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Pravus the Grave Tender

"I shall bury them all. When you die, I shall bury you too."

0 · 938 views · located in The Garden

a character in “The Garden: An Arcadian Boneyard”, as played by Zalgo

Description

Name: Pravus the Grave Tender of Sed


Age: 42 at Death, 124 current.


Place of Birth: Sed, a city within the great empire of Tiatha


Personality:
An appropriately somber mood and dreary attitude to suite a member of the living dead. Pravus does not like to talk a lot but he is not expert at hiding his disdain towards almost everyone. In a way his mask actually makes him more approachable as anyone talking to him without it could immediately see the resentment painted clearly across his face. Given his undead state he has had very little to be happy about and is pretty much always wearing a frown.

If anyone ever manages to get him to warm up to them then they would see a strange fellow indeed. His respect for the dead and people's ancestors is great and he would go to great lengths to appease a spirit should one be disturbed from it's afterlife. He looks down with great disgust upon the mutilation and defiling of corpses. This level of kin-hood didn't begin at reanimation either, he's been this kind of person from childhood. Around undead like himself he is polite and has quite a kind and charitable soul to his fellow unliving ladies and gentlemen. To a true friend he can be similarly kind but he has a large round zero on his list of closest friends indicating just how many he's made.

When put to challenge he has the character of a mountain. He can be calm and calculating, carefully planning his way to his goal when a solution needs to be had. When a moment requires action he persists with a precise and steady onslaught, his mind still ever processing for more solutions while he presses on. His will is strong like a mountain, refusing to yield no matter how hard he is pushed. He may come up with better tactics to better suit his situation but never has the day where Pravus refused to do something he knows is right because it wasn't easy been seen.

Ultimately he simply wishes to perform his duty in peace. He has accepted that his role in life was to tend to the needs of the dead, making sure people do not suffer after death. He does not seek the company of the living but is not against cooperation for everyone's betterment.


Appearance:
Image
The first thing anyone would notice about him is his plague doctor's uniform, not that anyone would see anything else underneath this thorough getup. Clad in a brown full circle cloak his most notable feature is the mask. A long curved brown cloth mask with two armored glass eyes. Atop his head sits a wide brimmed brown hat that looks like it was put together like a quilt, all pieced together from several parts of other hats.

Image
Underneath this uniform lies a rather grim sight. He is dressed in a black baggy shirt which has seen better days worn underneath a suit of plated chain mail. He is almost always wearing long black leather gloves and high rimmed black leather boots which are caked in mud and well worn from the countless hours they've been walked in. Around his neck he wears a thin grey scarf which has seen better days.

Pravus's own face is could give the grim reaper something to compare his own to. He's got medium length pitch black disheveled hair and dark brown eyes that almost look black from a distance. His skin is a cold, lifeless grey color, small cuts and scraps still present from past confrontations with the other living dead resident's of Sed. He stands at about 5'5" and weights around 198 pounds.


Spoken Languages: His native tongue is Sedian though in his time serving in the Tiathan army he has picked up a smattering of Ru'ulian.


Theme Song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Wci0l_wCOw


[Combat Section]

Weapons:
Image
His weapon is a specialized shovel handed down through the family on his father's side. This five foot long shovel is designed to be able to cut through rocks and especially tough dirt with ease. The region this shovel herald's from is mountainous and very rocky. There is very little dirt that doesn't lead about a foot or two down simply to rest atop buried boulders in it's homeland. With the advanced metallurgy and technology of the Tiathan empire this shovel could, supposing if it's wielder were both strong and patient enough, Cut a mountain's worth of rocks down until there lay nothing but a pile of pebbles and chips before it's edges would begin to dull.


Powers: Firstly he is a member of the living dead. His power's mostly derive from this mysterious state he's been left in. He lacks the need to eat, drink, sleep or breath and he never tires no matter how hard he exerts his body. He cannot get sick and poisons are useless against him. If he is damaged he does not heal the wound naturally nor does healing magic heal him. He can instead put himself back together again from any lost pieces or body parts from himself or other dead bodies.

Secondly he can see and interact with ghosts and other intangible beings that normal life forms cannot perceive.


Technology: The society he is from possesses a very advanced pseudo-magical state of technology. Despite having access to a modern state of mechanical engineering they are at about a renaissance stage of medical science and computers are basically non-existent to them. In addition they utilize a variety of magical metals, the most commonly used being orichalcum which they use as wires to transmit magical energy to their various techno-magical devices. They wield an advanced array of alchemical knowledge and some of the finest magic universities in the realm call Tiatha home.

The most recent and yet most prominent invention of the great empire was the Empowerment Gem. The Empowerment gem could grant a nearly endless multitude of qualities to any structure, device or item it is socketed in. Furthermore these gems could grant these qualities to the wielder of said items they were socketed in, capable of transforming even a lowly peasant into a mythical hero of both might and magical prowess. These improvement's would only last so long as the gem remained socketed to the item and the item on it's user's person. Actual skills could be learned while using the skill gems but once removed the vast well of information disappears, leaving a person with only what he or she experienced while using it.

It was the ease with which these Empowerment Gems could be removed and replaced with other gems that made them so widely used. The wealthy would carry dimensional pockets loaded with piles of these gems, adorned head to toe with various types of jewelry which they would gem depending on the circumstance. If they wanted to cast magic they would deck themselves out with Empowerment Gems granting them the needed magical essence and many life times worth of magical knowledge in an instant. If one was cooking he or she could pop in a set of Empowerment gems gifting it's user with a natural talent for cooking and an extensive knowledge of every single culinary food item known to the empire. For combat, Empowerment gems to grant oneself the spirit and strength of a warrior as well as a mastery of all weapons. If anything was possible for someone to do, there was a gem that could do it. Very few people actually knew how these gems were made. They weren't telling anyone back then and they are most certainly not telling anyone now. The process of creating the Empowerment Gems was a very closely guarded secret.

Pravus has used Empowerment gems in the past but at the point of crossing the gate into the Recruitment Guild Game he possesses none.


Skills:

- Pravus has served in the Tiathan military for twenty years as a front row spear man. This has made him a veteran when it comes to combat.

- Pravus knows a great deal about human anatomy and disease given how much of it he has seen working as a mortician.

- Pravus possesses a fair knowledge of chemistry. He learned much about which chemicals he was working with when preparing bodies for burial.

- Pravus has learned various burial rights as a result of all the funerals he has attended. He has had a long time to practice them in his service in undeath.


Proficiency:

- Pravus can be a quick learner.


[Back-story]

Father: Gravitius the Grave Tender of Sed


Mother: Vitalis of Sed


Connections and Affiliations: The Imperial Army.


History prior to The Garden:

Pravus was born into a family who's family business was preparing bodies for burial, burying them and tending to the graves forever after. It was his father's profession, his father's father's profession and every father of his family for many generations. It was expected that Pravus become a Grave Tender as well when he becomes old enough to. Every day his father taught him the trade, preparing him for the time when he would pass the family shovel down to him. Interesting thing about Pravus was that he was gifted. He could see ghosts as well as other spirits lingering in the material plane. His whole family thought him strange for talking to seemingly nothing most of the time. Instead of socializing and having fun like the rest of the kids he would go out into the graveyards and converse with the dead, fascinated by the tales they had to tell.

Now this may all point to how he'd be ideal for becoming a Grave Tender but it all lead to him looking out towards a very different path. Out of all the dead he listened to, the ones with the most fascinating were the ones of soldiers out in the fields of battle. He always wanted to see a battle from their point of view. Him and his father had many heated arguments over the matter. Pravus was determined to be a soldier but his father was adamant about him becoming a Grave Tender. When he was twelve years old, old enough to join the army, on one fateful evening Pravus and his father had one of their more unpleasant arguments. The last words he had shouted at his father were "I'm leaving this accursed household forever! May your health falter in the years to come!". He left his home and ran off to the recruitment center in Sed that night. After signing some forms they directed him to the Traveling Stone and he was instantly ported thousands of miles away to a Tiathan military barracks.

There he trained hard both physically and mentally. He took rather quickly to the information they had to offer, quickly climbing to become one of the top students of his class. He was honed until he became the ideal soldier. After successfully passing his training course he was assigned to be the one of the foremost spear men of his legion. Of course most of the soldiers in his legion were all new to true combat, just like him, so they were picked less over the veteran legions. Eventually after proving their mettle in some skirmishes his legion was assigned to a general who was promoted rather recently but showed promise. General Atus took the legion to the snowy wilderness's to the north where the barbarian kingdom of Ru'ul stood and promptly invaded it.

The employment period of a soldier in the Tiathan army was twenty years, no more, no less. During that period each soldier receives a monthly salary as well as having the costs for eating and equipping covered by the imperial taxes. Pravus spent pretty much that entire time fighting in the cold northern woods of Ru'ul. Walking fifty miles on a typical day, more if haste was needed and constantly cutting down trees to make temporary fortifications for each night. Pravus fought seemingly endless hordes of wild men wielding primitive weapons and bolstered by druidic magic. Some of the Ru'ulian armies would call upon all sorts of tamed beasts, from wargs and war bears to mammoths and dragons.

His legion's odds were stacked against them but they had something to even the playing field: Some of the first Empowerment Gems. The reason this new general was given these rather green troops was because he would be the first to test what was a completely new magical invention. Each of them had been equipped with several prototype combat Empowerment Gems to see how they would function in combat. They worked brilliantly, giving General Atus and his men strategic victory after victory, crushing the forces of Ru'ul under heel as his forces conquered the lands in the name of their glorious empire. In these twenty years the Empowerment gems would become universally used throughout the Tiathan army before getting the green light to be released for civilian use.

Twenty long years Pravus fought, using the Empowerment Gems they gave him. In some ways he had become somewhat bitter, disappointed that all his greatest victories were won using the knowledge and power granted to him by special gems rather than by his own skill. He never got to know just how good he truly was at fighting in all the battles they fought. Though disappointed as he was Pravus was not totally disenchanted with the whole experience. He was still happy to have seen so many odd sights and unfamiliar settings. He was thankful for the memories of getting to do battle with strange and unusual monsters and witnessing the effects of foreign magical practitioners. The wealth of loot they plundered from these villages made him quite rich indeed. Now that his term of service was over Pravus could retire with the cash he collected over the years. He couldn't keep the Empowerment Gems because they technically belonged to the military but he wasn't so attached to them anyways. He decided he would return back to his home city. He was homesick and though he had plenty of bad memories from there he also had many good ones. The nostalgic sight of his city would be a welcome sight indeed He thought. Oh, how things had changed.

He returned home greeted by a lonely widow. His sisters had all gone off and started their own careers and some had even gotten married. The only person left to look after his childhood home was his mother. His father had died of a painful illness of the lungs about five years back. This news hurt Pravus down to his very core. In a way he felt it all his fault as he had wished this upon his father so long ago. His anger towards his father that he felt on the day he left had whittled away as he grew more mature while serving the legion. He regretted what he had said that faithful day. It tormented him in his dreams and in every thought of every waking hour. He spent several days mourning his fathers death, the guilt refusing to leave him. In the end there was only one way he could possibly stem the guilt. He went and took up his fathers shovel. He became the Grave Tender his father always wanted him to be, continuing the family tradition.

The city of Sed had changed greatly as well since his absence. Empowerment Gems had become the height of fashion, everyone trying to get their hands on whatever gems they can for the sake of having one. They were both a tool and a fashion commodity now, something he never really got. Then again, being a Grave Tender meant he wasn't expected to be seen in public much anyways. Almost no one wanted the title of "Grave Tender's friend". Of course, they all might of fared better had they been his friend when the sickness came.

