He gazed at his arms as his wounds seemed to heal entirely through some magic unknown to him. Even more surprising his cloak was being recreated around him, looking even newer and healthy than ever before. He gazed back towards the "God" before him. He was skeptical to say the least, he had met few people who he could agree were stronger than him. He claimed rule over the underworlds after-all... Then again, that glory no longer held much weight after the Cataclysm. But there was no denying that there was something... Unusual about the man before him. He took the shape of a human, but he could sense no human attributes. Maybe it was some kind of trick?
The rate at which a Draken's mind thought was both a curse and a blessing. It helped in battle, but out of battle, the rampant thoughts would bring them to the edge of insanity. It is for this reason that Drakens have continued to fight and kill throughout history, as it was the easiest method to calm their minds even if only for a few moments. Needless to say, the weakest Drakens were quickly eliminated by the high suicide rate. Only those who could tolerate their own existence survived, breeding forth an ever more superior race with each generation.
The dark matter that consumed his blade slithered like a black gel back, traveling up his gloved hand and soon hidden under his sleeve where it presumably was sucked back into his body. His blade seemed much smaller in size by comparison to before.
By now the flame core that was infused into his body had drained itself of the energy it had, and soon that fire energy was no longer available. No matter, he still managed to keep most of his reserves in fire techniques untouched. He felt more rejuvenated now, even more so than when he had started the last battle.
For now he was forced to play this game to reach his true opponent, but if it was the only way he would follow it. He carried the blade firmly still in his right hand as he headed in the direction West pointed without saying a word, just a simple nod in unspoken thanks.
After crossing through the calming grasslands for some time, in the distance he saw a large circular structure that seemed to have endured many great battles and tragedies. As he approached the building, headed towards the large double-gated main entrance, he raised his blade in front of him, preparing for a trap. A mild metallic black and purple fog was spewing out of his right hand and over the hilt of the blade as the dark energies within him primed themselves and lubricated his various energy channels.
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He’d be guided through the entrance, pushed by winds and the smell of blood ahead. The coliseum seemed empty within, but in the stands it was clear that demons of a hundred types loudly beckoned with their various forces. Several types without mouths screamed directly into the Draken’s mind, speaking words of threat and support in one breath. The ground in the middle of the dead area was cracked, and within the thin gap was only darkness unseen.
At the far side of the coliseum, black wings folded around his body, Vffekt stood at the edge of the stands. Beautiful vixens and armored knights all around him, he paid neither mind. His current focus was the man entering the area. The unique race given sweet death as much by their own hands as from their enemies. Their talent for each element was unquestionable, and their ability to host powerful forces was a formidable aspect. The blade at his side seemed to possess an impossibly greater aura than even Vffekt held. Perhaps due to that the blade would not cloak itself, but it’s energies were as if another Vffekt was at his side. Great power infused into unknown metal, strapped to his hip.
It’s aura was unique, as it drew in the auras of those around it. Invisible tendrils that would only be black if they could be sensed by anything but one’s own spirit. Nothing would feel drained, merely touched by it’s unique feel. The void lay beyond the sword, as if the weapon itself was a gateway to a world where nothing could exist. Even souls would be torn apart in the chaotic maelstrom, mortal bodies of any type would be ripped into an infinitely fractioned mess before devoured by the anti-universe.
Visions of this world flashed through the Draken’s mind, pressing out the voices of the demons and even the sight of them, rendering Vffekt the only thing before him. Beckoning to Amadeus with his cold eyes alone, his wings unfolded and revealed a newer suit. Of grander and more delicate design. Still dark, bearing black and purple, with a gem of red at his collarbone. Saying not a word, he merely stood at the lip of the arena with an impassive expression.
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by Vffekt on Mon Jan 01, 2007 2:34 pm
He’d be guided through the entrance, pushed by winds and the smell of blood ahead. The coliseum seemed empty within, but in the stands it was clear that demons of a hundred types loudly beckoned with their various forces. Several types without mouths screamed directly into the Draken’s mind, speaking words of threat and support in one breath. The ground in the middle of the dead area was cracked, and within the thin gap was only darkness unseen.
At the far side of the coliseum, black wings folded around his body, Vffekt stood at the edge of the stands. Beautiful vixens and armored knights all around him, he paid neither mind. His current focus was the man entering the area. The unique race given sweet death as much by their own hands as from their enemies. Their talent for each element was unquestionable, and their ability to host powerful forces was a formidable aspect. The blade at his side seemed to possess an impossibly greater aura than even Vffekt held. Perhaps due to that the blade would not cloak itself, but it’s energies were as if another Vffekt was at his side. Great power infused into unknown metal, strapped to his hip.
It’s aura was unique, as it drew in the auras of those around it. Invisible tendrils that would only be black if they could be sensed by anything but one’s own spirit. Nothing would feel drained, merely touched by it’s unique feel. The void lay beyond the sword, as if the weapon itself was a gateway to a world where nothing could exist. Even souls would be torn apart in the chaotic maelstrom, mortal bodies of any type would be ripped into an infinitely fractioned mess before devoured by the anti-universe.
Visions of this world flashed through the Draken’s mind, pressing out the voices of the demons and even the sight of them, rendering Vffekt the only thing before him. Beckoning to Amadeus with his cold eyes alone, his wings unfolded and revealed a newer suit. Of grander and more delicate design. Still dark, bearing black and purple, with a gem of red at his collarbone. Saying not a word, he merely stood at the lip of the arena with an impassive expression.
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by SinfulSoul on Tue Jan 09, 2007 1:47 pm
Just posting here to say that I haven't forgotten about this. I will edit this post later as soon as I get a chance. Classes are beginning and my time suddenly went down the drain.
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