SinfulSoul wrote:-=A rift tore through the fabric of reality several feet above a night street, through which he finally had emerged from years of self-inflicted exile. The moans of agony and pain from the belly of hell itself permeated through the air as he emerged through the rift. A yellow steam that smelled of sulfur poured out of this rift and layered the ground in its fog. His body was wrapped within his standard black dressing and hooded cloak, yet this time the hungry red eyes of a demon not seen before in this century pierced through the black shade of the hood. The bonds that locked the demon away had finally been broken loose and its untamed spirit was quickly taking over Sinful's body. He landed on the pavement in the desolate streets of Wing City as the rift behind him closed almost instantaneously, but the yellow fog and sulfur remained. The long dark streets were left with the echoes of pain and suffering while Sinful lay kneeling on one knee with his right fist in the ground. The red glow in his eyes reflected off the pavement. The clouds above rumbled together in a rush, converging on Sinful's location. All was mute for a brief moment - the calm before the storm. Then, a thunder cracked through the air a light, almost unnoticeable acid rain began pouring down onto the desolate streets. Only a few drops fell, but where those drops landed immediately began eroding the concrete. The powers brewing in this city spurned his appetite as he craved to satiate a century old unsatisfied hunger. Few signs remained that showed his Draken heritage, and those that remained were quickly fading away as his body endured a rapid transformation. A sickening bone-crunching sound came from his face as the bone structure elongated into that of the Demon within him. His body grew in size, approaching 7 feet long. Sinful flung his head back towards the raining skies and let out a shriek of pain with the mixed voice of Sinful and the Demon consuming his body. The clouds above revolved in a cyclone as the brewing power emanating from his body grew exponentially. His skin tore as muscle mass began building on top of his mutating bone structure. The pupils of his eyes dilated and faded away until they were nothing but a red torrential glow - the red soul of the demon spewed its immense power out from his eyes in a red-speckled haze. The acid rain pelted his face, tearing away at the human flesh which was quickly replaced with the demonic flesh from his Demonic parasite. His teeth began falling off his gums, only to be replaced with sprouting fangs. His nails fell off his fingers and toes leaving trails of blood and soon replaced with sharp claws that tore through his gloves and boots. A final testament to his true nature came with one last agonizing push of pain. He collapsed to the ground onto his hands and knees trying to suppress the excess pain. Two bulges from his back were trying to break through his flesh, and finally with another sickening crunch, two black tattered wings ripped from his back and through his clothes. His skin was stained red from his own blood. The pool of blood around him was quickly washed down the streets, staining the pavement down for several yards, but the scents of iron and sulfur served only to intoxicate him with more hunger and rage. He slowly climbed to his feet as the new host of his body adjusted itself with the new hardware. A long red tongue slithered out of his mouth and licked the blood off the left side of his cheek. A bull-like huff of air spewed from his nostrils and coated his body in steam. He caught the scent of food in the building adjacent to him. His eyes narrowed to slits as he suddenly launched his body into the second floor of the building. The wall caved in around him with a plume of dust as he plowed through it. One long shriek was heard as the beast feasted on its victim. Half chewed body parts were thrown into the streets like chicken bones. Once he had finished, he stepped out on to the edge of the building from the hole he had made in it at looked towards the sky. The acid rain grew in intensity and began intoxicating the area. The rooves of buildings were beginning to deteriorate already, and small animals caught in the downfall were left with little more than an eroded skeleton and mutated fleshy goo. =-
-=Only the strong would be able to survive in this environment. This was his new feeding ground.=-