Pravus was the only person who saw it coming. A black cloud was rapidly traveling towards Sed. By the time he saw what it really was it was too late. The black cloud was in fact millions upon millions of dark spirits, their twisted black skeletal forms howling curses towards everyone. He tried to warn them. He told everyone to flee the city as fast as he could but no one believed him. No one could see the cloud he was seeing and simply believed him to be deranged. Pravus could only take cover as it swept through the city, infecting everyone with a deadly plague overnight. It devastated the city, the whole populace was in a massive panic. Pandemonium swept through the streets, people were looting stores and running for the Traveling Stones. It was to many a victim's dismay when they arrived only to find every other city in the exact same state. The whole empire of Tiatha was suddenly struck by this devastating illness. All the plants and wildlife were dying as were the people. Interestingly though the spirits seemed particularly drawn to those who carried Empowerment Gems on them. Pravus had no gems on him so on the night the disease hit he was passed over by the howling dark spirits virulent touch.

As the disease progressed all the streets and buildings were homes to literal piles of corpses. It became nearly impossible to walk through the city without stepping on an infected body. Pravus and a few other people who had stronger immune systems banded together to do something about the rampant amounts of death and infection in the streets. The small few who were still healthy enough built him a suit that would allow him to go gather bodies and perform the proper burial rights for them. It was Pravus's vigil and he would carry it out, even if it meant burying every single member of this entire city. He put on his plague suit and accompanied by the few noble souls who remained to aid their city he gathered bodies in a large wagon, taking large stacks of bodies from the streets and burying them in mass graves before saying the appropriate funeral rights for this situation. Interesting note is that there was a funeral right written specifically for people who died from a large plague and had to be buried in a mass grave. One of his followers would carry a bell, ringing it loud and clear while announcing for everyone to "Bring out your dead!" to everyone who was still alive so that they could bring out the bodies for them to take.

For the months to come Pravus worked hard burying all those who had died to the dark spirits touch. Many of his assistants died from becoming infected after handling some of the bodies. No matter how cautious they all were when handling the dead it was impossible to avoid infection for too long. He buried his treasured helpers in single marked graves, a way for him to honor them for their service by allowing them to be remembered and putting their souls to rest. Pravus never once doubted his duty, even when he had to bury his sisters and finally his poor widow of a mother. He bore the sorrow for that was his purpose in life. His selfishness had cost his father his life. He would not betray the duty of a Grave Tender and forsake his only way to serve penance for what he had done. He continued to bury the dead, even when he was the only one left alive to do it.

As winter came even Pravus himself eventually became ill with the infection. Even as protected as he was from it, not even he was exempt from the all consuming plague. Even as his health began to fail he continued to bury Sed's dead and say their prayers. Eventually he became so ill that he could no longer physically walk. When it became obvious that his end had come he decided he needed to accept one last responsibility. He managed to crawl his way up the graveyard until he came up to a hill with a small dead tree on top. He sat himself against the tree and watched the sun set across a graveyard that stretched farther than the eye could see. He could feel a sorrow greater than anyone in the history of Tiatha ever could. He felt the sorrow of having been chosen to witness the death of all life in the whole empire of Tiatha, possibly the world. As the sun set, Pravus passed into the night.

of course, this story doesn't end here.

Pravus awoke. He doesn't know how or why but he was suddenly awake. At first he thought he was alive but that cheerful thought soon passed as soon as he observed that he couldn't feel any warmth. His blood no longer pumped through his veins, he felt no pain, no hunger, no need to breath, almost nothing at all. He realized what he had become. He was now a member of the living dead. But why? He pondered before he was stunned to see what stretched out before him. There were rows of colossal headstones so numerous these rows extended beyond what his eyes could see. Upon each of these headstones was the name of every single person who lived in the empire of Tiatha. The names were all etched out in the basic Tiathan alphabet. Who could of done this? Why did they bring me back? He wondered, questions now clogging his brain. With a sigh he resigned all the questions he had to simply sit unanswered for now. After all, he had a duty to uphold. There were still many bodies in the city that had yet to be buried so he got back to work. In the dead empire of Tiatha in the rotting city of Sed Pravus worked to make sure the dead were all properly respected, his eternal vigil.

At least, for a while...

So begins...

Pravus the Grave Tender's Story

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Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by Zalgo
"I am here, alone again."

Pravus spoke mostly to himself. He had an eternity left ahead of him and so many bodies to bury it would take him almost that long to do so. It made a certain sense that he'd start talking to himself. He wasn't going to have more interesting conversations with any of the bodies. In front of him the fresh dirt of his latest mass burial rested atop the many corpses below. With them many an Empowerment gem was buried. If it was in their possession then he had no right to take it from them. Robbing the dead, a practice strictly forbidden in the duty of a Grave Tender. He felt better off burying the gems anyways. They had drawn the dark spirits to each of these poor victims.

He peered out through his mask's glass eyes towards the horizon. The sun was beginning to set as it always does. As much as he would like to simply gather bodies and dig 'till he was done he was not the only thing that returned from death in this city. Some of the cities many dead did not sleep well and there was something about the air in Sed. It was still, more still than air had the right to be. No wind, not even a single breeze could be seen ever since he came back from death's embrace. It was as if even the air in this city was dead.

Pravus reminisced about the day he saw the spirits come. Looking out he estimated that they came from the direction of the imperial capital, Tiatha. I wonder if they swept through the heart of this empire like they did with us or if it originated there. A question worth answering one day but I cannot abandon my duty. I must bury the dead of this city and say my prayers for them so they can sleep. He started to make his way back home where he would hide from the larger more nocturnal aberrations the living dead have become until sunrise. The undead that roamed the streets of Sed at night would gather bodies, much like Pravus does, but instead of burying them they would eat them, growing larger and more deformed as they fed. He did not look forward to the day when he would need to put these creatures down and bury them, putting their souls and the souls of all those they consume at ease.

As he passed a large fenced of section of dirt he felt a pang of depression, one of the few feelings he could still feel. He knew that the fenced off area was once a rather gorgeous garden with exotic fruits, vegetables and vibrant flowers. It made him think about the good days. Back as a child when he could run through the streets without a care in the world. He would often pass this very garden. This nostalgia turned sour with the rotten flavor of reality as he heard a building's groan in the distance. Things were stirring.


I understand that I must honor my father's wishes in being a Grave Tender but this task I set myself up for is impossible. Yes, I have an infinite amount of time to live and bury the dead so that they may rest but what happens after I've buried them all? I cannot bury myself. I could dig a grave and lay in it but it would become the only open grave I've never tended to. Should I end my time here in that grave then who would say prayers for me so that my soul could leave this world in peace? It cannot be done. If only... If only there were somebody, anybody who was still alive. I could pass on after burying this empire of the dead and leave that person the burden of tending my grave so that this horrible land could be erased from history and slip into the serenity of nothingness. His attention was stirred as he approached his childhood home.

"There is only me to answer me." He opened the front door to his home greeted not by his loving mother, father or even his other siblings. All that greeted him was silence, a blanket that fed on his very sanity day after day. He was especially careful to make sure nothing was watching him as he cautiously closed and locked the door behind him. He stepped into the kitchen, walking through a dead memory of a long lost happiness. He was about to practice reciting his burial rights in preparation for the next day when something stood out in the corner of his vision. Having seen his home and everything else basically undisturbed for decades seeing an alteration was like seeing a thumb where another finger should be on his hands.

There was a door standing upright upon his father's grave. His family had made sure that his father would be buried within sight of the house. The door however was new. It wasn't attached to any building nor was there anything behind it that it barred entry from. It was just a door serving no other purpose than to make his day more interesting. His shovel still in hand, Pravus made his way through the back door and out towards the hill. The sunset's glow reflected off the metallic door giving it a golden orange sheen. He knew this door could not be an ordinary one. Between the coincidental nature of it being placed directly in the middle of his father's grave and Pravus's own familiarity with enchanted items he had a great suspicion that there was magic at work here.

Curiosity won out over caution and he grasped the golden door's knob. Before he could even open the door he was swallowed by a brilliant golden light. The world turned to light and he was nothing for but a moment shorter than time could even recognize.

---

He was only mildly disoriented as the golden light died down to reveal a strange circular stone room. This room was ornately designed with gold borders and ornately carved pillars. The experience of traveling in an instant to a strange new place was not a new experience for him. Travel Stones operated in a very similar fashion. To his sides there were two doors, one on the left and one to the right. He was about to ponder as to where he could be and why when all of a sudden an item suddenly transported itself into his hand via the same golden light that brought him here. He opened it and read the rules and conditions set for him as well as listing the rewards for completing aforementioned challenges.

It seems I have been selected for some form of test. Interesting. Either this is all automated or someone is running this... Tower? He looked over to see a clear window set rather high up in the wall. As tall as he was, he couldn't see much of the remaining dungeon below. The only feature of this strange location he could gleam was a grand spire set with glowing veins. This also was not an unfamiliar sight for him, having seen orichalcum wires and cables that conducted magical energy in such a fashion. As a matter of fact Pravus now believed he was summoned into a facility in the imperial capital city, Tiatha. This deduction didn't seem far-fetched at all.

Not knowing how long it may take him to navigate this facility and not wishing to engage in combat if he didn't have to Pravus opted to try and complete the third victory condition which happened to be the most rewarding thankfully. With that goal now in mind he had another decision to make. Left or right?

---

He chose the left door which was the smaller of the two doors. Ahead of him stretched a long corridor which seemed narrower at the end. Pravus was about to step ahead when he heard soft footsteps up ahead. He ducted behind the doorway he came through before lowering the beak of his mask and leaning his head out enough so that he could see while remaining discreetly hidden. Through his barred glass eye he was able to make out the soft feminine form of a woman traveling his direction ahead. He was able to make out some details even as indistinct as they were. Long platinum blonde hair, pronounced ear points, a leaf green tunic that reaches only partway down her thighs, a slender hourglass figure, brown leather boots and a golden harp clutched tightly to her. She was nervous as evident by the way she mousily skittered in his general direction.

Just as this strange woman passed into the narrow passage a stone beneath her foot pressed down causing the skimpily dressed woman to let out a sharp, high pitched yelp in surprised response. The trap sprung into action as multiple long silvery spikes jutted out from both walls, several of these deadly spikes perforating the young woman. This sudden impalement certainly surprised Pravus to some extent. It was evident now that this place wasn't just any facility. With deliberate death traps that seemed somewhat excessive for mere security measures it appeared to him that this structure was built for the purpose of challenging those placed within it. The penalty for failure was also clear.

Pravus was not present for the opening introduction and explanation of the Black Rabbit so he was not aware that death in this dungeon was temporary. To him this poor young soul had just had her life cut brutally short. It was most unfortunate in his eyes. More unfortunate to him however was that she needed to be buried now and there was little dirt around. He contemplated digging a hole through the floor but he pondered if that would count towards damaging the walls of this facility and disqualify him. Considering how failure was rectified here he didn't want to oppose the rules and take his life into his own hands. The only option here was to take the body with him until he completed the task set to him by the scroll after which he hoped he would be able to go and find suitable earth for her burial.


He was not about to simply rush heedlessly along and simply grab the now deceased woman after seeing her come to her end at the hands of the architect who designed these death traps. Holding his shovel at the neck, just below the head, he reached out and tapped the various tiles that the floor before him consisted of to check for triggers without putting himself at risk. Even undead as he was he didn't want to take the damage as it would hamper him greatly and the less hampered he was the better. The hall preceding the spike trap was safe as he made his way across to the narrow opening filled with long sharp metal spikes.

He saw the depression in the floor as the trigger was held down by the woman's body. He deducted that the center of the passage was one long trigger. The way through was to step around the middle, keeping one's back to the walls as this was a narrow stretch of the hallway indeed. Firstly, however, he would need to deal with the matter of the dead body that was holding down the trigger first. Closer to her now he could see from an objective view point that this woman was quite lovely. Had he still been alive he might of felt something for her, well, before she was violently stabbed to death. An interesting detail he spotted was the matter of the harp.

The elegantly crafted golden harp she possessed was completely undamaged despite having had spikes clearly go right through it. Back to the matter of the trap itself he knew he would need to pull the body off of the trigger before the spikes would retract, allowing passage once again. He used the edges of his shovel's head to drag both the woman and her harp back to him. Now that her body was off the trigger the spikes retreated back into their holes, waiting once more for another victim to puncture.

