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The Hidden Warriors Of Arvenious

On planet Arvenious

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a part of The Hidden Warriors Of Arvenious, by Airanea.

This is where it begins, this is where it will all end.

Airanea holds sovereignty over On planet Arvenious, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

223 readers have been here.

Setting

Planet Arvenious, embark on the adventure.
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On planet Arvenious

This is where it begins, this is where it will all end.

Minimap

On planet Arvenious is a part of The Hidden Warriors Of Arvenious.

10 Characters Here

Samereah Brougen [1] Every woman beholds a she-devil within herself, Just pray you never see mine.
The Travelling Merchant of Death [0] Anything you need, he's selling it. But are you willing to sacrifice something in return?
Enoch Innesi [0] "If it's going to be a world with no time for sentiment, it is not a world I want to live in."
Phinneus [0]
aark'elie [0] Deceiving tyrant slayer
Cian Deimos [0] The wolf among sheep.
Narrator [0] The story teller, The puppet master, and the one who will fill your dreams.
Neite Galdofei [0] "Was I the woman who became a creature, or the creature which became a woman?"
Micran Listern [0] Dang this glowing skin.
Relan Dreila [0] This then is salvation - when we marvel at the beauty of light

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#, as written by Airanea
Narrator:
(Have you read the OOC before posting?)
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Morning has sprung in some places while night is settling in others, either way the entire planet seems to be at ease, at rest. Tired eyes caving to the need of sleep, elsewhere, refreshed eyes opened to start a new day. Outside the doors of civilian homes it was nearly silent, the odd pitter patter of footsteps, a coo-ing animal as they awoke, or as they hushed their mates to sleep.

The two separate suns that bless Arvenious with light and heat have continued rotating in precision, calculating time across the planet. Ancient trees reach high to the heavens their trunks being made of multiple thick winding stems. Green moss coated rocks lay randomly throughout the forest terrain, small critters scramble to seek shelter. Immeasurable mountains fall along the horizon in every direction, constantly blocking view to what rest on the other side.

Each of the hidden warriors have embarked different paths of life, travelling separate fates, yet they are all intertwined with one another. They do not know the power they possess, or what their future holds. Not one of them has a single clue as to where their ancestor’s decisions will take them. No stories have been passed down, No inkling has been sought.


While the universe drifts in an endless serenity, something passes.


Something out of our atmosphere tails across space, no breeze is reached beyond our containment of life giving gases. The cloud of dust dances along emptiness, swirling and spinning before crossing the first blazing sun. A sudden shadow is cast upon the wide stretched lands, enclosing the once bright rivers and wild life in strange shadows. What was once the beginning of another bright day was quickly being dimmed.

The haze continued on its path, the small gathered specks moving along in graceful, seemingly practiced movements. Within moments the second sun was covered, and then darkness crept over our existence. Something had changed in the entire balance of the planet; even the villages, forests, and seas that had already sunk into shadowed nights could feel the clinging unsuspected change.

Your body is suddenly wrapped in icy sensations, death is breathing d o w n your back, you can feel his l o n g dead fingers lingering along the nape of your neck, but if you turn to look, no one is there.

Your breath is seen and the moisture of your optics are getting closer to the brinks of freezing. You’re not the only one who feels this, everyone around you seems to be in the same state, but they don’t move... nothing moves, only you.


Has fear grasped the ones you know to the point of paralysis?
Are they frozen?
Has time frozen?


Your alone in actions now, the eerie feeling of an over whelming loneliness closes in on you.


Listen!
Closely
Be silent
Do you hear it?

There’s a rustling in the bushes, but no wild life is stirring, there is no wind, in fact you feel as if you've ran out of breath; you can't breathe! Something’s clawing at the entire world around you, sharp talons ripping at your ear drums, the sound gut wrenching, and it fills your entire essence. Beyond the tearing screech there’s a deep cackle, but where is it coming from?

Beneath you, it’s coming from under your feet, a howl of laughter like you've never witnessed before. At this laughter the entire planet shutters, the vegetation nearly quakes with fear, and you feel as if your very soul is being pulled from your body; Emptiness begins c r e e p i n g up on you.

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Character Portrait: Samereah Brougen
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#, as written by Airanea

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The world had just begun to spin into the dust of twilight, leaving the stars to weakly bite through the fading veil of dueling suns, and the singular eye of moon to peer upon the tired landscape. Oily shadows spun webs across vision, leaving the harder edges of sight bound to the failing glow of yet another withering day. This was but the first of sweeping cries to rally those nocturnal beasts from the blankets of slumber, and while the wind had yet to recoil from the heat of summer soon born, its gentle sighing pressed less feverantly through the outstretched limbs of trees. Songs of bird like creatures praised the fall of the kingdom of light, and rejoiced upon the awakening blackness that encroched inch by inch upon a distant horizon that seemed forever out of reach. So to did Relans spirit alit upon the sands of time, watching the colors of the world bleed away into the drifting nothing that had begun to swallow all the terrible things that drank the twin suns warmth, and with a welcoming smile cast towards the moons knowing face did the man embrace the change in full.

What brief pleasures this scene gave to the would be god, was salted by the groans of ecstasy echoing from the hollow frame of the broken Akerlial that lay nearby. The creatures body twitched and contorted, bits of it shifting into things partly familar or vastly unreconizable as it cooed and swam within the effects of Sevran. Thick strands of drool hung like glittering jewels upon its cracked twisting mouth, and its eyes fluttered between colors befitting a butterfly caught upon the lush airs of summer. Of all the races touched by the Unclean Light, Relan had always enjoyed these the most, and time and again had watched with interest as various specimens of this species writhed in pure rapture of the bestowed bliss. Yet, once again, it would prove not to be the day for such amusement as the sharp oder of shit rose to bite at the Rahnerats nostrils, the discusting thing having soiled itself and without missing a beat, now rolled about in it wonderously unaware of the shame.

Relan couldn't help but let the sigh slip past those all to pale lights, shake of shaggy hair offering that fatherly disaproval that grew upon features, and without hesitation struck out with leather boot at the beast. Metal strengthened tip made connection with what seemed a cross between a nostril and ear upon the ever changing form. The resonding crackle of bone sending shivers of delight along the Rahnerats spine, and forced natural glow to haunt flesh but a tone brighter. The force of the strike sent a jerk through what could only be assumed as the shifters head, and yet for all the blood that now seeped through its flesh, it still echoed those sounds of praise for its newly found abusive god that loomed over it. Such was the strength of the dose given, such was Relans wish for it to feel free of mind.

Yet while the female, as it was decidedly so, had been allowed an brief escape from this mortal coil by Relans touch, its soul was still trapped within that spongy flesh that remained covering the ever shaping bone, and of course this to must be set free to soar amongst the cosmos. So with such mercy did the man crash metal edge of thick soled boot into the thing again and again, till at last there was but the stilling mass of meat that leaked vital fluids upon the grass. At last it was at peace. At last it had a final form to slumber in. Surely this was more proof that he had attained godhood. What other sort of creature could see and hear the pain of its existence, and grant it respite from its very being? So bright with strength of thought, the mans own skin shown like the stars themselves, flooding the woods with light of a self made diety, and silently challanged the heavens to deny such a proposal.

