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Seriene Arvor

A devout novice battle priest of the Naaru and a once firm defender of Karabor.

0 · 521 views · located in Phyrexian Grassland

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


[Personal Details]
Name: Seriene Arvor
Age: Fifty years of age, the equivalent of a young adult.
Place of Birth: Karabor, Shadowmoon Valley, Draenor.

Personality: Seriene is a kind, curious and gentle soul at heart, wiling and happy to help those in need. However she has been traumatized by the recent devastation of her people and the attack of the Orcs and demons that drove them. She still has a desire to do good but is rather jumpy and slightly mistrustful at times. Naturally she has a considerable fear and hatred of orcs now and because of her upbringing as well as the attack of the "Horde" that had been driven by demons she has a very deep distrust and even a hatred of demons and devils, being very very slow to trust either Orcs or Demons.
With the races she has not met, just about any and all who are not Draenei, Demon or Orc she is generally wary but curious about them, shy to approach but filled to the brim with questions should they befriend her.

Appearance: Seriene is a 2.1 meter tall Draenei with a slim healthy build, however lacking any real muscle mass. Her eyes are a soft bluish white and glow faintly, her skin's are a darker but still light blue, her lips a navy blue and behind them sharp fangs. She has an hourglass figure as is typical of Draenei females and a pair of backwards arching horns rest atop her head along with shoulder length black hair, small 'tendrils clinging to the point where her jaw and neck meet, the longest coming down to rest against the top of her chest, gold rings adorning the small appendages. Hanging from the base of her tail a short tail adorned with the same style of rings as her facial tendrils wrapped about her tail. Her legs are something akin to that of a hoofed animal, giving her a satyr or faunish look, her legs being somewhat crooked like a goats though free of fur and ending in bluish black cloven hooves.
Upon her forehead is a simplified tattoo of the form of a Naaru.

Seriene's battle robes are made of a mixture of cloth, leather and metal, the arms covered in nothing but cloth with a few tanned leather straps around the upper arms, light iron and bronze with three 'spires' jutting out of each rest on her shoulders, black feathers poking out from under them.
Her chest and upper back are covered by a mix of cloth and leather, providing minor protection and a and a plain brown hood with horn holes usually adorns her head.
The midsection of the robe is adorned with a corset and small skirt of metal plates, covering her midsection and upper legs, attached to the armor over her stomach a form of amulet of metal is attached.
When Seriene is engaged in battle or channeling powerful spells, she resonates her power with the armor, activating certain enchantments and creating a visual effect of an ethereal throned halo over her head and three "feathers" almost like rudimentary wings to appear attached to the spires of her shoulder plates.

Spoken Languages: Draenei and fragmented Orcish.

[Combat Section]
Note: Seriene is very physically weak and totally dependent on her magic and any allies she has to fight and defend her. She's very much in a support position whenever events come to blows as she's not any good at taking hits, her constitution not being the best a single powerful blow to the head would be more than enough to knock her out and she's very susceptible to disease and poisons when her magics fail her.
Whenever she's severely wounded in a way that causes her to be thoroughly bed ridden she's incapable of healing herself or anyone else making her a rather fragile asset to say the least.

Weapons: A staff more used for channelling holy energies than actual combat, along with her armor giving her greater focus and power behind her spells. She also has in her possession a book of holy power that she studies to draw new spells and powers from.

"Draenei descent": Seriene has a racial resistance to dark magics, if only a slight one.
"Eyes of Pain": A very basic form of divination which allows Seriene to get a good estimate of the ways that those she is observing are wounded, aiding her in her healing.
"Divine Focus": Whilst casting a channeled spell Seriene is slowed in her spell casting less than one would expect when attacked.
"Divine Fury": Seriene's offensive projectile spells have a slight "tracking" to them, meaning they'll arc in the direction of the target even if they move. Though its only a slight arc so its not that much of a big deal. Just means you can't cheekily sidestep like a sod.

Base Spells: (Spells can be cast with a simple gesture and/or sound.)
"Smite": Launches a holy bolt of energy to harm her opponents.
"Inner Fire": Fills a target with holy energy hardening their body and mind whilst improving their strength.
"Psychic Scream": Seriene lets forth a terrible wail, disorienting or forcing those who fail to resist it to flee in fear. It being a psychic attack, covering ones ears tends not to work though Seriene does need to be able to make herself audible to cast the spell.
"Holy Fire": Wreathes and enemy in holy fire. Particularly effective against those of the demonic or undead disposition.
"Purity": Dispels harmful effects from the target, destroying curses and diseases if possible.
"Fade": Allows Seriene to seemingly fade from existence for a few seconds usually allowing her to put some distance between attackers or allow others to draw their attention away.
"Dispel Magic": Dispels some magical effects from an area at random.
"Void Tendrils": Seriene can call upon shadowy tendrils to trap and hold up to five enemies. The tendrils can be destroyed and have the same textile strength as muscle and skin.