Pravus grabbed the body of the unknown woman by the waist, hoisting her up onto his shoulder in a single shoulder carry. With the corpse on one arm and the harp in another he was now ready to pass through the trap. Cautiously he inched along the wall, taking care to not touch the trigger with his feet in any way. Slowly but surely he made it past but this was only the first obstacle. He most certainly did not look forward to having to face them with all this extra weight slowing him down somewhat. Still, despite the threat of dangers looming around every corner he pressed on. his eyes watched the environment keenly and his shovel held firmly in his grip prodded the path ahead of him, always careful of traps in whatever forms they might come in.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Dan Breeze Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by duramon
River had began to disperse into the maze along with the crowd, however he found himself caught and pausing in wait for the girl whom he'd comforted. To become attached was weakness,but if he were to complete the third goal despite its ludicrous notions then things would be better for him, better then scraping from one home to the next at the very least. To complete it however he'd need a group, more then simply himself and his own powers no matter what confidence he had in them. He tapped his foot impatiently, growling at the lost time that was floating by him in the form of a rushing and maddened crowd, desperate to complete any of the three challenges no matter the cost or the likelihood of their deaths.

Few things were more dangerous then a desperate mob with no hints of predictability, however it seemed he might not have to deal with them. For after everyone had funneled into the maze safe for himself, the girl, and the spectators. A thump resounded across the barren wastelands, one that made his ears stand upright above his hair and his tail flick out of the back of his pants, twitching and curling nervously as his cat-like eyes began to peer into the horizon, past the crowds and The Rabbit woman to the rolling dead hills and all to familiar piles of wastelandic 'sand', and he was not the only one for The Rabbit ignored the girl before him and pricked her long ears in the same direction as River. Something was coming, something big.


Standing atop the hill, a large wolven man clad in black and bronze armour stood growling. A large cleaver hefted over his shoulder and a curved blade resting at his waist next to a twitching claw, he had heard the rumors of The Nameless reforming and reported it to his leader, unfortunately they had decided to saddle out for an assault on the recruitment and he had been picked to give the orders.

His one glowing white eye stared across the large field in between them and their quarry, energy crackling around the rim of his only means of vision, the other eye covered by a pitch-black patch of cloth that curved around behind his twitching white ears. His fur was mottled and patchy in places due to deep scarring, dirt, or dried blood he still hadn't gotten around to fully removing. A weak looking man rushed up beside him, half swallowed by his leather armour and fidgeting before the wolf gave the okay for him to speak.

"The recruits have already entered the maze sir, T-they have The Rabbit and Aizen but the rest of them are just children, maybe teenagers at most. They have a few minor players and guild members with Aizen but they're just as the rumors stated. Completely incapable of fighting us back....sir." The little man fumbled out,before receiving a nod and rushing off back to the safety of the rear guard. This was going to go easier then expected, the wolf too was new to the garden and so The Nameless were simply a group of people that he had been ordered to kill. Something he was going to carry out no matter what the cost.

Besides, even if he were merciful he doubted they could defeat the army he had at his back, whilst small in numbers and barely considered seasoned the warriors behind him were confident and loyal, not to mention they were made almost entirely of mindless black husks who he spared no sympathy for. They were simply shadows made to flesh, warriors birthed from stolen memories and given the tools of their trade, bar the leather clad messenger and a few select officers within the army, the loss of men was completely forgivable and boringly simple to rectify once he returned to his master.

The wolf yawned once and then snarled, raising his cleaver into the air before shoving it forward with a roar that echoed across the empty and silent wastes. Lines of the husks rushed past him, a black river of shadow that bent around him like a solid boulder lodged in the bed of the wastelandic sands below the mass, finally they finished rushing past and headed for the small crowd and rival guild. The sands felt like home, if not only to him, it was a pity he would have to stain them with similar blood with all one hundred of his black husks.

A shadow flitted next to him for a moment as a women dressed in flowing black cloth appeared by his side, shadows dancing in her palm and a large spider climbing around her person with a small swarm in tow of it, followed by a large lion man clad in armour not unfitting a paladin, a massive kite shield by his side, a large hammer held in his opposing hand. Slowly his own group of officers amassed; An elemental of flowing silver, A flower-like warrior with curving purple blades, Something akin to a diseased ridden humanoid rat and an otherwordly fully armoured man wielding no visible weapon. They were a strange and mismatched bunch who had been only days before pieced together from a similar summoning to that which The Black Rabbit had just taken the time to do at the base of what was once a mountain.

With a grunt, a nod and an insane giggle the small group walked at a brisk pace behind their army, allowing themselves time to judge what they'd be facing, if anything at all. In the background the thumping continued and eventually made itself known as a behemothic golem peaked over the hill they had previously stood upon, the golem had been just in case they required any kind of siege but it would more then likely join the battle at its own pace. Long after the wolf and his group would arrive at the scene to its own disappointing realization.




Rivers eyes widened and he gritted his teeth at the sudden appearance of the horde, a wolven man stood out to him and his sharp teeth bit through his bottom lip, blood dripping down his chin as he watched the plague of warriors,no,shadows, rush across the wastelands towards them and the group of young. Black Rabbit saw them just before he did and immediately pushed past the girl, Aizen suddenly behind her and gesturing to the crowd to take shelter in the booth, the various other guild members that had taken seats in their with him also amongst the crowd to help them in any way they could to be comfortable and more importantly safe inside the booth.

The Maze would suddenly begin to glow yellow, whaning and fading in and out of existence before shattering like illusionary glass, leaving the participants standing even more confused then they ever had been at the third sudden change they'd experienced in such a short amount of time, Rabbit wasted no time on politeness or frivolities and frantically brought the spear microphone to her lips and roared to the startled group as familiar golden portals opened up along a wide line behind the participants.

"All Participants, evacuate back to your worlds! The event has been called off, I repeat, evacuate to your own worlds! We are under attack and for your own safety you must return home!" The message was clear enough, but in case they had any white knights in the group she bit her lip and spoke into the microphone once more despite the obvious and blatant lie "We can handle everything here, step through the portals and leave this place!" she ordered before tearing the microphone from its place between the blades and running off to assist Aizen and the others in making sure those unable to fight were safe.

Before heading to stand at the base of the hill leading up to the mountain, her golden spear in one hand as she spread her legs and got into a fighting position. A yellow rune opening up below her and glowing brightly as Aizen and the various others joined her side, now they had the agonizing job of waiting for the husks to get close enough for an opportune charge.

River however wasn't going to let them do so alone, instead of retreating through the portals he rushed forward and stood by a woman garbed in a somewhat revealing red and gold cloth dress. She emenated a pinkish aura and gave him a serious nod and a nervous smile before bringing her arms in front of her in a cross to prepare her magic, eight pink arms flourishing behind her as she did so. River simply nodded in return and began his own preparations, his breathe coming out as frost and his shardic wings tearing through his back with a loud and painful rip that left him doubled over and groaning, however he had no time to rest and was helped up by a supporting hand from the woman beside him.

Once he stood upright he took the same position as the woman beside him,hoping it would help in some way as small crystals of ice began to prick through his skin and grow across his rapidly cooling body. His fiery red hair and eyes standing out from his now blueish skin, he grunted heavily and swept one hand out across the distant hill that sat around three quarters from where the hoard had begun, large pillars and sharp spines of Ice erupting and growing into a small forest-like crystalline wall between them and their foes.

The action earned him a grateful nod and even an encouraging thumbs up from a few of the guild members as he bent doubled over and huffing, others were too concentrated on preparation and gathering enough mana for the long-lasting fight they were assuredly heading into. However the wall would seem to become useful sooner rather then later at this rate.

The Plague had already reached the half-way point.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by Zalgo
Pravus stepped through the dim hallways, the strange woman's corpse resting on his shoulders. Just as he was coming to a circular room the walls began to flicker. All the surfaces around him began to turn yellow as the entire facility disintegrated before him. He stood in a fairly spread out crowd of people, all contestants participating in the same challenge he was faced with. This radical change of scenery was this buildings most impressive capability yet in his eyes.
The ability to completely remove an entire building while leaving it's occupants where they last stood? Quite the magic indeed He mused before the new situation made itself more pertinent.

"All Participants, evacuate back to your worlds! The event has been called off, I repeat, evacuate to your own worlds! We are under attack and for your own safety you must return home!"

Another strange woman, this one sporting a pair of rabbit's ears, spoke into a microphone attached to a golden spear. He noticed the fine spear and began to wonder just what it was made of.
Depending on the material I may see to acquiring myself a weapon of similar make Pravus's mind dwelled on the topic of the spear no longer as a golden portal appeared behind him. Looking back he stared back at the portal that had just opened, contemplating a difficult choice. He could enter the portal and bury the body he was holding, being done with it and moving back onto the remaining people of his city. On the other hand he did not know whether or not the body would remain with him upon entering the portal.

"We can handle everything here, step through the portals and leave this place!"

Now that the rabbit woman mentioned it he turned to assess the threat. About a hundred shadow warriors clad in leather armor and armed with basic iron swords and wooden shields, some with helmets. At the back of their ranks stood six unique lieutenants and one who he assumed commanded the magically animated army charging his position. Judging by the lack of cohesiveness and the rather barbaric approach to the armies charge it became apparent to Pravus that these shadow warriors were rather green when it came to warfare. It stirred a sense of nostalgia in his mind and in his heart as he looked upon the the horde approaching them.

Memories of scarcely armored Ru'ulian barbarians charging their lines, their bodies painted with magical inks. He recalled the sound of their druids singing foreign magics, trees and various elements of the forest animating to fight alongside them. Watching the rabbit woman set up a magical circle around the other warriors while they marshalled their forces to her reminded him of his own shield and spear rows as they stood in tightly knit lines awaiting the inevitable clash. Seeing the various mages of the group casting their spells over the approaching enemies took his memory back to all those moments right before the engage when the imperial mages would cast their artillery magic, laying waste to the enemy with wide spread energy strikes before they got too close to their line, clearing a majority of the Ru'ulian's before they could even engage the shield wall. The impending battle that was to occur here woke the soldier within him.

Gently he set the dead woman's body on the cold stone floor. He reached up and closed her eyes before standing up straight again. "I will find time to bury you yet. I must stay and assist in the battle for now.
There will be plenty of bodies to bury on this day." He spoke to the cold corpse on the floor despite knowing that her soul could not hear him right now. With those words said to her he turned away from the dead and the portal before her to face
the oncoming shadows.

There was no way that he was going to back down from this fight. He lied to himself, telling himself that he was staying to bury the bodies of those that will die this day. He would bury the bodies, there was no doubt of that, but his reasons for why he was going ahead with this were much more personal. Being so reminiscent of his former battles he remembered the regret he felt for having always relied on the Empowerment Gems provided by the military. With those he was always a seasoned veteran with vastly superior skill and vigor to his enemies. He was never truly challenged as a result of this crutch he supported himself upon those twenty long years. He was going to prove himself. He was going to prove that he won all those battles because he was a skilled spear man, not because he was given a skilled spear man's experience artificially. Ultimately he was doing this to prove himself, not to anyone else but to himself.

The grim Grave Tender strode up to the group who stood within the yellow rune. He concluded that there was magic being used here to bolster each fighter for the fight. The strange alien looking woman had already used divine magic to bolster each of their fighter's fortitudes. He felt the power sooth his cold unfeeling flesh in a way only holy magic could as it toughened his body. He stood at the ready alongside the other fighters, taking a spear man stance with his shovel in place of an actual spear.

He was prepared to engage alongside the others when the enemy got into range. He could only hope that the apparent leader of these people, an old grizzled character not unlike many veterans back before the plague, had a battle plan more involved than just run at the enemy and hack until there's no more enemy. Without much forewarning a looming figure began to make it's presence known. A massive colossus was approaching at a leisurely pace. The shadow of the colossus was starting to grow across the field they were going to be fighting in. Behind his mysterious, unnerving mask the ends of Pravus's lips bent ever so slightly into a smirk.