Grey eyes would lift towards the cowardly skies, offering it one last chance to take these facts and to turn fate from the mans very hands. Perhaps the heavens at last heard the defiled prayers of blasphemy, and sent these torments down upon the world. Cold void coiled upon the man, tangling into the very light that pulsed through veins. Shudders of unknown lashed at awareness. Then, dreadful moments of pure silence billowed out before the thunderous crash of laughter seized everything and ridiculed reality itself. It was all enough to even make a God feel mortal once again, even if voice would lift in retort with shaken resolve.

"Come then, prove me wrong!"

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#, as written by Airanea
While the first sun rose over the high cliffs of Pabileon, orange and purple hues spread over the open sky. The waters beneath the ridged rocks reflected the vibrant hues, and the heat of the barley there summer warmed the air. Even as Samereah was deprived of sleep hunched over a man of ghastly white skin, her arms burrowed into his gut, elbow deep, she felt the warmth of Summers embrace.

Her anti emotion had begun to loose effect while at work on this man, The Belieet’s fear started clawing at her mind, causing for her fingers to work faster, slipping and sliding along his long cooling intestines. With her newly found speed his organs began spilling out over his flacid open flesh.

“I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” The words ripping through her tender red lips, before her teeth clamped them shut again.

The man’s family sat on his front floor, watching her work, their eyes widening at her sudden reaction. His body had stopped thrashing against the chains that held him in place, his eyes that were once sealed shut slowly opened, looking to Samereah with silent pain. His dried cracked lips parted uttering barley there words, but she could hear it like a freight train.

“Th-this i-i-s all yo-you-r doin-doing.” Both her hands still remained in the man’s innards, and as he passed to another life she was free of his pain, free of his fear, but now filled with her own anger.

“You fucking, ungrateful, weak skin bag!” Her hand gripped firmly around a dead kidney, squeezing tighter the small organ suddenly bursting in her own hand. Her face started to shift while a low pitch growl rumbled in the depth of her chest. Delicate eyebrows pulled higher and higher on her forehead, arching to unnatural points, loud snaps and cracking could be heard while her ears began to shift and flatten themselves, her jaw popping out of place morphing lower and lower. Her mouth opened releasing that deep growl, showing the long gone man a mouth full of thousands of razor sharp bone needles, which had replaced pearl white teeth. “Wasting my time!” Her head snapping back to the frightened children cowering against the far wall. “YOUR father, was a disgrace to this village! Didn’t you know?... Daddy never loved you!”

Forever though's words spoken from that woman's mouth would haunt these girls for the rest of their lives, and Samereah knew it. She know these three young beasts would grow to have a 'daddy' complex, when in reality this man was a good man, a hard working man, a man who should have held out just a little while longer to survive. Yet she felt no remorse on what type of lives they would grow to live, she felt no guilt for the four souls she had just ruined.

With that her red slicked hands burrowed up into his chest cavity, with her enraged psychotic self she had not noticed the shadows shifting in the room as the first sun of her day was covered. Narrow fingers embedded themselves in the limp muscle ripping it out in one quick movement. She tossed it to the children’s feet. Samereah nearly burst out laughing as it landed with a sickening splat, sending small speckles of red fluid towards their innocent faces. “Enjoy breakfast.” Spoken while pushing herself to a stand. The lean woman scooped up her medical kit from the ground nudging the lifeless body with her foot and stormed out the front door.

What she witnessed was stunning, stopping the blood covered demonic looking Rahnerat right in her tracks. The second sun was nearly gone from sight; her favorite hues in the sky had been replaced with dark plum purple, then finally engulfed by darkness, midnight black once again. Her entire body immediately became adorned in small bumps of cold, pin prickles felt up and down her spin, but her metallic silver eyes kept pinned to the heavens.

The silence had taken its toll already, until, her head whipped to the right looking to the trees watching carefully, and as she studied the forested area from a distance, she took note that nothing was in motion. The people, the leaves on the tree tops, nothing but the batting of her lashes and the heaving of her chest.

Samereah did not even have time to scream when the shrieking sound of tearing existence reamed on her ears. She suddenly fell to her knees, her arms wrapping around a pretty little head, covering still irregular ears. Then the laughter, the laughter that penetrated deep into her soul. A cackle so violent, so forbidden, that it calls to her yet it repels, she can't think straight, only reminding curled in a ball on the dirt of the planet, soot and grim caking her bare legs.

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#, as written by Delfa
The cracking of jaw, back and arm bones were, pre-usual, the first noises to be heard in the silent, damp cave. She had found it only yesterday, but it had become a welcome home for a wary traveler. Arms rose high, looking like a bed ragged youngling, Micran made an attempt to look outside. She had placed a medium weight bolder over the entrance for the night so that other creatures could not get in, she personally didn't like waking up with a friend that hadn't been there the night before. The small walk from her pallet on the floor, a soft, foldable, green, lived on ragged mattress covered in what looked like a black cotton blanket, holes ripped near the feet area and in certain other spots from years of use, took less than thirty seconds, the soft ground giving way slightly under her small weight.

With her hands braced on the bolder, her muscles tensed with the energy to move the rock, she started to shove. The first rays of the suns had not risen yet and she loved that the moon was still pooling it’s light on the surface of the planet. The animals around in the trees had not yet stirred so there was yet to be any singing, scrounging or other animal noises, but she knew that once the suns’ light the surface the forest would be a ruckus once again as it had been the day before. Her shorts that she had slept in had bits of dirt everywhere and the tank top she had on was a little muddier than it. ‘I have got to take a bath today; I believe I saw a river that way.’ Her eyes darted east and she scrunched her nose, she was going to have to walk right past a couple of animal holes….she really didn’t want to seeing as they had large claws and seemed to always be awake.

After a few moments of contemplation she went back into the cave, sighing to herself as she grumbled about how the floor of the cave had been dry the day before. Her hands wandered through her back, pulling out another black pair of shorts and a light blue tank top. She did this part of her day absentmindedly because she had done it so many times. While standing, her skin stretching back into place, it’s soft glow coming slightly alight, she grabbed her tooth brush, peppermint home-made teeth soap, hair comb and a rag with soap.

Her dirty feet dug into the ground slightly as she heard the squeaks, squawks and groaning from animals outside. A soft sigh lifted from her lips and she shook her head, not wanting to go outside now because of all the commotion that would be happening, animals getting their breakfast. Though she detested it, she slipped out side with her clothing and toiletries, running her way to the river that she had seen. It was quite large and the water almost looked like white rapids.
She stripped down and took care to put her worn clothing on a pile of leafs. She stuck a toe in the water and shivered slightly, her body rushing over with goose-bumps. Before she could think about it any longer she jumped in. Coming up, she gasped for air as the cold water surged around her. The current would have carried her off if she hadn’t have used her abilities to still the water around her, also warming it slightly. Having set her soap and things on the side of river, all she had to do was reach up a little and grab them. It took her only a few moments to get washed but already the suns had mostly both come up. She slipped out of the water and quickly got dressed, slipping on her shorts and tank top without much thought.

