Introduction
The Garden is a massive world, designed around guilds, βGamesβ of all types and used to test the mundane to the greatest demons in creation. The Garden itself is a fantastical bright and fantasy-esque world akin to Wonderland and other High/Bright Fantasy worlds you can imagineβ¦at least in some places. In others it more reflects a Post apocalyptic Fantasy land-scape, perhaps that in itself is a wonderland, especially if one is familiar with American McGeeβs Wonderlandian world of psychological disturbtion (I just made a wordβ¦yes, yes I did). The latter places are where great battles have been conducted, or Demon Lords have forced Guilds into cruel Guild games of their own design.
There are Various Cityβs around the place but no small towns, and Guilds have either buildings, large tracts of lands or entire sections of The Garden that they call their own, some even reside in other dimensions. The Garden itself on a map would be a flat square shaped world, however it functions as if it were a globe when travelling along its length. The world is four times as large as that we know and so various quick and possibly even instant means of transportation are availableβ¦for a price.
Technology
Technology in the little garden is some-what tricky, Powers and Genetic Changes play a big a role in society and combat as Technology does and so the lines have begun to blur. Especially considering Technology and people from nearly every time period seem to be cultivating in The Garden without affecting any city or groups advantages over others. The Garden remains in a constant balance when it comes to Technology, that is not to say that there is not more advanced tech elsewhere or expensive and hard to access materials available to the highest bidder. It is more to say that a Guild or Cityβs standing is not ranked or even reliant on it.
The Story
The story itself will revolve around peoples OCβs and their guild, The Nameless. A guild that was wiped out by a Demon Lord and is only just beginning to rise again, they have very few people who can participate in the games and despite owning a large piece of The Garden they have barely any resources as the land itself has been turned barren and lifeless. All the rewards they earnt in previous games removed and stolen along with their banner and several members of higher rank.
The characters will hopefully come from all walks of life and various time-lines if they so choose and will be tasked with rising in the ranks and participating in Guild Games to regain the guilds status and earn rewards to rebuild the land-scape. However, at any time the characters may leave the original guild and join another that they think will suit them and their needs better, in fact doing so will help add some interesting plot points to the role-play.
The characters will of course begin from the bottom and will be relatively weak and new to their powers/weaponry of choice. In most cases at least, things will depend on what people ask about etc, I am planning to accept as many PMβs as people send and answer any questions people have about characters or anything they themselves wish to do in the RP.
The (Perhaps evil) Plan
Well, the plan is to make this an extremely long-lasting and expanding role-play. That eventually spans across various genreβs and across many re-incarnations / new role-plays within the same world and after the events of the previous. Hopefully starring the same or at least some of the original characters, at least as NPCβs but hopefully as advancing/ leading characters. Albeit new characters could join etc through out and if anyones character had died or left the party the role-player is free to re-join as another if they so choose.
Regardless, the plan is to create an extremely long lasting and evolving story in the same world, one that gets more complex and in depth as time goes on. One that has characters you become attached to and that creates a sense of awe as the world expands and changes drastically.
For post size I expect at least 2-3 paragraphs per post, far less for fights between two player characters for quick exchanges, and 4 paragraphs minimum for important or drastically influential posts.
Character Skeleton
[Personal Detail]
Name:
Age: (Relatively young for your race/species please, it helps to evolve characters more as time flows)
Place of Birth:
Personality: (Description of a paragraph or more please)
Appearance: (Description of a paragraph or more please. I'd also like a picture if you so please.)
Spoken Languages:
Theme Song: (Entirely optional, if you think a song may help sum up your character or hint to things in the future)
[Combat Section] (Try not to just fill this section up with whatever so you can have one in every slot, think about your character deeply. and remove stuff you don't need for them.)
Weapons:
Powers:
Technology:
Skills:
Proficiency:
[Back-story]
Father:
Mother:
Connections and Affiliations:
History prior to The Garden:
Feel free to add or remove and make this look far better then it does, this is a straight up out-line of what I would like for you to have on your CS and I do some-what expect more variety and changes to be made however its fine to just stick with this as well.
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 15 authors
At the same time, however, he felt his eyesight and hearing suddenly amplify greatly, and the aches from the various scrapes and slashes he had acquired from enemies that managed to land hits on him while he was trying to set them on fire vanished. One of Irina's curses, it seemed...of course, he wasn't about to thank her, and she never would have accepted his thanks anyway.
"Shit, though, looks like I got a bit too flame-happy earlier...I'm almost out of energy now." Raising his sword in his right hand again, he thrust out his left hand, and some of the flames that he had thrown around the battlefield suddenly spiraled towards him, reforming his signature flame aura. Conserving energy was probably better against this opponent. Then he began to--
But the robot moved first, landing directly next to Irina and blasting steam at her at point blank range. For a few moments, Niko's mind actually blanked out with terror when it landed directly in front of him, before he suddenly was aware of what was going on and leapt backwards, putting distance between himself and the robot. "So that's how it's going to be played, is it?" he muttered, his grip tightening on his sword. Hope you didn't get yourself killed, Irina.
With his blade glowing red-hot from the absorbed flames, Niko let out a yell and charged.
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
"I'm so full of shit." He chuckled out wryly, the heat of his breath singing the filter of his cigarette, and looking almost like he was smoking it backwards. He crept up to the first turn in the maze, and was preparing to turn the corner when the wall he was leaning against went stupid, and forgot just what it was to be a wall. That is to say, it stopped being solid, turned yellow and soon after, dissipated all together. Needless to say he nearly fell.
βCalled off my ass.β He muttered, already trying to figure out their angle, obviously we're under attack, he thought. You yourself had said we should use lethal force. No this had to be another test. One to weed out the weak willed. Who could say if the portals actually sent people home? For all Wayland knew, they sent people to some far off prison, or into the heart of a star.
He eyed the approaching βarmy' of shadows, they were definitely laying it on thick, he thought. Standing casually his cigarette lit now as he some times actually smoked them when he was thinking.
βBullshit.β He grumbled, eyes narrowing, analyzing all of the people who had bought into the ruses powers, he might have to fight them later. The shadows were truly terrifying, they set his teeth on edge, truly an excellent illusion. They even smelled, and the weight of the weapons history unsettled him.
βWait, what?β He did a double take, watching a man dig a hole and cover himself in mud, though that's not what caused him to stop, no it was the beasts approaching him. Or, more accurately, there weapons, they were real, not fake, he could see their history, practically taste it as he drowned in the sea of blood spilled by this putrid creature, His lip pulled back away from his teeth in a near silent snarl, showing every one of his razor sharp teeth. The very sword he was so enraptured by was an ugly, filthy thing, but it was impossible, illusions have no history. Then the blade fell, and he was convinced.
He barely brought his arm up in time to block the blade, even still it bit down to the bone, sparking as metal hit metal, the blade turning cherry red as the super heated nature of his blood vented on the foreign metal. He didn't have time to think, all thoughts of this being a test fleeing his mind as instinct kicked in and a roar like a diesel tank coming to life echoed across the battlefield, accompanied by the smell of fire, ash, and burning flesh.
