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Randle Ludak

*Low growl*

0 · 1,125 views · located in Vasquera

a character in “Deadman's March”, as played by Wake

Description

Randle Ludak
Image




Theme: Mordred's Lullaby by Heather dale
Gender: Male
Nickname(s): The Mad Cur, The Big Guy.
Age: Unknown
Race: Witchcraft infused ogre/human hybrid


Appearance: The armor he wears is black and jagged, with a helm shaped like the warped head of a jackal. A long ragged brown cape extends from it's shoulder plates. Under his armor, his flesh is covered with rune shaped scars that have been carved onto him and spiderweb like burn marks that branch out all over his skin.


Preferred Clothing: His armor


Height: 7'3"
Weight: 276 lbs
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Red


Personality: Randle has earned his reputation as The Mad Cur for a reason. His...rather abusive upbringing has left his mind slightly warped and makes it hard for him to keep control of his internal savagery. In battle, when his blood is pumping, he is overcome with a feral rage that sends him into a wild frenzy. At best it could be said that he has been reduced to an animalistic mentality by his mother's raising of him. Many of his actions are powered more by instinct rather than thought. He is capable of thinking and speech though, even if his vocabulary is a bit rudimentary. However he generally tends to distrust other people because of his past experiences and is usually very cold and blunt towards others.

Deep down inside though, he is very submissive and lonely. Feeling isolated in his own little world, he desperately longs to reach out to others, but is incapable of doing so because of his outward nature. Randle's frequent bouts of rage are often from the pained alienation he feels and a sense of loss. And because of his seemingly animal-like mentality he tends to have difficulty making decisions on his own, often looking to others for guidance on the simplest things, provided they've earned his trust. Just past Randle's monster-like exterior is really someone like a frightened little child.


Weapon: A Massive sword, almost as large as he is. The sword is so heavy that it takes three grown men to lift it. Randle, however, can hold it with one hand. It was crafted using the the soul of his sister in a blood sacrifice to make it impervious to non-magical harm.

Fighting Style: Randle swings his blade around in a wide arc, practically sweeping a path of destruction around him. He's learned to move with the momentum of his swings, shifting his body and footing when needed to either evade or close the gap between him and the enemy. Despite his size and the weight of his weapon, he is very agile for the berserker beast that he is.

Abilities: Randle possesses inhuman physical strength. Able to crush a man's skull with his bare hands, he would be considered a dangerous foe even when unarmed.

Personal History: Randle has had an unfortunate history of being used by others. A fact made only worse since he died.

Born from the exiled witch queen Undina, and rumored to have been sired by an ogre, Randle was raised by his mother to do one thing and one thing only. And that was take revenge on those that cast his mother out. It was a harsh upbringing. In the morning he was instructed on the way of battle and trained to kill; in the evening, he had runes inscribed into his flesh by dark rituals, and the rest of the time he would be beaten if he misbehaved. He was little more then a tool to his mother. The harbinger of her scorned wrath to act as the vanguard for the small horde of brigands she amassed to her side over the years.

Sometime during his growth, though, his mother had sought fit to give birth to a second child. Randle's baby sister, a young thing, who soon turned into a stabilizing entity in Randle's life. She was the only one that gave the then young beast of a man any sort of sympathy or genuine affection.

However, like Randle himself, his mother only gave birth to the child so that she would be of use to their mother. The reason why Randle's sister was born was so that she could be sacrificed to forge a weapon for her conquest. When Randle found what his mother had done, he flew into a rage and struck her down. When the frenzy wore off and he realized what he had done, and what had happened, Randle became grief stricken. In his screams of sorrow, pain, and rage he drew the attention of his mother's lieutenants. Consumed by his pain, he lashed out against them as well, soon having the entire camp against him as he struck madly, slaughtering his way through their ranks as he tried to vent his frustration and pain.

When it was all over, his mother and sister remained dead, the horde was scattered before it could even begin its campaign, and Randle was left to wander the wilds alone and without a purpose or reason to exist. Eventually rumors of his existence began to circulate. The "Mad Cur" of the forest, a monstrous beast that walked like a man and murdered unwary travelers. This drew hunters looking to make a trophy of him. And when Randle slew them he drew the attention of soldiers.