Words of Power: (Must have a spoken word to be cast, damaging or restricting her throat or mouth will stop her from casting these.)
"Shadow Word: Pain": Inflicts susceptible targets with a searing pain either cold or hot upon their bodies.
"Power Word: Shield": Encases a target in a protective shield of holy energies, absorbing a certain amount of punishment before dissipating. So long as Seriene is wearing most of her armor shields she casts also reflect damage back at the attacker.
"Body and Soul": Anyone whom Seriene casts a "Power Word: Shield" on is imbued with considerable energy quickening their movement and reflex speeds. (This is a passive effect added to Power Word: Shield)
"Power Word: Fortitude": Infuses herself and those around her with holy vitality, increasing their fortitude.
"Holy Word: Chastise": Similar to Smite but has the side effect of usually knocking the target senseless. Seriene must wait a time before being able to cast this power again.

Healing Spells: (These spells have the same rules as the Base Spells but are all designed to heal and protect allies.)
"Flash Heal": A quick but inefficient healing spell that can be used in the heat of battle, repeated use of the spell can be dangerous for both the caster and the recipient.
"Resurrection": Whilst not being powerful enough to truly bring the dead back to life Seriene can bring people back from the brink of death, enough to mend their wounds enough for them to stand and talk.
"Renew": Imbues the target with extremely rapid regenerative abilities for a short time, casting this spell, whilst quick, is very taxing on Seriene.
"Heal": A powerful instant heal that can seal gashes and mend bones in the blink of an eye, casting this spell, whilst quick, is very taxing on Seriene.

Passive Protection: (If Seriene is having these used she's in a very bad state. Neither of these spells can be used offensively, E.I. No the Angel can't cast offensive spells, only heal others and maybe stabilize Seriene if she's ot of harms way.)
"Focus Will": Should Seriene be dealt a powerful blow she will be wreathed in a cushioning field of energy, decreasing the amount of damage her body takes from attacks.
"Spirit of Redemption": Should Seriene become severely wounded, incapacitated or even die, an ethereal blue angelic spirit will appear above her and channel her spells for her whilst protecting her from all forms of harm for a short duration before disappearing, at which point Seriene will either fall unconscious, go into a small coma or die depending on the circumstance that the Spirit is summoned.

Technology: With the right tools and materials Seriene is able to create magic powered "Pseudo-Technology" though really she can only make entertaining trinkets at best. Her understanding of electronics and mechanical technology is limited at best.
Skills: Seriene is a holy priest of the Naaru first and foremost empowering her with holy magics and healing powers though she does have a few offensive "Shadow Words" as she calls them as well as a keen eye for jewel-crafting and basic magic based engineering as well as some basic gem based enchantments.
Proficiency: Healing and holy magics.

Parentage: Seriene never knew her parents but was raised by the priests of Karabor and to some extent one of the Naaru she worships who imparted many kind words of wisdom to her.