Saladin wrote:-=The rains fell still, a heavy roll of thunder bellowed from the dark grey, almost black clouds high above what was now dubbed 'The Tower of Peace'. Sat upon a rather arnate throne of gold was the figure of Saladin. The renewed leader of the land. His battle had been arduous, but he had once more re-established peace within the people he loved. His homeworld. Several Guardians, Warriors and Sorcerers were in that magnificent hall, a guard of honour from each of the factions that ruled alongside the renowned Simtar Saladin Akara. His figure had changed recently, the refusing of his soul and that of Nilas, who had long served as his brother had brought upon the universe a new being. But with the new being, and its creation, chaos had unfolded on the world. The once beautiful Homeless Plains were now a barren, burnt desert. The new best, an almost angelic creature looked upon the men and women in his presence, a deep peace within his soul, it was certainly good to be home. Although, deep within his mind were thoughts of Wing City, the place he had met his beautiful wife, Miyumi. That was also home, the humble apartment they had lived in, the small bar where he had made many friendships. The fool Lady Une was supposed to have attacked by now. Nothing had been heard from them. It was worrying. The rain pelted upon the tall building, audible even within the hall that served as the centre-piece of the magnificent, shining symbol of unity. Azure eyes, crystalline, sharp, as though through his gaze, Saladin could see all, they looked outwards from his throne. Sat fully erect, his glorious wings of white, thick, leather like, spanning fifty feet when fully spread, wrapped his body. Still, however, the pale glow that had surrounded him every moment since he fused with Nilas, was visible. The wings served to hide the countless scars upon his heavily muscled torso. Those scars, the price of the transformation glowed with slightly more luminance than his body. His face, however, had changed little, the features still seemed carved of stone. Hair, however, had changed from a shining silver, to a white that seemed like the snow on the peaks of the most isolated mountains, it fell to his mid thigh, smooth and perfectly straight. Indeed, this great warrior was almost angelic. However, hidden by that celestial image was a power both great and terrible. The Saidin he had mastered long ago was now readily available to him, just as it was to Nilas. In sacrifice to that, Saladin had lost the ability to call upon his Elementals at will. A problem that held little importance; Saidin was a much powerful tool. The, there it was. Suddenly a feeling of dread filled his mind. An image of a strange, black cloaked man, a transformation ensuing, followed by destruction and death. What was this awful power Saladin could feel. Terrible dread filled his soul, knowing that the power was not on his land, but a place far away. He focused his thoughts, the power resonating now, through vast distances of space. Even the lower level sorcerers could feel it, and they shifted where they stood, a feel of unease filling the great hall. Yes. That was where the man was, if indeed, it was still a man. Standing from his throne, he rose to seven feet three inches. A giant of a man, black trousers adorned his legs, heavy boots upon his feet of he same hue. Picking up his most trusted ally, he fastened the long, elegantly curved sword to his left hip, the scabbard no longer wrapped in white cloth. The leather of the scabbard was black, engraved with runes foreign even to Kelante. The golden hilt of the blade shined slightly, reflecting the light of perhaps five hundred candles that lit the marble floored hall. It was long, two and a half hands, stylised as a dragon, head serving as the pommel, mouth slightly open. Without a word, and being observed by all, Saladin opened a Gateway, knowing his destination perfectly, A long, vertical sliver of white light appeared in front of the man, seeming to turn much like a door, and reveled in the opening was the view of Wing City. It seemed desolate. What had happened here. A violent rain fell, a breeze blowing some of that precipitation into the hall. Lucky that was for Saladin. He had been given warning of the initial danger to the battle ground he was about to enter. Unseen to any, he weaved threads of Air, Saidin flowing through him, a small trickle only, creating a barrier of Air, a pre-emptive maneuvour, ensuring he would not melt within the first few moments of returning to that world. The marble floor was steaming as the droplet fell, a smell much like sulphur. What was this fantastic power? The gateway was high above the city, some hundred feet. Stepping through the Gateway, allowing it to close instantly, Saladin spread wings of the most angelic to their full span, allowing his body to fall only a small distance, he scanned the area for the beast, his body horizontal. There, he saw it, guided by the power within. He was cautious, and knew that jumping into battle head on was fully, especially against a foe such as this. Silently, deep within his mind, a thought travelled, only barely reaching his consciousness. Where were the others? Why were they not here? Just What had happened whilst he was gone? It mattered little right now. The battle was obviously destined to be his own. He focused then, allowing Saidin's flow through his body to increase, his body glowing brighter and brighter as more Saidin filled his body. Despite the power of this strange beast, Saladin would fight to the death to protect this city that was home.=-