Things are going to get interesting real soon.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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Kaula stood at the start of the maze. As the rest of the participants darted ahead, Kaula stood still. She closed her eyes as smokey black shadows swirled about her body. She had switched from her usual slim black leather backless dress for a tight black sleeveless fighter's tunic, her Veerynian spinal choker still firmly attached to her back, and some fighter's slacks.

She no longer looked like the Princess of Vee-Ryn but a fighter. Which shocked her father when he saw her before the match.

"You look...." The Demon Lord eyed his daughter. "Strong?" Kaula hopped. "Different." He stated and Kaula for a small moment wanted to hear his pride for her but no. Nothing. She'd given him a second chance for a moment and he blew it.

"Do not fail." He said as her ride awaited her. Kaula shook her head. "I don't fail." She said and walked off, ignoring the ride waiting for her. She wanted nothing more from him.

She had made her waytoward the recruitment center and some people looked shocked to see a Veerynian woman here, women of Vee-Ryn rarely fought, they were housemaidens if anything, so they thought.

She stood in the longest of lines but waited patiently. Finally at her turn, she was asked to state her name. "Kaula Vee-Ryn, Of Vee-Ryn City."

Everyone around her looked shocked as the realization of the Demon Princess stood before them, most looked on in distain. Kaula held her head high regardless, she knew her plans here involved nothing but the downfall of her father's reign.

Nothing would stand in her way.



The Shadows swirled around. her, then formed three black copies of her. The three shadow copies darted away, each other taking different routes through the maze and each time one succumb to a trap or a dead end, it would disappear relaying the information back to Kaula, until Kaula was able to simply walk through the maze.

About midway, Kaula heard the intercom and looked up.

"All Participants, evacuate to your worlds, the event have been called off. I repeat, evacuate to your own worlds. We are under attack. For your own safety, please return home!"

Kaula watched the Rabbit girl at the microphone and frowned.

She was not going home.

Not when she was so close.

"We can handle everything here,step through the portals and leave this place!"

Kaula then saw them. The horde of Shadow creatures, marching, attacking everything and everyone. They weren't Veerynian, they wouldn't be foolish enough to interrupt the Princess. This was not her father's doing, and so she would have not a problem with destorying them all. Kaula's body disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and reappeared in the midst of a large army march. Chaos was sure to follow as they were coming closer. It was then she noticed a familar figure as she looked around. Her eyes widened as the memory struck her.

"River!"

The setting changes from phyrexian-grassland to The Garden

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by Ankti
The stones before her turned a pale yellow and for a moment she thought she’d solved the puzzle. She had been sure some of the bricks were false, hiding a passage. But it didn’t make sense, nothing she’d yet done should have worked.

She ran her small, furry fingers over them and they changed again, looking more solid, then less. Finally they shattered without a sound or debris, and she touched only open air. It was not just the wall before that vanished, there was no maze, no walls, only the other creatures brought for the test.

All looked confused, many expecting ambush, other ready to attack. The rabbit woman’s voice sounded out, asking them to leave as doors appeared. Tiotio turned over the idea that this was just another test, but the rabbit’s voice was that of a commander before a battle, not something to be doubted.

The only thing that waited Tiotio through those doors was a long trek across the world to end up just where she was now. She’d wanted to learn of the Nameless, and they were here, under attack.

The leaders stood ready for battle, and a wall of ice went up between them and the approaching enemy. Around her contestants chose, many vanishing into doors. Those that stayed looked determined.

The army descended from a hill, giving the Nameless a clear view of what they faced. The Nameless would have an advantage, time to set up defenses and prepare while the enemy closed the distance.

Tiotio located the leaders at the rear of the horde, a strategically smart position, but one that lacked bravado. Either the leaders did not care to inspire their troops, or their troops were not in need of inspiration. She wondered if the walking mountain had anything to do with the armies apparent confidence.

She leapt into the air, using her staff for leverage as she crossed the ground that once contained the maze, making her way toward the Nameless who readied for battle. She vaulted over the top of the rabbit woman’s head and reached her hand down, playfully slapping at her pointed ear. Her feet hit the ground before them and she pushed off one more time, leaping to the top of one of the huge spikes of ice.

Her toes gripped the tip of the spike, so cold one would not be able to hold it without the kind of training Tiotio had been through, training that allowed one to ignore physical pain when concentration was necessary.

The warriors spread before her were unfamiliar in build, but quite familiar in type. They moved like a pack of revon-rats - vicious jungle creatures that attacked in huge numbers, overwhelming their prey. Any one could be killed with ease, but together they could bring down animals twenty times their size.

They reeked of death, but moved with purpose like the living. If she wanted to fight them she could either fight them one on one, or take a more agile defense, doing little damage to each, but distracting them long enough to give others chance to strike them.

From the spike she had a clear view of the leaders, and in any other situation besides impending battle she would have leapt across the field to investigate them closely. They were as fascinating, if not more so, than those who lead the Nameless. You could learn a great deal about a man from his enemy, and so her curiosity about the Nameless might be satisfied in the company of these newcomers.

She spun to look at those below her, the rabbit woman with her strange staff, the seasoned warrior who’d watched them so intently in the maze, and many of the contestants, coming to their kidnapper’s aid. She had no loyalty to them, but, it would be easier to fight with the Nameless. They seemed, at least, to want to new fighters.

So she waited, when the warriors broke their way through the ice, she would drop into their midsts and keep the attention of as many of them as possible so the others could strike killing blows.

The setting changes from the-garden to Phyrexian Grassland

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by Ritnio
She ended up ditching the rabbit to follow River once she realized he had left. Moving surprisingly fast for an apparent human, she managed to find River... but she also found herself in the same mess as River. In her rush she hadn't heard the announcement and simply assumed this was part of the trial.

Having no emotions had its benefits as she wasn't afraid of the massive amount of er...just what the hell ARE those things? That didn't matter, what did matter was coming out of this half-alive. She giggled at the self depreciating pun and drew her Roukanken.

All the lessons her Master taught her went through her head as she readied herself. She stopped her breathing completely and focused on nothing but her enemy. Her grey eyes narrowed. Her grip tightened.

The world around her seemed to just fade away as nothing was left but her and the hoard of shadows. And then, much to the surprise and horror of the others... She rushed forward the enemy, strange magic caused her sword to glow with a white aura. Not knowing nor caring what will happen to her, She continued her advance.

Just like the time in the forest, she heard her master's voice once more, "Just worry about doing what you yourself want to do."

She thought about what the hoard could do if they defeated her and the others. The chaos...the tragedy... She dismissed those thoughts. She would never let that happen. What she herself wanted to do was defend those who cannot do so themselves.

"As long as there are things I must protect behind me.... I will stand firm again, and hundreds of times more!"

She said this before drawing her Hakuroken. She came to a stop, halfway between the oncoming hoard and everybody else. She didn't care what happened to her. She would do everything in her power to stop them so that nobody else will have to suffer the way she did. Taking up the special stance taught to her by Master Youki, she was ready for her final lesson... Death.

"Master... please guide my blade"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Dan Breeze Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by duramon
River looked around as others seemed to join the fray, a monkey woman even leaping onto his little forest and the young girl from earlier charging ahead and yelling something into the wind. He couldn't help but smile slightly, even as he staggered into an up right position and began to nearly trip over himself as he too shuffled into the fray, stopped by the calling of his name by a familiar demon he hadn't expected to see, his smile widened and he waved weakly
"Fancy seeing you here! It's been far too long, couple hundred years I believe, The catch up will have to wait! We have a horde of undead on our hands and not a lot of time, if we both make it out alive sign me up for a coffee and cake!" He half-joked as he stumbled past them quickly "I have no money, so you're paying!" He called over his shoulder teasingly as he carried on ahead. He could support in the back with his ice but to do that he needed energy, and the only place he was getting that was from the front-lines within the hordes of husks, and whilst the idea was idiotic and foolish in his current state. For an Incubus that was the only real option available to him other then siphoning the life away from his allies, a somewhat redundant and even more foolish idea considering he was attempting to help them.

By the time he had staggered to the first spine of ice, a flit of black caught his eye, leaving him to squint for a moment unsure whether or not he'd been seeing things until the dash of shadow appeared again. A lone husk sprinting through the spines ahead of the others with barely any equipment, it seemed to be a scout designed to test their capabilities and how jumpy they were, a sacrificial lamb and by the other flits and glimpses of black he saw from within the forest he was sure they had sent quite a few for that sole purpose. 'The husks may be smarter then they appear' he mused, pressing his back against the spine before weakly flinging his arm out as the husk sprinted towards him, his hand wrapping around its skull whilst his leg muscles pushed against the earth and in turn propelled the being into the ground barely hard enough to stun it for a moment. However it was all the time he required for in a second the Incubus was atop the husk, raising a fist and smashing it into the monsters face, black inky bloody splattering his hand and clothing as he raised his arm again this time pressing the limb against the things face.

River smirked, feeling the traces of a tormented soul flow into him, his veins sticking out through his skin and pumping the monstrosity's life force into his body, The Incubus's arm convulsing and the veins dancing along with the rich taste of energy until he finally released the husk. He could at least use some basic abilities and move around now, the husk's weren't exactly the most bountiful source he could have found but they would do until he could get something bigger. The Incubus raised a strong leg and smashed it down on the shriveled husks face, caving in the beings skull and splattering the same inky blood up his jean leg and leaving traces of the same blood on his cheeks which he quickly wiped away.

If this was their strength then they might just have a chance, or so he thought until he felt the first of the miasma touch the far off tree, the ground trembling with the rapid thumping of dozens of pairs of feet. The flits of black had turned into an all consuming wave of darkness, the scouts having already passed for the main force to determine their strength, the real battle was about to start and he thought back to his friend Rains words on a drunken night.

'Fighting is glorious, but war is simply a game of survival' and for the first time in his life, as the army neared the small force he would fight beside, he knew exactly what he had been talking about. Survival was the best they needed to hope for.


The Horde had arrived at The Nameless' front door step and The Officers strolled leisurely behind, all but one had not reached the spines yet, the disgusting twitchy rat having jumped and sprinted around until Apex finally allowed the rodent to go up ahead, his bells jingling in tune with his glee as he followed the army of husks. The rest would lag behind for now, they preferred more impressive and perhaps even honourable prey and Pestel and the black soldiers would more then likely be enough in their minds.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Dan Breeze Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by Ritnio
Aera was seemingly over her head. If it weren't for the fact her ghost half can make relatively weak copies of her, she'd be still alive yes, but in a worse position. Each copy had roughly the same strength as a husk, more or less anyway. Her arms tired, she was bleeding badly but she continued on, determined to at least lessen the number of husks and thus lessen the damage they caused.
Image

To the naked eye, it seemed as if it was only her, surrounded by husks. However, to those who can sense or see spirits... They would see that the girl wasn't alone. 6 ghostly copies of the girl fought beside her. 6 was all Aera could control as she needed the remainder of her strength to fight. Her, her other half, and the 6 copies cut-off the second half of the hoard of husks. This was to buy as much time as possible for the others below. She wanted to hold back some of the oposing forces to allow them to recuperate, for the real enemy drew near.

Thoughts of self doubt began to cloud her mind as she fought her losing battle. Thoughts of being incapable of accomplishing her goal. Thoughts of letting everybody down because she was too weak. Her cut was no longer clean, but jagged as she became distracted by fear and doubt.

"Why...Why am I fighting such a losing battle? I had the chance to flee but I didn't...I thought I could be of some use... But I have barely done anything useful. Their number hasn't decreased at all and there is still more of them. I'm a failure.... I have shamed you Master...for this is a battle which I cannot win..."

"Maybe, but don't you realize those are the only kind worth fighting for? However, you will only lose to your enemy if you first lose to yourself. Your determination, your will, and most importantly, those who you are fighting for. Those are what will allow you to prevail, losing battle or not. As long as you keep in mind who it is you are fighting to protect and why it is you are doing so for them, then nothing can stand in your way."