A bloody battle took place. And despite all his strength, Randle was eventually subdued and imprisoned. Originally it was called for the "beast man" to be put down. However some saw the value in Randle's strength and decreed he would suffer a fate worse than mere execution. Thus Randle found himself forcibly conscripted into the Deadman Division.


Other:

So begins...

Randle Ludak's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof
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He nearly let out a snort of contempt at the woman's words. Indeed, with treatment like this Adrian would get cranky, too. That thought only brought back bitter memories and he had to fight to keep his temper in check. Glancing at the fair woman Adrain called back politely, "With all do respect, my lady. I'm not the one who's provoking him." No, Adrian expected he was the friendliest face the titan had seen in a long while.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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#, as written by Wake
The behemoth and his keepers were halted by the intrusion of a stranger. The keepers and the stranger spoke briefly. Then he surprised the giant by walking up close to him and, calmly, patting his his shoulder.

"Take heed, my friend. For you are not alone."

This was... new. When it came to interactions with others it was always with other voicing a tone of fear, rage, or a mix of both. For someone to actually approach him without a hint of either was, well, off putting for the large one. Even more so when the stranger spoke up for him against the commander's warnings.

The giant stood straight, looking down at the other man. A low reverberation emitted from his throat that made the others around them nervous at the sound. The giant regarded the other man, not with his usual scorn but a clear sign of mistrust. A life of brutality made the large one slow to trust others.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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Ransu had lost his chance to speak as Trista's attention was currently focused on the foreigner. The half-ogre caught his attention, these weren't exactly native to these parts. He pointed at the caged beast "Is that thing even sentient?" He asked his eye's lit up with curiosity. "I mean, not ogre level sentient, humanoid level?" He tacked on at the end.

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Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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#, as written by Wake
"Of course it's not. The damned beast is barely more the a rabid dog." Darkus spat. Waving Ransu's question like it was obvious. "Now if you all are done I'd like to get this over grown pest back where to belongs and on to my paper work. I have to tally up on the groups loses and take care of the mess the brutes made.

The armored behemoth turned towards the wizard and the blond haired one, and growled. Whether it was at the blonde one's comment or just still angry at the old man for his earlier attempts to humiliate him, though, was up for debate.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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Trista Anerwyn


The man's comment aside, Trista answered Ransu with: "He'd better be if he's going to stick around with us." She kept her vision on the stranger, noticing that a second one was approaching by the man's side. "If not, then there's only such much that we can do. It's not even up to us, really. If the enforcers think he'll be more detrimental than useful, they'll probably execute him or toss him into a cell until he's learned to behave himself. Personally, I'd like to think that there's a brain somewhere underneath those massive plates of his. But who am I to judge? Perhaps the enforcer is right. The only thing that matters is that he can do his job, just as is expected of us."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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Nimba heaved an exasperated sigh, snatching up Adrian's cloak and chasing after him as he went after the giant.. thing with the humongous sword strapped to its back. All she could help thinking was: this monster's obviously chained up for a reason, you high-born fool! She didn't say that, though. Nimba knew all too well Adrian's.. history regarding enslavement, so it had to have struck a chord with him deep down inside. For a few moments she just watched the scene unfold as he conversed with the Deadmen. It wasn't until the wizard spoke that Nimba bristled and barked, "And how exactly do you know that, rada im'a ba dho, ya?" Her head cocked to the side, eyebrow raised and a mocking smirk on her lips- half a snarl, half a grin, her teeth gritted and eyes shimmering with a giddy glint. She didn't like this old bastard. There was an air of.. fool about him. He seemed the kind of man who dwelt his days in books, but never stepped out to know things for himself. "Hanya nee ta'go, ku," she turned her head and spat into the sand before turning her nose up at him. A curse, swear and insult rolled into one- and an old Yi Aba proverb, they were a funny people that way.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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#, as written by Wake
Darkus turned to the girl, a look of disgust on his face. "Don't presume to talk to me about my subordinates, foreigner." He brought his hands up, making a 'shooing' motion with them. "Get gone, the lot of you. I have business to take care of, and you are trying my patience." He snapped his fingers at the keepers of the giant, and motioned them to bring him inside.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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Nimba's fist tightened around Adrian's cloak, still balled up in her hand. She'd half a mind to blast his ass with a column of sand. Wouldn't be too difficult, a simple conjuration- magic through the sand like snakes slithering through undergrowth, gathering the grains together and launching a punching blow right into the old bugger's chest. Like a sock to the gut, but ten times harder. She breathed through her gritted teeth, hazel eyes narrowing furiously, and fought to calm herself. She had a bad habit of letting her emotions get out of control- specifically her vindictiveness. She didn't like getting pushed around, and come to think of it had never really met anybody who did. Rather than saying another word and just fueling the man's flame, she swallowed her spite and resigned to sending another curse his way, "Jiba zan nifu se'hi o' rûd!"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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Adrian smiled. In his own way the armored soul graced him with acknowledgment and that pleased Adrian greatly. He did not feel threatened by the titan in the least. Oh, Adrian did not dismiss the threats around him. Certainly not, his senses simply told him that if there was any threat to Adrian's well being it was the men around him, not the titan. Indeed, from the show that was going on around him Adrian felt nothing but scorn for the Deadmen in his presence and rightfully so.

