hale and young. The rooms of the other General's hold many items of power, if I am lucky, perhaps some of them remain intact. I remember enough to avoid most of their wards and traps, if any remain unsprung. Er'Akor looks to the ceiling, gazing at the empty doorway which one held that the double doors that barred the way to the tower's upper rooms. He sees as another poor creature gets squeezed to death by the vines, and grunts in annoyance.


Er'Akor reaches down to his belt and feels the hilt of his trusty steel machete, a completely normal item that he had repaired and maintained over the course of several centuries of life. Pulling it out of its scabbard, he advances to a particularly thick vine that curls up the wall to the balcony's remains. "Apologizes vineling. All speed to your next existence." Er'Akor addresses the vine's host spirit, even though he is unsure if it could hear him or not. He swings his machete down, hacking the vine apart in a spray of green ichor. The plant twitches all along its length for almost a minute before finally settling down, drained of its life.


Er'Akor slides his blade back into his scabbard and rubs his hands together. The benefits of daily exercise. Er'Akor grasps onto the vine and slowly starts to climb up its length. The process takes a third of an hour, including several rest stops on scattered remnants of the staircase, but he eventually makes he way up to the room's top. He catches his breath with a few gasps of air, pulls out his machete again, and strides up into the tower's higher expanse.


Location: The Great Hall


Still unaware that any of his fellow Generals are also awake, Er'Akor stalks into the main room of the tower's upper floors: The Great Hall. He walks in slowly, his machete held high in readiness, prepared for any unnoticed threat. He holds a makeshift torch in his left hand, a simple branch covered with volatile plant ichor that had been set to burning. He knows not what awaits him, but is determined to make his way.

 

[ghoti115]

----- Konrad Cronhielm -----

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-----Arrow from the Shadows-----

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----- Location: The Shadow Archers Armory -----


Arrow's eyes open slowly and adjust to the light feeling the phantom pain of the boots that tread across his body what seemed like only moments ago. He looks around noticing first that no one is present. Then, his ears register the deafening quiet surrounding him. He realizes that the threat that had overwhelmed him have passed through. As he stands, his joints pop and crack from disuse. The dust of ages falls from his clothing.


"This won't do at all" he says aloud to himself. He immediately forgets anything of the dangers he had faced what seemed to be only moments ago. For the moment he ignores the sights of the destroyed room ravaged by time and pulls a brush out of his satchel. He quickly dusts himself clean of the debris, adjusts his clothing to ensure it is straight, and combs his hair as best as he can. Looking down across his jacket he notices the buttons he keeps well polished and gleaming are now tarnished.


"That is odd, I polished these just this morni..." his voice trails off as he finally notices the state of the room. From the destroyed lockers to the broken bows and arrows which have all started to rot. The bones of fallen soldiers are scattered hear and there covered in a layer of dust. Scraps of the Shadow Archer Uniforms and found among the bones. He fears the worst for the soldiers he had been training. He stops to listen for any sounds. Upon hearing none, he sets off towad the back of the armory to search for the secret pannel he had been heading for during the attack.


Upon locating it, he quickly pulls out the bow he typically only used at night, still in pristine condition thanks to the magic used to enhance it. He grabs his quiver and notes that only a few of the arrows are still in a useable condition, he discards the rest making a mental note to obtain any he finds to be in good condition. He grabs the small knife at the bottom of the cache and places it on his belt.


Remembering his hair is still a mess, he attempts to nock an arrow, but his fingers are too stiff and his arms can't quite draw the string. He heads into the corridor and off to his room. Once there, he locates the polish he uses for his buttons and the comb for his hair. He takes some time to make sure he is looking his best in the mirror, which also has some tarnish about it. He makes a note to deal with that later. He sorts through his closet and locates his Shadow Archer Uniform and palces it into his satchel along with his comb, polish and rag, and locket that once belonged to soemoen he loeved. He grabs the sword he has stashed under the dresser and straps it to his back. He again checks himself in the mirror before heading back out into the hallway and toward the Great Hall.


----- Location: The Great Hall -----


Entering the Great Hall, Arrow surveys the results of the fight. At comfort in one of the shadows in the room, he looks about wondering if he was the first to arrive. He dusts of a spot to sit and waits for anyone to arrive wondering what had happened and how long the Tower had been in this state.

 

[Thorn Darkblade]

----- Valdraccus -----

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-----The Harvester of Souls -----

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----- Location: The Great Hall -----


He was still, nearly another corpse in the room, as he heard others enter. He recognized them quickly enough though. More of the Generals. How could this be? Unless, it wasn't his Grimoire that had restored his life. Ah well, no reason to be rude. He spotted the one with the torch first.