Those were the last words her Master ever spoke to her before his disappearance. That's it! That was the lesson he left her to learn! He never left because she wasn't good enough, he left because he had nothing more to teach her. His final lesson was to overcome the self-doubt within herself.

Aera smiled at the realization. She was no longer tired, no longer in pain, no longer in doubt. She gripped her swords tightly and fought with newly found determination. Her copies were destroyed but herself and other half continued to fight. Whereas before they had barely put a dent in the population of the husks, their number was now dwindling fast. (Her half anyway)

It felt as though her Master was there, by her side. She felt stronger and more confident. She ignored all pain and injury, there was still a knife in her lower left leg from a while ago but she remained oblivious to it. The only thing that mattered to her was defeating the current enemy.

Her energy was waning from sustaining large amounts of damage, losing plenty of blood and nearly exhausting her life force by summoning those copies. Some husks managed to get by her but those which did not were no more. After defeating as many husks as she could, she did not rest. Instead she prepared to fight the officers which were slowly making their way to her position. Knowing she would probably not make it out alive she went to go make the first strike but passed out from fatigue and blood loss. Her swords clattered to the ground and her blood stained the soil and mixed with the blood of the husks. Everything had just gone black. Panicking that its physical body had just collapsed and was no longer conscious, the ghostly half of Aera was desperately trying to put up a barrier to protect its body and itself but to no avail.

All hope had seemed lost as her body lay un-moving and face down in the dirt, at the mercy of whoever found her body.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Dan Breeze Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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"Fancy seeing you here! It's been far too long, couple hundred years I believe, The catch up will have to wait! We have a horde of undead on our hands and not a lot of time, if we both make it out alive sign me up for a coffee and cake!" River said after a meek wave. Kaula rushed over to his side. " I have no money, so you're paying." He said moving ahead. " You are still as impossible as ever, River, Must you jest." She said and soon, the undead creatures were upon them.

Kaula watched as they used abilities similar to hers. She smirked.

"Amateurs..." She sneered and disappeared in a plump of smoke. She then reappeared behind one of the creatures, sent a sharpened shadow tendrils through it's back and then in the same fluid motion, she sliced it's head clean off. She looked around for more to as she took a stance beside River. So far, he was the only person she knew and mildy trusted, maybe if she stuck close enough, he could lead her to the Nameless and subsequently Aizen.


(Sorry it's so short ._.)

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Dan Breeze Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by Zalgo
Pravus stood firm as the forces engaged the Nameless's line. These shadow beings wear armor, carry shields. They care about whether they live or die, if only to kill more later or perhaps they may actually value their own lives I cannot tell. All that matters is that they do. Perhaps, just maybe, I can get the upper hand if not through strength then through superior technique and tactics. His mind raced, plotting his strategy for the eminent clash.

His attention was drawn by a particular swordswoman who rushed past the front line and stood against the masses of unnatural barbarians. Her bravery could not be faulted, even if it was ill advised. What drew his attention more than anything else however was her spirit. Her spirit lived separate from her body and yet both operated fine apart yet tethered somehow. Using her own energy she spawned six ghostly copies of herself, an interesting application of such strange spiritual magic. As she engaged her foes however his concern was ripped away by his attackers efforts.

He took a step back, just out of range of a wild thrust from one of these strange shadow warrior's longsword. Using his attackers wild rush against him he thrust the head of his shovel forth, piercing through it's throat all the way to it's spine. His foe could only stagger back and fall, gurgling black ichor from the wide slice taken out of it's neck. As the ones behind it were halted by the collapsing body of one of their friends he took that time to take out the enemies engaging the rag-tag crew of entities for which he was fighting for, specifically the one's directly next to him. Their armor is minimal. They wear leather to guard their torso's and helms to shield their skulls but their arms, their legs and their necks are wide open. I need not kill my enemies when it is faster to cripple them for others to finish off. He planned it all out. He swung his shovel in two exaggerated sweeping cuts in the form of an X, chopping directly through two legs leaving only one leg for each of the two shadows. They collapsed to the ground like trees felled by an axe, struggling to try and continue fighting from their prone positions only to be easily dispatched by his fellow Nameless.


Now his enemies were struggling to reach him over the bodies of their fallen comrades. The time it was taking them to try and pass without tripping or getting their feet caught on something was more than long enough for him to cut them down, adding another body to what was quickly becoming an effective barrier from the direction his foes were charging him from. As the chaos of the combat broiled on he noticed the significant effort of the blade wielding girl as she held off a large portion of the attacking force, diverting them from the main assault. As she fought on though the fatigue of combat was beginning to show quite clearly in her technique. Her cuts started to become sloppy, her stance wavering. Towards the later portion of her battle she made one last ditch effort, showing a modicum of skill return as she finally cut through the majority of her opposition. At long last however she ran ahead only to collapse. She and her spirit companion were left to the mercy of the battlefield.

He would not normally abandon a strong position to rescue a soldier who in their own right deserved to die for their foolishness but she was a unique case. In all his life there were very few people who could actually interact with spirits like he could and the people who could often used dubious magic to accomplish such feats. Whether or not she accomplished this bizarre symbiotic condition with her own spirit with spiritual magic was a question he would need to ask later. All he could do now was go and defend her incapacitated body for her spirit. It was not the wisest tactic in such harrowing times but he felt it would be tragic to let such a rare development simply die in the field of battle along with the rest of them.


Disengaging from the wall of oncoming shadows he sprinted around the line, coming to the swordwoman's aid with great haste. He arrived just in time as five shadow warrior's had strayed from the main body, a couple after him and the others out to finish off the girl. He noticed that one of his pursuers was somewhat faster than the other, a detail he could take advantage of. In a fluid sweeping motion Pravus swung his shovel in a full circle around him, taking the first warrior off guard as it is difficult to keep one's defense up at a full sprint. The shovel decapitated the first warrior without pause. He stepped back, watching to see what the other pursuing shadow would do. In a rather aerial display the second warrior used the body as a ramp, jumping off of it into the air in an attempt to come down Pravus blade first.

Flashy but ultimately doomed. Pravus stabbed his shovel upwards into the falling shadow, stabbing into it's guts. Before it's momentum was finished however he used the speed of the warrior's jump, pushing it's body along a set path using his shovel and guided it's trajectory directly into the group of three shadows just ahead of him. The body collapsed upon them just as they were about to drive their sword down into the swordswoman's body, knocking the three down and trapping them temporarily beneath their fallen brethren. After that all Pravus had left to do there was quickly walk about them, decapitating each one with a swift chop of his shovel.

With that business out of the way he approached the fallen body of the swordswoman and the spirit guarding her however it could. He couldn't help her right now while the battle was still in full motion, he would only get attacked as he tried to patch her wounds. The only thing he could do was to move her body out of the way before rejoining the ranks of Nameless once again. There was the matter of her spirit protector first. He would not wish to upset it by taking it's body away without it's consent. He was about to speak to it when he caught a glance of what this young swordswoman was trying for. While the rest of this armies leaders strode leisurely onto the battle field there was one that was joining into the back ranks of the shadow army, quickly trying to makes it's way forward.


This creature was a most repugnant beast indeed. It's state of appearance told well enough about it but he could see beyond the simple visage of a plagued rat. The black finger marks of disease coated it's body like war paint, similar to the touch of the evil spirits which ended his world. This being was something that in Pravus's eyes should not be. The fact that a living being would willingly spread plagues to others out of malice or worse, enjoyment, filled his heart with an anger he didn't even know he could possess. The fact this sick perversion of nature still drew breath infuriated him.

Despite the plague rat's presence he still had the body with the strange spirit to attend to. He was torn, divided between his desire to end the rat's life and bury it's lifeless corpse so that it may hurt no one anymore and his duty to attend to the needs of the spirits. He was caught, trapped between desire and responsibility. It was an agonizing choice as choosing either option would lead to a biting, unfulfilled anger. In the end, he could only choose one.

He chose his duty over his hatred. No matter how horrible a creature that rat may be it would not tempt him to forsake a spirit in need. He turned back to the fallen swordswoman's spirit, looking straight into it's eyes through the cold glass lenses in his mask. "Spirit, I ask you this. May I move this body of yours into safety?" His deep, stern voice echoed in his mask. Though muffled slightly by his long beaked mask the meaning of his words came through clearly.

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Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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Ivan looked on as some of the other contestants rushed towards the army of shades, none really stood out. But two of the contestants caught his eye, one undead warrior armed with a shovel and a young female swordfighter. The undead man in his victorian style plague doctor suit stood out to him for quite obvious reasons, after those decades of hunting down the undead he could recognise them in the pitch black sewers of Thylysium, it wasn't realy an art merely as case of following ones nose and ones instincts when you have been around them for so long. The swordfighters courage and skill, not to mention her shadow images, are what made her catch Ivans eye. At least it meant there were more on the battlefield, enough to turn this uphill battle into their favor. He too now made his way forward towards the army of husks.

In the distance he saw the girl fall to the ground amidst the husks. "Foolishness and arrogance will take those who forget the existance of their limits." He thought, it was a thruth that was often mentioned in books and scrolls. It perhaps would have been no more than normal for her to die right there and then. But no, the undead he spotted earlier was making his way towards her, fending off the husks as they tried to go in for a killing blow. Now there was a chance to save her. Perhaps it was because in all those years he never really saved anyone, just putting down those who were beyond saving, or perhaps the oath, but he knew he had to help her and her undead saviour to get out of there safely.

As Ivan ran towards the two as fast as his legs could carry, he noticed the ratlike creature make it's way towards them too. The undead man seemed to have had some form of combat training, at least as far as he could tell from how he handled the husks, but both saving that girl and keeping that rat away would most likely be impossible alone. Hoping for the best he trew a large fireball at the husks beyond the undead, the girl and the rat. The fireball exploded upon impact with one of the husks faces, taking it, the surrounding husks and a small bit of the earth underneath the husk out with the blast. At the very least it would deter any other husks from getting close, he reasoned as he looked at the blast.

As he came close to the undead man and the girl he could take a better look at the rat. It's disease ridden body reminded him of the vile abominations often found in the sewers, only thing that really set them appart was the hairy body and perhaps the tail. He saw the undead man head for the girl trying to resque her after some hessitation on what to do. Perhaps it had been better for him if the undead man had taken up the fight to the rat. Unlike Ivan the undead man probably wasn't suseptable to dissease. He ran and took his position between the undead man and the rat, spraying flames in the general direction of the rat. With his one free hand he took his dyed ribbon and wrapped it around his mouth and nose. "Get her out of here, I'll cover your retreat!" Ivan yelled at the undead man, as he kept the stream of flames aimed at the rat. Fire and heat are perfect for dealing with dissease, it would also prevent the rat from closing in with that mace without burning alive.

The setting changes from phyrexian-grassland to The Garden

Setting

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Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis
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#, as written by Ankti
It was all too exciting. The flurry of battle and the dedication of the warriors. Tiotio’s plan to join the fight vanished from her mind as she was consumed with the scene before her. The ghost girl’s sword cut down more of the enemy than should be possible for such a small thing, and the beak mask made a mound of those he felled.

She had never seen fighting on this scale. She had fought, and killed, but almost always alone, always against handful of opponents. The organic flow of the battle hypnotized her into a meditative state. The battle was a living being, made up of individuals who could not see their part in the whole. The enemy leaders stood back, not fighting, but as much a part of the fight as any, ready to strike forward. Only the diseased rat joined his troops, disturbing his own men in his fervor to clash with the Nameless.

When the ghost girl fell Tiotio’s trance ended. That had been one of her presumptive allies. The girl had been fighting to protect Tiotio as much as anyone, and now she was fallen.

She leapt high in the air, off the ice spikes and down into the fray. The first soldier she landed on was too startled to put up a defence, and she thrust her bo down, driving him to the ground. She hopped off and brought the bo around, striking at the neck. She knew he was dead by the satisfying crunch of bones breaking. Her bo, now covered in a blackish-red pulp swung and struck as she leapt through the soldiers, dealing no more killing blows, but crippling legs and arms.

