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Arden Maximoff

A Sorcerer unbound by time and space for all things are uncertain in the Multiverse. Yet with little in the way of time does this Sorcerer have when it comes to finding answers.

0 · 922 views · located in Aevihus

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Marcus

Description

Image

Arden Sil Maximoff
Low Lord of the City


PHYSICALITY

Summery: What kind of man lives in a world were there are little to no consequences and all one can do is think about themselves? Truly does man even deserve the pity that was brought upon it by those who sit much higher than him or even by those who are further down the chain? These are simple truths one must keep in mind when it comes down to the art of magic and the essence from which it comes. Many can claim to have a connection to such a force and there are even those who believe that the arcane itself is nothing more than natures fluke trying to catch up with itself. I on the other hand disagree and propose that for the truest of practitioners the arcane is a mystery of the blood that should be studied and made viable to all who wish to wield its awe inspiring powers. Lest of all my employers will have you believe. Mars Corporation is a rather fickle thing when it comes down to it.


General Info
Hair: Short and wild black hair.
Facial Hair: None.
Eyes: My eyes are deep blue.
Build: Thin and lightly sculpted.
Height: 6 feet on the dot.
Weight: 149 pounds.
Body Markings: Upon the back of my left hand is a mark left by the Shadow Lord Shabot-Urn.

Name I am Arden Sil Maximoff.
Nickname I have none to my knowledge.
Title The Low Lord.
Race Human.
Visual Age I am 21 years of age.
Factual Age In truth I am actually 24.
Gender I am clearly male.
Sexual Orientation Many noble lords and ladies have there own little quirks about them. I just so happen to enjoy both parties just as equally and the festivities that normally occur afterwords.
Class Sorcerer
Specialization: A party favorite of mine I suppose. Illusions are a rather illuminated art to master.


MENTALITY

Personality: Would you believe that in all the time I served any masters before me or as of right now that there is still a certain degree of respect I have for others? Truly I am the man who would hold the door so that you may tread on by in desperation to reach your final goal only to wait for my orders to remove you from this pitiful existence, mind you I will be polite about it. There are certain rules and precautions I think one should follow in order to be successful in what they do. From what I can say about myself though it would be that though I am born of a superior upbringing I do appreciate all the little things that most would neglect. While others might not think much of their subordinates or while some think little more of them as slaves or tools I would like to think that they are still people and deserve the utmost respect if I am able to get them to do as I wish. It is these subtle manipulations that I find myself enjoying the most as if it is a guilty pleasure I keep secret and hidden away from the world.
Quirks Though I carry a rather luxurious silver pocket watch I am afraid that the time piece itself is not in working condition. I understand that when I pull it out to look at the time it always remains at 4:00 in the afternoon and I do not have the heart to get it repaired as I see nothing that is truly broken but altered.
Moral Alignment For those who do not yet understand me I only blame the complexities of society and the strains that it has put upon on moral understanding of the human psyche and its destruction of the modern world itself. Pondering for countless hours as to were I stand is another thing entirely but I assure you if anything the quote I might adhere to the most would be, "Good, Bad, I am the man with the gun." I do not wish to place myself on either side of any line as it would not define who I am but as to what I would become. A hero of truth and justice or a monster of deceit and death. No to put it quiet simply I think of myself as the middle ground.
Goal Besides spreading the understanding of that which is arcane in nature and increasing my own personal power by that of knowledge or wealth.