History prior to The Garden: Seriene was orphaned at a very young age, what exactly happened to her parents was a mystery and never truly unveiled, however the Priesthood of the Holy Light took her in without a thought when approached by the council about her, orphaned Draenei being a rarity in the days of Draenor, Seriene was a subject of considerable gossip in her younger years though the Priesthood and later on the Naaru, X'iri, sheltered her from the sometimes unkind gossip of the holy city. In time the you Draenei grew into a fine Holy Priest, becoming an idol to those younger than herself even at the age of twenty five. She spent her time in peaceful meditation, even concealing with the Prophet Velen at one point, tinkering with simple contraptions and becoming familiar with the art of jewelcrafting and gem enchants.
Of course this peaceful existence eventually came crashing down, not just for Seriene but for all Draenei.
The Orcs native to Draenor, without warning or provocation suddenly united under a singular Horde, fueled by an unmatchable bloodlust attacked the Draenei settlements in the Shadowmoon Valley, destroying village and town again and again, catching the entire peoples off guard.
Donning the robes of the battle priest with a mixed sense of honor, duty and fear Seriene joined her brethren, paladins and priests of the holy light in battle, fighting tooth and nail to hold back the horde but to no avail, eventually forcing the Draenei to flee upon the same devices that had brought them to Draenor, the interdimensional vessels of the Naaru. With some of the Naaru in tow the Draenei fled to the Exodar, the only one of the hidden ships they could reach, boarding the vessel and fleeing.
However to allow the majority of their people to escape many Draenei had to stay behind, fighting against a seemingly endless sea of green skinned monsters that they once new as Orcs, many of the brave Draenei souls being butchered brutally by the bloodthirsty horde.
Although many died upon the field of battle Seriene somehow survived, battered and bloodied yet not quite dead, picking herself up and staggering away from the blood-soaked fields of the Shadowmoon Valley, she staggered deliriously across the landscape, tripping and stumbling again and again but still trudging forward on almost broken hooves she came across a pillar of light, the ray of strange energy reminding her in her delirious state of the light of the Naaru. Mindlessly she trudged forward, hoping to be rescued from this hell she once called home, the fires of Karabor still burning in the distance she stumbled into the pillar and vanished.

So begins...

Seriene Arvor's Story

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Seriene screamed as her body was torn to shreds, the pillar of light showing its true nature as her body was disintegrated and her soul flung across the endless expanse of time and space, her disembodied mind crashing into the alien grasslands in a second pillar of light that only lasted a second, her body rematerializing within the wild energy of the beam before it dissipated.
She was left in the wake, a circle of smoking grass around her as she fell to her knees, gasping and shuddering in agony the world spinning about her in a blur as she spun and collapsed, spasming on the ground and heaving for breath and clutching disorientedly at the ground as her body and clothes smoked lightly, her eyes open and wild the glowing white pupils flicking back and forth in their sockets as she tried to gain a bearing on her surroundings.
She lay on the cooling grass for a period of time that was indiscernible to her as her breathing slowed and the world stopped spinning. The Draenei swallowed thickly and rubbed her chest as she slowly rolled over on to her hands and knees, feeling about for a moment before clutching her staff in one hand upon finding it and shakily standing to her feet, looking about with blurred vision at the towering mountain and unfamiliar, alien faces, she stepped back, holding her staff awkwardly in front of her defensively, her knees weak and shaking and she turned her head back and forth, stammering in her native tongue, demanding to know where she was and who these aliens were, her eyes wild in confusion and fear.

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Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Wayland "Brimstone" Smith
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#, as written by duramon
The Black Rabbit stood with her arms crossed, her shining hair blowing gloriously in a mystical source of wind that seemed to affect nothing else in the area. She had to fight back a smirk as the crowds appeared, one man appeared before the others and attempted to hide his..unique state, behind a simple cigarette. In a world such as this he would find such things not nearly as useful but his attempt at least served to amuse the cold hearted rabbit. Slowly through golden portals and sudden appearances the crowd fully materialized, stragglers still arriving now and again behind the rest, all eyes on her and several embarrassed stares centred at her chest and thighs. She didn't care however, the Rabbit had learnt long ago that no matter what end of existence you hailed from men were all the same.

The woman tapped her foot impatiently on the stage as she awaited the stragglers to bundle together with the rest in front of the vast ruins, a crying girl appearing and quickly being comforted by a stranger with spiky red hair. She scoffed inwardly and kept her looks of disdain to herself, instead leveling a neutral gaze on them and the rest of the crowd, weaklings didn't last long anyway and they'd be sent home with the rest of the unfortunate random rabble.

Finally however she was given the cue as in a burst of blue light a group of around fifty people, mostly children and teenagers aside from one large grey haired man appeared in the rows of seats and the booth nearby. Those in the booth obviously higher ranking or more important members, made increasingly obvious by their age difference to the small crowd of young who sat fidgeting already in their spectating seats. The most noticeable was the tall grey haired and bearded man who sat in the center of the group upon a large wooden chair. A kind smile upon his features as he good naturedly chatted with the others around him before falling silent, brushing his white coat off of the sides of the large chair and directing his attention along with everyone else's to the Black Rabbit who glared at him impatiently.

"Welcome! One and all! To the recruitment game of The Nameless. I realize many of you are disorientated and confused, but you all have one thing in common. You wished for something new, a second change, a fresh start. I the Black Rabbit granted that wish, but it doesn't come entirely free." She announced with a fake and overly cheerful smile, bouncing around the place excitedly "You have been chosen from all across existence to compete here in The Garden in a recruitment game to join the infamous nameless guild. You will compete and fight and complete any of three victory conditions to earn your place amongst their number." She stated, before darkly smiling and turning to the group who gathered before her.