The blast of heat that shot out from one of the recruits singed her left arm, the arm that still bleed from the dwarf’s acid. The rat shrunk back from the fire, but it’s jaws were still split in a wide grin, drool and vile liquid dripping from lip and fange.

“Put the fire down!” She screamed, not bothering to see if the man responded as she leapt in the air.

She pulled a vial of the dwarf’s acid from her sack and landed on the rat’s shoulders, willing her feet to stay planted on such a grotesque form. She thrust the vial into one bulbous eye and slammed the bo down after it.

She used the force of her attack to propel herself away and land back on the ground.

A light, or a fire, maybe another magic door, shone so bright it distracted all, and heads turned to the forest of ice. It was a woman, and the enemy flocked to her, ignoring the battle. A scream rang out, not pain, or anger, so loud it made the cacophony of battle seem a quiet whisper.

The setting changes from the-garden to Phyrexian Grassland

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by duramon
Pestel


Pestel had been happily spreading his plague, dancing about and chittering with glee at all the new things to corrupt. Until someone started trying to roast him alive, he was not happy with being rat stew and before he could swear profoundly at the attacker a Monkey Woman! landed on his shoulder and threw acid into his eye with a big stick, Pestel was anything but happy! Luckily for him he had tricks of his own and a gleeful grin returned to his disgusting features, his clothes had been charred and burnt but the fire had stopped and simply revealed his mottled and even more disturbing skin beneath the items of clothing.

He had received no damage from the acid, nor the bo, nor the flames. Most would assume that the great golem or the man in armour were the hardest to kill but they were always wrong, he thought of himself as Rumpelstiltskin, nobody could guess his name in a thousand years. Pestel was the king of resistance!, his body weathered and scarred and disease ridden to the point of making him immune to all but few attacks. The flames had diverted around him at the call of various gases to repel the magical burn, the acid simply dripped harmlessly through his fur and cleansed from his eye by the rub of a grotesque furry paw that left behind smudges of green and black sludge around the rims of his source of vision.

The Plague rat jumped excitedly from one foot to the other and stuck his tongue out from between what few gnawing and holed teeth remained in his maw. Bells jingled loudly to announce his excitement and no doubt the other officers were cringing and sighing as the announcement reached them, Pestel finally stopped jigging for a split moment and raised his large glowing mace up in front of him with a grin, a sudden flux of gases tearing off what remained of his clothing and leaving behind only the fur, his chest shown to be covered in parasites, fungi, and bugs of all kind.

"Ba-Boom!" He squealed with glee, The latter rushing forth in swarms of thousands at his beck and call creating a torrent of plague carrying minions that burst towards his enemy not in a dissimilar pattern to his opponents flaming attack, a smell akin to petroleum gas hung atop the insects combined with the scent of death wafting from their master and themselves. Those insects who could not fly into the torrential storm of pestilence swarmed the ground and trudged along in an organized way not unlike the perfect army. Soldiers sorted into ranks and divisions and placed into groups of twenty or so.

Meanwhile the Rat stood in the background and hopped around from foot to foot, dancing, twirling and waving his mace like a conductors tool to direct his attack with ruthless and yet insane efficiency. He hummed a tune to himself as he danced and twirled, flicking sludge and disease across the surrounding area while he enjoyed his little show.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by Ritnio
"Y-You are on my s-side? T-Thank you mister, my name is Myon. I am Mistress Aera's soul. I do not think I could have defended Mistress Aera by myself. I-I was afraid at first as you give off the same aura as them. Please assist Mistress. I'm incapable of lifting her. If you find yourself in danger, don't play hero though, just put Mistress down and save yourself. It isn't the first time she and I have died in battle. Hm? HYAAA! A-A RAT!?"

The spirit by the name of Myon spoke in a kind manner and was pleased and relieved that somebody came to help her and Aera. She smiled and talked before seeing the rat and giving such a shrill scream that would put a Banshee's to shame. Myon, apparently, is quite different from her Mistress. She is deathly scared of rats, is very girly, and above all, she is kind and never lies.

On the other hand, she is very weak in comparison but she is the magic half of the pair so it only makes sense. If the physical body (Aera) loses consciousness then Myon can still be active. However, if Myon passes out... so does Aera.

Going back to the rat... Myon began hiding behind the shovel-wielding warrior in fear of the rat. Unlike the copies she can create, Myon can touch other solid matter with the exception of her Mistress. Her Mistress can touch her though. Myon clung to the shoulders of the warrior practically begging him to hurry along.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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Seriene cursed to herself as she saw the plague riddled creatures rise up at the beck of the diseased rodent. She looked about herself, trying to figure out where she could get a better line of sight to start casting to keep this small, seemingly ragtag army on their feet and fighting for as long as she can.
She dashed about the crowd as quickly as she could, failing to actually find a particularly elevated patch of ground close enough to the field of battle to be able to cast anything.
The priest looked about before finding a rather broad shouldered tall individual, resembling a... Well an ogre, much to her despair. She swallowed her nerves and marched up to the bulky creature, patting it on the side and causing it to look down at her.
After much wild gesturing and confused yelling at each other in different languages she found herself standing on the ogre beast's shoulders, wobbling slightly but having an excellent field of view.

Seeing the swarm of filth charging down on the front line she steeled herself and charged a spell, shouting a word "Fortuitous!" across the field of battle, a halo of silvery light surrounding the army for a moment before vanishing, her unlikely allies being filled with increased fortitude, their skin and flesh hardening for battle.
Muttering a long drawn out prayer she began to spam shields along the front line, bubbles of holy light engulfing them as well as a halo of brilliant light, giving them the speed and defense to hold the first onslaught at least.

A bead of sweat rolled down Seriene's brow as she poured her energies into the prayers and spells, her breath still steady but the strain starting to spark in her mind, her body already mostly exhausted from the battle she'd already been in, she didn't know how long she would last but she would do what she could, as long as she could.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis
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#, as written by Zalgo
"Y-You are on my s-side? T-Thank you mister, my name is Myon. I am Mistress Aera's soul. I do not think I could have defended Mistress Aera by myself. I-I was afraid at first as you give off the same aura as them."

Pravus's shadow cast over them, he listened to Myon's words with great focus. He managed to shut out a strange shrill scream which had echoed out from behind him. He was mildly impressed that she could tell his similarity to the shadow warriors currently doing battle a short ways off from them, just far enough that they were somewhat out of the general melee. Even still, none of this was far off from the general far he has had when dealing with spirits.

"Please assist Mistress. I'm incapable of lifting her. If you find yourself in danger, don't play hero though, just put Mistress down and save yourself. It isn't the first time she and I have died in battle."

He had no intention of letting the spirit's mortal half die out of self preservation. He would perform his duty until his death. Torch Bringer only knows he's been due for one for a long time now. He was however even more curious about her and her mortal self after the mention of their past deaths. The plot thickens. He made note of that detail, planning on asking a few questions as to this strange situation this one swordswoman has been placed in.

The spirit proceeded to scream, exclaiming at the rat he made note of earlier. Before he could yet act he was joined at this side of the field of war by a strange ape person and a magus of some unknown variety. The ape attempted to use some sort of alchemical weapon on the corrupt rat before leaping to safety and the magus spread a wave of flames at it. The chemicals simply washed away off the unnatural plague rat's face and the flames were buffeted back by a sickly gas conjured by the rodent.

"Get her out of here, I'll cover your retreat!" The magus yelled back to them. Though the rat monstrosity had shown no interest in him nor the spirit's fallen body it was still a welcome gesture if it meant an early grave for the putrid wretch that the rodent was. It seemed that their attacks were being rebuffed however, a concerning detail he would need to attend to when Myon's situation was no longer a pressing matter. The rat had discarded it's clothes, revealing it to be some sort of feeding ground for parasites and insects of numerous variety. It started to direct this swarm attached to it using the mace as a form of scepter of command, the insects responding to it like an orchestra responds to the maestro.

Pravus nodded to the magus in response. "If fire fails, try drowning it's swarms with water.
If that fails, the water will still serve me well." He suggested to the magus. He was already plotting the rat's demise,
numerous ideas coming to mind on how to put a stop to this living pestilence.
Most of these ideas involved a key element: Mud. Luckily the ground was still moist from the magus's earlier rainstorm.
With additional water the ground would be wet enough to be ideal.

He could feel Myon physically gripping him, urging him to move away from the plagued creature before them. This spirit didn't need to have the capability to interact with solid matter in order to touch him and vice versa. His natural gift from birth allowed him to both perceive, speak to and even physically touch spirits. If needed, he could combat a ghost if he was forced to. There was occasions when the restless spirits of the dead influenced by the natural necromantic aura of Sed would attack him in their confusion and despair. He defended himself each time, making sure to try and drive off the ghost rather than simply beat it down. To be a Grave Tender was to show mercy to the dead no matter how angry the spirit was. His role was to pacify them, to show them the respect they need.

Stepping over to Mion's fallen physical portion he knelt down onto one knee. He set his arms underneath the girls muddied body, lifting her from the ground and gently carrying her in a bridal carry. Carrying her body required care as she was gravely wounded and carrying her as he did the dead body before him would cause blood to flow improperly. This way was the safest way to transport the body even though it occupied both his hand's doing so. With the body of the swordswoman in his arms he strode back to the Nameless's lines with heavy gravitas.

As he walked along the field of battle, his attention primarily to the health of the girl he held, a couple shadow's had strayed from their mass to pick on easy prey. It was undeniable that they were both quite vulnerable at this very moment. Before they could reach them both however a divine barrier sprung forth to guard their return. The long swords of the few shadows hammered against the sphere in their attempt to get to them through this new protection. Pravus was moving as fast as he could safely move with the wounded swordswoman in his grasp and it was still barely faster than these shadow's jogging pace. It seemed as though the weapons were about to penetrate the shielding when he came up to the source of their protection: a strange looking priestess sitting atop an ogre casting healing into the ranks of the nameless.

He figured that this strange woman could heal the swordswoman, solving the problem at hand for him. As the clanging of long swords rang out around him he slowly set the body back down onto the ground, taking what seemed like forever as the divine protection surrounding them gave out before these shadow's onslaught. With a calculated calm as soon as his arms were free of the girl he spun around to face the two assailants. Using the speed and momentum of his turn he swung his shovel downwards from an overhead swing, causing the warrior to bring it's shield up, guarding it's face from the attack. By bringing it's shield in front of it's face it was now blind to his true intent as his arc dipped sharply downwards, slicing straight through the shadows thigh. The arterial spray from the wound painted the already blood coated shovel with a fresh layer to drip along the edges.

It's comrade swung wildly at him with a downward cut towards his head. He responded to this uncontrolled maneuver by stepping out of the swords range, his shovel in position in case he misjudged the swords distance. He wasn't wrong as the blade missed him, giving Pravus ample time to retaliate. He feigned a shot towards it's leg, causing the shadow to drop it's shield so that it wouldn't suffer the same fate as the other one. With an opening created he thrust the shovel's head clean through it's neck, sending the pitch black head rolling off. With an off hand strike he finished off the first shadow whom was trying to surprise him from the ground with a shovel to the helmet's face opening.

With their recent foes dispatched he turned his attention back to the unusual looking priestess. Dropping to his knees he reached down and lifted the body of the girl once again. This time however he held her wounded self up to the priestess in order to show her what he wants her to heal. "Priestess! Please heal this woman for she is wounded." He called out to the priestess atop her mighty ogre. Hopefully his words got across to her but even if she didn't speak his language the fact he was yelling to her would draw her attention. After that, this wayward warrior's health would lie upon the whims of the healer. Pravus simply remained, a pedestal to support the body while the priestess performed her divine magic's upon her.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis
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#, as written by Ritnio
Myon was slightly tired from carrying her Mistress's heavy swords while following her savior. After placing them next to her body, she drew her own ghostly versions of the swords.

"A-Ah! Look out Mister! There is one behind you!"

With that being said Myon immediately got in the way between Pravus and the husk. Crossing her swords so that the blade of the husk lands between it. Normally she would have fallen when the impact struck but she'd rather die than let somebody die for her, as would her Mistress.