Ignoring the rabble about him, Adrian brought the giant's attention back to him by elegantly spreading his arms, fingers splayed and palms out - the sign that he meant no harm. Ever polite and with the tone one gives to a comrade, "My friend, I mean you no harm." With a slight nod of his head, "I am Adrian. If I might ask, dear man, what is your name?"

Almost instantly, "The beast has no name! Its just a animal, the Mad Cur!" Came the response from the the childish dullard Adrian had been doing his best trying to ignore. Closing his eyes and asking through gritted teeth, "You don't know his name? Have you ever asked?" Seething, switching to his native language, "Ignorant pack of whelps, not worth the seed that conceived the lot of you!"

Reining in his anger and switching back to the language of these lands, "Surely he has a name," Adrian was trying his damnedest to remain civil. "Surely?!" Sighing, Adrian looked up at the titan and patted his chest. "I feel for you my friend, surrounded by ignoramuses as you are."

"Any name will do." Adrian mused for a bit, "Hell, how about Randy?" He didn't know where the name came from but for some reason it seemed to fit. Certainly it was better than what the worm-food around him was calling him.

The setting changes from Vasquera to Shevasse

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Eolan Kalris Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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#, as written by Mosinau
Eolan had been paying little attention to the scene in front of him from where he sat on the back of the wagon, in the shade of its cover. However, he looked up suddenly from his reading at the sound of a vaguely familiar form of speech. The dialect itself was unknown to him, but might it be...?
He regarded the young woman with a cool stare. "You are Abarran?" he asked, interrupting the altercation between her and Darkus as if wholly unaware of what was taking place.

The setting changes from Shevasse to Vasquera

Setting

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Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof
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#, as written by Wake
The giant listened still to the man, who had introduced himself as Adrian. He still continued to confuse the giant, the way he stood up for the large one. And how he continued to speak politely to the behemoth in turn. "Surely he has a name, Surely?!"" The giant heard him say, patting his chest. "I feel for you my friend, surrounded by ignoramuses as you are."

The giant kept the most of his focus on the curious man, but his keepers started to pull the behemoth away and his attention waned. "Any name will do." He said as the giant began to turn away from the other man to follow his tugging jailers.

"Hell, how about Randy?"

Mid turn, the giant stopped.

The keepers, stopped, nearly jerking their arms out of their sockets when they found their charge as unmovable as a mountain.

Everything, STOPPED.

For several moments, the giant didn't move. Complete, dead, silence followed in the quake of Adrian's words.

Randy. That name. Randy. It brought back memories of a different time. Of a different place. Of a child, a little girl, with snow white hair and beautiful blue eyes. A child that danced like a fairy through the woods. A child who's giggling laughter could melt ice with it's warmth. A child that would sneak him food when mother punished him, who asked him to play with her when he was lonely, who made him smile when he was sad and hurt.

A child, that held all the warmth and light he had ever know in his life, before she was taken away, forever.

'Randy! Come play with me!'

Slowly, as though time was returning from a sea of molasses, the giant turned it's head back to the man. The full weight of the behemoth's gaze bore down on Adrian. This time there was no mistrust, scorn, rage, apathy, or any of the like that was the norm of the behemoths stares. It was total bewilderment in his eyes. A look of complete shock and confusion, as though this Adrian, this strange man, had become a complex riddle of mind shattering proportions that the behemoth struggled to piece together.