ARMAMENT

Head Though one would imagine that many practitioners wear silly wizard caps that come to a point I am not so crass as to neglect the styles of my brothers and sisters of my home. No instead the top hat which I wear upon my head actually houses two specific arcane manifestations of powers depending on which way I bring my fingers across the brim. If I move my pointer and thumb across the brim of my hat from left to right I have within a rather spacious portable hole that connects through a small network of portals to many small trinkets I have collected and tossed within over the ages. If I am to bring my pointer and thumb from right to left I am able to connect to my home directly so that I am grab something personal if I have so forgotten it on my way out. A rather useful trick if I do say so myself.
Neck This old pendent? A family heirloom from a long forgotten past that I have yet to discover. From what I could trace back in my family line there was a duel between a relative of mine, a Mina Hoarcrux, a woman who has been lost to history and a rather powerful wizard who called himself Bigsby. Needless to say Mina won and in return she was awarded with a stone that sparkled in the light of day and felt warm to the touch. The enchantment that was placed upon the stone was one of elemental protection and seems to only work when whoever uses it calls upon a specific brand of protection. The only downside to it that I can find is that though it does protect against specific elements it does seem to make its owner weak against others for a time.
Chest To put it quiet simply I am wearing what many lords and ladies at the academies of arcana call the Regalia of the Archmage. Truly a marvel as it when I first came upon it was a rather gaudy mess of jewels and colors but upon wearing the outfit it conformed to my styles and I felt the serge of energies that it provided. Besides allowing me to cast an array of rather useful spells I have noticed that my spellcasting seems to be easier and almost silent while I wear the regalia. On another note it seems that the inside material has many wand and scepter loops that seem to conform to my body allowing me to hide a rather exquisite arsenal of wands and potions if needed.
Hands One will notice that a gentleman like myself has rather unique tastes and the two rings that I wear on my left hand will radiate with arcane magic like the rest of my attire if someone is honestly looking for it. The ring that sits upon my middle finger is a silver band with a rather unique diamond that is called a moaning diamond, rightfully named such as it does moan and groan, but it is not in pain nor does it contain any souls as it mimics the sound of earth and stone being forcefully shaped by the arcane. In essence the moaning diamond allows me to alter and change stone of any kind or just dirt alone and shape or move it to my hearts desire for hours on end before it must rest and recharge itself. The other ring which I wear sits upon my ring finger and is most dear to me as it is a black band and weighs heavy upon the hearts of men and mer who would it. In itself it is a spell storing device which allows me to harness the powers of spells I have cast or those of others and store it to use at a later time be it upon my foes or friends.
Right Accessory A man is nothing without the company of his walking cane, a icon of status in some places I assure you, and without this particular item I could recount many terrible times without. This however is no ordinary gentleman's cane as it is also the symbol of my status in my practice. It is in essence my staff, equivalent to most wizards I suppose, and it allows me to focus my casting of spells. The small orb that sits atop of my cane allows me to contact the many lords who I have made binding contracts with so that in case something is a bit to much for me I can simply step out to the back and let my summons take care of the situation.
Left Accessory If I am without a cigarette in hand then I am nothing especially considering I have a rather nasty addiction to substances that have a snippet of magic backing their potency. I keep a silver housing box for my little addiction inside my regalia in a small pocket that sits over my heart.
Waist Sitting upon my hip is a small spell component bag that I had personally commissioned. It houses all the odds and ends I need for more specific spells that require material components instead of the push of energies.
Legs Just a simple pair of trousers that I find compliment the entire ensemble.
Feet Yes I know they do not look like much but I assure you that these shoes are the real deal when it comes to quickly striding across great distances in class. The Shoes of Thunder-stride are wrongly named as they do not emit a thunderous sound when one simply goes out and about for a walk but actually give the owner the appearance of a lightning bolt when he needs to hurry to a specific location. Almost like the gods themselves were to move about in a rather silly fashion allowing everyone to see them in all their glory.


BACKGROUND

Group Affiliation


Faction Factions? None besides the pacts I have made and I would hardly call them such a thing. Just polite is all.

Marital Status Single.

Relatives None.

Origin High Born.

Social Rank Noble.

Occupation Teacher.

Blood Pact Shadow Lord Shabot-Urn. The Elder Elemental Akanatur.

Bio/History
So begins the story that I find myself recanting for time and time again as many people after they hear this either know to much and in the end try to kill me or they find themselves dull by the end of the experience, neither of which I wish for any man. No instead I think I will just recount the days of my youth leading up to this after both my Mother and Father were killed in a fire that destroyed my home and left me without a single coin to my name. I was a fairly innocent child at the time of the tragedy and was taken in by the family eccentric who later sold me off to some pimp when his own fortune was running low. I served in a bordello that doubled as a boarding house from time to time so that the authorities at the time would be none the wiser. I was cast out in the world due to the fire at age 9 and grew into a world filled with whores and disease by age 12. Though my years of staying under that roof taught me many things about the secrets of men and women I always found that my eyes tended to wander from place to place until I matured enough to realize that I was gifted with the abilities of sorcery. It was roughly around seven years later when I had acquired enough money I left the boarding house to make my own dreams and riches and used every last coin to study my abilities and grow stronger. Age 24 I began my own business and started to amass enough coin to buy out every housing district that my world had to offer and here I am now.