"Those who lose will be sent back to whatever reality they came from and wiped of all memory of this place, Those who win get to join the community here who are staging the recruitment game. Without a community even if you find your back here or a way to stay, you won't survive long! To live here you have to have great skills, a guild or have enough cash to live it up with city life!" She announced excitedly, real excitement. She always loved the bad news part of the announcements. "Now most of you are mundane, normal people, but some of you have gifts, or intelligence. You are to use these gifts in any way you deem necessary to complete the conditions, don't worry about death because for this game you have the wonderful Black Rabbit as a judge! All deaths will be temporary and simply result in an pleasant trip back to your own reality!" She stated twirling on the spot before tapping her foot twice on the ground, a rain of golden scrolls falling gently from the sky and wafting into the hands of every competitor.

"The rules are simple and written on those sheets as with the victory condition, however even if you complete the conditions its up to the guild master whether or not you make it in! It's not all about brute force or power here, you have to prove you'll be worthwhile having around!" She cheered, gesturing to the grey haired man at the mention of a guild master, in reply he simply waved kindly before being hidden by the bouncing rabbit. "You have only a short period of time before all remaining contestants are wiped out, so on my signal go!" She stated finally, stepping back and taking a seat on the ground, a small party popper materializing in her hand as a shiny golden throne broke from below to accommodate her. The rabbit humming happily to herself as she gave them all time to read. Behind the group lay the entrance to the maze, which despite its regular appearance and black stone rubble walls was entirely different once entered, to enter was to be transported to a far off place where the game would truly take place. The spire still an obvious peak,however reaching it was a different matter. In this true maze the walls were made of the same black-stone and the surroundings more resembled a dungeon, to be entirely accurate a gargantuan dungeon that spanned across several islands both large and small. Various trials,monsters and traps awaiting those who entered within.

The Golden items however were going to be the fun part for the spectators, each was located in a separate circular room past all the traps and monsters they could have possibly crammed into the points leading to them. To claim each item one would have to face a trial or defeat a monster or opponent, a seemingly straight forward task, if one was fortunate enough to find a single room that they alone gained access to and without competition for the item. To make matters worse not all circular rooms yield an item...however all do yield a challenge and an opportunity to remove some competition. Outside the circular rooms one is only subject to the competition and the mind-numbing and yet simple maze, along with various traps and creatures of strange descriptions, all in all..the game was going to allow only the strong and the intelligent to make it through.

However one first had to read the scroll to begin to at grasp what they had to do.


The scrolls read as follows.
1:You may use any means you require necessary to meet the conditions however exiting the maze or breaking its walls in considered cheating, you must find a way to make it through with what you have.
2:This is a solo event so working together to achieve a singular condition will only reward a single person.
3:Attempts to harm spectators or official judges will result in temporal banishment and removal from planar existence.

Victory Conditions:
To win this game one must at least one of these conditions.
1: Complete the maze and climb the spire within three minutes, after obtaining at least three golden items hidden through-out the maze.
2: Defeat five other participants and climb the spire, defeating the unique guardian who challenges you at its peak after unlocking your unique arcane door at its base with a golden key.
The final condition yields an additional reward along with the basic rewards for winning the game
3:Open all three Arcane Doors, located at: The Spire, The North Corner, and The Hidden Rune upon the maze wall. Using various Golden Items, no clues are given to which aside from The Spire.

One is able to join The Nameless Guild
Given a Lazul Card (Stores Gifts and Categorizes ones natural gifts and powers)
Gifted the Voice of Aniya (A magical gift allowing one to communicate with those in The Garden.)
Given Lodging and a small sum of two hundred coin for basic supplies and living.
Additional Rewards:
Given a Personalized Estate building and increased gold sum of four hundred coin.
Given choice of workshop for personal and shared use amongst guild.

Ignoring dismayed cries of unfairness,petty complaints and confusion. Black Rabbit raised her party popper and grinned as she pulled the string to fire it, a penetrating beam of light flashing high into the sky and after several minutes of rumbling, bringing lightning to crash down directly in front of the judge and announcer. A Golden and Ornate Spear weapon, or perhaps it was a halberd appearing and being picked up in her twirling hands before she halted it in front of her with a perfect innocent smile. The microphone placed in between two parallel blades either side of the shaft making itself known as her voice echoed out even louder then the remaining ringing of lightning and thunder.