Eventually the team of keepers grew increasingly nervous at the giant's unnatural quietness. They started to tug at him to get him moving, and the giant slowly found his feet again. But his gaze never left Adrian's face. The only movement of his head was to nod once to him, before he finally was pulled into the building and out of sight. A final, unasked question laid on the giant's mind as he descended into the darkness.

Who are you?

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya
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The giant man stopped and stood like a mountain, staring down upon Adrian. All seemed to be silent save for the noises of the small city just beyond the walls, all eyes on him and the titan. The only gaze that mattered to Adrian at the moment however was that of the armored soul before him. The big man looked down at him with what seemed like intense curiosity, as if trying to answer an important question by simply looking at Adrian hard enough.

As the titan eventually let his keepers take him away (much to Adrian's ire) the juggernaut gave the Prince a curt nod. And like that an understanding between them was formed, an understanding that Adrian planned on exploring to a greater degree. To himself, "Randy it is than." Adrian smirked, it seemed like he'd garnered more reaction out of the titan than anyone here had yet.

Watching the big man recede into darkness with some agitation, but unwilling to cause more of a scene (at least at the moment) whilst a job was at hand, Adrian focused his attention on the Deadmen caravan only to find, to little surprise, that all eyes were on him. Collecting himself, Adrian strolled over to those who seemed to hold the most importance, Nimba close behind and waving his cloak toward him irritably in a silent, “Take your damned thing, wey'ho!”

Once at a respectful distance – and newly cloaked – he bowed his head, ever the gentleman, only to be greeted by the imbecilic wizard, "You're an Abbeni, I can tell." The fool hissed in scorn. Abbeni was the dominant ethnicity within Abbedon and was often used as way of an slur by those who held an dim view on the Empire. "Damn Imperials. Scum, the lot of you! Always interfering where you don't belong!" And with that the fool spit on Adrian's boots. Adrian stared at the man for a long while, not saying a single word or lifting a single finger. No emotion visible on his person.

Taking a step forward, Adrian simply smiled and turned his head to the fair woman who called out to him before. With a bow, "To answer your previous query, I do indeed have business with you. I trust milady is a more civilized individual than the lot around you? I tire of the rabble, as you might understand."

Nimba mumbled, “Oh, yeah. Good way to get them on your side.”

Adrian only smirked.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: Eolan Kalris Character Portrait: Ransu Svar
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Nimba's attention was pulled away by another voice. This man looked be a wizard himself, after a fashion, but.. something about him seemed far less bigoted and belligerent. She turned to face him directly, her head shifting to the side a little in a quizzical examination of him. "Yi Aba, yeah. I don't think anyone's called us 'Abarran' since the Carthim dissolved Abarra," she said with a hoarse chuckle, the raging buffoon nearby slipping from her mind. "Didn't really expect anyone to my notice ethnicity this far from Abbedon, especially not by our old name," she admitted with a shrug. Before he could reply, her attention was pulled back to Adrian and the Deadmen. She nodded to the wizard and chased after her comrade waving his cloak at him. He finally took it off her hand, and she stood a few feet behind him silently, until he tried - at least - to make friends with the soldiers. She scoffed at his attempt, rolling her eyes incredulously. This was going nowhere fast, and she was losing interest, at least up until one of the Deadmen addressed her directly. Her head snapped around, eyes fastening coldly onto the girl. "She must think I'm a proper idiot who goes around starting fights," she said, but speaking to Adrian and not the soldier. "I don't throw the first punch," this to the girl, "But your friend the old fool there seems like the kind who might," she snickered.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Alexa Morrow Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya
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As the lady folk did their thing, Adrian walked up to the fair barmaid who was rightly shaken. Nodding his head respectfully and speaking softly, "Sorry for the trouble, miss. I wished no misfortune to befall your fine establishment." He owed nothing to the Deadmen woman who seemed to command the others - no allegiances, no nothing. Whilst he would speak to her in time about the matter at hand, it was the innocents among them that warranted his attention. Or at least the barmaid. Adrian never could stand a lady in distress. Kissing her hand, "I will of course help clean up the mess that I aided in causing. It's the least I can do in penance."

Before another word was spoken what could only be described as horns seemed to fill the air from every direction. Beautiful and alien. A low bass otherworldly sound that nearly shook the very fabric of existence. As if the world itself could not comprehend what was uttered before it. And with that godly sound came a sensation of utter power that washed over the world and made Adrian fall to his knees. It appeared as if he was not the only one as every inhabitant of the inn was either on the ground or propping themselves up, some passed out like the barmaid before him.