"Ah, Master Tokine, I see today has been kind to more than just one of us. Have you seen the others?"


It would be the damned shaman, wouldn't it? That one used the strength of the living earth, but had no idea what true powers could be found in Elsewhere. He sat at the head of the grand table, a position that would be incredibly presumptuous, watching the half orc carefully. His powers hadn't quite returned, but, the halfbreed couldn't possibly know that.

 

[The Dark Wizard]

OOC: These are great so far, nice job everyone!


I would like to point out that you can spot other characters who have reached the hall in posts previous before you and can begin interacting.

 

[Doctor Calgori]

----Aurelia Sevillus Tacitus----

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----Doctor----

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----Location: Under the Battlefield----


Well.


Good start, idiot. Try again.


Well. Well. Well.


Enough. Sentience revoked. Go back to sleep.


Well well well well well well well well well well well well well well well


Enough is enough. And this is enough. Enough is enough is enough is enough is- We just went down that path, I honestly don't think doing it again is going to get anywhere at all. Jeez, what are you, five?


Yes. Well. Lovely. Okay, permission to use the word well revoked. Well well well well well well well


That's it. I'm done. Holding my breath until I pass out. That worked splendidly. Okay, attempt number two. Can we move on in life now? Perhaps stop trying to repeat everything? No? Lovely. Let's start from the beginning. Coherent thought please. Noun Verb Object. Well. Well played. Let me try again, smart ass. Self-referential noun, verb, anything but a well. Thank you.


Actually, no, thanks revoked. I didn't ask for five hours of silence. Probably been five hours anyways. And anyways anyways anyways oh come on. I think I need a new system here. Can I please get a new brain that doesn't repeat everything. Oh, cool, a real thing. That's tangible. Wonder if I have anything else going for me. Like a head. That would be preferential, I'd rather not have something else there, like a foot. Foot-head sounds like a terrible curse. Should work on that.


Okay, yes! I do have a head. Ouch, raising it up more than three inches privileges revoked. Right, I've had enough. Ejecting the soul in three, two, one. What even did that mean. Let's try again, idiot. Achieving full consciousness in three, two, one. Dammit. Oh, just go back to sleep. Not going down without a fight, eh? Resorting to banging head on this object in three, two, let's figure out what it is, first. According to the forehead committee, it's pretty damn hard. That's a start. But we know how untrustworthy the forehead committee is. If only I could get the entire corporation in on this matter. Oh, what's that, mister hand? You think you can say something. Oh, geez! Where did you come from, you scared me. Flopping around against this...magical darkness prison hard head banging thing well well well well well well well. Lovely. Full body check, now. One. Two. Touch my shoe. Do I even have shoes? That would be most appreciated. No? Not at all? Lovely.


I. Hate. Everything.


Aurelia had woken up from what was perhaps the loveliest of sleeps, naps, and rests, to receive an overwhelmingly unpleasant reception, not unlike that of a wedding, of whom- Stay on track!- She was trapped. Somehow. Everything was pitch black, and at first, it had been most difficult to discern whether or not she was, indeed, conscious. A few simple tests involving a forehead, a hard object, and the threshold of pain had, however, sufficed to affirm the return to reality. But what reality? This was obviously no world she had ever seen. And while, yes, this was, or had been, a reality of some strange stuff, Aurelia honestly doubted that she had found a new dimension.


“On the off chance that this is a new dimension, I hate you.” She said, her own voice muffled by whatever it was she looked at. “Fine, be that way.”


She attempted to flip over sideways, to give the new universe the cold shoulder, but found that it was nearly impossible to do so, and anyways, her shoulders were already pretty darn cold. “I win.” She said, to nobody.


I am Aurelia, and I hate everything.


Isn't this where I bust out some crazy magic and blow up a city? For a first thought that seemed pretty cool. Whatever. That's probably what those other jerks are doing right now. Oh right. They exist.


Aurelia's universe suddenly became a lot more.... “Blegh.”


If this is some stupid joke, heads are going to roll. I've had enough. No...It can't be a joke. Those stupid sods can't go three days without making me wash their clothes or clean their rooms. Most magical beings on the face of the stupid, and I'm washing their clothes. Lovely. Jerks jerks jerks. This probably is a joke or something. It's some magical prison and I'm supposed to go insane. Tough luck, boyo, I'm already dead inside.