He drove his weight forward into the shadow before him, its blade finally losing the battle to the heat, and slagging into molten steel across his arm which was assimilated to heal his wound. He was met by a shield. It lasted about as long as you'd expect against someone whose blood could melt swords.
He dug his talons into it. The shield had no innate magic of its own to repel him, so he took it, and he turned it against its master. The shield warped in on itself, the edges turning back and turning thorny, digging into the inky flesh of his enemy, but it didn't fall, not until his talons found purchase in its throat, ripping, gouging and tearing with all his might, with animalistic ferocity, and a growl that would be feral if not for it sounding like a roaring engine, that would terrify him later, but for now, as he tore one of the shadows heads from it's torso, and threw it to the ground at his feet, he felt more alive than he could ever remember being.
His enemies had not been idle however. As he was reveling in his kill, three more beast had advanced on him. Swords digging in to his side, and his back, where his kidney should have been, he couldn't be killed by such mundane means, well not in such small numbers, but it still hurt.
The force of the strikes made his head pitch forward into the path of the next sword, the third and final sword, it's history just as vial as the last, he hated them, the swords more than those that wielded them, they were abominable. It was aimed to sever his head through his mouth, that was not a wound he was eager to test his survivability against.
βLook what I caught.β He mouthed around he blade clenched in his teeth, his own blood dribbling into his mouth, and being absorbed in a perpetual cycle, the sword cut his cheek open giving him a wide joker smile, the Shadow struggled the pull the blade free, but he wouldn't have it, he bit through the blade, and with a maniacal laugh full of blood lust, and a roar of adulation, he tore the shadows throat out with his teeth, while still impaled by its allies.
He wasted little time after that in turning their blades against them, taking a number of wounds of his own in the process, but in his mind it was a foregone conclusion. Like the sun rising, or setting. As sure as those two things, these things would die. He headed where he'd seen the ogre set a girl down, as the rabbit lady was over there too. He probably should head over to help kill the leader, but if they needed him for that, they'd say so.
βIt's about time I made myself useful.β He said, and strode with grim purpose towards the main battlefield, and his allies therein.
The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden
Pestel had been peacefully humming to himself below the mage, preparing to bite off his foot in a horrible manner and decaying, rotting and otherwise passing on diseasesining. When suddenly a fat oaf in a suit tried to take his precious mace from him within his own confined little space, he was even covered in mud, was he mocking Pestel? The bastard was mocking him, nobody mocks Pestel!
The Rat decided that he'd bite their foot off another time, for as he struggled with the mace and the man he had his usual set of stunning ideas. His tail snaking to his waist and pulling open a few vials half-embedded in his fur and stuck in the black muck that lay there, the smell of gasoline and pure petroleum gas filling the air and suffocating the tunnel. A small green light flitting from the top of a mace for a moment before the rodent grinned.
He was losing the battle for control of the mace, but he would win the war. He released the weapon to the man and watched as the magical flame within leaped in to the air. "Ba-Boom!" was all he said before the cubby hole would erupt in a small explosion, more kinetic energy and fire then anything, but still effective.
The Rat would be nowhere to be seen, except a small bug now flitted onto the enemy leaders hand, resting on a now open palm and receiving a curt nod.
It all happened rather quickly. From Pravus's point of view the entire tunnel had flooded with fire. The reality of the situation was that the gasoline and petroleum the rat had emptied mixed into the air before igniting. From the point of view of the others who were currently fighting the plague beast the opening of the tunnel spouted a pillar of fire before collapsing into a depression in the earth. Between the fire and the collapsing earth it would be easy to assume that Pravus was no more.
That result was not as likely as it would seem. You see, gasoline does not explode in it's liquid state. It's the result of gasoline mixing with the air, becoming a gas, that causes the big explosions attributed to the substance. In combat almost all one on one conflicts are resolved in second, not minutes. The time the gasoline and petroleum had to mingle with the air was minimal at best, not to mention the already scarce amount of air available inside the tunnel. Between the low concentration of gasoline and all the given factors acting upon it's diffusion speed the explosions potency was relatively low. It still exploded and it did damage Pravus but the harm it had done to him was far from disabling. What was the real problem however was the fact that it burns really fast. The tunnel would of become a crematorium for him had it not been for one last detail. The kinetic force of the explosion had damaged the adhesive the rat left to stabilize the tunnel, causing the walls and roof to collapse upon them.
There are very few flames persistent enough to continue burning after being buried in mud. Without air to consume any flame short of earth blood*, pure alchemical fire or hell fire dies out. This proved to be the majority rather than the exception when several pounds of soft wet mud came crashing down, trapping Pravus and smothering the flames. The threat of being eaten by the flames was gone but now he had a new trial to face: The earth's grip.
In the ground, nothing but darkness to stare into, Pravus did think. Perhaps this is the grave I have been seeking? Have I finally lived out my duty? Maybe I should just close my eyes and welcome the peace. He simply closed his eyes and attempted to rest, feeling as though perhaps this was how it was meant to be. In darkness he lay, his mind attempting to finally conceive of the freedom of death.
...
No. His body began to move, to struggle once more, a weapon in each hand. This is no death. My soul has not left this cursed body of mine. My duty is not yet done.
As he realized his time in atonement had yet to be finished he started fighting his way through the mud. Though it pressed upon him with great weight he felt no effort, exerting his full might through the soft, mushy soil. inch by inch, meter by meter he made space enough to move. Where he was moving was unknown. Without a point of reference up and down were now as distinct as the color of his suit in this darkness, which is to say not at all. Whether he was digging to freedom or towards the heart of the earth itself it did not matter. So long as the necromancy which animated him gave him life he would dig until he arrived at a destination.
As the rain of smoke and mud settled on the scene above it was all but apparent there were no survivors, just a ditch where the battle had taken place below. At least, that was until the mud within the ditch began to bulge. A fist literally coated in mud erupted forth, in it's grip the glowing mace of their enemy. The other hand emerged, in it's fist the shovel of the Grave Diggers. Slowly a form rose from the cold sticky ground, something that looked like an earth golem molded into the shape of a beaked scarecrow. This humanoid form began to slowly march it's way straight towards the magus, it's stride rich with determination.
Standing right in front of the magus this tall figure dripping with mud loomed. From within the familiar voice of Pravus rumbled forth. "Can you draw power from this?" His words muffled by the muddied mask but clear enough from the distance he stood from him to be understandable. The arm clutching the glowing mace raised up before the magus. He released his grip on the weapon, allowing the foul weapon to crash back into the mud, splatting some up a bit at the allied spell caster. "If you can... Suck it dry." His words were cold and menacing, more so than usual. He reached up with his now free hand and wiped the mud off the cracked lenses of his mask. He pulled the shards out and discarded them. Now he could see fine and although liquids could seep through the eye holes now the metal bars would still keep weapons from reaching his eyes.