The horns seemed to change tunes; quieter, and with it the atmosphere altered. Gaining some of his strength Adrian stumbled to the door along with several others...only to look up in awe. Before his eyes twisted and swirled a violent storm of clouds, blue lightening striking down haphazardly. And yet there was no thunder, no wind, no rain. No noise. Time itself seemed to follow the whim of those horns.

It was almost.. soothing.

Forcing himself to tear his eyes away and look around - everywhere he looked those who had not lost consciousness peered up at the vortex. Few were standing, many on the ground or holding themselves against something but most unconscious. No urge to panic, no will go flee. As if a divine orchestrator held his mortal audience in their seats by his otherworldly symphony.

The shaking of the earth took to a new high as the horns played several new notes - playing to a song that only it seemed to understand. The sense of overwhelming power returned in force with the song, magnified to new folds and yet...Adrian did not collapse or lose consciousness as he expected should have occurred. His body seemingly held firm by an unknown will.

The symphony grew stronger as the eye of the storm began to open to let past four pitch black spheres of stone- once free they shot off at unimaginable speeds only to stop cold at a distance Adrian could not accurately judge. Then descended a great white obelisk in the shape of a rectangle. It looked of sandstone and to Adrian's mind it seemed like perfection itself. As if all the architects of the world could not even begin to conceive a form so perfect; so without flaw or blemish!

And what came next was so knowable yet so hard to believe that Adrian's mind nearly went numb: Seven glowing silver gears that materialized from nothingness and interlocked with one another, turning effortlessly amongst themselves. As the black spheres began to circle the collection of gears the symphony of horns felt as if it had come to its climax.

Several moments of silence passed, and then the alien horns made one last, extending note and finally...silence. Complete and utter hush fell across the city, like a blanket lowered to stifle all noise.

To Gaudis, it felt like all of Vasquera had stopped to observe what descended from the divine.

At once Adrian regained some of his sense of motion, he slowly turned away from the entity in the sky and looked around. Few looked to have peeled their eyes away from what lay above them. Touching his cheek Adrian realized he was crying. Everyone seemed to be crying. As if the entity's appearance brought them all to tears.

Gradually Adrian's wits returned, his subconscious providing the answers that his conscious mind was not yet willing to understand. He...he knew what this was. He had read about it long ago, but never even considered he would one day experience it. What floated before them like a god in the presence of ants was what scholars dreamed of seeing. What stood in no pantheon nor was spoken of in any legends. A phenomenon of such tremendous proportions that it was only spoken of in whispers among the learned in their keeps- the laymen never wishing to speak of such a thing. Such a wonder.

An unknown.

A Monolith.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Randle Ludak
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#, as written by Wake
In the darkness below the divisions barracks, the armored giant sat quietly. His thoughts drifting back to the strange man he had met earlier that day. And more importantly to what he had said.

Randy

No one in the entirety of the world knew of that names significances to him. In his silent contemplation he clutched the massive blade at his side closer. Hugging it and seeking it's comforting presence at his side as he drifted off to sleep. For how long he slumbered, he didn't know. But he awoke to the sound of screaming.

He jolted back to consciousness s the world around him shook as though it were being torn apart. lights danced across his vision and a searing heat washed over him. Hands. Hands attached to spectral creatures that were simultaneously freezing to the touch, yet burning at the feel. They seeped through the walls, ceiling and floors. They grabbed at him, pulling and tearing.

No. Not at him. At the sword in his hands.

"WEEEeeeE!" Hissed a voice. It was all around him, both a choir yet a single sound. "We existed looOOoong before." The specter's hands latched onto the blade. The voices grew. Like nails grinding and pounding into his ears. "YOU. Child of the IMPUDENT ONE. You have no plaaaAaace among usssss." They pulled and pulled with such force, nearly wrenching the sword from his grip and he himself off the ground.

The screaming. He heard it again. Like child crying in fear and shrieking in pain.

He felt as though his blood was boiling from the rage. How dare they. HOW DARE THEY! The runes carved into his flesh went neon bright in their dark brilliance, drowning out all the other lights in the holds with their blood red shine. He opened his mouth and let out a mighty roar so loud it could startle the dead.