Quickly thinking and acting, she had her arms pass through each other whitch caused the blades to make the same movement. In turn, this shattered the husk's weapon rendering it useless. Using the one thing she was good at, she fired a blast of spiritual energy directly into the husks face.

The miraculous thing was, the husk didn't fall to the ground dead but instead became engulfed in light and simply faded away. It looked almost happy as it did so. Myon knew why, and she suspected the warrior did as well. Myon had freed this husk in particular from the darkness within it by use of overwhelming light. Without darkness to sustain it's body the husk became light and faded away as it's existence became null in history itself.

"Mister, please let me help you. I know Mistress is safe now. I may not be good at physical combat as she is but I can assist you with my magic. Also... thank you...for risking your own life to save us... I will not be able to repay the debt in full but the least I can do is provide some backup. I have basic control over water and wind but my main affinity and expertise is light. Though I am unable to provide copies to assist, my magic should be more than enough. So please, let me help you!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Irina Neventelde Character Portrait: Niko Neventelde
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As Niko hurried from the former site of the labyrinth to the battle that was taking place between The Nameless and the shadow creatures, his eyes picked upon a scowling girl with black hair whose body, while well-toned, was much smaller than his own. Well, looks like I found her anyway, he thought. Well, what could she do against those dark creatures, though...?

"I won," his sister yawned as he approached, having already heard him from quite a distance away. "Way too easy. Fun though. What the hell do you want? Gonna bitch about how long I took? Or maybe brag about your wins? Whatever, Niko. I don't give a shit." Turning away, she muttered in a much darker and quieter voice, "Should just curse you and be done with it."

And of course, the Neventelde siblings' interactions were as terrible as ever. "Well, congratulations on your win. I'm sure they'll figure out very quickly whose side they want you on with those curses," Niko commented with a not-very-genuine smile. Seriously, he hated those curses...especially because of who taught them to her. "As for how things were going on my end, I defeated two people in the labyrinth. And I didn't exactly have as much fun as you did..." A bitter edge entered his voice. "It's not very enjoyable when you consider what happens if we lose."

Now to business. Smile fading, Niko pointed in the direction of the shadow beasts. "And speaking of your curses, why don't you save it for these guys who ruined this event?" Suddenly, he had a fun thought and put on an arrogant voice. "Ah well, if you're not up to it, you can just hide in a corner; let The Nameless, anyone who decided to stay, and me handle these moots."

Turning on his heel, he ran back towards the battle, drawing his sword and leaping over the chairs in front of him with ease, a giant smirk on his face. With that kind of insult thrown upon her, there was no way Irina wouldn't try to prove him wrong. In the meantime, he rushed into the fray, and with a shout, leapt upon the hulking monsters and threw his hands out to the side. And then, flames immediately kindled directly upon the ones beneath him, just as he swung his own flaming sword at the nightmares.

But it was best to keep moving and devastate them in as many areas as possible, wasn't it? Kicking off the face of one of the burning horrors, Niko surrounded himself in fire and ran through their ranks, slashing with wild moves and a wild grin. Everywhere he went, flames raged, burning away at the horrors without mercy. Maybe Irina was right about...this COULD actually be fun.

However, he suddenly noticed someone up ahead--a man in a brown cloak, holding a girl with silver hair who seemed to be unable to fight. Normal people. Allies...sort of anyway. Frantically, Niko quickly extinguished his flaming aura and pushed his heel hard against the ground, stopping himself before he could barrel into the two. "Better move quickly if you wanna not die," he called over his shoulder, turning away. "Carrying someone else is only begging for them to rearrange your face!" As if on cue, two of the monsters lunged at the man, but he managed to defeat them...with a shovel?! Either way, he was able to get the unconscious girl to a lady in far-too-elegant robes...guess that matter was solved, then.

Well, with the man in the cloak just standing there, and the woman was...working some kind of healing magic, it seemed, Niko figured they probably would need defending...what an annoyance. "I'll be taking care of these guys for you!" he shouted to the group, turning on his heel towards the nightmarish monsters. Flames gathered to cover the entire length of his left forearm, which was raising as though he'd make a punch with it. "Don't start complaining if things get a bit more heated here!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Irina Neventelde Character Portrait: Niko Neventelde
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#, as written by Rann
Well, that was a conundrum. The monster things that were screwing shit up were really... troublesome. For instance, she didn't know their names at all. And that really was fucking annoying - what could she really do, in terms of curses? Sure, the others were her allies, but - well, it was such a hassle. And it probably wouldn't merit as much fun as tormenting Aeris into nigh insanity had. She focused at a point where she assumed her brother was as he replied to her words in typical fashion.

"Well, congratulations on your win. I'm sure they'll figure out very quickly whose side they want you on with those curses," While the words were nice - the tone was most evidently not. Irina stifled a mocking yawn, really not in the mood for his veiled insults. "As for how things were going on my end, I defeated two people in the labyrinth. And I didn't exactly have as much fun as you did... It's not very enjoyable when you consider what happens if we lose."

That in itself was... actually a good point. Possibly the one thing the siblings had in common was their mutual hatred of their home - the wasteland named Avalon. The roving bandits, everywhere. Incessant heat. Miran.... all in all, there was nothing good to be said about the damn place. Irina gave an involuntary shiver when she remembered what had happened - and the event that proved that she didn't need anyone else. That she couldn't trust anyone else. It haunted at her nonstop, and yet there was nothing to really be done about it. While she could never see - for some reason, nightmares of the event were in full clarity. How idiotically spiteful. And yet she still shamelessly uses the curses she learned from Miran... but they're a powerful weapon. Why not take advantage of it? Still. The only thing she could agree with Niko on was that there's no way that they'd ever return to Avalon. Death was preferable, and death would be the solution if they had no other choice.

"And speaking of your curses, why don't you save it for these guys who ruined this event?" Hadn't this already been covered earlier? She needed the actual names in order to - fuck it, Niko didn't need to know how curses worked. All that mattered was that she knew how they worked. Her scowl deepened, though, and from the inflection in his voice she could sense some more cruel sarcasm about to be hurled her way."Ah well, if you're not up to it, you can just hide in a corner; let The Nameless, anyone who decided to stay, and me handle these mooks."

All rationality exited Irina's mind as she immediately stood up, fuming. This was fucking ridiculous. What, did Niko think she couldn't fight? That she was some weak vulnerable female that had to be protected? Hadn't she proven to him that she was probably a more proficient fighter than he was, even without sight? That was it, this was fucking it. She'd fight, whatever. Might as well, too. Idiot brother. Stupid brother.

"Fuck off." Irina spat angrily. "I'll kill more than you can even count!"

Her brother then sped off, wreaking destruction in the form of flames. Irina used her clicker to quickly get an image of the area, and swung her whip at one of the flagpoles - wrapping around it and pulled, allowing her to be used almost as a slingshot towards the strange monsters. The speed was exhilarating - it was a shame she couldn't attain speed simply by running or jumping, but alas - and it brought her into the fray, and she sent another click with her remote system, before sending a rapid flurry of cracks and slashes of her dagger-on-whip, a medium-range force of violence. Irina's face bore an almost crazed expression as she fought - as it almost always did.

"I'll be taking care of these guys for you!" Her brother cried, and Irina sported a wry smile. Oh, Niko, ever the hero. Idiot.

Fighting too near others gave Irina a strange, uncomfortable feeling. She vastly preferred to be alone in a battle. And thus, she summoned a shadow tendril to attach to one of the monsters in order for her to swing herself at it, before driving the blade through it's skull with a veritable slice. Irina raised her arms to roughly head height, before letting out a bit of a cry, and using enough force to have her body buckle over in half, almost as if in pain, and a shockwave of dark energy pulsated around her, shredding some monsters, and pushing away the rest, in a wide radius around her, allowing her to set up her passive darkness field to alert her of magical attacks heading her way.

Okay, this was actually pretty fun.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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As Ivan saw the monkey land on the dissease ridden rat and attack it with acid and blunt he grinned slightly. His odds had turned from awkwardly trying to keep the pest at bay to actually having a having a good chance of destroying it right then and there. He was mildly surprised when the pest formed gasses to divert the flames and simply rubbed the acid from it's face. He had expected the flames to have yielded only some superficial damage, but to see that even the acid hadn't affected the pestulant rat was a bit worrying. Not to mention that it was now gleefully mocking both him and the monkey and had raised an army from the insects that lived in and on it's fur.

"If fire fails, try drowning it's swarms with water. If that fails, the water will still serve me well." He heard from behind the mans mask. Truthfully it would have been a good idea to simply drown the bugs with a wave of water, however there really wasn't a way for him to create a significantly sized body of water quick enough. Though it seemed the man had a plan so he created a cloud of T-energy crystals and made it rain above them by cooling the moisture in the air and turning the crystals themselves into water. It was strong enough of a rain to make the bugs lose footing and be swept away by the falling dropletts, but unfortunatly as he expected not strong enough to drown the bugs. Hopefully it would be enough to make that rat slip on the slick mud as it was oh so gleefully jumping around. In the end he just hoped it would be enough for whatever the man was planning.

Ivan quckly formed a storm of crystal dust around him as he saw a group of the insects rush at him, freezing and shredding the insects that dared venture into it, before absorbing the insects and turning it into more crystal dust. The barrier would be ample defence against any sort of attack by that pests insect minnions. He then felt blessings from the mage from before reach him once more, he could feel the energy as it increased his resiliance and gave him another layer of shielding. Since he was more or less on the frontline against an enemy that could have more tricks up it's sleeve he figured it was safer to keep these blessings for the moment, instead of using them as more ammo.

Ivan stepped forwards drawing another group of bugs into the storm and shredding them for their energy. The energy within the bugs was boutifull, it wasn't hard to see at this point why it was so tempting to destroy and absorb humanoid being only to be turned into a lich as a result. Now he had enough energy stored to make another attacking move while keeping some energy to spare. A small stream of the dust moved out of the storm and forming another around the rat, cooling the air as they moved. As the storm raged around the rat, and the storm had grown so thick that the rat wasn't even visable anymore, quite quickly tiny white crystal began to form on the crystals and their surroundings, to anyone unassuming it would look like ice. It was ice, that was sure, but it was dry ice solidified carbondioxide. Ivan grinned in the knowledge that if the rat didn't escape it's heat draining prison soon the carbondioxide within the lungs as he tries to exhale will turn solid and the water in his blood and body cells will freeze all with very deadly results. "Stand back from that storm, otherwise it might freeze you too and a very cold rat might jump out at any moment." He said to the monkey as the storm raged.

From the corner of his eye he could see an object brimming with lightning fly at rediculous speeds. The energy from that bolt would serve him really well. Intercepting the object to gain it's power would be nearly impossible though, there was one option, use the plasma field of a decaying lightning bolt to draw in the lightning. He aimed at a husk further along the path of the spear, both of them hitting the target almost instantly after another, but it was enough he had drawn in the lightning energy and even drawn the spear off it's path by a degree or two. The lightning hit Ivan with full force, but asside from a little tingle in the fingertips and the storm of crystal around him growning denser he wasn't affected.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Irina Neventelde Character Portrait: Niko Neventelde
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A spear suddenly impaled itself in the midst of the raging inferno, causing Niko to jump back instinctively. What the hell? Who had thrown that? Even with their power, those monsters shouldn't have had the fine motor skills or coordination to throw that spear...not so accurately, either; it had speared itself well into the ground a foot away from him. Who was responsible?!

But when his eyes traced the direction from which the spear had flown, he could not see who or what had sent it at him. Looks like he got away quickly...looking back at the girl who was being healed, Niko figured there was enough time for him to dash away for a bit. Doing so in the direction of the horrors, he recreated his flame aura and began to burn and slash through them again. Augmented with heat, the heavy sword was working well enough against them...he probably didn't need to change his tactics, right?

Noticing two people flying in the air...one of them had wings, somehow...and seeing that they were doing nothing but flirting, Niko groaned. Couldn't they see where they were? "Oi! Flirterers! Leave your mushiness for later, get down here and be of some use! People are getting murdered down here!" he angrily shouted, leaping up and slashing some enemy that had jumped at them.