He took a moment to check the damage he sustained from the blast. For the most part it was nothing worth noting. There was one little problem however. Unluckily for Pravus one of his hand's fingers were mangled in the blast. Luckily for Pravus his main hand was mostly undamaged. He had a temporary remedy for this quandary, one that still left something to be desired in terms of combat efficiency but worked which was what mattered. He took a leather strap from his belt container and began to tie his spear to him. He tethered one end to the spear and another he looped through a hole in his chain mail where one of the links had broken, leaving a gap. Now if an enemy happened to knock his weapon from his grasp it would simply dangle at his side, waiting to be used once again.
With great gravitas he slowly turned from the magus to face the swordswoman, her spirit Myon and the monkey.
"Come. The next enemy awaits." With that said he simply walked past, his destination in clear sight.
His next enemy: The metal monster which was disrupting their forces.
(*Lava.)
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
Then the ghost came up from the ground and 'spoke' to Ivan. "Hello, Mistress Aera says the rat is currently underneath her feet. She has an idea she wanted to run by you. Would you be able to channel your magic through the spear so that when Mistress strikes, the magic hits first to weaken and then the spear hits during the weakness. If you are unable to do so, Mistress will strike first so that the rat surfaces allowing you to strike it." The reason why she had send the ghost was clear, the rat was following their conversation from below.
"Well then, I suppose there is nothing we can do besides wait for that rat to resurface. And my name is Ivan, nice to meet you." He said as he walked towards the girl. Just in case the rat was listening to what he said, he didn't want to say anything that it could use to his advantage. He took two of the crystals in his hand and with the help of some ice connected them to the tip of the spear. He then ran his finger over one of them, forming a soft crackling sound of lightning. Hopefully that would convey to the girl what he had done to the spear.
But before either had a chane to do anything against the rat an explosion sounded, flames rose from the tunnel entrance blowing it open for a second before the tunnel collapsed in on itself completely. He assumed both to be dead after the blast, or to be dead as they ere burried alive. But then a bulge of mud rose from the ditch and the rats mace rose forth out of the bulge. "Even this wan't enough to kill that rotten beast?" Ivan thought as the mace rose up from the mud. Quickly thereafter he was set at ease by the rest of the masked man rising fromth ditch, holding the mace of is fallen foe in his hand.
The man walked towards Ivan and as he stood right before him he asked him with a mud muffled voice: "Can you draw power from this?" He then dropped the mace into the mud, causing some of it to splatter onto Ivan. "If you can... Suck it dry." He then followed up with a cold menacing tone. Matching the masked man with an equally cold tone as he slowly picked up the mace Ivan said: "The energy within this mace is a bounty, it will serve me well."
After the man fixed up his mangled finger and fixed the weapon to his mail he turned to the warriors of the group and said: "Come. The next enemy awaits." He then walked on with a gaze set on the metalic creature in the distance. Realising that going into another fight would be a bad idea in his state Ivan spoke to the ghost, swordswoman and the monkey: "I need to go back to the defence line to have a healer check the muscle damage to my arms, but in my current state I won't be able to make it back alone. Would one of you be so kind as to escort me back to the defence line?"
"Mistress! The rat is gonna explode the tunnel! You must leave!"
"Crap! I need to borrow your powers Myon!"
Myon screamed at her Mistress, warning her of the danger in which she is standing on top of. Aera screamed back at her, with a request of borrowing her other half's powers. As she 'thought' with Myon, Aera expended some of her own life force to merge her body with Myon's without her permission. Having gained such a ghostly body, the explosion had no effect on her and simply phased through her.
Seeing as the danger had passed she released her hold on this strange ability. Aera was a bit dizzy having lost some of her own life force. She could feel her heart beat slower and her knees buckled slightly. The spear had gone flying from the blast but ended up behind Ivan, just barely missing him.
"I-Ivan.... before you...siphon the energy out of that mace... shouldn't you protect yourself from it's..corruption? A-After all... It did belong to some rat..."
"I need to go back to the defense line to have a healer check the muscle damage to my arms, but in my current state I won't be able to make it back alone. Would one of you be so kind as to escort me back to the defense line?"
"You are in need of an escort? I'll be glad to help you Ivan! ehehe. "
Myon giggled as she agreed to helping Ivan back to the defense line. Myon seemed...more faded than normal, she didn't seem to notice so maybe it is nothing. Myon hovered next to Ivan and awaited instructions as of what to do next. In the meantime, Aera had followed Pravus. Seems she was determined to fight until her last breath.
Tiotioβs concern that sheβd lost an ally was abated when the man in the beak mask emerged, looking at first like a sentient mass of mud. He and the magic man, who named himself as Ivan, exchanged words, before the masked man, still heavily caked in mud, made for the next enemy leader.
Considering that her efforts might be as fruitless against the metal monster as they had been against the rat, she opted to assist Ivan back to a healer. She leapt in front of him. Her minor injuries were compounding, and though she was only vaguely aware of the pain, each wound weakened her. Even the periodic waves of magical aid were not enough to keep up with the damage. She opted to rely on her gusts of wind to make a path back to the defensive line.
The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden
Although now it seemed they didn't want him to shoot his gun anymore, "Oh well, no bother! I only had... um... some bullets left. Maybe I should keep track of munitions better!" Dan blurted out a hearty laugh as he trotted his way to firmly plant his fisticuffs into some of the husk-like chaps. Shoving his gun into the inner breast pocket of his dress coat once more, Dan cracked his knuckles, perhaps he should have fought more about going to punch armored people with weapons, but oh well. The worst that could happen is death, or mutilation, or maybe he could get himself a bad ass eye scar, "Oh now I'm all excited again!"
He made it to a part of the battlefield where he could melee fight, and hopefully if he was getting overwhelmed someone would notice and save his amazingly handsome ass. Letting out a loud cough to attract a husk towards him Dan waited patiently for around half a second before some measly looking foe noticed him, and began this husk began his meek charge towards Danny. He had an awfully sharp sword and it looked, by the way he was holding it in the air, that he intended to fight Dan with it. The first downward slash was predictable, Dan simply sidestepping the blow and responding with a clenched fist shot into the husks face.
"That punch felt really good! And given the way you appear to have not enjoyed it I think this was a REALLY good punch!" Dan chuckled as the shadow asshole stumbled backwards after the blow, its face slightly imploded. Now why did that punch feel so good? Dan was legitimately confused, it seemed as if he got no air resistance as he sent his fist through the air, to do such damage with one punch was far beyond what Dan assume he could do. The husk seemed prepared to try again, and now Dan wanted to try something new, as the shadow charged back towards him once more, Dan revved his fist before he was even close, sending it forwards while his foe was still and arms length away.