So begins...

Arden Maximoff's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: SOLCOM Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: Elisha Whitcomb
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#, as written by Gasmask
A figure fumbled his way though the fighting, muttering to himself, looking to the skies with his crimson mask. Some of the undead had gotten in his way, the preacher's mouth formed a thin line and swung his electrified mace though the stinking creatures, booting others that had dodged him, treating them like a game of brutal hacky-sack.

One of the zombies grappled with him as he ran up a fire escape, it wrestled for his throat, settling for his a chunk of his lip and a spray of viscous red blood splattered the railing, Vicar screamed with fury and seized the thing by the ears and swung its head against the railing, slamming it repeatedly until the very foundations of the fire escape started to rattle dangerously.

The blood didn't stop the trail of words. "And come the fall of blessed sun." Vicar stormed up the fire escape, seeing his savior fighting with the vampire, he'd never have that kind of power, he was but a man. Vicar brought up his wrist to wipe the blood and spit off his torn face.

"They raved across the night." Vicar brought up his pace, skidding across the roof, ignoring the stinging pain in his face and pushing a battery into his mace and then took a blind leap of faith. "To torment, murder, steal, corrupt." The priest went flying down the gap, bringing his hand up to catch the edge of the roof haul himself up.

The preacher spat onto stony roof, seeing this attempt on his saviors life and charged forward with the zeal of a man with nothing left to lose, bringing his electrified mace in a crackling arc to smash the vampire lord's face in, confident in the Paragon's ability to avoid harm.

Vicar had no words, but to scream his rage. The violent priest wasn't going to survive this night anyway, that bite would ruin him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: SOLCOM Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: Elisha Whitcomb
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#, as written by Gasmask
A figure fumbled his way though the fighting, muttering to himself, looking to the skies with his crimson mask. Some of the undead had gotten in his way, the preacher's mouth formed a thin line and swung his electrified mace though the stinking creatures, booting others that had dodged him, treating them like a game of brutal hacky-sack.

One of the zombies grappled with him as he ran up a fire escape, it wrestled for his throat, settling for his a chunk of his lip and a spray of viscous red blood splattered the railing, Vicar screamed with fury and seized the thing by the ears and swung its head against the railing, slamming it repeatedly until the very foundations of the fire escape started to rattle dangerously.

The blood didn't stop the trail of words. "And come the fall of blessed sun." Vicar stormed up the fire escape, seeing his savior fighting with the vampire, he'd never have that kind of power, he was but a man. Vicar brought up his wrist to wipe the blood and spit off his torn face.

"They raved across the night." Vicar brought up his pace, skidding across the roof, ignoring the stinging pain in his face and pushing a battery into his mace and then took a blind leap of faith. "To torment, murder, steal, corrupt." The priest went flying down the gap, bringing his hand up to catch the edge of the roof haul himself up.

The preacher spat onto stony roof, seeing this attempt on his saviors life and charged forward with the zeal of a man with nothing left to lose, bringing his electrified mace in a crackling arc to smash the vampire lord's face in, confident in the Paragon's ability to avoid harm.

Vicar had no words, but to scream his rage. The violent priest wasn't going to survive this night anyway, that bite would ruin him.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: SOLCOM Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: Elisha Whitcomb
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#, as written by Nemo
Just when it seemed Vladimar would decapitate Paragon before the fighting had even begun, the cloaked warrior swung his sword over his head, parrying the attack before it could reach his neck. Glaring white met black sanguine as the two blades collided.

Side-stepping gracefully, Paragon threw the Blood King's sword off his own with a light thrust at the hilt, weaving beneath the blade's edge and delivering a series of quick but accurate slices at the vampire's frame, mostly concentrated around his arms and legs. Curiously, Paragon seemed to be avoiding Vladimar's more vital areas. He seemed more intent on crippling the vampire than he did kill him.