Aurelia fumbled around the mental field for a few more minutes. It didn't go very well, and presently, she became fed up enough to begin thinking properly. It wasn't hard, honestly. Just, well, annoying. Annoying as hell. No, no, she could handle hell. This was absolutely maddening. Stuck in a magical prison of some sort, and the Major General idiots out there running around messing things up, or laughing at her misfortune for the who's even counting anymore because I'm not-th time. Presently, she found the sensation of feeling in most of her limbs, which, while not impressive, was enough to give her system a shock into reality.


Oh. Yeah. I died.


The sudden memory of her death sent a hand scuttling over to her neck, as Aurelia checked carefully for her head. Yeah, still there. And firmly stuck on her neck. Weird. Hadn't Captain Muffin sliced it off? What a nice gentleman. Aurelia secretly wished that Captain Muffin would just come and break her out of this bind. But. The fact that Captain Muffin was a real thing, meant that paladins must have been able to come near the Tower. And Aurelia didn't think that that was really that common of an occurrence. THEREFORE! Those memories of a great and terrible battle must be right! Aha! Aurelia felt an empty sense of achievement. Oh boy. She was all ready for basic school again. Sign her up. She sullenly fumed for another five minutes.


Right. So now I'm alive somehow, again, or something. Guess Lord Moldypants didn't die out so fast after all. But now I'm stuck in here while everybody else does things. Why don't I get things. I kind of want things. Whatever.


Aurelia punched the darkness in front of her with some frustration, which, oddly enough, resulted in her arm flying cleanly through the substance with a resounding CRACK! And the musty smell of splintering wood, flying up and out and pop! Into...something. Well, great. She thought, oddly. The dirt still gently raining down told her that, hey, somebody had buried her. Probably Lord Muffin. Aurelia felt like eating muffins all of a sudden. All. of. The. Muffins. She would need them, to quench her hate. Dohoho. I am Aurelia, the most powerful hater in the world. Fear me, Generals, for I hate your guts.


Her hand, meanwhile, and unknown to her, had punched its way cleanly through the rotting wood of her coffin, along the empty tunnel of an abandoned gopher's hole, and straight up into the sunlight, where it now stood, flopping around uselessly, and occasionally, clenching into a small ball of rage, or otherwise, making obscene gestures that she was used to making when Generals weren't looking. Or were looking, she honestly didn't care, and by now they were used to her doing that. A little signal post. “Here Lies Aurelia, the Hater of Worlds.”

 

[Grey]

----- Mordechai Selanmere -----

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-----Father of Monsters -----

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Location: The Great Hall

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Mordechai emerges from a side passage, stepping shakily into the Great Hall. They live, thank the fates. Some of them li-

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Oh. And the Necromancer, too. Well, it wasn't all going to be good news.

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"Er'Akor." He nods by way of greeting, then looks to Valdraccus. "Necromancer," he says, making the word sound like a curse.

​

"Ah, and Konrad, too." He slumps into a chair, which creaks under his weight.

​

"What the hell is going on? Where is He?"

​

 

[Tempest]

----- Tyhria Veliantiel -----

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----- The Shadow Witch -----

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Location: The Great Hall


As the other Generals entered the Great Hall, they would have found Tyhria sitting there, looking up at the smashed ceiling... a catapult shot had managed to pierce it so as to go all the way up to the sky. She now sat on a fallen boulder, the benches and chairs of the Tower so rotten and ruined... actually, they were mulch. As she heard the noises of Er'Akor's awakening, her strange blue eyes quickly locked to the doors of the Great Hall, waiting, waiting... and smiling as he walked in.


The Great Hall was once the size of a cathedral, so large as to extend out of the Tower and provide a beautiful view over a promontory. Now, it was decked with much the same ecosystem as the Coruscating Foyer. Even here, 3 trees had grown up, forming pillars that held the crumbling roof up, as moss and vines hang from their branches. Magic, the colors of it varied and strange, danced around the place, with moss, lichens, grasses, and bushes coating much of the crumbled walls and floor. Even where she sat, Tyhria looked over to see three patches of lichen, a bush that looked like a mini tree, and a tuft of grass that was too sharp to sit on.


Slowly, the door swung open, and the sight of the Generals walking through put a smile on Tyhria's face. Sitting on the stone, dressed only in vines, she probably looked like a witch or a fairy to them, so no surprise that they were being cautious. Solwy, furtively, Tyhria tried her voice, shouting out to him. "Hey! You guys are awake!" She slowly stood up and glanced around, spotting Konrad, Mordechai, Valdraccus (blegh!), and Er'Akor. And everyone was sneaking in like somehow they were going to die or something. Stretching, Tyhria glanced around and decided to stay where she was, waiting for their responses.