As she looked on, the second sun seemed to instantly be blocked out and….to her surprise, the forest stopped, even the fish stopped. She noticed this all at the same time because it was simply in front of her. She walked to one of the trees and looked at the bird, simply stared at it before she plucked it off the branch and held it in her hand. “Oh my….goodness….” she looked up to the sky and saw the blackness and dropped the bird, a whimper fresh on her lips as she turned around and started to run for the cave. Then the laughter started and she dropped to the ground, laying on her side with her hands over her ears, trying to block out the horrid noise. Soft screaming was supposed to come from her lips but, she couldn’t say anything from the massive shock to her system that this laugh was playing on her

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A landscape of sand shimmered when the first sun kissed the sky, seas of shifting sands casting unforgiving illusions on wary travellers. Phinneus was no exception. Said searing sand heated the pads of his biped feet, causing him to scuffle them in awkward military-like steps to avoid keeping them still for long. However, no colourful avian birds scoured the bright skies in search of maggot-ridden prey. No hissing creatures hounded his footfalls, and for that, he was thankful. Tedious as the journey was, the Belieet had somewhere to go. The scaling cliffs of Pabileon called his name; truthfully, he'd only heard vague whispers in the black markets that told beauteous stories of such a place, inhabited by equally wondrous people. Hook, line and sinker, the wiry creature took the bait and gathered what little he had to set out across the vast deserts. Oh! How he'd been wrong about them. Even his leathery wings felt chapped, let alone his cracked lips. Any attempt at a baleful grin earned him sharp, painful cuts and rasping protests that escaped his parched throat.

Stretching as far as the eye could see, the Belieet shadowed his scraggly visage with his wing before lowering it and tipping his empty flask. Empty. Ironic how that word described his very situation. Despite the pain, coughs wracked his hunkered form and he forced himself to swallow what little saliva he could swathe around in his dry mouth. His sandy tongue slid, with difficulty, over his sharp incisors until he coated them. It provided little comfort. And he continued down the beaten path, seeing no other soul slinking down along it; besides the skittering insects and occasional scaled beast cackling at his desperate efforts. Flight wasn't even an option at this point. His membranes were sore from resting placid at his sides, he occasionally flapped them to regain sensation. Numbness claimed his forefingers, an uncomfortable feeling that could only be remedied with a good rest and warm bath. How long had it been since he'd waded in the rivers of Solenea? A favourite place of his. There were no judgements, no looks of disapproval or disgust—definitely, it had been a favourite of his. Perhaps, he wouldn't see it again.

With grim determination, Phinneus decided he didn't really care. Crimson cotton flapped restlessly around his lanky waist, providing no requiem with its' blazing heat. It might've been the brown hair covering his body that made it so unbearable. He managed to lose his head, his heart, his air, his sight in his endeavours (metaphorically speaking, mind you); but he still tried to find the other side, whichever side offered greener horizons. Two suns seemed to taunt him, cackling across the horizon as they slowly snailed their way upwards. He hoped—no, prayed, that he wouldn't be in the Nethers when both suns reached their peak in the sky. No doubt, the landscape that was littered with scavenged goods and skulls, would turn into some kind of hellish place. A soft snigger escaped his chapped lips, as he tried focusing on the soft clicks of his clawed feet, drumming with the beats of his stuttering heart.

“If I knew where home was,” the Belieet lilted balefully, eyeing the horizon through orange lenses, “I'd know where the hell I was going.” Hopeless. Oh, but it’s harder to lie when the scathing breeze becomes a gale, stirring the dust across the wide plains. It’s harder to think when the clouds roll in and being alone means being afraid. Dragging tired feet, and creating snail trails behind him, Phinneus heard the faint whispers carried by the wind. The hair on the back of his furred neck rose in protest, urging him to run from invisible creatures—instead, he glanced around and huffed his impatience—, there was nothing there. Hunger and dehydration were playing tricks on him, that much he knew. The wind was stirring the dust and the mud, painting his moon-pale arms into bruised blues and purples. He was afraid that he looked how he felt but he was too tired to run, too tired to even quiver. A strong Belieet feared no one; a phrase his kin lived by, something he found no truth in.

Goosebumps tempered his flesh, caused him to involuntarily shiver. It was enough to cause Phinneus to whip his head around, staring at unseen enemies and imaginary monsters. Still, nothing. Nothing stirred the dusty vegetation, nothing stirred behind looming boulders and cliff sides. In the distance, however, he believed he spotted grassy plains wagging temptation in his face. His feet began to drag forward, ignoring the solemn fear growing in the back of his head. The wind seemingly died down, muting the surroundings considerably. His breathe caught in his throat, whereas hooked fingers clawed hopelessly at his throat—nothing, was he dreaming? What was happening? No good, no damn good. And then he heard it; a loud, roaring laugh drowning out any other noise. The Belieet's knees buckled just as he reached the edge of the forest; where sand ended and moist earth began. His toes curled into the soft earth, aching in their need to rest. The rest of his body tensed with the flight or fight sensation, begging... begging what? A single breath rasped from curled lips, a last act of contempt before darkness claimed his vision. If he ever believed he had a soul—it pulled, pulled towards something he couldn't possibly fathom.

Some would call this being alive.

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#, as written by Airanea
Narrator:
(Have you read the OOC before posting?)
Image



The loud rumble of laughter eventually f a d e s away, although the emptiness that was gnawing at your inner most secretive self still courses through your veins, playing in your system like an intoxicant. Your mind seems a little hazy but it's apparent that there are no more ear shattering sounds, death is no longer touching you, but he is watching. All you can hear is the heavy panting of your own breath, feeling your chest heaving and your heart nearly busting through the hard bone cavity that contains it.

While you give in to the sudden silence that finally washes over everything near to you there is a mild beckoning in your soul, a light calling to your being.

You have to move
You have to get out of here

You feel directed by the 'calling' pushing and pulling you in the way it wishes you to go. Pulling you north or south, pushing east or west. This mild tug slowly becomes stronger and stronger, cradling to your every need.

Your mind seems to be wiped b l a n k, and without notice suddenly nothing matters. You couldn't care less about your family's location, in fact, what is family? Try to remember loved ones, what is family? WHO is family? If you come up short don't feel bad, because you won’t remember in...

Three

Two

One


"You must gather your things!" A small voice sounds off in your mind, although it is not your voice, it rings higher, much higher, impossibly high; a voice of innocence that you do not question, a voice you do not second guess.

"Only what truly matters child, no more than you can run with." A second voice, this one much deeper, full of love and concern. You feel the need to move quickly, like a red licking fire has been lit beneath your feet, every passing second seems too short. The planet that once shifted time to your every need now has not enough space to even let you think freely. An a c h e in your core keeps you moving, keeps you focused. Then there is a loud booming crack, unlike a sound you have ever heard before but could be comparable to thunder.

When your eyes graze the horizon you see a high beam of icy blue reaching above the heavens, exactly parallel to it stretched far across the lands is another beam, one of crimson. While everyone and everything around you is still perfectly motionless you hear loud screeches of excitement. No these sounds do not come from the ones you may have held dear, and no they do not come from the same place the 'bout of laughter was drawn from. They are all over Arvenious, cackles and giggles, screams and yelping, then the ground shakes with what can only be assumed to be a stampede.

The blazing red beam grows brighter every few seconds, lighting the dark sky and casting fiery shades upon your surface. The voice of love and wisdom continues to ring in your mind but you can only pick up every few words, and they are not directed at you but directed to one another, a discussion of sorts you were not meant to hear.