Satisfyingly enough Dan felt it this time, the air moved with him sending a worthwhile blast into his foe knocking him off his feet. "Oh now this is new, suddenly I'm starting to think I should try this going to a new world thing more often!" He knew he had felt a little different since the moment he arrived in this new place, and it appeared to be in the way of the air itself now being his close buddy. Re-adjusting his eyes to the not at all dead, but very angry, foe Dan let loose a sigh an reached into his coat, producing his revolver and sending the annoyingly alive ass to his grave with a metal shell straight into the skull. Now he got to have fun with this new skill! Taking a place in the front lines Dan hoped that this new power would be as fun as he hoped!
"Make it, make it, make it. Come on!" A blade swinging to one side. "Not enough time, Come on!" Several husks spun and raised their own weapons in turn "No!" He roared, swinging his wings back again in one last ditch effort, several axes, blades and shields swinging towards Kaula in that single moment, before another boom sounded and a cloud of dust was propelled into the air around the scene, and as the dust settled. River stood over his ally, one whom he called friend, his arms raised in a cross above his head and his back facing towards the majority of husks. A small droplet of blood rolled off of his chin and hit the sandy grounds below.
The Incubus had acted as a shield, the original husk's blade was embedded half way through his left wrist and a dozen other weapons poked through his body or lodged themselves into his rib-cage. Blood dribbled down from his mouth to flow over his chin, the crimson mingling in with the blood dripping from his previous wounds as parts of it slid down his bare torso. He'd of course left behind what little protection his clothing had given him, and so took the full force of the attacks. Whilst everything seemed immobile, the husks simply holding their blades waiting for him to fall, with a grunt and a cough that projected small flecks of blood something finally happened.
Thin tendrils of ice pierced through the small group, creating cross-sections and intertwining with one another as they worked their way through the husks flesh and armour. A web of ice eventually constructed and abruptly shattered, leaving dozens of wounds and shrapnel through out the immediate area, Kaula and River at its epicenter. A grin was plastered to Rivers features even as the blood finally began to pool at his feet, his entire body shook for several moments as he slowly lowered his arms and pulled the blade from his wrist and felt it slip through his fingers as they attempted to grasp at it clumsily. Large amounts of blood began to pump from the deep wound, even as he turned and his arms dropped loosely to his sides.
He attempted to trudge onwards, one shuddering step, followed by another, until his legs buckled on the third and he fell to the dirt, unable to move or do anything at all. Simply bleed, until his constitution failed him, if this was how he'd die then so be it.
Think, Kaula, think.
It was too late, the husks raised their weapons, they all were going to slay her in this very spot, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She summoned her shadows as best she could before.
Suddenly, a cloud of dust swirled around her blocking her vision, She managed to cover her eyes from the sand. She heard the clashing of blades but she was still alive.
The dust settled and Kaula laid eyes on her savior.
"River..." She breathed as he was bleeding viciously, blades lodged in his body. She didn't understand how he was even standing.
She started to move forward then something happened. Icy tendrils formed, destroying the husks that surrounded them.
All Kaula could do was watch. Soon, it was silent, River removed the blades and dropped solidly to the ground.
Kaula clamoured over to him, she pulled him into her lap, his head resting on her thigh. " You are still a fool, River. You will never change." She said with a rueful smile as she examined his injures.She knew her demon magick wouldn't do much to heal him, a healing spell would do but it needed to work quickly, and with this being a battlefield, there was no way, he'd be able to heal properly. She shook her head. She had to try.
"Laeha..." She breathed, her palm glowed a low purple, over his wounds. If only she had someone to cover them, then she'd be able to heal him without running the risk of being attacked herself.
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
He had issued a challenge and the prey had accepted, charging at him with ignited blade and reckless abandon. The spark fancied himself a roaring flame, he would be shown his folly. He dodged under the charge moments before the attack reached him, bringing up a fist towards his opponents exposed gut with locked elbow, the prey would not survive. However it was not to be, a greater prey had arrived and fastened its hand around his wrist, the blow did not connect however the hidden burst of blue flames projected forth as intended and engulfed the area his original opponent had occupied, before he could react an elbow smashed into his helm and he found himself bouncing along the ground until his fist found purchase and allowed him to halt the movement.
A small crack ran across his visor and extended on to the left side of his helm. When the dust finally settled, the man from earlier stood just in front of the flames, but he looked younger with blonde hair and a lack of facial hair, it was no matter he had an opponent. He analyzed the mans weaponry, two obsidian gauntlets double the size of the mans actual appendages tipped with glowing claws, where the gauntlets ended at the elbow a torrent of pure white energy flowed. Not unlike his own steam did, except it seemed to have another purpose, scales of some description growing across the mans skin from the points the light made contact.
He had the luck of facing Aizen, his enemies leader. It was fortunate luck was not something that even entered his mind.
Hexagons of black ran through his suits arms, copying Aizen's gauntlets and stopping just before his elbows, they were fully re-enforced and the battle was to begin. His opponent made the first move,darting across the battlefield and swinging a fist directly at the hunters helm again, a blow that was returned in sync as a metal arm collided with the mans gut. An audible crack rung out and both opponents were sent back several meters from each other, blood splattered the sands and his helm had caved in at the left cheek.
The two continued to trade blows, fists occasionally colliding and spreading the force out across the terrain, tearing through the sands and glassing the area around them, whirs of steam and pulsations of light flinging around the battle-field every time the two collided, both sent flying and eventually colliding again further away until they arrived in an area away from the battlefield. So that had been his plan, regardless the two stood across from each-other and scans of his opponents vitals showed that he was losing. Aizen had several broken ribs and blood trickled down his fore-head due to a fractured skull, but his own armour was shattered and caved in several places.
The hunters helm was half destroyed and both his right rib-cage and right leg armour had been torn apart. Aizen stood across from him and with a sudden pulsation of light charged, an act that KH4 mimicked with his steam to meet him in the centre of their glass battlefield. The two black gauntlets collided in the centre and parted as Aizen slammed them into the ground, smashing a crater into the glass below and sending shrapnel into both fighters, a gauntlet swung through the dust and was caught by a black metal hand, the blow returned in kind and traded with legs, elbows and eventually a punch that shattered the hunters gauntlet entirely.
Aizen roared once and leaped forward, swinging a fist back-handed towards the hunter, who swiftly leaped into the air and re-enforced his leg in a flash as it slammed down onto Aizen's skull with full force. There was a sickening crunch and roar as the ground around the fighters erupted into the air, he had won, his prey stumbled on what little platform remained and suddenly threw an upper-cut that collided with the helm to shatter its jaw.
Stunned KH4 stumbled backwards, met with a roar as the mans left gauntlet was brought back to slam into his chest, the other meeting his arm, his skull, a knee slamming into his left thigh to give his opponent enough leverage to smash a twisting kick into the hunters jaw that rocked his head backwards. This couldn't be happening, he would not fail, he could beat Aizen! He looked up as his vision cleared and saw a brief explosion of light that engulfed the entirety of the area behind Aizen, before with perfect footing a bent right arm launched itself forward to collide with what remained of his chest armour.