His movements were fluid and wispy, like the shadow of an insect flitting nimbly from point to point. He never stood still enough to match Vladimar muscle-for-muscle, but seemed content to adopt a 'parry and evade' tactic. That said, he was quick. Very quick. As agile and dexterous as any skilled swordsman could be. His feet made strange patterns across the forming pentagram, moving between the triangular shapes with terrifying grace. The toes of his boots scraped between the folds of the red star...

---

Back on the ground, the NPA (and hopefully, the other allies) were taking advantage of the mysterious angel's brief stem of the tide. Enforcers scrambled to get the remaining civilians to safety, finish off the stragglers that still remained and re-fortify their position.

"Drop team, put the packages on target!" a sergeant roared, "energize those mids!"

A small squad of Paladin Fighters roared over the city, a dozen circular pods ejecting from their undersides and smashing into the asphalt below. They made a circular perimeter around the hell portal and lay still and quiet for a few moments... before flaring up in a wave of vibrant green. All at once, a plasma shield flared up around the conflict center, re-enforcing the Svalinn with another layer of protection. When Mikha'el's holy barrier fell, the plasma shield would incinerate whatever the Svalinn couldn't keep back.

"All allies, stay away from the green," the sergeant spoke into the comm, "we've got hot plasma contact. Quarantine is in effect."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane
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Vladimar's blade lashed at Paragon like a viper filled with uncanny agility and rage. He glanced to the side as Vicar's mace collided with his cheek. Bone splintered and blood poured from his mutilated eye. The vampire king retained his footing and assaulted Paragon with countless slashes and thrusts. Paragon's blows met their mark unanimously if not scathed the unholy knight's armor. Blood dripped from numerous gashes across Vladimar's body as the abominable legion flowed from the hellish darkness beneath his tattered cloak.

"Heh heh hah..." Vladimar snickered as he slid to the opposite side of the roof. He supported his massive frame with the girth of his blade. The vampire king looked up at the three figures before him. An eerie crimson glow resonated from his smashed hollow eye socket. "Heh heh hah... hehehehehah... HAHAHAHAHAHAH! Yes... Now things are getting a bit more fun."

Vladimar straightened himself to his full height, towering over the average man. Bones reshaped and snapped into place as senew and muscle tissue regenerated. New flesh filled in the deep wounds left by Paragon's blade. Skin stretched and smoothed over the healed wounds like a fresh coat of paint.

"You're fast... I'll give you that." he said as he glanced down to the battle field. "It appears the dogs have gotten some help... No matter. They have seen but a fraction of the armies at my command!"

"Ego vocare te..." his voice thundered across the winds. "... legiones inferni! Audient vocern Vladimar!"

His cloak snapped into the air as if cast by a violent gale. The tides of darkness that flowed from it intensified tenfold like a broken flood gate. As the Boiling Phlegethon channeled through the vampire king, so did the countless souls that were bound to his will. They spilled out by the thousands, flooding the streets, sidewalks, and lower floors of the buildings beneath them. The terror and chaos that drenched the city seemed to only fuel the unholy tide.

"Principatus noche bestia!" he cried as he stretched out his gauntlet towards the regrouping army. A low rumble resonated from below the streets. The manholes flipped. Rats swarmed from the nether regions of the city and casted confusions between the feet of the soldiers. Seconds passed before the air and ground filled with all manner of vile creatures - cockroaches, flies, bats, crickets, spiders, and scorpions.

Vladimar finally returned his attention to Paragon and his cultist. "Now..." the vampire king smirked as he gripped his runeblade in both hands. "Let us see how fast you are..."

He charged with a strike of crimson lightning as he brought his blade down with a wicked slash. Vladimar vanished again, reappearing on the opposite side of the roof, before charging again. This motion continued. Faster and faster. Charge. Slash. Evade. Charge. His speed quickened. Was he in two places at once, or was that a trick of the eye?

As his brutal assault intensified, the hellish rune glowed with a dark red glimmer. It was nearly complete. The rune drank the blood offering greedily, but its hunger could not be sated. In order for the ritual to complete, it required the blood of something more... immortal.

-----

When Mikha'el's barrier shattered, the Archangel ripped through the air. He scooped up a fleeing family just before the plasma fell. His wings folded tightly to protect them from the liquid fire.

"Magen!" his voice rung with divine authority as he stretched out a hand towards a soldier pinned beneath a toppled car. A radiance surrounded the man, shielding him from all harm.