"Let the games, Begin!, any late-comers will be ported directly into the game and given a scroll,now get going!"

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Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor
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Seriene simply stared blankly at the instructions upon the paper, loosely holding it in her hands as she attempted to absorb all that was happening, far too quickly at that for her liking, especially after the recent harrowing experiences she had just emerged from.
Deciding to set her thoughts aside for now she steeled her mind as best she could, clasping her hands together and opening her mind, letting the Light fill her with what calm and serenity she could muster.
There were many questions and much outrage boiling in her but she knew she had to lay them to rest until after this trial. She knew that she was far, far away from Draenor but she also knew that if she were to be sent back it would be only a matter of time before the Horde found her and then, no doubt, make a short but agonizing sport out of killing her.
At least in this strange alien realm with these strange alien creatures she had a fighting chance.

Seriene tightened her grip on her staff, opening her eyes and growling softly, baring her fangs and rolling her shoulders, her shoulder-plates lighting up as thee faint blue feathers arched out of each of them, ethereal and wavering in an invisible wing, a spiked ethereal halo glowing faintly over her head as she followed the other contestants, determination glowing in her luminescent eyes as she charged forward, her hooves clacking gently against the stone of the ground as she ran through the gates, her mind almost frighteningly calm with the rays of the Light flowing through her thoughts.

The Draenei knew that she was no true combatant and against most of the foes littered about the maze and even the other contestants she would have no chance against them. Her best bet was to find the three items and ascend the spire, avoiding all combat while possible. As much as a smite to the face stung she was positive it wasn't enough to fell a truly seasoned warrior, of which there seemed to be plenty in the mix. In fact she'd already seen several individuals hacking away at one another, several more being left, severely wounded or dead in the hallways and various rooms of the twisting labyrinth. It made her heart ache seeing such wasted life, but she had to remind herself that their deaths... Were in fact temporary, and helping them would no doubt simply lead to her own untimely demise.

Seriene cursed her lack of stealth or combat ability as she narrowly missed being spotted by what appeared to be a very unhappy furred hoofed, demon beast. She wanted to think "mancow" though she had no idea what in the Lights name a "mancow" was. Though she thought she heard someone shout disbelievingly after her departure "A fucking MINOTAUR? What the hells?!"
She shook her head and forged onwards through the labyrinth, clutching her staff in both hands, its soft glow and the glow of her ethereal halo and feathers tinting the bland stone around her a soft whitish blue as she aimlessly wandered, a glint of something eventually catching her eyes.

The priest bent over and picked up the object, a golden figurine, one she immediately recognized as a Naaru. Seriene gave a sharp gasp as she inspected the golden figurine, figuring that it must be one of the items required for her to pass onwards through this challenge.
She swallowed and opened one of the pouches clinging to her hip, slipping the item away and looking about worriedly for anyone following her before running back into the depths of the labyrinth, eager to find the rest of the items and be done with it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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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.

The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden


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Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor
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(Actually occurring in the Phyrexian Plains)

Seriene gasped and looked about herself in confusion as the walls of the colossal maze shimmered and disappeared, revealing the two armies upon the hills and horizon, a few flashes of recent, traumatizing memories tearing through her mind and making her momentarily weak at the knees before she shook her head and straightened, tightening her grip even more about her staff, knuckles turning pale around it, her fangs bared.
She balked momentarily at the blaring message from the closest army, assumedly the one belonging to the so-called "Nameless" and she turned to see the various golden portals ripped open around the edge of the fields.

She wouldn't go back. Couldn't! She would suffer and die for certain, at least here she could help, at least here she could survive, for a time at least...

The Draenei steeled her nerves and charged forward, faltering in her step for a moment as some pseudo-demonic thing sprouted some sort of unholy forest, the priest looking about uneasily as she found herself surrounded by all manner of unholy looking beasts, swallowing and silently giving a prayer to the Naaru, hoping against hope that she wasn't unwittingly aiding some demonic legion...

Seriene sighed softly before raising a hand, speaking a word softly as bluish light engulfed her and the ethereal image of an ankh appeared above her head momentarily, as light and strength flooded those near her, small purple diamonds of ethereal anergy appearing over their heads before vanishing, though the fortitude the light blessed energies gave stayed within them.
The Draenei breathed deep, trying to ignore the looks she got from the beings around her, lifting her head and squaring her shoulders, clasping her staff in both hands and pulling her hood up over her head, mostly holding her eyes, if not for their bright glow.