"It’s time, the beasts have been called forth, Hamel has opened the land. Had no one any idea he had creatures roaming about our planet! Had no one any clue as to the spies he had sent above ground?" The silence echoes for but a minute in your thoughts, while your feet push you forward, moving in the direction of the cold blue beam. "What has become of us? What will become of our people?" This man's voice slowly drags out at the end, growing fainter as it comes to a close. You can't help but wonder what or who Hamel is, and what beasts were spoken of.

You don't know w h y and you don't know w h e r e you’re going but your means of travel carry you along as fast as they can.

You know you must be s t e a l t h y, as you move along you still feel the rumbles of the planet, the f l e e t i n g members of Hamel's army.

Move quickly children, you do not want to be an innocent take down in a demons path
Do you?

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Left amongst the quiet wash that followed the laughter, every breath burnt at lungs in ragged gasps. Somehow still upon his own feet, the man lingered in moments that seemed much to long, and much to deep. Tossed beneath the waves of things that should not be, could not be, it was found that even a god could drown below the undertow of unreasonable things. Gray eyes were wild with no understanding to grasp onto, and at last felt what it was like to be dragged under further by the chaos that ruled the deepening night. The stars had abandoned the heavens, leaving questions unanswered. No longer was there a moon to find upon the face of black skies, and how deeply this all troubled Relan was clear upon those once defiant features.

It was beautiful in a way, was it not? An entire world, quaking upon a single voice. An entire world, darkened by a single touch. An entire world, corrupted upon a single whim, and as childish as it would seem, Relan had closed vision off from it all. Behind heavy lids of daydreams had it been twisted to suit. It was all for him.. No it was because of him. Somehow will had leaked through, and tainted everything. Somehow desire had grown wings and was set free. Somehow he had preformed this miracle.

A God -- a real god -- is a verb. Not some old man with special powers. It's a force, it warps reality by just being there. It doesn't have to want to. It doesn't have to think about it, it just does. That's what most people do not understand, until its to late. Even if the gods mind is gone, it still dreams.

Drifting amongst the abstract reality that was of Relans own making, did at last that sensation start to prickle at the back of neck. Perched amongst the void, something stronger then the Rahnerat was watching. Something quicker then Relan was just out of sight, salivating for its chance to sate hunger. Something had chosen him, and as the hymns song dried from minds puddle, did gray eyes open to welcome the hidden beast of fear.

Spreading arms to the vastness of space, words came from not the heavens, but from within the cluttered grounds of minds shelter. With thoughts seized upon the suddenly silent cogs of self, the two spoke not to the others of the world, not to the saints blessed by old gods, not to the righteous or innocent.. No, they spoke to him.

Three
Two
One

Having abandoned the gruesome sacrifice of meat, there was only the fluid motion of muscles stretching below the thin fabrics of flesh, and the crashing sound of heartbeat. There was only the wind whipping past ears, and the next stride that struck the forest floor. Without mind to doing so, Relan had set off through the corpses of trees in full sprint. The air itself was set afire with the gleeful laughter, screams, yells, and for long moments the man did not know if these sounds were his own or not, but such minor things were not of matter. There was only the desire.. the need.. to glide amongst the night.

The canopy of outstretched wooden limbs grew thicker with every stride, veiling the beams that scarred the night, but Relan knew something was there, etching against the face of coming midnight. The Rahnerat could taste the lights purity upon the sky, a glow to rival his own brilliance, and knew without knowing it must be silenced. Only a god should be allowed to offer the skies such a thing. Only a god should be allowed to threaten this world.. his world.

So amongst the chaos, the sounds, and all the things that would later be known to Relan as 'The Shattering Of What Was',
the self made deity swam within the tides of what was soon to be.

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The woods were as still and quiet as a cemetery, yet simultaneously stirring with some silent sense of anxiety. Birds had hushed their calls and sat on the branches of the trees petrified, as if trying to camouflage against a predator by holding still. The reptiles and rodents that scuttled through dead leaves on the forest floor, usually in a constant rush for food, had all gone to their hiding places like they had heard enormous footsteps approaching. Even the busy insects ceased their endeavors, ants taking to their underground civilizations and hornets fleeing to their nests. An oppressive, ominous feeling clung to every molecule of space, but at once was also on the move, surging through the forest like a great tidal wave. It seemed to drown the woods in its flood, yet left no impact on the grass or trees or even so much as the wind.

In the silence, a soft, quick scurrying could be heard, something darting across the ground, flitting through the the forest floor debris but causing no crinkle of the leaves or snaps of the sticks. And above, an occasional fffwoooshh above the trees, the sound of something solid beating at the air, and the only thing that could presently bring the wind to stir and cause the leaves to shiver in its aftermath.
As the fleeting footsteps continued through the forest, the wing beats in the air steadily lagged behind. Only when they had entirely vanished did the swift footsteps slowly cease.

Now that the being had come to a stop, his lack of camouflage was blatantly apparent. A bright form stood out in the dark, earthy shades of the woods, white-ish pink scales a beacon in the darkness that seemed to have consumed the world. Vivid red eyes scanned through the forest from where he had come. But his pallid features showed little sign of neither fear nor concern as he searched for the aerial sound that had accompanied him. "... Aark'elie?" He called back, soft, melodic voice identifying him as an Akerlial. Silly thing... So distractable sometimes. Ah, well. He'll catch up. Some force beckoned him forward, pulling him in the direction of something, something important, something growing nearer. He and his companion had both felt the pull of this something and were on the move to meet it. It was close... The Akerlial felt it. So, trusting that Aark'elie would resume their path and follow after him with no trouble, the scaled shapeshifter resumed his run.

It wasn't much longer before he could see space ahead... A lack of trees, that is. He slowed to a trot but was nonetheless quick-footed, clawed feet seeming to flit across the tops of dead leaves as if he were floating along. Upon coming to the edge of the forest, he seemed to have found the source of the magnetic force. A gargantuan bat with fur the color of the sand expanding behind it lay collapsed on the ground, likely from its trek across this desert. The Akerlial studied the creature. I could kill it now.... and no one would know... His ruby eyes narrowed. But that is... not what I am here for, he thought hesitantly, sounding almost defeated. He grabbed the canteen at his side and uncapped it before letting about a quarter of its water pour onto the head of the enormous bat. "Wakey wakey," he said quietly, musical tone only adding to the pure, gentle chime of his voice.

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Godhood is not something you give to yourself. Godhood is not self-declared. Saying otherwise just proves that you are nothing but a haughty blob of arrogance. As redundant as that sounds, it is truly the only thing to describe what this ghastly man felt about the foolish Rahnerat. He would've liked to have stayed away, and left the glowing man to whatever fate would befall him; but for The Merchant, this was nothing but a perverse fantasy. It was his duty. Why? Why couldn't someone else do it? Because it was his only reason for living. Life is precious; and The Merchant was not ready to dance with devil just yet.

Oh? "Who is 'The Merchant'?, you say? He is something, but he is not. He is not nothing, but he secretly is on the inside. A terrifying shadow on an already shadowed world. Those that meet him are reduced to blithering idiots; hollow shells of what they once were. For this is the power of the cloaked man; The Travelling Merchant of Death. While he has never actually killed anyone directly, he has made those that met him wish for death. Nay, pray for it. No one knows for sure how long he's been around, but it has been quite a while. Whether he is alive or dead is question that even he can't answer. But either way, if you hear the neighing of a non-existent horse, there is no escape. He has come for you.