Mikha'el rose to his feet when the ordeal passed. The rescued family thanked him before resuming their flight. He scanned the battlefield with his eagle-like vision. Though the familiars were destroyed from the plasma, the chaotic energy remained. Then, as the renewed and greater wave flowed from the skyscraper, he took to the sky. The Archangel's wings unfolded like a battle standard as the grip around his sword tightened.

"Stand fast, Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve!" his voice boomed. "Stand fast and show no fear to this devil! Your fear will only weaken thyself and strengthen thy foe. Though we walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, we will fear no evil! Be as unto David slaying his tens of thousands in the name of righteousness! Feel neither fear nor weariness! For I, Mikha'el the Guardian, leader of the Archangels, bestow my blessing upon thee!"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane
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#, as written by Nemo
Paragon retreated, his weapon a blurring frenzy as he desperately attempted to parry Vladimar's superhuman flurry of strikes. For a few brief moments, his form held, white sword meeting black blade blow for blow. The moon warrior leaped gracefully across the rooftop, matching Vladimar's brutish speed with dexterous agility.

Of course, he couldn't last. The Blood King, empowered by the chaotic energies reaped from the souls of countless innocents, was far too quick. The first slash landed across his back, slicing through his cloak and a layer of the thick fiber-armor beneath. Paragon fought on, unphased, delivering two quick counter-attacks at Vladimar's shoulder and waist. He was following through for a back-handed swing across the vampire's torso when he felt a hot burning over his calves. By the gods, HOW had he attacked there? He'd been right in his line of sight the whole time. It was almost as if he were fighting two or three opponents at once.

Back stepping, Paragon traced a pattern with his foot and the end of the pentagram, stepping forward to once again face his opponent. He didn't even parry a single strike. Two slashes across his pectorals. One over his hamstring. A burning swathe of hellfire crawled over his shoulder and into his back, welting the skin beneath. He staggered briefly beneath the pain before rising to his feet... only to have the armor on his torso ripped open by a mighty downward slice.

Paragon stumbled backwards, growling as he hit the floor. His bare chest, bruised and wilted, was exposed to Vladimar's view. He lay on the ground, struggling to rise, breathing heavily. His body was conveniently positioned in the direct center of the pentagram.

---

The Enforcers, meanwhile, were fighting harder than ever. Spurred on by Mikha'el's example and beset on all sides with a host of allies, they struggle to contain the new wave of madness unleashed by the Blood King. The plasma shield did its work, incinerating the grunts before they even reached the streets and damaging the stronger champions as they pooled out, hot plasma scathing their bodies with every step. Flaring white barrages of purging ether met the offenders at every turn, bringing them down in scores. The newly-killed bodies of the dead filled the streets.

Evil had upped the ante, but so had the defenders.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane
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#, as written by Nemo

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane
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Zephaniel looked with happiness as he managed to secure the building below him. Though he nearly fell off the rooftop when sensed a familiar aura. He turned to see the Leader of the Archangels. He who is like God, Saint Mikha'el. He never suspected he would appear. Though he was not upset that he did. Surely Mikha'el will turn the battle into God's favor. He has always done so in times of great duress. He unleashed a powerful ward to keep the chaos at bay. Zephaniel had great confidence in him, though he worried he may spot him. It is not his job to assist in major battles like these. His duty is to strike down those who hide in shadows. To silently fight for God in the Dark.

He worried Mikha'el may be upset with him being out in the open like this. Technically he isn't to make himself known. It is crucial to have secrecy and the element of surprise in his work. Which is why he was allowed to roam the mortal plane at any time. In fact they highly recommend he spends little time in Heaven. Still, he could not ignore what is occurring here. Besides any demons that may have been here must have left. Or at the very least well hidden. With the amount of evil energy the Blood King is emitting, he would have no luck sensing a demon in all this mess.