BEGONE

Hatred. It burned inside of him with a fury he never experienced before. It exuded out of him like fiery waves. So strong was the force of concentrated hatred that the chains that bound him cracked and withered to dust. The hands retreated, cowed by the overwhelming presence.

And the giant fell back into the Darkness. No, not fell. He was pulled into it.

Run

The giant stood. Staggering in confusion and surrounded by the inky black void.

Run

He perked his head up as he heard a new voice in his head.

Run

He knew that voice.

RUN! RUN YOU FOOL RUN!

He obeyed. He ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He ran as though the hounds of hell were chasing him. He ran, for the first time in a long time, with an unabashed, abject, terror clutching his heart.

RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN

And then the inky black darkness was gone, and he was standing in the streets in front of the division barracks. Wasn't his cell locked? Hadn't he been below ground? It was as if he had taken one step in the void, and then another back out into the world above.

He didn't have time to ponder this. An unholy sound echoed above him. He looked up to see the monolith towering high in the sky. It was only then that he noticed the chaos around him. The shouting. The screams. The rush of moving forms and flailing bodies. And once again he was told...

Run

And so he did. But from what he couldn't say.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Agnes Aramor Character Portrait: Eolan Kalris
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#, as written by Mosinau
Eolan took off without a word, deftly weaving through the remaining townsfolk at almost a gallop, Agnes following close behind. He knew they probably had only minutes to spare, and there was no telling how far from the town they would need to get to be safe; if the hybrid was uncooperative, he would have to leave him behind to ensure his own survival.
When he located Randle, he seemed to be lumbering around blindly, chased by the aged enforcer they had met upon their return.
Ignoring the man, who seemed wholly lucid already, Eolan called out, "Halfman! It is no longer safe here; you must leave the city at once!" As he turned to continue toward the gate, Darkus let loose another bolt of electricity toward Randle and yelled to them, "FOOLS! Help me bring the beast down before he can do any more damage!"
Without hesitation, Eolan gripped his staff with both hands and twisted in his saddle, striking the oaf across the side of the head with a lour crack and sending him to the ground, where he lay still. There was no helping it, if he was going to hinder their escape as well as his own. He looked back at Randle, who had been stopped momentarily by the spell, unsure if he could understand them in his current state. "You will be safe if you choose to come with us." he said quietly, and with that, turned his horse around and galloped through the nearby gate, down the road, and toward the silhouettes atop the first rise.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Alexa Morrow Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya Character Portrait: David Hayes
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#, as written by Aporia
Just as David had gotten the horses to calm down, a couple of figures climbed their way onto the front of the wagon, one an older man of perhaps 50 with his hair greying and balding, the other a muscled 20 something with short hair. Now that he thought about it, they seemed to be father and son, thinking to take the wagon as their own. They charged the one-armed shepherd unexpectedly, one on each side as David was about to move the wagon. The father thought to put David in a masterlock, lifting up his right arm, but the sleeve where the shepherd's arm would have been was empty, the limp arm tucked inside his robes, the lock now useless as the younger attacker reared back his arm for a wild punch.

His fist went straight into the face of his old man, breaking his nose and teeth with a vicious crack as David ducked low and bobbed back up with a punch below the belt of the son. The old man held his broken face in his hands, his screams muffled as he stepped back while the son doubled over and the shepherd with the reigns still wrapped wrapped around his arm made the horses go with a start. The sudden movement of the wagon caused the two men to lose their footing and fall as the wagon slowly yet surely sped up to that of a gallop out of town, weighed down by whoever-else jumped in the back while they had the chance.

The reigns dug in the shepherd's arm and his fingers ached at every movement of the horse yet he still held onto the reigns for every sound that bellowed from the monolith. David could feel it's hot glare on his back like the embers among ash that sprung forth from its eyes. When he looked forward and not to his own feet, he could see the giant that reduced him to his one arm, and the mage that kept him from bleeding out from that same wound.

The time for dialogue wasn't then and the shepherd kept his eyes straight ahead as he passed them when they stopped, galloping with the red-stained wheels of the wagon beyond the gate, towards the silhouetted figures ahead. A target that wasn't the endless sand horizon and a direction farther from whatever horrors would land on Gaudis.