For that is exactly what Relan heard. And what he would see in front of him, would be nothing but a hooded man, cloaked in an onyx trenchcoat. The demonic features of his skeletal hands, and his wolfish feet would stand as the most noticeable, and strange, features of The Merchant. His arms standing limply at his sides, his blank stare piercing Relan's very soul. Even if Relan didn't stop his running, the man would keep popping up in front of him. An endless haunt, a relentless pursuit. The man would remain silent.

And within that silence, within Relan's head, came a voice. A gravely, almost sinister voice appeared within Relan's mind. A voice, dripping with evil; but at the same time, filled with an everlasting sorrow. The voice, of one who has seen it all.

"Hello, Relan. You may not know me, but I know you. I can grant you nearly anything your heart desires; for I am a merchant. A merchant of dreams. A merchant of wishes. A merchant of promise. I can sell you any of these things.. but are you willing to sacrifice something in return?"

Images of wealth, women, power, and other common wishes would swim around the Rahnerat's mind, as The Merchant's telepathic voice implanted itself in a desolate corner inside Relan's head.

It has begun.

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Here he stood, grounded in the middle of a dense wood, his companion a brief hundred yards ahead of him.

aark'elie had landed to stretch out his cramping limbs while the swift Akerlial had carried on without him, it was a system they worked well with. He took his time giving every muscle a deep long stretch. He could feel it, the release of tension being pulled from the flesh. The tenderness in his limbs dripping out of him with each movement. With a final full body stretch he fell languidly to the ground. He took a moment to roll over onto his back laying there lazily appreciating the abnormal stillness of the woods. It was something he couldn't get enough of, pure unadulterated silence. If he thought about it too hard it should seem off, nowhere was ever like this . Normally forest would be alive with the insistent buzzing of insects, constant whirling of wind through trees, or the annoying twitter of birds.

Then there was the ever constant chill he had forever carried with him when he was alone. It was a frigid chill and it wasn't the air around him. This chill was in his bones it wrapped, like the tendrils of vines, thin but all consuming around his frame. It should be unsettling this alien nature crawling through him, however he couldn't bring himself to care. Instead he stayed there a bit longer, analyzing it, the frigid feeling. He's tried to compare it to temperatures his felt beforee but nothing registers. When he obtains this realization, that this is a new experience never before felt, the adrenaline floods through him. Then it's gone, as if the fiery chemical of adrenaline running rampant within was like a fire that thoroughly chased away the layer of frost encasing his bones. By now he is standing and is completely bewildered. His head whips back and forth as if he can sense eyes on him. A high anxiety starts pulsing under his scales, and his breath increases. Everything is vivid and clear and the silence around him is deafening. With a loud screech of frustration he takes to the the air violently. He beats his wings fiercely as if fending off an enemy that is encircling him... it feels like drowning in the water. With another deafening call he launches himself forward and is flitting around the trees with acute skill. A sudden light washes over him as he breaks through the final row of trees and is cast out into a whispering land of sand and, as if the edge of the forest where a physical barrier, a weight is lifted from him. aark'elie ceases his constant flapping and coast on a sudden thermal of warm air. The threat was gone and he carried on like nothing had happened.

It wasn't long before he came upon Farid lurking in the sands by a mass of something. Swooping in gracefully beside the pale akerlial, he found himself standing before a large bat like creature.
"What is this? Is this it? Is it dead? Are we done here?" He fired off in rapid succession, looking from Farid to the thing layed out in the sand.

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Funny thing about fainting, time always seemed to slow down and plunge you into surreality. What scarce trees there were faded into a heated haze, elongated and caused his eyes to clamp shut from the effort to focus on them. He could feel gritty sand caked on his teeth, and didn't have the energy to hulk it up—couldn't even manage to swill it away from his forked tongue, perhaps his mouth was a permanent sandbox? As weathered and leathery as his sore wings. Speaking of which, they seemed numb at his sides and he wondered vaguely if they were even there. Twinkling lights danced overhead on the horizon of a night unknown; and the sharp fresh air was all around, as clear and bright as a musical note. Inch by inch, Phinneus raised his furred head so that his chin was propped against the cool soil, baring his sharp incisors against the dirt and sand loitering in his mouth. The tickling sensation of blood reaching his limbs slowly returned to him, though not fast enough. A noise? No, nothing. He couldn't bare turning his head. It would expend far too much energy. Large, pointed ears flattened against his cranium as he snuffled against the blades of grass—... another creature?

Splash! Phinneus' entire head was soaked; water that seemingly appeared from nowhere. The God's cursing his existence, mayhaps? Laughing at his pitiful existence? A washed up rat pulling itself out from the seas of sands. It wasn't likely that he was dreaming, nor was he drowning. Like slowly greased cogs, his dehydrated mind lagged through impossible episodes and situations that weren't likely true. He tilted his head and pressed his face against the ground, thankful for sweet liquid that fell into his maw. Wakey, wakey. What little strength the Belieet had, came back in frightening speeds. He flapped his wings desperately, righting himself back to his shaky legs to face his assailant. An assailant who hadn't driven its' blade into his back, but instead dumped water over his head. It was unlikely that he was hunting him, preying on weakened creatures—no, no, it didn't make sense.

“Who the hell are you?” Phinneus rasped, shaking his great head like a dog. Akerlia, that much was sure. The talons on his feet clicked as he retreated a few paces, rubbing ruefully at his eyes with his only knuckle. Only when he rubbed the water away did he open his opaque eyes, staring balefully at the intruder who'd unintentionally resuscitated him. A shrieking noise escaped his raw throat as another figure swooped in from the heavens, landing gracefully beside his acquaintance. “Leagues and leagues of walking, and now I stumble upon life,” the Belieet seethed, a charismatic drawl colouring his words. He flapped his wings once more, trying to regain feeling into the appendages—just in case, just in case these two tried anything that might threaten his life. Even if he was opposed to violence, he wasn't below slicing up two sacks of meat to save his own skin. And then he spotted what had been pulling his solemn soul along, a blazing blue light brightening the horizon. A cannon splitting the sky open, casting luminescent hazes against every surface. Voices. Was he even conscious? We're they figments of his imagination brought on by hunger and fatigue? Phinneus' spade nosed sniffed the air, twitching against the vibrating currents he sensed. Nothing, he couldn't detect where the voices were coming from.

“Did you hear that?”

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#, as written by Delfa
With the laughter fading the ache in her head died down slightly, but into what she did not know. Fully, Micran, would never understand what was happening to her, couldn’t understand, but the next few moments were the only ones in which she had the sense to start running back to her small cave camp. She shoved what she could into her backpack before she felt the pull, the calling of a need to get away. Her hands ceased moving at all before the pull got stronger and she stood, pulling the pack on. Her feet were faster than her mind at this point but at the very least she had packed everything but a few pans before she fled. The mind of this Rahnerat was void of anything until.

Three

Two

One

Her face dropped into a dumbfounded stare, but her feet kept moving. The small voice said it’s bit but she had already done it, then the larger voice came over and it soothed her for some reason. Though she kept moving the voices persisted and stayed to chat in her mind. What was strange was that she didn’t think she should be listening to the conversation in the first place but that it was like someone had forgotten to close a door. With that alone thought she started to try and push the voices out, she might have been an outcast but that didn’t mean that she wanted to listen to everyone’s conversations. In truth she wanted to stay away from other’s as much as possible so….this went against everything she had taught herself.