It was then the ward broke and the situation grew worse. A new wave of evil has risen, and more spawns from the Boiling River. To call upon such wicked power, is to be like a Demon Lord. He then harkened the Archangel's call. Just like in the days of yore, Mikha'el's speeches always rallied the troops of both Heaven and Man alike. He was glad they were empowered and hopefully they will charge with invigorated strength. That they may smite this evil that has flooded on the mortal plane. He had not payed much attention, but upon the rooftop of where this started, he could see a few individuals upon there. For the most part they seemed to fight The Blood King head on. But appear to be losing. He worried for them, but the warriors seem very skilled. Though it seems The Blood King is greater. He saw the other forces containing and saving more lives. He considered entering the fray, but direct assaults are not his specialty. Though the circumstances as they are, may make it difficult to approach covertly. Perhaps Mikha'el will try his hand? For now Zephaniel lept off the rooftops and entered the streets once again.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane
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#, as written by Gasmask
Vicar wasn't as speedy as the two freakishly powerful gods, his arms struggling to scamper across the roofs, lashing out with his legs until he caught up with them. The priest looked upon his savior with despair upon his permanent scowl. If the Paragon died, so would he, a man with nothing to lose.

The missionary frowned underneath his helmet, checking his chest for the only counter to the absurd amount of power this creature had, a pair of frag grenades strapped to his vest. "Though you, I found purpose." Vicar screamed, spittle and blood splattering the concrete roof, waving his mace into the air and charged forward.

Vicar dropped his mace, throwing it to the ground with a loud clatter, finger glancing across the pin of one of the grenades, careful not to pull the pin as he swung himself forward to grab Alucard by the chin with one hand and deposit the now live grenade into his mouth.

There was no phrase to scream, no religion to preach, no psalm that fit this matyrdom.

"DIE, DIE, DIE."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane
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#, as written by Varden
The stranger standing upon the roof top and watching the fight ensue between Vladimar, Paragon, and Vicar had not budged until this moment. He had not spoke or acted in any hostile way to anyone upon the roof or on the ground. The only warning of his impending action was the cracking of the reinforced cement slab upon which they stood. His rear right foot pivoted and his weight shifted.

The sound of the chain held in his right hand, crystal wind chimes, beauty amid the slaughter. His steely eyes traced Paragon's form and each point of the pentagram before returning to the servant of the moon, Vladimar, and then Vicar as the mortal man attempted to grapple with the Blood King and shove a grenade down his throat.

-------------------------


Five interceptor drones were the first of the Varden units to arrive. Heavy rail-gun fire started to turn the mass of flesh, chaos and blood into exploded refuse and craters as each drone fired on its initial pass and spun away. The air vibrated as windows burst and teeth chattered in skulls, both living and dead with the power of each automatic burst. It sounded more like terrible chainsaws and less like weapons' fire.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane
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Vladimar laughed cruelly as Paragon collapsed in the center of the pentagram. He slammed his boot onto his chest while he stretched out his hand. The vampire king attempted to catch Vicar by the throat as he lunged. He would then slam the human onto the broken body of Paragon before attempting to thrust his blade through both of their bellies. His runeblade, Sangentis the Blood Drinker, pierced flesh, soul, and the focal point of the rune. Vladimar twisted the sword like a great key in the enchanted stone. A cage of chaotic lightning surrounded the Blood King as the pentagram resonated with a hellish glow. It burned like a crimson spotlight stretching into the sky, heralding an ill omen. Each of the impaled human sacrifices screamed and writhed in agony as the energies multiplied. The blood drained from their bodies and filled the crevices of the massive rune.

"Your blood shall open the gate..." he said. "and your life essence will be clay to be molded like steel in the furnace of Hell!"

----

Meanwhile, Mikha'el flew at the helm of the Terran guard. His sword shined like the sun as it cleaved through the summoned spirits and demons by the hundreds with the full wrath of Heaven. Darkness fled from the tongues of golden flame that ignited across the ground in his presence. He lashed out with divine fury as he defended the humans.

"Arise, shine," he cried above the battle field, "for your light has come, and the glory of Adonai has risen upon you! For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but Adonai will arise and His glory will be seen! Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened and do not be dismayed, for Adonai Elohim is with you wherever you go!"

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Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: Kristen Leon Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane
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#, as written by Nemo
Paragon groaned as he felt Vicar's body slam into his own. He smelled the musky scent of sweat mingled with flesh. Human flesh. A mortal man...

He saw the glaring red of the blade flash above them both; felt the hellish pulse of chaos resonate inside the unholy sword. In a few moments, it would impale them both, sending a shockwave of nefarious energy through both of their bodies. He might survive it. Perhaps. He had the tools, the medicine...