The sands and glass and scorched earth surrounding the far off combatants did not erupt, it simply ceased to be. Obliterated in its entirety aside from a small stone platform that Aizen stood on, his fist still connected to his foe until a shock-wave erupted forth, shattering what remained of his foes armour and sending him flying back into the battlefield with a slicing gust of wind. A black slug-like being colliding with the earth inside a large group of husks, the wind that followed slicing them into mere piles of dark meat.
The leader of The Nameless slowly made his way back to the battle-field, his weapons slowly falling away as chunks of black stone that rolled into the sands he leaped across, and as the last stone hit the earth and he arrived back at the defensive line, the large slug faded out in a blue light.
Apex Flood
Apex frowned to himself as the insect flitted across his vision to land upon his right shoulder, a large slug he knew to be KH4.Z1X, his hunter. Fading into existence upon his palm and with what he could only assume was an apologetic movement, slinking itself into his armour and settling within a small compartment designed like its armour, to perfectly replicate its home environment.
His husks were few in number and spread out, it would not be long before this battle was over and not in their favor. Were it not a loss on his records it would not bother him, this battle was not his after all. He raised a hand to order a halt of his officers and growled "We return to our base, we have lost this battle. However as a parting gift, Raylee, Revive the husks on the left of the battlefield and the right. Bless the current numbers weaponry, I will have them lose more men before this is through." It was little more then a quarter of their number, but it would give them time to Finish off a few more members and leave unabated. The Leonal did as he was commanded and a holy light washed across the battle-field, clinging to the husks weapons and armour as it picked the rest up from their possible third deaths.
The rest of his officers muttered their own distaste but dare not question him, most understood his orders, others simply did not care. The Large Golem Vorin in particular let out a loud rumble that could be mistaken for a cry of attack, leaning down and reaching out from his current position to scoop up his allies and place them upon his chest just below the large crest. They would observe the battle from here before making their way to their masters, mainly for the sake of honor. To leave before the battle was complete was true cowardice.
βThat's not normal.β He rumbled out, watching with some curiosity.
He ignored the enemies before him for a moment, stopping in his tracks to follow the progress of the yet unidentified person or thing. He looked ahead of it, towards where it was headed, and started running in shock.
How could I have missed this? He thought, as he watched the blades rise, their long and vile history of bloodshed coming to him in a rush, all at once it came, he ignored it, he wasn't as fast as the red streak ahead of him, but he was fast enough, and his steps never faltered as the red haired man was impaled by a multitude of blades.
βimpressive.β He muttered, little breath to spare for words, but it was something else that he was still standing, let alone able to use ice like that. This world is insane. This world is amazing.
Something changed in the air as he drew closer. It wasn't the womans magic, the purple glow over the red ones wounds, nor was it the energy of any of his βallies' No, he'd felt the strongest of them moments ago, as he blew away the enemies giant, it was something else. Something was wrong.
Even as he had those thoughts a pulse, a wave of holy gold light swept the battlefield, surely something as beautiful as that would be in their favor against these abominations, he'd thought. Right up until the light began to cling to their enemies weapons, and the enemies fallen.
Luckily only a small number rose from the ground their movements jerky, as if they were waking up from a deep sleep. All around the edges of the battlefield they rose, a mockery to the men and women who'd died to slay them.
It made him angry, hateful, and in his path rose a single reborn shadow, the body of the one who'd given there life to kill it laying next to it as the beast rose, a sacrifice wasted, squandered, being spat upon by their enemies. He would make sure the beast hurt no one else.
His blood sang to him the steel and iron, and lead, all manner of metal running through his body called for the beast blood, and he gave it to them. A pounding began in his ears. Before the monster had even full risen he'd shorn it's head open, never even breaking his stride.
He didn't stop to think on why he was suddenly hearing voices, or the sound of a hammer striking an anvil in his head, reforging what needed to change, it was too loud, too terrifying to contemplate. So he ignored it, and ran towards his destination, the enemies were heading towards them now, not revived ones, but aberrations glowing with holy light, like some kind of sick joke, he hated them all, and he let them know it in the next instant.
He was incapable of rational thought at that point, his body was running on instincts he wasn't even aware it had. It was so loud, too loud, the hammer rose, the hammer fell, the voices called for blood between each strike, something was building inside him, he could feel it, he didn't know what.
Smoke spilled copiously from his mouth as he roared his mechanical roar at the approaching enemies, he called to their abominable blades, but something told him it wouldn't work before he did it.
Instinct, instinct, instinct! The instinct of an old blade, of an old warrior, of all the battles he'd never seen, never fought, but had experienced through steel, iron, and bronze. It all spilled out of him in a single roar, a single rippling wave of heat, and a line of red hot steel spilling forth from his mouth, he whipped his head in a circle, surrounding the two behind him and himself in a glowing line of molten metal.
βCross the river, and die.β He spoke, solidly, clearly, the words coming unbidden from his mouth a whisper of smoke following after, he was waiting for something then, but he wasn't sure what, something inside him had changed, had been reforged. The enemy would see the result.
They hesitated for but a moment, they were mindless things, he thought, little regard for themselves, spurred on by a dark hatred and a need for blood he could understand, but never agree with. So when they crossed his Line of steel, he spoke and the river answered.
βI told you not to cross my River of Thorns.β The still molten steel burst up from beneath them in jagged spires. None were spared, all were impaled, not all died, those that didn't screamed as they were burned by the red hot nature of steel straight from it's forge, he ignored it. Fatigue hitting him all of a sudden, the haze that had settled over him fading, he would freak out later, he told himself for now he turned to speak to the ones behind him, and he fell to a knee, then back on to his butt, unable to hold himself up any longer.
It was then that he noticed the state of his clothes burned and singed as they were, covered in blood and slashes, the bottom of his long coat ragged, he looked like he'd just ran through a war zone.
With a grin he looked at the people before him and spoke with a laugh. βHell of a day, yeah?β
He looked around at the current situation, evaluating the numbers and strengths of each side in order to determine where he was needed most. Much of the nameless forces were either killed or gravely injured in the chaos of war but the shadow warriors were faring worse than his forces were. Given the current trend in ratio of deaths to kills he estimated that his side would win if they simply kept at the pace they were killing at currently.
What he didn't factor in was the sudden use of magic by one of the remaining lieutenants. The remaining numbers of the husks were enhanced while many of the slain forces rose from the dead to fight once again. The lieutenants proceeded to take to the safety of the golem and watch the battle unfold from above. He wondered why they didn't just start the battle that way, casting from a literal walking fortress while the foot soldiers chopped away at his numbers.
This tactic was not one Pravus was unfamiliar with. In many battles his legion had with necromancers they would throw their disposable minions at his fellow men and resurrect all who die in the battle, giving the necromancer an edge with each death regardless of who dies.
This current tactic did change the dynamic of the battle however. His forces deaths to kills ratio would climb higher given the enemies bolstered numbers. He did wonder about his enemies using divine magic like a necromancer would use their magic but that was a question to be contemplated later, not in the heat of combat.