With the crack from the sky, her eyes shot up, the blue and red lights gleaming off their surfaces. The only movement around her was that of her own trembling body, she was frightened and she couldn’t help but shake. The pulling got worse though and she took off again, in the same direction that she had been before. She fell only once, over a rather large rock that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Then the voices once again started speaking like the door had been left open. She couldn’t exactly make sense of what they were talking about but she decided to just leave the door alone this time and try not to listen to intently from her side of the door. Once again, even with the speaking, the only thing she could fully focus on was the pulling and the running, it was all that kept her from collapsing from sock with what was happening in the skies and on the horizon above.

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The huge creature stirred after its face was soaked with water. Its large ears slowly lifted from its head, while its lips parted to reveal considerable canines as it appeared to inhale the liquid. Then quite suddenly, the great thing was awake. Its huge, leathery wings lifted and flailed about to awkwardly push it back on its feet, sending sand flying in numerous directions about it. The Akerlial took a step back to crouch somewhat, a hand moving tentatively nearer to one of the blades at his side in case the winged beast should strike.
"Who the hell are you?" It cried hoarsely, shaking the water from its head and fur. The Akerlial was slightly taken aback to hear it speak, but then, he had been drawn to the being as something.. significant. A male... Belieet then, perhaps? Clearly not a Masked Belieet like Aark'elie, but another variant of the species. The being moved a few wary steps back to put some space between them. The pale Akerlial studied the bat's clawed feet and took notice of the bony addition to the end of his tail. The Belieet opened his eyes to leer back at him with cavernously black orbs.

The shapeshifter picked up on the sound of familiar wing beats approaching. His Belieet companion soon landed gently beside him, sending up another whirl of sand. A small smile hovered across his pale lips. "It's not dead, at least not anymore," he answered with a subtle laugh in his tone. "I think he's..." He glanced to the bat as if for confirmation. ".. a Belieet?" But the creature was gazing above and behind them. The Akerlial followed his gaze, turning to find the bright pillar of light beaming down from the dark clouds and seemingly drilling into the planet. "Ah, bizarre sort of phenomenon, isn't it?" But the bat's focus was still elsewhere. He seemed so out of it, the shapeshifter probably had another opportunity to attack if he wanted, but still made no move to do so. The Akerlial glanced to his scaly, patterned friend. ".... Voices, almost, right? Yes, very bizarre. Today as a whole has been quite out of the ordinary for us." He smiled to the Masked Belieet, red eyes glinting as if with some inside joke.

The thinner end of his tail made a small twirl, apparently to signify a change of subject. "Well, desert-wandering Belieet, I am Farid, an Akerlial as you may have guessed." He failed to mention his Sickle-Claw sub-race. It was obvious enough, but it wasn't something Farid much openly mentioned when introducing himself; not everyone looked kindly on the few remaining Sickle-Claws. "My friend here is a Masked Belieet." He left Aark'elie to offer his name.

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There was no anguish in those steps, as it was not Relan who moved, but the world around the man that flowed upon every movement. Breath came in easy pace with the race through the darkness, leaving the would be god free of any suffering. Destiny called, and so onward the upon fleeting strides did the world spin.

Ignorant of the branches that touched flesh and grasped at fabrics, was there only the exhilaration of flight bound by gravity, but every second did those gray eyes lead. Their vision parting past shadows and drifting ahead to plot route, but never had they beheld such trickery as this. There amongst the gloom stood a solitary figure that passed upon the blur of motion, only to be birthed once more just ahead. Had mind run askew with the cracking of world? Or perhaps the night troubled senses more then first assumed, and left Relan under the power of wisps that would lead steps astray. No longer was the man, which glowed the faint light of Rahnerat, sure and so with doubts heavy upon shoulders did path slow.

Hello Relan... Again the mans mind was touched by a voice that was not his own, but this newly found passenger within the confines of skull seemed different then the last. It left oily stains upon the edges of mind, and a bitter taste lingering upon the back of tongue. Trust was quickly put aside as tempting images took hold to dilute the workings of thought. How could such treasures be ignored? Power, wealth, and women, the very corner stones upon which all life stood, well as far as the would be god was concerned, were offered in glimpses. Yes, these things were of interest, but only slightly. Perhaps what troubled Relan more then the power such offerings gave however, was the fact that name was known to this... merchant.

As dried lips cracked open to offer warning, hesitation stilled the Rahnerats suddenly. Sacrifice..? Him? Well now, this one didn't seem to wise now did he? Relan was to be sacrificed for, not the other way around. So instead of words laughter erupted, not as heavy and world trembling they had heard but an hour before, but heavy and full of mirth. It was as if all of it had boiled over at last, every bit of the shattering events adding deep tones to the glee which it was evoked with. Peels of mirth at last broke, trembling hand lifted to wipe away a tear shed from such outburst.

"And tell me O ghost who appears as sanity withers, what proof have you to this claim?" Voice trembled, skittered on the brink of madness from it all. Surely this was all some sort of jest, some sort of game mind had flittered to. "Things invade my mind, speak to me, and now you do the same? What could you even possibly have to offer me?". Women could be drugged, lured in by the light. Power could be gained by stealing the lives close to rulers, and this one sought to offer Relan what already could be claimed without price? Yes, it HAD to be a joke. It had to be mind loosening.

"Now, unless you have any evidence what so ever that you're not merely a fever dream, off with you. I've some place to be." The last part was spoken more of a question then statement. Yes, the Rahnerat was pulled, and this the male knew. Yet to where? By whom? Was it this one all along? Had fate itself set the road to this goal? These questions alone made Relan study this being in a new light beneath the stars.

It was getting bloody tiresome not having any answers for any of these questions.

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Mocking was one thing that The Merchant was not too keen about. Mocking resembled arrogance. And it was Relan's arrogance that brought this unholy being to him in the first place. The voice in Relan's mind started up again, this time with violent bitterness. It clawed at Relan's very sanity. "So, you doubt my powers, child? You mock my very existence? Do you even know who I am? I am the judge. I am the jury. But you sir.. are the executioner."

The friendly images in Ralen's mind, quickly turned into images filled with unspeakable horrors. Masked men, with their very flesh peeled off in many places, invaded the image of a roomful of women. Disgusting things were done to them, with more than just rape. Dismemberment. Disembowelment. Lacerations. Decapitations. Now, tell me you can still remain sane after witnessing images of naked women being butchered by mutated freaks with claws, with terrifying screams accompanying such a thing. But these horrors didn't stop there. In the images of power and wealth, Relan went from being a king, into a torture victim; poorer than the poor. In it, he was weeping as he was whipped, thrown into an iron maiden, and then slowly burned to death. He attempted to fight back, but right before he actually hit something he would instead, throw the punch at himself. He knocked himself out this way, which gave the kidnappers enough to do some messed up things while he slept. The last image that appeared in Relan's mind, was calmer than the rest; Relan living in a normal house with a 'normal' wife.. but his Unclean light was totally non-existent. His wife wore the pants, and even beat him with pots and pans when he mucked something up. He was covered from head to toe with bruises, scars and scrapes, and his wife never had the decency to heal them for him, due to the fact she was mocking his inability to heal.

All of this was shown inside Relan's mind with shocking detail and intensity. Every sound pounded within Relan's skull. Every bit of pain Relan felt in the image, he felt on the outside world. Even after the images subsided, they swam around inside his head. They burned themselves into his memory.