...but the man? No. Not a chance. He had no armor like his. No shields. No defensive mechanisms. Sangentis would tear through him with viscous glee and strip his very soul from his flesh... he would die in agony.. he would die undefended...

"NO!" he roared, mustering his strength and pouring the whole of his being into one last blurring movement. With incredible speed, Paragon would attempt to throw Vicar off of his body just as the blade was coming down. The sword would meet only one of its intended victims, slicing through Paragon's side and sticking him to the ground. Blood poured from the wound in rivers. Red blood. Warm blood.

And as Paragon lay beneath Vladimar's sword, bleeding, beaten and broken, he looked up at the vampire king from beneath the hem of his mask with mysterious intent. He might have been smiling.

"...now... you're mine..." he hushed, his fists clenching. Suddenly, the pentagram surrounding them began to glow; a soft lunar white above the glaring red of Vladimar's previous spell. Markings began to take shape around the triangles; strange shapes and symbols took form. The wilted rose. The evening star. The crescent moon.

Perhaps most interesting was the shape of the pentragram as a whole. Paragon had re-traced the entire spell circle in his fight with Vladimar, but he'd added another triangle to the end of the star. A hexegram. A summoning tool. A world-bridge. Paragon hadn't manipulated or stopped Vladimar's spell, but had simply built his own atop it, using the chaotic energies resonating from the roof as a foundation. Now the symbol glared with furious power, feeding off of Vladimar's darkness, empowering itself with the very sustenance of his own evil authority...

And then all at once, it activated. The spell finalized, the glowing energy spiraling around the four figures and trying to send them all away... attempting to whisk them to...

...someplace else...

The setting changes from Wing City to The Hidden Glen

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Character Portrait: Arden Maximoff Character Portrait: The Professor and Company
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#, as written by Marcus
The Crystal Skipper, a glass arcane airship, had dropped off its goods in the city along with a few stragglers who survived the onslaught of that rather strange vampire and all the other random evildoers. But this story was not about them or their renewed faith in living. It was about a rather out of place nobleman who appeared to be rather comfortable for he was resting under an apple tree with a pipe betwixt his lips and the smell of chocolate and maple filled the air. Truly it was a glorious day for the businessman and there was little in the way of distractions now.

The silence however would not be left alone for long as a older fellow who was short of stature and dressed in a simple robe approached Arden with a concerned look and a rather long sigh of displeasure. "Lord Maximoff, forgive me, I was wishing to know how much longer you planned on staying in this place? We do have other places we need to be. I know Lord Jorn would not be pleased if we kept him waiting for another day longer and I think that..." Arden Maximoff simply opened his eyes and raised his right hand to the man only to frown a bit while taking a couple of puffs from his pipe. "You know Alexander I think it would be best if you returned to the ship and checked up upon our stock of crystals. I have no doubt that Jorn will be displeased with me but then again I find the dwarves of those mountains to be a bit inhospitable to someone such as myself. Now let me enjoy this little rest will you." With that all said and done and a slight bow from the older man Arden was once again left alone in the Hidden Glenn enjoying his tobacco and his time away from the crew of the Crystal Skipper.

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Character Portrait: Arden Maximoff Character Portrait: The Professor and Company
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#, as written by Shpleem
El moved trough the forest with the grace and silence that only an elf could manage. She was hunting, short bow in hand as she moved through the grass, halting on the edge of the glen.

With a sigh of mild annoyance she spotted the man relaxing under the tree. There'd be no game to be found here. She was tempted to just leave, but maybe he would and she could continue hunting stealthily.

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Character Portrait: Arden Maximoff Character Portrait: The Professor and Company
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#, as written by Marcus
Arden continued to puff away at his pipe only to pull it from from his mouth and with the smoke he created several rings that floated up to the sky. The sorcerer had little to care about and even though he could not pick up on another in the Glen at the moment he was sure he was not alone. The nobleman reached over for a small package that was sitting next to his jacket only to open it and produce from it a small bottle of wine and a sandwich that was filled with an assortment of goodies. Arden was resting and there was nothing that would force him to move from his spot.