Pravus felt it would be needed to fight more conservatively since every loss counted a lot more with the current number of enemy shadow warriors being what they were. He spied out in the thick of combat the incubus from earlier being healed by a healer of some sort way too far out into the enemies space. Most of the healers did their healing from behind the lines so the fact one had gone out and put both herself and the victim at risk was simply irresponsible. He was not here to judge though, he was fighting to survive so that he may bury the dead who lost their lives in this battle before moving on.
He trudged on over toward the two. A shadow warrior with the enhanced weapon and armor stepped in front of him for whatever reason was going through it's head. It attacked with a wild overhead swing but he blocked the strike with the middle of his shovel before shoving the attacker almost literally off his feet. He didn't need to defeat their armor in order to defeat them. He just needed to disable them until the defensive line pushed them back up to where he was. From there the answer's simple. Killing more equals better.
Before he arrived at the incubus's location a construct from his own side came forth, using it's elemental abilities to shape metal into an effective weapon, driving off oncoming shadows. It killed many before exhausting itself, something Pravus had as an advantage over it in such regards. After the metal man collapsed from exertion he stepped in to fill in as a defense.
Standing at firm attention in front of the three he fought the shadow warriors away from them, parrying swords and other various weapons with his shovel while striking back with strong thrusts capable of piercing through their flesh and bones in order to help keep a distance between them. Though they came, their weapons strong and their urge to kill stronger he countered ferocity and magic supplementation with skill and tireless strength, weakened as a result of the damage from his battle with the wretched plague beast but still strong enough to kill his enemies, buffs and all.
As the monkey jumped in front of him and the ghost replied: "You are in need of an escort? I'll be glad to help you Ivan! ehehe. " He realised he had plenty of support to get back to the defence line. Though he was unsure if it was wise of the swordswoman to run off after the masked man into battle once more, she seemed to be exhausted and the next time she passes out they might not be able to save her.
"We'll circle around the battle, avoiding most of the enemies, only dealing with single targets as they aproach and trying to avoid getting blocked by groups. Fighting takes time and it's a luxury we don't have, making this the quickest and the safest option." He said to the ghost and the monkey. But before he got a chance to put his plan into motion a bright light washed over the battlefield and raised the fallen husks and enhanced the equipment of the standing husks, blocking the quickest path to the side of the battlefield. As the giant roared at the back of the battle Ivan formed an idea how to clear the blockage. He grabbed the spear that had been flung behind him and trew it at the ground in front of the blockade of husks. "Stand back!" He yelled at the monkey and the ghost as the spear hit the ground and exploded in a massive lightning ball that rolled through the husks. Many of the husks were burned to a crisp and steam rose from the now bone dry ground. It had created a path for them to get out of the encirclement.
"Now." He said as he ran through the newly created gap. Once on the side of the fight he could see scouts roaming around and heading for him. He had expected as much, even a weak, badly armed, but fast scout could land a lucky killing blow. He began running to the defencive line, hoping the monkey and the ghost could deal with the chasing scouts, who were quite a bit faster than him.
Myon had 'over heard' Ivan's thoughts and thus gave him her opinion. She didn't know if she could fend of 1 husk by herself, let alone several. She was pretty weakened and had also noticed her fading. She had no time to panic or feel sorry for herself, one scout had gotten a little too close.
As much as it hurt her to do so, she used more of her energy to produce a copy of herself to distract the husk. The copy intercepts the scout and attempts to stall by means of semi-possession, preventing all movement for a short time. As the copy faded, Ivan, the monkey, and Myon had gone far out of it's sight.
Then came the problem of what was ahead of the threesome, a few husks were waiting for them. They were spread out in a way that prevented the small group from going around them.
"I-I guess we go through them? You have any more magic Ivan? Or any tricks Monkey? I need time to recooperate... I used up more energy than I had... I-I'm sorry..."
The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden
She was probably killed by something while she was at it. Being not combat focused and generally ignored y'know.
Which may or may not have resulted in bunny girls death. "I wish I'd been a paladin instead." would probably be the Draenei's dying thought.
Or maybe she just got lost. Who knows. The end.
The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
Three blocked their path, each bearing the wounds of what cut them down. Flanked on either side of the leader were deformed corpses. The one on the right was cut nearly in two down the middle, itβs head resting on a lopsided torso, sliced down to the waist by the little girlβs sword. The thing on the left had a hole in its middle, like its viscera had combusted, blowing it open. They dripped down its legs, red and white and covered in mud.
The air smelled still of burning flesh from magic Ivanβs attack. Her companions were overspent, she alone could clear the way to safety.
In front was a creature almost unscathed, save for its face. Its huge pink tongue flopped against its neck and chest, its lower jaw completely missing, probably knocked clear by Tiotioβs own bo.
It charged, a huge broadsword raised to strike her.
She planted her feet wide and bent her knees. Gripping the bo in both hands, she dropped it in the mud, and pushed off, spinning around it and calling a huge gust of wind to her, larger than sheβd ever successfully controlled.
Her feet landed and she brought the bo up, aiming it at the jawless thing. The air rushed down her arm, but before it reached the bo she wrenched her arm over. The force of it snapped her bone in two, but the wind traveled down the bo in a wide arc, lifting mud and debris, and taking the soldier off its feet.
It slammed into the lopsided soldier with such force that the precarious head dislodged and dropped to the mud. The two bodies lay in a crumpled heap, but before the jawless one could recover Tiotio was on top of it, driving her bo into its eye socket, down against its skull. Slamming furiously to end its unnatural life. Bone and blood, gooey and solidified, flew up, splattering her robes.
A sharp tug yanked her backwards. The soldier with dangling guts had her tail in its hands, pulling her off his fallen comrade.
βGo now!β she yelled to the others, her words devolving into an animal screech as she tried to round on her attacher.
With her broken arm Tiotio could not bring her bo around in time to block its swing, and metal bit into her back. Ignoring the pain she reached into her bag and took an acid vial, throwing it into the thingβs face. It loosed her grip on her tail and she was free.
The bo in her good arm, she struck at its neck, the wood punching clean through and out the other side.
With with little strength she had left, she made for the Nameless line.
With the scouts having been dealt with by help of the ghosts trickery. The next hurdle appeared, a blocking line of the risen husks. One of them charged at the monkey and it acrobatically countered the attack, however the sound of breaking bone made clear she hadn't done so without harming herself.
Another of the husks went at her grabbing her by the tail to drag her off it's comarade. The monkey screeched at Ivan and the ghost, the exact words he wouldn't know, but the messege was clear. Ivan ran through the now broken line, towards the defencive line of the nameless.
Another scout which had been further forward seeing if it could pick off a healer or a mage from among the nameless turned at Ivan as he saw him aproach. The husks armor and dagger were imbued with a white light, probably from the same source that had risen the dead husks.