"You see? That is what happens.. to those who mock me. I doubt that a wonderful 'God' such as you, Ralen, would like any of that to happen, now would you?" The bitter, scornful voice spoke; a mockery of Ralen's own voice. The Merchant then decided it would be a good idea to pop up right in front of Ralen's face, leaving a trail of shadow to dissolve into the air behind him. If Ralen did anything stupid, like attack The Merchant, he would simply pop up behind him and implant some more disturbing images into his mind.

And trust me, he can do a lot worse. Rape? Torture? The Merchant hasn't even begun to show off his horrific powers. So come on Relan, do something stupid. Just try it, punk.

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Things bled into reality by the very scenes the merchant offered to the mind, but perhaps the other male knew less about Relan then it had believed. The crashing of door splintering. The screams of innocent females. Their violation. Gray eyes widened against the gloom, shivers running cold fingers along the bone work beneath the flesh of the male. In the landscape of imagination the details stood out in stark contrast to the scene of woods that surrounded them, and oh how he loved this first movie that was played.

The worthless bitches screamed for their lives, while things that were not men tore at their flesh. Weeping cries asked for salvation as innards were shown to the dim light of the room. Gurgled moans as teeth sank into them and tore free large gobs of bloody meat. The pathetic nature of the prey, and the sheer power to which these freaks displayed did not bring fear.. no it brought excitement. Relans dried tongue lashed out across the dust covered lips, as if there were but a hint of the taste there. Muscles twitched with desire against the frame of bone, and even in the darkness of night, it was clear that the Rahnerat was entranced to the point of ignorance. The God was in that room, arms outstretched into the masses, and running claws against the flayed bodies of females. The God was there bathing amongst the hymn of torture, and with every fiber of being Relan desired to be there in that moment.

It was like a feast just out of reach, and oh how did stomach growl with hunger.

The second offering to the third eye was not as appealing to man, and while the images fluttered by, there was the occasional wince or cringe. Death was something Relan knew himself not immune to, but knowledge is not by any means acceptance. So voice was fought down remaining within capture of lungs, but admittedly there was a the brief growl of anger. Even as this horror placed before Relan had there been a sense of peace to hold onto, it steadied nerves with even breaths. For you see by these acts, the God would become a Martyr to religion. By this call, his children would rise and flood the world. Even if every last one of the disciples were to be slain in such uprising, they would still scar this world in His name. It had happened with other faiths, so why not this one? Defiant smile brought to the air a tale of arrogance, gaze boring into the Merchants hide.

" Is this all you can do? Offer pictures of things that might be? I'm almost dissapoi...."

Words fell away into a sound that was very un-deity-like, a mewl of despair. There then was the other Relan, powerless and tortured by the weaker sex. Covered in wounds and mocked, there then was the thing the Rahnerat feared most.
...no... the mind whispered
In the corner of a room that feeble reflection of Relan cowered as abuse rained down.
...No.... the mind begged
Like a slave with head bowed to a wife and her laughter.
...NO!... the mind roared

"Enough!"

Tendrils of liquid exploded from Relans frame, lapping at the darkness between the two, filling the night with the glow of a fallen star. The Unclean Light seemed tangible, moving like coils of smoke and weaving like the tails of serpents against the dim midnight. Gray eyes were set ablaze with rage, and body seized with tension that hardened features. Yet, somehow Relan managed to remain focused upon the apparition, that was the Merchant, and wait. Silent amongst this all was the bit of metal that had pulled from place in sleeve, and now glinted against the night like a dagger. A five inch long shard of armor, in left hand, was perched in a grip bound in frustration, and so tightly was it held that thin droplets of blood began to trace down its edge. Voice was shaken upon the insanity this ghost had placed upon the moment.

"What the hell do you want?"

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"My, my, my.. touchy now, aren't ya? I commend you, 'oh great and terrifying ruler of the planet', on succeeding withstanding those first images. Most people don't even get past the first few seconds, as mild as those images are." The voice in Relan's mind chuckled, with the silent body of The Merchant beginning to circle around him, like a vulture would a dead cow. "But, I do adivse you not to raise your voice to me. It hurts my sensitive ears, you know."

And with that, a painful image of Relan having his face melted slowly off appeared, quite suddenly, with several petrifying screeches of varying sound and volume accompanying it. It was enough to make you claw at your skull.

"Now.. as for my business with you.. I merely want to issue you a warning. If you don't quit with the whole God complex thing, I'm afraid I might have to change something about that." The clothes on The Merchant's body began melting off of his haunting form. What was left behind was something that you'd find in a horror novel; The Merchant's face was completely scorched, with a colony of maggots crawling around on it, like his head was nothing but a skull coated with mud and slime. His eyes were lidless, and they were nothing but onyx marbles - they did nothing but stare blankly at Ralen. He had no nose or mouth to speak of, but he did have gills. Yes, like a fish. Except this fish breathed the oxygen in the air instead of the water. His torso had the same disgusting substance wrapped around it like it was a shirt, but it most definitely was not. His arms were like tentacle- wait, scratch that. They were tentacles, tentacles with spikes on them. His skeletal hands had transformed even more spiky and dangerous as before, and were coated in a crimson substance that wasn't entirely unlike blood. But probably the scariest thing, was the fact he had fucking spider legs. And I'm not talking about those cute wittle black widow spider legs, I'm talking about legs made purely of bone and hair. The Merchant easily towered over Relan in his semi-true form now, and a smile seemed to form on the ghoul's mouthless face as he pretty much beckoned him to attack, which would be last thing that Relan would want to do. "Come on, Relan, show off your godhood and strike me down. But, if you don't think you're strong enough.. Why am I putting my hopes up? You're a Rahnerat that can't heal. An utter weakling." A sinister and snakely voice appeared this time, screeching and growling inside Relan's head, repeating his last words over and over again within Relan's mind.

But, before Relan could actually think of doing that, The Merchant vanished without a trace. His cloaked layed strewn across the ground, with a golden sceptre of kings lying near it. To take it, or not to take it, is the question.

I wonder how Relan's mind is going to take all this.. huh.

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#, as written by Airanea
Narrator
(Have you read the OOC before posting?)
Image




Some of the hidden ran their course, giving into the unexplained need to push forward, their feet land softly. They may stumble here and trip there, but nothing can deter them now that they have given in. The blunt force tugging them forward is as strong as ever. Being as the hidden are scattered all over the planet some of you must weave through trees long veins hanging from the crowns of the forest, threating to loop around your neck if you make one wrong judgement. Others are forced to exhausted swims across wide bodies of water, your feet kicking at still creatures, whom drift at the force. Your body being pushed to its limits, can you taste blood? Are your appendages going to give out on you?

It does not matter
Move!
Faster!

Phinneus had been accompanied by Farid and aark’elie, being caught up in minor introductions, yet a warning had been felt by the three of them, not a word spoken but a feeling deep within the core. You must not be there, you must seek safety, and you must leave, NOW!
Phinneus, who are these people anyways, who would stop for chit chatter when the planet is in such a state? What makes you think these two beings will treat you any differently than your own kind?
Why are you still standing there Phinnieus?
GO!

Meanwhile Relan had made the first encounter with The Merchant of Death, a sick and twisted turn of events for the self-proclaimed god. Even as the merchant made fears seem a reality Relan could still feel a pulsation of hope within himself, standing with by his side at all moments of terror was a small peel of light in the shadows, so to speak.