Whatever came now... She was ready as could be...
That was... Until she saw the walking mountain of a golem of course.

The setting changes from The Garden to Phyrexian Grassland

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Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor
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As Ivan ran into a circular room he noticed a golden scroll positioned in the middle of the room. Held in place by a stone hand gripping tightly around it. "Too easy. Must be a trap." Ivan thought as he saw the scroll. And indeed it was, as just a moment later he was smacked against the floor by a massive stone serpents tail swipe. The serpent bore fangs, but seemed unable to close it's mouth as ti's jawline was one solid piece of rock wheras the joints of it's body were fractured. Ivan ran to the scroll trying to snag it without having to defeat the snake, but the stone hand gripped onto the scroll too tightly to remove it. The serpent swept it's tail again and as Ivan dodged it the tail slammed into the hand breaking off one of the fingers. "That would work, if only I could get that serpent to directly hit the stone hand." He dodged another swipe of it's tail as he moved between the stone hand and the serpent. The serpent now realising Ivan was within striking distance of it's head slammed headfirst into the stone hand as Ivan barely dodged the sharp fangs. The scroll was now loose from the hands grip and the snake had sunken one of it's fangs deep enough into the stone to get stuck. Ivan reached for the scroll and in a moment of lacking awareness he got smacked by the serpents tail again. He had the scroll, but he had a small cut on his arm and he was certain it would leave a nasty bruise mark later.

Recognising the sigil of the spool around which the scroll was wound he opened it in disbelieve that he was actually holding one of the scrolls which had been presumed to be lost centuries ago. "Unbelievable, to think that I'd ever see one of these. The lost scrolls of Malifice the thaumaturge. Ah, now I understand upon which basis he said that regular magic pales in front of T-energy mages. To even think that something like that is possible, the implications of this could be massive. To use T-energy crystals as a conduit to change energy and matter without a direct link."

He was still reading the scroll as the maze faded out of existance and the messeges from the Black Rabbit came through. The scroll too faded out of existance taking away Ivans ability to read beyond the basics he had read. It was a shame the scroll dissapeared, but more pressing matters were at hand. He looked up at the army of shades and beyond that the obvious leaders, and the lumbering giant in the back, as he listened to the second part of the Rabbit's announcement. He smirked as the lie hit his ears. "You shouldn't have said that, now I am forced to help. I wouldn't want my ancestors look down upon me and see me break my oath as a mage of the college. In life and in death, a mage should never abandon those who need his help." He thought as he saw the ice spikes raise from the ground. He then was pleasantly surprised by a blessing of fortitude from the demon he saw before. "I will apologise in advance as I will make use of your kind blessing in a less refined way." He said to the demon.

Then he turned the energy he gained from the blessing into a bolt of pure ice white lightning striking one of the shades from affar. He knew how to deal with the undead, and if one thing can tear through a horde of undead it was lightning charged with holy flames. The shade bursted into white flames and quickly ignited the ones next to him. It took four shades out in total as the rest gracefully avoided touching the white flames. It was a nice trick, but it didn't help all that much, especially since he couldn't replicate it without another blessing. Not even to mention that next time they won't lumber into one another as one catches flame.

Ivan knew his power alone was lacking, certainly in this rather unarmed state. But he could see an opportunity to deal another energy effective blow. He formed a cloud of T-energy crystal dust and let it float over the army. Out of the cloud rain began to fall, hitting the shades and making them soaking wet as they moved on. It would be a good set up for the demon in the front who had created those ice spikes. Maybe he could pick off a few of the soaked shades. Trowing another bolt of lightning or maybe a fireball would have been an option too, but at the range he was at it would be too inefficient, compared to the cloud. The previous bolt had only been so effective because of the holy flames, which ripps every shred of life out of the living dead that touch it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor
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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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor Character Portrait: Kaula Vee-Ryn
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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.


The setting changes from Phyrexian Grassland to The Garden


Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor
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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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor
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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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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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.

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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane Character Portrait: River Saetyrix
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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.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor
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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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: River Saetyrix Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor
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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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane
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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: NPC Sheet Character Portrait: Tiotio Character Portrait: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Keres Leventis Character Portrait: Ivan Witherbane
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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: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor 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: Pravus the Grave Tender Character Portrait: Aera Kirishima Character Portrait: Seriene Arvor 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.