Clutching the rats mace in one hand and his last crystal in the other he ran at the scout and slammed his open palm at the throat of the husk, abusing the gap between it's headgear and the chest piece. The crystal fell into the husks armor and incinerated the husk. However the husk had managed to slash at his striking arm in the meantime and out of the slash wound blood began to flow, the pain itself was unnoticable among the thousends of pain singals his arms were already sending.
But now finally he, the monkey and the ghost had managed to get to the rest of the nameless. Out of breath he stumbled to one of the healers at the back and dropped himself onto the ground. He would probably have to wait, there were others in worse shape than him, especially visually. One of the nameless dropped next to him and rolled up his sleeve, uncovering the wound. He quickly bandaged the wound and ran off to off to one of the healer, exchanged some words and ran to the next wounded. The healer then moved towards Ivan and began healing his wound and the internal damage. He could only assume the boy had noticed the unusuall muscle tension or in another way had noticed the damage.
She feared the worse...elimination of existence. If Myon fades away Area will too. No matter where she looked, her Mistress was nowhere to be found. If she was able too, she would have broke down and cried. She didn't want to disappear, having accomplished nothing.
Aera however, was trying hard not to laugh as she bopped her ghost half on the back of the head.
"You seriously need to calm down. You really think I'd let you or I fade away? I'm not that careless."
Myon's body began to slowly become murky white as her ghostly form returned to normal. She was exhausted but Aera seemed to be full of energy. Aera had quite a few nasty injuries again, and even part of a blade stuck in her left thigh. There was no real time for an assessment as another husk drew close.
Without so much as a second thought, Aera spun 'round and smashed the husk in the side of the head with her sheath only to follow up with her fist knocking the husk to the ground. In a rather fluid motion, she unsheathed her sword and cleaved the downed husk vertically in half. Returning her sword to its sheath and the sheath to her side.
"Cheh... not so tough when their on the ground now are they?"
The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden
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The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland
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"You got to be f***ing joking! Do you b***ards have any idea how hard it was to murder that many of them? Sure it was a right laugh, especially the fella whose head I squashed by bashing the two pipes together, but they did tons of slashes and smashes and other injuries beginning with S's on me!? Granted some of them have healed up now, that's the case with this weird healing factor junk I got, but one of them tried to chop my head off! The c**t! If there dead, leave em dead, ain't fair otherwise you cheating cowards!", Qwerty babbled furiously, having indicated to various wounds that adorned his sludgy body, including a clean stab wound through his side, a missing toe, and the previously mentioned incriminating attempt of cleaving around half way along his long snake-like neck. It was obvious he was hampered by the numerous wounds on his body, his already cumbersome speed impeded as well as his advantageous strength, and though his wounds were still healing, it was occurring at a snails pace. He wasn't ready for being in the thick of it and he begrudgingly knew it.
As the husk hoard approached, Qwerty made the shaming decision to retreat, an action he never was comfortable with, but saw it necessary as he began lumbering towards the defensive line, grumbling under his breath as the shadowy underlings were figuratively and occasionally literally nipping at his heels. He hastily battered back a few husks that got too close, desperately pushing them back with his great steel pipes he wielded as clubs, as well as spitting clumps of acidic slime, as well as adhesive slime, in an attempt to slow their numbers, still scrambling towards The Nameless and fellow competitors striving to survive.
"This just ain't f***ing fair I tell ya! reviving the dead while im heavily injured is just a wimpy loser way of a come back!" Qwerty raged to no one in particular, now at half-way to what appeared to be an iron fence that wasn't there earlier, with all sorts of combatants fighting nearby.
But there were more and worse yet, they were learning from each others failures. These blessed units may not have had the years of veteran training he possesses but having survived for this long into the fight they were starting to better defend themselves, starting to exploit weaknesses in their enemies.
Even though he tried to keep them away from his metal fence, viciously stabbing at every one of them that came close, there was little he could do about the end result. The blessed shadow's hacked and beat upon the fence with their swords, pressing against it with their shields as the prongs chipped and bent. The spikes brought forth by the construct were quite sharp but rather thin, not designed to properly repel an enemy force's full on assault. Even a solid spiked garrison would fall in these circumstances however as the only ones defending it in particular were him and it's maker.
Looking back towards the nameless he saw the main defense line had been pushed back, the blessed warriors who weren't concerning themselves with the two of them had swarmed around the spiked road block to engage the line with their best and brightest. In his distraction Pravus felt a blade come through an opening in the fence and pierce through his armor in the lower left torso, just above the hips. A shocking sensation struck him as he felt the magic of their blades bring about a long forgotten feeling: Pain. The holy energy in the blade served to dredge about an old sense as old and seemingly distant as his other memories, jolted forward into the present by the all too familiar sting. As the blade drew from his side the pain lingered as a real wounds suffering would. He grunted, falling back from the side he was injured from before regaining his composure.
Despite the pain he fought through it, forcing himself to fight on regardless of injury. Lowering the grip on his weapon he gave himself a longer reach with the head of his shovel. He brought it high above his head and feigned to strike a separate enhanced shadow before twisting around mid motion and bringing the edge of his shovel down upon the arm which previously held the blade that had wounded him so, leaving a blessed shadow warrior wandering about the battlefield clutching only a shield.
Despite Pravus's efforts, felling a good number of these divinely blessed shadow fighters, the fencing around them was about to collapse, inviting the remaining survivors to flood on in once it yields. He knew he'd need to fight his way back to the line should that occur but with the weapons being enchanted in the matter they were he stood a very good chance at being cut down upon trying to bypass the shadows which had opted to go around them and engage the Nameless's lines directly. He braced himself, standing next to the metallic humanoid as prepared as he was ever going to be at this time.
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It was with a bang, and not a whimper, that a new being arrived to the field of battle. His stitched and scraggly top hat perching perfectly atop his head and a mask that hid his features jolting slightly as he thumped into the ground just ahead of The Nameless defensive line gracefully. His limbs not reacting to the fall he had partaken of from the outer edges of this material plane as he strode forward with the tapping of a cane held loosely in one gloved hand, it was mere moments after he landed that the entire ground upon his landing point was eviscerated along with the husks that had arrived. A cavernous hole created and flooding with the sands slowly as he proceeded to walk towards the main combat and its participants, a husk with glowing blade leaped towards him, and was swiftly met with an elbow to the jaw that surely would have sent the creature flying. Had there been any creature left to move, however instead the man lowered his elbow and continued walking with the world perpetually slowed around him.
He eventually arrived at his destination and removed his top hat and mask, propping them upon his cane which he lodged into the ground at the centre of the battlefield. However despite his entirely uncovered features no matter what way you looked at him, it was obvious he had a face and head, features like any other being, yet none could be seen and nothing was truly visible. Not even an out-line of hair, and yet it was certain he was not bald, his teeth and glowing red eyes were visible however, both horrifyingly sharp and equally able to rend flesh from bone. However it was with presentation of these teeth in an impossible grin as he removed and began the placement of these objects which began the beginning of the end, a strange dark aura manifesting in reality behind him, he kicked the cane up from the ground and allowed it to fly carelessly into the battlefield with his personal affects, and began his work.