 

[Incendius]

----- Er'Akor Tokine -----

​

----- The Supernal Emissary -----

​

Location: The Great Hall


"Greetings young ones. It seems that we have all arisen at the same time, considering the company that is already here. I expect that the rest of us shall be arriving soon." Er'Akor sets his torch into an emplacement on the central table as he speaks, providing shadowy illumination for the gigantic room. "Valdraccus, Mordechai, Konrad, Tyhria, it is a pleasure to see all of you again." Er'Akor speaks with what seems to be sincerity, nodding to each of them in turn.


Er'Akor emplaces himself into a moss covered seat at the middle of the table, at the center of all the discussion. This was his normal placement. The moss was not so unusual, for it had always been covered in some sort of adornment, and so Er'Akor found himself comfortable. "I have not seen him yet, Mordechai, but he will doubtless be arriving soon. It is unlikely that so many of would have been revived without him, so it is likely just a matter of waiting."


There is something odd about the way that Er'Akor is speaking; or rather, there is something entirely normal about it. His conversation holds none of the ticks that usually characterize him, of the head turns that flick towards an unseen presence or of the muttered comments to invisible ears. It is a subtle thing, but it is a profound statement nonetheless; it is something that breaks the mien of calmness surrounding Er'Akor for anyone who notices.

 

[Thorn Darkblade]

----- Valdraccus -----

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-----The Harvester of Souls -----

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----- Location: The Great Hall -----


"I assume you mean the Overlord, Master Selanmere...alas, I cannot sense his soul, neither living nor deceased, within the confines of these walls, or beyond... Elsewhere, the Nether, and this plane... He's simply vanished."


Valdraccus grabbed an ancient bottle of wine from the table, uncorked it into a dusty goblet, not minding the spider he just washed into the bottom. The wine had long since turned to vinegar, and the foul smell filled the air. He sipped it casually, biting down on the spider.


"So...is this all that survived? Or are there more? I did not sense any of your souls either until just now, so, perhaps more are still awakening..."

 

[Grey]

----- Mordechai Selanmere -----

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-----Father of Monsters -----

​

​

​

​

"Gone? Gone so utterly?" Mordechai seems aghast, then rises from his seat, hands planted on the table. "AND YOU SIT HERE DRINKING WINE?"

​

 

[Incendius]

----- Er'Akor Tokine -----

​

----- The Supernal Emissary -----

​

Location: The Great Hall

​

​

"Calm down, Mordechai. None know the full extend of the Overlord's powers. It would be easy for him to shroud himself from Valdraccus'... peculiar magic. That is even disregarding his inability to be aware of us, who are not so adept." Er'Akor remains in his seat, looking evenly at Mordechai.

 

[Grey]

----- Mordechai Selanmere -----

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-----Father of Monsters -----

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​

​

​

"I'm sorry. I..." Mordechai falls back into his seat. "It's just... they killed them."

​

His eyes well up with tears. "My children, all of them, put to the sword. All except Ziel, and he does not know me anymore."

​

 

[Thorn Darkblade]

----- Valdraccus -----

​

-----The Harvester of Souls -----

​

----- Location: The Tower Dungeons, Torture Chamber -----


"Your anger does you no good, Mordechai. Care for a glass?"


He smiled, a spider leg stuck between two of his remaining teeth, casually leaning forward, still at the very head of the table. He sipped more of the foul vinegar.


"Right now, I suggest patience. There surely are more Generals awakening. I cannot sense them yet, but that does not mean they are not coming. Our time to act will come soon. First of all, does anyone know exactly how long it's been? Judging by the corpses of the men who I had left alive in the dungeon, last I remember, I'd say it's been quite a long time.

 

[The Dark Wizard]

OOC: Incendius don't forget to use the template and Grey try to stay away from one liners, make up details about the environment or be more angry or have self monologues !

 

[Tempest]

----- Tyhria Veliantiel -----

​

----- The Shadow Witch -----

​

Location: The Great Hall


Tyhria sat there for a second, old habits and ways of being nervous and shy overpowering an at least century old urge to talk to someone. "Or... perhaps he's actually, really gone for good? I mean, if he was here... do you really think that the Alliance would have been able to attack us?" As she sat there, she shifted around a bit, and stabbed her knife into the grass next to her. No need for it to accidentally stab her. If the Overlord was gone... it did make sense, as to why they were able to be attacked... but it doesn't explain how they woke up. Or how this forest had grown up...