It was then, that David could feel the tremors underneath the ground, and instantly his head reared back to the monolith in the crippling fear that it was touched the earth but yet it remained, still watching from above. In the longest time since he was a child, his lips let loose to a voiceless prayer, half of the words forgotten but that desperate and helpless feeling in his heart as he prayed to the goddess Tyr. She was the goddess that his family prayed to, though for the life of the shepherd at his young age, he didn't know why. Tyr was a goddess of protection and for what he lived, there was no ill will towards the farm, no marauders razing the lands, no threat of their lives. The boy just thought it to be a waste for Tyr to be looking after a family that didn't need the protection instead of helping those who needed it. His first idea was to counter-pray his family for Tyr to look after others but he was beaten by their sheer number. Then another idea came to mind. He'd hide the replica statue of the goddess that the family used to pray.

The replica of Tyr was a copper green, the most expensive thing in the house, which did well to show the goddess's prominent and...womanly features. David hid the small statue under the floorboards of the house, where it wouldn't ever be seen again, hoping Tyr would help someone else. After he seperated from home and became stronger, he hadn't the need to pray to any such gods, always having the confidence in himself.

And yet now...crippled and running away from this supernatural power, the regret ran deep, and now, all he can hope for was that Gods can forgive and intervene.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Alexa Morrow Character Portrait: Kryssis Wyvernjack Character Portrait: Adrian Ronuad des MĂ stoof Character Portrait: Nimba Hawteeya
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Well....that was different. The newcomer certainly had an...interesting...introduction. If his memory served him right, and he liked to think it did, she was a vida. A member of one of the Three Empires - which? He wasn't sure. All that was important that she was here and that meant another soul to worry about. Adrian had half a mind to simply leave with Nimba in tow - these peoples' lives were not his responsibility nor was he theirs. Their lives meant little to him by comparison.

Yet, despite the situation, Adrian couldn't help but chuckle at this woman's words. Stepping up to her, "I'm afraid not, my dear. Though, I'm sure we can quench your thirst later. For now, we must leave for safer parts. We are not welcome here," he locked eyes to every member of the assembled cast, directing his words to them all, "We've been here far too long." Looking back at the fair vida, "I will see to it that your thirst is satisfied in due time, miss." Though his posture commanding and his tone serious and direct, Adrian sensed a bit of flirtatious flare creeping into his tone. It was damn well instinctual to flirt with a pretty woman by this point. Call it an defense mechanism or, more aptly, a reflex.

Before further words could be exchanged, the violent shaking of the ground intensified, making the horses stumble and he (and everyone else) fall to their knees. It felt like a damned earthquake. Growling, Adrian spat in the sand. Cursing fate for bringing him to this gods forsaken land. His frustration was getting the better of him but he reined it in. He had to remain calm if he hoped to get Nimba, himself and - much to his ire - the rest of them out of there. Still, "By Ninous' bosom, what now?" It was a light curse but his nerves felt better for uttering it. He noticed several new people fleeing but it didn't put his mind at all at ease. A token few out of hundreds meant nothing.

And then, with an audible tearing, the earth split open to unleash a monstrosity of legends. A beast of the earth not seen in hundred of years now unbound from whatever slumber it once held to meet the floating entity in the sky.

A Hareton Worm.

The sheer size of the thing was staggering, what could only be a small part of the worm was visible, yet it was larger than a healthy chunk of the city. For a moment the ground stopped shaking as the gargantuan worm seemed to stare at the Monolith before letting lose an deep bellow - what sounded like a twisted version of a whale's call - so different than the alien symphony of the Monolith. The glowing orange marks scattered across its gray skin seemingly brightening in challenge.

Adrian could do nothing but watch as the two entities faced off - the Hareton Worm quelling in anger and challenge, a stark contrast to the Monolith's cool indifference. With a sharp roar the Worm shook the earth as it charged. Crashing through the city, annihilating everything in its path as it approached the floating entity. So many lives silenced in its destructive wake and yet Adrian could hear no panic, see no one else attempt to flee from the new threat.

The Worm then pounded itself against the Monolith's magnificent sandstone marker with such force that Adrian could hear the impact from where he stood...only to crash back down into the city - crushing buildings and people alike as if they where nothing. As for the Monolith? As far as he could tell the Worm's charge had had no effect at all, it simply sat where it appeared like an unmovable pillar. Its only movement the ever present rolling of gears and circling of its stone spheres.