As all the hidden looked to the beam they had felt that bit of peace that Relan had. It turned the screeching and howling of unknown creatures to white noise.
Nothing matters nothing but getting to where you knew you needed to be.

You feel as if you have a purpose in life, something bigger than yourself, bigger than your loved ones, bigger than this planet.

When you come closer to the bright beam you should feel at home, safe, like finally you belong. Somehow, some way, the strange occurrence gave you reassurance of the future, reassurance of your beloved Arvenious.

When each individual person arrives their optics are set to take in an unusual scene. The bright radiating beam that drew you so near suddenly vanishes, although it can still be seen by the others, who still travel towards it.


Was it an illusion all along?



Where you stand you can feel the heat raising from the white sanded ground, the contrast of the warmth and the cold send every nerve in your body to a complex rage. It’s intoxicating, and you wish this feeling would last forever. It’s empowering, you feel as if you’re on top of the world, nothing can harm you now, and nothing is safe from you.

You’re surrounded by black unable to see three feet from your face; you’re on a new high of highs, You don’t NEED to see, because you’re untouchable. Even the most powerful gods would bow to you, wouldn’t they?

A surge of electricity runs through your veins, it flows with your blood, pursuing every bit of your being, and fuck does it feel good. Perhaps this is more pleasurable than the eruption of a long awaited orgasm, more pleasurable than a life being lost at the grasp of your hands; you have never felt such a sensation.


You’re addicted already, aren’t you?

Do you want some more my puppets?

Do you want me to give it to you?







What will you do next with such a feeling?

What WILL you do to keep this euphoria?

That is, if you can do anything at all.

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#, as written by Delfa
Mircan saw the blue and red light only slightly closer to her though she had been running for what felt like hours. Her toes digging into the soft dirt below her, her breathing coming in ragged breaths, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop for that matter. If she had, she thought that her bones would catch fire or she could die a slow painful death, so her choices kept her running. The blue light got closer still after the next two hours of the same monotonous surroundings, the same running, pounding and tearing. Her head hurt slightly with the blood that ran through it, her lungs ached like they were about to crinkle up and die.

Finally, she got to the blue light. Suddenly it was gone, as was the red lightly. She turned around, looking for where they had gone ,but ….there was nothing strange at all. She almost wanted there to be something strange but there wasn’t….that’s when she found again that there was no noise again….none that she could hear anyway. Her eyes traveled down slowly to take in her surroundings and she was no longer standing in the prairie that had come out of the forest but in white sand. That was when the feeling returned from her feet and the different temperatures shot up her legs, making her feel weak in the knees. These feelings also made her dizzy, her body not meant to feel too much at such a little time.

Sooner or later, she didn’t know when, she stood up, walked a little farther in and collapsed down again, it felt like the right place to be. This was when she remembered why she would be so dizzy, it was because she was thirsty. Mircan slipped off her pack and dug in it quickly, trying to find her bottle. A sloshing led her to it quickly after she heard it. The water, once it touched her lips, felt like the crispest, coldest thing she could ever hold in her hands. With all of the water rushing down her throat she coughed a little, dinking to much at once. With her butt firmly planted in the sand, she stopped spinning so much. This gave her a chance to look at her feet, the poor things red from blood coming out around the edges. She washed them off with a little water and dried them with a shirt. “Mmm….What the hell was that….” She looked down at her shorts and shook her head. “I hope I get answers soon.”

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Droplets of water still dripped from the Belieet's great face, though he didn't seem to notice. His ears, which had been once pinned to his head, stood erect—trying to still the erratic vibrations coming from the beautiful blue beam colouring the sky. Such loud noises were complicating his echolocation, rendering him useless in any situation that would involve finding his way through the depths of the forest. Without his abilities, he was as good as lost. His ebony eyes blinked, and he glanced towards the two figures he'd suddenly forgotten about. The Akerlial's hand feathered over the pommel of his blade, resting there as if he posed some kind of danger. Phinneus nearly laughed; a small sound echoing against the chaffed sides of his throat, ending as quickly as it had begun. What was he going to do? Yes, a Belieet's clawed membranes were said to be the sharpest substance rivalling any of the best blacksmiths across the lands—sharper than the blades swinging at the Akerlial's hips—, though he doubted in his abilities to move as fluidly as he could on any given day. It pained him to even flap his leathery wings, so he kept them tucked miserably at his sides, thumbs interlocked to keep them in place.

Phinneus' tail moved idly behind him, swaying thoughtfully as he watched the flickering lights above them. With another sniff of his spade-shaped nose, he nodded his head in the Masked Belieet's direction. It wasn't that he shared any kinship with him, nor did he particularly respect him, but he felt the need to acknowledge that they were close to the same species. “He,” Phinneus corrected, scoffing sourly at the mans' lackadaisical attitude and offending ignorance. A curt nod confirmed that he was of the Belieet species—albeit of another subspecies, one that lacked any civilized culture—and shrugged his slender shoulders, motioning towards the phenomenon in the sky. It puzzled him. If the Akerlial was still thinking of attacking him, even killing him, Phinneus understood that it would be short work. What was the use of a dead Belieet? He wouldn't be carried far with his grandiose weight, and he was sure as hell that he wouldn't taste good. Were Akerlial's cannibals, or just mildly irritating tricksters? Again, he wasn't entirely sure. “There's only one way to find out what sort of phenomenon it is,” the Belieet lilted softly, rocking on his tired legs. “If only—... ah, the hell with it.”

Movement coming from the Akerlial tore his gaze away from the streaked sky, and as much as he wanted to doggedly storm through the woods in search of the source, he stood his ground. “And I am Phinneus, or Phin for short. Whichever pleases you,” He introduced, nodding his head. A wry grimaced stretched crookedly on his muzzle. “I would have guessed, though you look different compared to the other Akerlial' I've had the pleasure of meeting.” He swung his attention towards Farid's companion, the Masked Belieet, and bowed his head lightly, before straightening. “Nice to meet you—I guess, judging the circumstances, it wouldn't be odd to invite you two on an short adventure. Strength in numbers, isn't that what they say?” Another rich laugh crawled from his throat. “Or a journey to hell, whichever it is.”

As soon as Phinneus was about to say another thing—adding to his sarcastic pleasantries—a booming voice intruded on his fatigued thoughts. Perhaps his conscious? No, something more. Something that could control his aching appendages. And suddenly his smouldering eyes narrowed, outraged that these strangers had awoken him. Anger crawled under his skin; heat flushed his already burning body, all for what? Who were they? And this voice, it was telling him that they were no different than his own kin. The kin that had left him to die, left him to rot amidst the underbrush. “N... No, get away,” He suddenly croaked, shaking his head and barreling past them. Anything to get away, to quiet the shrieking voice that told him... no, demanded him to go. Go where? It didn't matter. Branches slapped at his face, cutting beneath his fur. He couldn't even fathom how he was running. Something was pulling him. And there it was, cutting into the clearing he finally stopped. As if he were an object made from cogs and wheels and power, the energy left him and he fell onto his knees. A feeling of serenity mingled with pure, unadulterated power crept into the recesses of his mind. The blue light reflected in the pits of his black eyes, and for a moment, he knew.

I, I was made for you.