Just how long had they been asleep anyway? Another thought quickly popped into Tyhria's head, and she glanced to the other mages. "Oh! Has anyone else had trouble casting magic in the middle of a magically seeped 5 kilometer area?

 

[ghoti115]

----- Konrad Cronhielm -----

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-----Arrow from the Shadows-----

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----- Location: The Great Hall -----


At the sound of voices and the sight of the torch, Arrow realizes he is not alone. He walks toward the others at an even pace and takes a seat at the Grand Table near Mordechai, happy to see the man's kind face.


He replies to Mordechai's questions, "I have no idea what happened beyond the breach of the training fields and the Tower itself. I can say that many of the arrows in the armory are useless and that I was in quite a state. It took me nearly an hour to remove the tarnish from these buttons."


He is sure to show the now shiny brass buttons on his jacket as proof.


"Wait, the Overlord is gone? But then what of..." He stops himself before mentioning his Kingdom. "Then what are we to do? Are we to return to our homelands?"

 

[Incendius]

----- Er'Akor Tokine -----

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----- The Supernal Emissary -----

​

Location: The Great Hall

​

Er'Akor looks off into the distance at one of the three large trees in the hall. "Even accounting for the influx of magical energies, I would have to say centuries at the least. No less than half a millennium. The power in these halls isn't the right kind to spurn on rapid growth, and such trees take a very long time to grow."


Er'Akor absently rubs a vine curling up the leg of his chair as if it was an affectionate animal. "So I agree; patience seems to be the best course. There is no need to rush. When you live to be my age, you'll understand the truth of that. Everything happens in time. When we are all gathered, then we can decide what to do."

 

[Grey]

----- Mordechai Selanmere -----

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-----Father of Monsters -----

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----- Location: The Great Hall -----

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​

Mordechai sits in thought for a time, tears silently tracing lines on his cheeks.

​

"He'd want us to stay together, I think." He says, suddenly "Gone or not, he'd want us to stay together. Rebuild. Is the Core stable? Maybe... maybe if we restore the tower, it'll call him back? An anchor for his soul? A beacon? If nothing else, we could see his vision to the end. Reunite the world. In... in memory."

​

​

​

 

[VonRidel]

----- Vitae Pretium-----

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----- Dominus Scolaris -----

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Location: Ruins of the Forward Base Camp

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​

Vitae woke up, screaming with rage. He lashed out at the air above him, waiting for the mage to come finish him off. He slashed with his swor- Where is my sword? He stood up, and looked around him. The land was layered with dead grass, and above that are rusty swords and skeletons. The tents were gone, the armies were gone, the ballista's we had here, gone.

​

What happend here...? Where... no, when am I? He walks over to a skeleton, and looks over it.

​

These skeletons are old... how long as it been? How long have the armies... Who won? Our armies? Theirs? It must of been them... Why would I have been dead otherwise? Why did the crystal not revive me? I am supposed to be immortal! I am a General in the service of the Overlord, "SO WHY WAS I DEAD?" He screams, forgetting himself.

​

Are the other Generals dead too? Did they get revived, juts as I was? I must... must go to the Tower... see if they are there...

​

Vitae slowly makes his way to the tower, hoping he will find somthing there, but dreading what it might be.

​

​

​

 

[Thorn Darkblade]

----- Valdraccus -----

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-----The Harvester of Souls -----

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----- Location: The Great Hall -----


"An anchor? Do any of us have the knowledge to restore the Tower? Even my talents in the realm of Elsewhere were naught compared to the Overlord's...but, I suppose there is no harm in taking just a look."


The foul vinegar was gone, probably much to the relief of everyone else in the room. He then reached for a basked of bread, but, found naught but mouse droppings.


"Also, may I suggest we find provisions? Without the Tower fully complete, I dare to venture a guess at our state of immortality. Such...trivial matters...as food will become important."

 

[Tempest]

----- Tyhria Veliantiel -----

​

----- The Shadow Witch -----

​

Location: The Great Hall


Tyhria finally looked down from staring up at the sky and down at the other Generals, then around at the land. She thought about her next words, then in a sort of offhanded voice told her thoughts. "Call me crazy, but I really think re-establishing the Overlord's rule should not be our top priority. Val is probably right... food might be essential first, not figuring out which nation to attack." She never was really listened to back when they were Generals- her word never seemed that smart, but... couldn't the other Generals also tell that something was up? That this wasn't the world that they had left?


She sighed again after saying her statement, and leaned back to continue looking at the stars, wondering whether these four were her only companions to have survived.