He first launched himself into the nearest armoured husk, leaping into the air and slamming a knee into its skull, a hand reaching behind it to grasp its ally to use its own head as a pivotal point, a point he used to spin his body in a hurricane of kicks that crashed through husks and sent waves of wind that tore through rows of their brethren beyond the initial point. Upon landing he flashed far across the battle field and planted his footing solidly upon the sands, an open palm and rigid fingers meeting a husks spine as the momentum of his travel passed into it with full force, along with several thousand volts of electricity that chained across the immediate area, his eyes met a group fleeing to the back line, a monkey woman receiving the full penetrating gaze he laid upon the collective group.
He continued to flash all across the battlefield, elbows, knees, fists and palms colliding with husks at a rapid pace in dozens of fighting styles. Each impact shaking the entire battlefield or passing some form of power along through the enemy lines until eventually mere seconds after his arrival half of the enemies remaining forces had been wiped out, he finished off one more blessed husk with a flipping kick that left him sailing through the air in the opposite direction to its skull. It was with a light thump then that his top hat returned to his head and the mask landed perfectly in his coat pocket, the cane spinning and landing in his out-stretched hand as he floated above the remaining fighters.
With a graceful spin he landed upon the ground and brought two hands together, a clap ringing out that silenced all other noise as the man, or perhaps the creature ,placed its hands swiftly upon the ground, a dark energy flowing through its finger tips for a moment before it stood. Corrected its top hat and its tie and deftly stepped out of the way of a fountain of blood to its left, one that was simultaneous across the battlefield as the remaining army erupted into a fountain of gore and destroyed armour. An eruption that was followed by a shock-wave of shaking earth and immensely strong wind that threatened to blow away those who were uncharacteristically weak. The silence that had flooded the battlefield finally lifting with a roar of noise.
It was with this final hurrah that the man dissipated entirely, a piece of parchment floating down to a certain marble skinned Incubus bait within the field, containing a name of an inn, and the blood enscribed symbol that almost whispered its own name "Apocalys". In the distance atop the hill which all this had begun, the retreating head of a temple like Golem could be seen, the Grasslands clear of all its hostile life.
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View All » Add Character » 20 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Mathew Miles
"Not going to live for nobody else, not going to die for anybody else either"
'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
The manic, battle-hungry, extra-gluttunous, senient pile of Plasmophlemge
Spindel Peridot
"when you spend a couple thousand years in hibernation, you tend to forget some things."
Irina Neventelde
"I'm not just gonna listen to you, y'know. Idiot. Don't even try it!"
Keres Leventis
"Some people think I'm narcissistic, but I like to think I'm just self-aware."
Pravus the Grave Tender
"I shall bury them all. When you die, I shall bury you too."
Seriene Arvor
A devout novice battle priest of the Naaru and a once firm defender of Karabor.
Tiotio
"Do not seek for the truth, only stop having an opinion."
Dan Breeze
"Wanna scuffle! I'll scuffle! I'll scuffle right proper!"
Trending
Irina Neventelde
"I'm not just gonna listen to you, y'know. Idiot. Don't even try it!"
Mathew Miles
"Not going to live for nobody else, not going to die for anybody else either"
Seriene Arvor
A devout novice battle priest of the Naaru and a once firm defender of Karabor.
NPC Sheet
Tags general NPC's, holds information on important figures (When I get around to it)
River Saetyrix
An extremely laid back Incubus with the wit of a sarcastic feline.
Pravus the Grave Tender
"I shall bury them all. When you die, I shall bury you too."
'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
The manic, battle-hungry, extra-gluttunous, senient pile of Plasmophlemge
Keres Leventis
"Some people think I'm narcissistic, but I like to think I'm just self-aware."
Tiotio
"Do not seek for the truth, only stop having an opinion."
Most Followed
Pravus the Grave Tender
"I shall bury them all. When you die, I shall bury you too."
River Saetyrix
An extremely laid back Incubus with the wit of a sarcastic feline.
Spindel Peridot
"when you spend a couple thousand years in hibernation, you tend to forget some things."
'Qwerty' aka Experiment 'Sludgepile'
The manic, battle-hungry, extra-gluttunous, senient pile of Plasmophlemge
Tiotio
"Do not seek for the truth, only stop having an opinion."
Seriene Arvor
A devout novice battle priest of the Naaru and a once firm defender of Karabor.
Dan Breeze
"Wanna scuffle! I'll scuffle! I'll scuffle right proper!"
Irina Neventelde
"I'm not just gonna listen to you, y'know. Idiot. Don't even try it!"
Keres Leventis
"Some people think I'm narcissistic, but I like to think I'm just self-aware."
View All » Places
144 posts · 9 characters present · last post 2014-05-10 20:54:07 »
Vast plains of grass and large fields were the norm at one point here near Kerris, but after a game with a Demon Lord the Phyrexian Grasslands are withered and barren waste-lands devoid of all but a tiny almost village area home to The Nameless.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Southern Corner of the Garden, A city sunk into the glaciers of ancient ethereal ice. Kind-hearted and hardy are the people here, and ironically its trade of food and all things heat-related is well known in The Garden.
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Garden ↪ Terralis Owner: duramon
The Eastern Corner of The Garden, vast cities spread across the tops of ancient and nearly indestructible mushrooms grown from the earth. All things natural, pure magic and genetic tampering are the norm here, seen vastly as the symbol for peace.
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Norther Corner of The Garden, a floating city reliant on its vast hub of guilds and sky trade routes.
0 posts · 0 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
The Western Corner of the Garden, home to the hardiest monsters and roughest terrain. Will and Law is an Iron fist and its residence and guilds hold true to this standard, Kreigland is known for its seclusion from the other corners and cities.
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » The Garden: An Arcadian Boneyard: Out of Character
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I'm confused....
by Ritnio on Wed Dec 18, 2013 7:44 pm
- 4 Replies
- 482 Views
- Last post by chaotix14
on Fri Dec 20, 2013 5:17 am
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I'm confused....
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Look, guys seriously.
by Questionable Object on Sun Dec 08, 2013 3:57 pm
- 4 Replies
- 433 Views
- Last post by Zalgo
on Tue Dec 10, 2013 9:05 pm
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Look, guys seriously.
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One day I'll be a god, but not today.
by duramon on Sun Dec 08, 2013 2:08 am
- 3 Replies
- 408 Views
- Last post by Ritnio
on Tue Dec 10, 2013 8:25 pm
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One day I'll be a god, but not today.
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I'm not the GM but can I talk about tagging?
by Questionable Object on Sun Dec 08, 2013 12:17 am
- 0 Replies
- 425 Views
- Last post by Questionable Object
on Sun Dec 08, 2013 12:17 am
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I'm not the GM but can I talk about tagging?
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