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Character Portrait: Arden Maximoff Character Portrait: The Professor and Company
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#, as written by Shpleem
El smirked to herself, at least she could get some target practice. The smoke rings were rather inviting targets. She pulled and arrow and drew back her short bow, firing the arrow through the ring with a grin.

The rush of air from the arrow passing through obliterated the smoke ring and she stepped out with a smile, folding her bow and holstering it at her back.

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Character Portrait: Arden Maximoff Character Portrait: The Professor and Company
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#, as written by Marcus
"An arrow?" The young noble muttered to himself as one of the smoke rings was decimated right before his very eyes. Arden slowly turned his attention to the elvish looking woman who stepped out of the lush with a smile and a rather unique looking bow she had holstered. "Well it seems like I will not need to defend myself this time. Might I have the honor of knowing your name?" The young noble simply smiled and set his meal to the side just to slowly stand up to get a better look at the newcomer.

She was most definitely not part of the crew he had hired and though it was not uncommon for elves to still call this part of the Multiverse home it was not an unwelcome sight to say the least.

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Character Portrait: Arden Maximoff Character Portrait: The Professor and Company
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#, as written by Shpleem
"El." she replied, "Just El." she added before he could ask for any further names. She didn't give it out to just anyone, she didn't really give it out at all. She wasn't proud of her mixed heritage, thankfully it didn't show on her really unless one looked closely at her eyes or got her to hold onto a gemstone long enough.

"And just who are you?" she asked then, crossing her arms over her front.

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Character Portrait: Arden Maximoff Character Portrait: The Professor and Company
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#, as written by Marcus
"El, a name is a name after all, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Arden quickly spoke only to continue to smile a bit as one of his crew members he had hired had stumbled over just to suddenly turn around as quickly as he came. "I am Arden, Arden Sil Maximoff, a businessman by trade and a rather wealthy one at that." The young noble simple began to rub his neck a bit only to turn his attention back to his things only to shrug a bit and laugh. "You know I was taking a bit of a rest from my travels. You see I own a rather unique airship and I figured some time off from my business might due me some good."

The setting changes from The Hidden Glen to Wing City

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Character Portrait: Terran Marine Command Character Portrait: Alucard Character Portrait: The National Police Agency Character Portrait: The Invictus Character Portrait: Arya Sloane Character Portrait: Dyew
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After the Blood King was whisked away, the forces of his corruption seemed to die off. With the source being uprooted, much of the chaos began to fade away. As if it was water going down a drain. The aftermath of that gruesome assault was apparent. Building ruined and the streets was littered with the corpses of those slain in battle. Still the efforts of the mortals managed to clean up this unsightly mess. It would seem for now, evil has been diverted.

He knew not where the fearsome Vladimar was spirited away too. But at this moment it's beyond his problems. He can only hope that maybe, the Blood King was defeated elsewhere. In the meantime, the city seemed to clear from it's demonic pollution. Zephaniel could now better sense evil forces on a much more individual level. Though the threat he sought to kill has fled the city during the Blood King's attack. For now Wing City is relatively safe, at least from demonic forces. Still there is much work to be done as the angelic assassin retreated into secrecy.

The setting changes from Wing City to Wing City Spaceport

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Character Portrait: Arden Maximoff Character Portrait: Sanuk Jaahd
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#, as written by Marcus
A new place but a not so different time with many opportunities and few errors, Arden Maximoff stared hard and long at the current paper before him. The young nobles eyes glances through the pages just to look up past the sprawling words at the newcomer before him. Her wear suggested wealth but the gems around her neck truly caught his interest and it was due to the possible properties that they might have carried.

"Excuse me miss." Arden spoke up a bit as he set aside his newspaper and began to dust himself off as he rose from his seat. He took up what appeared to be a rather exotic cane of coral and red stones that appeared to be rubies only to make his way over to her and offer a warm smile and bowed to her in a rather gentlemanly manner. "I'm Arden, Arden Maximoff, and I could not help but notice that you are sitting here alone in an area that not only requires you to have company but also begs the question as to what it is you are hoping to seek in such a place?" Arden smiled only to lean on his cane a bit just to then look down the other end of the space port only to realize how empty the place truly had become. "I could understand if one was here for business of some kind but you appearance is more regal than formal and is nothing but sensual when it comes down to looks."