The flaming blade sank into the enemy...but didn't pierce its skin entirely. Annoyed, Niko kicked backwards, sending flames out from underneath his feet (thankfully, aimed away from the pair of flirterers), sending himself spiraling forward and forcing his blade further through the face of the monster and killing it. Satisfied, he halted the stream of fire from his feet and rolled, landing somewhat safely, though he felt a rather unpleasant pain in his spne from the force.

Blazing through the monsters yet again, he suddenly noticed Irina up ahead, taking out the nightmares with her darkness magic. Just as Niko was about to send (anything but) a compliment her way, he suddenly noticed that standing right behind her was a giant hulk clad in black armor, whose fists were shining with a strange energy. Wait...what the hell is that?! And it was preparing to attack...Irina. "Behind you, idiot!" Niko shouted, leaping just past Irina and raising his sword, the flames continuing to dance about him. Hadn't she noticed him by now, with that nearly omniscient echolocation ability?!

Whatever the reason...ugh, goddammit, she'll make my life so much worse for this.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis
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#, as written by Zalgo
"A-Ah! Look out Mister! There is one behind you!"

Myon had alerted him to the presence of another shadow attempting to assault them. Before he could dispatch the entity however the spirit made short work of the being using divine magic to purify it.

"Mister, please let me help you. I know Mistress is safe now. I may not be good at physical combat as she is but I can assist you with my magic. Also... thank you...for risking your own life to save us... I will not be able to repay the debt in full but the least I can do is provide some backup. I have basic control over water and wind but my main affinity and expertise is light. Though I am unable to provide copies to assist, my magic should be more than enough. So please, let me help you!"

Were he more foolhardy he might of refused the spirits offer of help, saying something along the lines of There's no need to repay me, just look after yourself. He was no fool. In war a person who does not fight alongside his fellow man and tries to be a hero will be cut down, if not by the enemy then by his own team members. The punishment for disobedience was to be beaten to death with wooden swords wielded by the offender's comrades. It was symbolic, designed to signify that when somebody disobeys an order, whether because they were trying to be heroic or any other reason, they were putting the lives of everyone at risk. In this case he was no longer in the military but the meaning behind the ways they fought still stuck with him. He would fight alongside any ally, to do otherwise would put both his unlife and the lives of every other ally at grave risk.

Before he could respond to the spirits earnest request there were numerous crashes in the Nameless's ranks. He turned to see several people get taken down. one of them was sent flying shortly followed by her spear. After that incident the remaining forces were left in confusion while searching for the attacker. As he was turning his head to address Myon he caught a glimpse of what was likely the source of all the damage, a large metal construct with shaped heat based claws bearing down upon some girl and a fire wielder.


He looked over to the spirit, his dark tone befitting the situation they were all in. "That depends on you. I will be dealing with the plagued rat creature. If you do not feel you have the stomach to face it I am sure the others would appreciate any assistance with the metal construct attacking them they could get." He turned away from the spirit and started striding towards the darkened region of the field where the rain muddied the earth below. "The choice is yours."

Regardless of whether or not Myon followed him he made his way over until he was in the thick of the battle with the unholy creation that dared to live in his presence. The magus had made the battlefield soggy enough for his plan to deal with the corrupt rodent. In addition the magus was trying to freeze the rodent in an ice storm. If he was successful then that would make things all the simpler. He did not think that this particular fight was going to end that easy.

Now in place, he raised his shovel up and drove it into the mud. Scooping out the mud he started digging down into the ground. The hole grew larger and deeper rather quickly as he was stupendously good at digging graves by now. About twelve feet down he stopped digging, satisfied with the depth for now. He knew if the rain held then the hole would fill up with water. This was good.

His plan was to go straight up to the foul being, grab it and bury it alive. Were the ground as dry as it was in the beginning of this war he would suspect the rat of being capable of digging it's way back up. Now that the ground was practically a marsh the beast couldn't dig a foot into the ground without the hole made by it's claws filling back up with mud. He was going to send this beast to it's watery grave, burying it alive in mud.


In preparation for his conflict with the diseased pest he reached into the pile of mud he had created when digging it's grave. He took handfuls of mud and lathered it onto his suit underneath his cloak. His whole attire was designed specifically to keep any and all sources of infection out. It was sealed up completely so there were no openings for infectious material to seep in. Between that and the plated chain mail he wore underneath for protection the insects would find great difficulty in penetrating through and reaching Pravus's undead flesh normally.

He remembered his lessons taught to him from his father during his childhood. He remembered a detail that he felt would help in this particular situation. Many animals in nature would often roll in mud in order to both mask their scent and keep insects off of them. The sticky liquid earth made the animals skin much too sticky and thick for insects to find purchase on them. The same could apply to him as well.

He finished applying the mud to his outfit. He strode up towards the rat, ignoring the carpets of insects surrounding it. Between his rain slick cloak and hat as well as his earthen defenses beneath there was no surface for the bugs to climb upon him. He stopped just short of the ice storm and simply waited for the magus to be done with his spell.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Keres Leventis
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#, as written by Ritnio
"You are quite strange. You dig a hole in the middle of a war. Cover yourself with mud and THEN go to fight t-that horrid beast? I don't fully understand you Mister but then again...I don't understand my own existence.

Myon had followed the warrior only to end up floating over his hole. She didn't know why he dug the hole or how he dug it so fast. She didn't want to know either. Instead she stood...well... floated as close to the ground as she could manage... next to him and raised one arm over her shoulder and held it there, ready to swing it downward. That hand held the longer blade. The other arm was slightly bent and facing outward. The back of her hand was facing up and the blade went from her left to her right as it was on its side.

It was an unseen and strange stance. Nobody but the user would be able to tell how, where, and when they will attack. The stance is unreadable and therefore safe from being countered or blocked. After positioning her swords, she bent her left leg so that she was slightly twisted to the left side. Her hair covered her eyes which meant nothing as she had closed them after taking up the stance.

She was now ready to....do whatever it is she is ready to do.

The setting changes from phyrexian-grassland to The Garden

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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#, as written by Ankti
If she’d had time to reflect, Tiotio might have considered that heading out in search of a group of people famous for their magic war fought against a demon lord might have been better done after, learning a thing or two about higher magics.

As it stood her simple gusts of wind served her just as well as her bo, which was to say, quite inadequately. While she could easily hold back the rotting soldiers, she could form no plan to dispatch what seemed to be the real threat, the enemy generals now working into the midst of the Nameless.

She did the only thing that seemed useful, slammed, punched, knocked, kicked, and jabbed at each and every rotting soldier that came near the magic man so he could keep up his assault on the diseased rat.

When the masked man returned she had thought another warrior would be at her side, or at the magic man’s, but instead of facing an enemy, the man put his shovel to the ground. He used the blade to carve out earth even more impressively than he’d carved a bloody swath through the enemy ranks.

Unlike the boy now flying in the sky, who it had seemed at first would be a strong ally on the battlefield, the masked man acted with determined purpose. Tiotio did all she could to ensure the man was not disturbed in his work, understanding quickly that he was setting a trap for the plagued beast.

The setting changes from the-garden to Phyrexian Grassland

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender
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The ogre the priestess was standing upon, stepped back in surprise as the muddied gravedigger emerged from the melee, tapping Seriene's hoof to draw her attention down, shouting over the sounds of battle questioningly in her alien tongue, blinking at the sight of the wounded warrior girl, patting the side of the ogre's head and motioning for it to put her down on the ground, the large creature complying with a quiet grunt, placing her down on the ground as gently as it could.
The slender priestess ran her luminescent eyes over the girl, clutching her staff tightly in one hand while hovering her hand over the various wounds and breaks in her small body, shifting her ear close to the girl's mouth to check for breathing and tapping her fingers against her neck for a pulse, chewing the corner of her lip in quiet concern.
The Draenei spoke to the mud streaked man before shaking her head and hitting the side of her head with a palm, remembering that no one could understand her, simply sighing and grasping her staff in front of her, the hooded figure of the staff's head facing towards the girl as Seriene took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, channeling a spell, muttering a prayer in an alien tongue, bluish white light wreathing her body as her shoulder plates flared up in light, blue ethereal feathers arching out of the metal protrusions and an ethereal halo forming about her head as she opened her eyes and exhaled, a small pillar and swirl of light engulfing the girl's body, as life and energy was thrust into her form, sealing her more severe wounds and fading much of her bruising.
The priestess exhaled then shouted in surprise as the gravedigger bolted off, looking rather displeased as she caught the still limp body, huffing and looking up at her unlikely companion pleadingly, the ogre shrugging and picking up the girl, carefully cradling her while Seriene casted a lesser heal to further stabilize the girl and hopefully put more energy into her.

However Seriene flinched as her keen ears picked up a sickening crunch from somewhere behind her, turning then looking up to see the animal eared woman rag doll through the air above her and her ogreish friend, her limp body thudding and rolling brokenly along the ground.
The priestess flinched and cringed at what must have been an agonizing fall, if the lady were conscious that is. She looked behind herself to see where the woman had been launched from to no particular avail.
Grunting in frustration and concern for the strange female's well being she patted her ogre companion's hand to get his attention before pointing towards the downed woman, the creature nodding in understanding and giving the girl in his arms a gentle rock, conveying he'd keep her safe while she was unconscious, Seriene giving him an awkward smile and thanking him, even though the tall muscly being had no idea what she was saying.
The agent of the Light ducked and weaved between the Nameless' forces, making a beeline for the fallen woman, emerging from the crowd with a gasp, sprinting towards the pile of rubble and the woman's broken form, her robes flapping about her legs. She cursed as she almost tripped as she neared the body, cursing and figuring that her battle-priest raiments were a little less practical than first thought and could probably use some modifications.
Seriene pushed aside her idle thoughts as she came up to the body of the woman, digging her hooves into the ground and groaning at the strain as she pushed aside the larger bits of rubble resting on the lady, sweat beading out from under her hair at the physical exertion, as small an exertion as it really was.
She huffed as she uncovered the woman, thanking the stars above that the larger shards of ice had mostly missed her or had been shattered into more manageable pieces though the strain had stolen her breath from her and she gasped to catch it once more.

Seriene grimaced at the state the black clad woman was in, wincing at the way her arms and body was bent, she kneeled beside her and placed two fingers at her neck, feeling nothing and cursing, she leaned closer, moving her ear near her mouth, unable to tell if she was breathing or if it was just the wind brushing past her. The priestess gave a rather heinous curse in her native tongue before doing her best to carefully lay the woman on her back, wincing and cringing almost in pain herself from the sound of broken bones within her body.
The draenei placed her ear to the broken woman's chest, ignoring the decidedly lewd nature of her actions for the greater good, closing her eyes and listening for a heart-beat, gasping and biting her lip at the faintest of thumps, silently thanking the Naaru for their kindness.
Seriene steeled herself as she was not looking forward in the slightest to what she was about to do. Silently asking the unconscious woman on deaths door for forgiveness she carefully but firmly bent her body and arms back into shape, realigning her pelvis and arms with the rest of her body, throwing up a little in her mouth at the sound of popping and grinding bone.
Once the woman was laying flat on her back, her bruised and shattered body looking mostly normal she began her spells of healing, tapping into the relatively new payer of Renew, hoping that by the Light's grace she could save this lady from Death's embrace, her eyes glowing brightly as her clenched hands light up with golden light, her breath quickening as she opened her hands and turned her palms over the dying woman, the holy light and energies engulfing her bodies as her bones reset themselves and her flesh knit itself together at an inhuman pace.
Seriene gasped and was forced to hold herself up on her hands as her strength was drained from her body, a considerable reserve of her strength taken away for the sake of this woman she didn't even know...
"At least I'm being useful..." was all she could think to herself as she staggered to her hooves, looking about carefully, partly hiding behind the shattered stone and ice and waiting for the woman to come to her senses while Renew ran its course through her body, hoping nothing came to kill her or undo her work.