Unwavering, the Worm crashed itself against the Monolith again and again. Destroying more and more of the city as it assaulted the ever quiet Monolith. After minutes of this the beast latched onto the Monolith's pillar before snaking it's way around it - seemingly intent on crushing the Monolith under the sheer force of it's vise. And still...nothing.

Moments past and finally....the Monolith sang. One long, steady and painfully deep note that seemed to sink into Adrian's very soul. It hurt him, made his ears bleed and yet....it was calming. As if preparing him for what's to come. In the back of his mind he felt another presence, different from the alien Monolith; protective. It seemed to wrap itself around him as a mother would protect her child from a coming threat.

At long last the Monolith's song ended and with it came the customary silence. No, it was more than that. Time itself seemed to stop in its wake. Even the once ever-moving Hareton Worm was still, wrapped around the stone obelisk. The entire world stopped by the Monolith's song.

And for what felt like a sickeningly long period of time, but could have only been moments, the stillness remained. The floating entity seemingly the only one allowed motion. And finally...as if the unknown being bored of the silence and the stillness...Adrian heard waves.

The sound of ocean waves! Thoughts of his past flooded his mind, memories of playing with his mother and sisters at the sea, sparring with friends on the beach, making love as the sea breeze swept by. It made Adrian long for home. But..but how could this be? They were so very far away from the ocean.

And then dawned a horrific realization: That was not the sound of waves hitting the shore. No, no, it was the falling of sand.

The Hareton Worm - the city of Gaudis itself - was breaking into sand. Flesh, blood, rock and bone. All fell in glittering piles of sand. It was almost beautiful; the last rays of the setting sun and the unearthly glow of the Monolith's gears reflecting off the falling grains in glittering majesty. Beautiful. Terrible; horrifying...but beautiful.

It took more than ten minutes for it all to settle to the ground and for more than ten minutes he and everyone else watched. Watched as dozens, hundreds! of years of history and the might of one of the world's wonders fall into dust. Thousands of lives - gone. There was nothing left but sparkling sand.

And all that remained was the Monolith. Resting in the air in indifferent alien majesty. A force of such absolute power that for a moment he thought even the gods were looking upon the scene in awe. The sands below reflecting light up upon it in a glorious display.

The Monolith's song a gift and a curse. The symphony of the cosmos to part the silence of the grave.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Trista Anerwyn Character Portrait: Randle Ludak Character Portrait: Agnes Aramor
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Trista Anerwyn


Trista found herself looking back toward the city. Noise permeated the air again, this time several notches more powerful than the last. She stared unblinkingly as the town crumbled, a calm stillness in her eyes as she watched. She did not have many fond memories of that place and felt nothing for those who had remained, unable or unwilling to flee. Though it was not a common sight, the spectacle was not enough to keep her interest. Even with the Monolith’s last, most resounding note, all she could gather was that her initial fear had completely escaped from her system. What spark of humanity that had entered her mind vanished and she made no note of it, simply turning her head away. Things were as they should be.

Agnes rubbed her fingers together and squinted, touching her ear again. A shiver tingled her body and the words to describe the feeling seemed out of her reach. She only grinned slightly to herself, wiping the blood from her hands. “Now look what that stupid worm’s gone and done. Here’s to hoping this doesn’t mean my brain’s leaking out from my ears, because the last one I came across didn’t let people off so easily.”

“A Monolith?” Trista asked, her gaze shifting to the enforcer.

“At least that’s what I think it was, couldn’t say for sure myself,” she shrugged. “It was all just pure speculation at that point. For all I know, we could’ve been wasted on Vynard mead and threw each around imagining the whole thing, but the image of an enormous glowing face with wings and an array of floating stones surrounding it doesn’t wash away so easily, especially not with more alcohol. On another note, I don’t think I’ll be missing this place very much. This place is too damn hot and it’s hard to find any good food around at a reasonable price. And what the hell happened to you anyway? You look like you tried to force yourself through barbed wire.”

Trista had stopped listening halfway, inspecting the badge she had plucked from her armor, turning it over to the back. Were it not for the inscribed runes that helped her stay in one piece as a Deadman, she would’ve gladly tossed it as far as her strength would permit. Instead, she pocketed it for safe keeping. No need to cause trouble by wandering around an unfamiliar place and letting everyone know that she was essentially a walking corpse. Some people could be very edgy.