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NPC; Zenith | The Unstoppable Fury

0 · 157 views · located in [Central Exodyus] The Mountain Valleys

a character in “Zenith Rising”, as played by forgotten



RP Type: Stat-based
RP Affiliation: Obsequious Zenith
Full Name: Viktus
Nickname: ---

Title: Berserker
Clan: None.
Faction: None.
Threat: Rank II

Age: 19
Date of Birth:
Astrological Sign:

Hair: Charcoal
Eyes: Crystalline Blue
Skin color: Peach
Height: 6' 4"


ImageHead: Twisted Scarf | AT +10str
ImageChest:Power Suit | AT +10str
ImageArms: Power Gloves| AT +5 (x2)str
ImageFeet:Battle Boots | MOVE +5spd

Weapons: None.
Items: Stick of Charcoal, Leatherbound Book of Parchment.

Viktus, fully released form.

Gone Berserk


Vicious. Merciless. Tactical.




Raised by a powerful sorcerer in the Kageroth mountains of Exodyus, Viktus was abused physically and sexually on a daily basis by his guardian Cottle. It was not until he discovered the power of the Zenith that he finally managed to escape his master's grasp. Travelling the world, Viktus sewed seeds of destruction and dissent against the Alliance wherever he went. As he traveled his power grew until he apruptly disappeared one day, leveling half a village in his wake. Earning him renown with the Alliance's enemies and a spot on the Alliance's most wanted list.

So begins...

Viktus's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Vyserys Character Portrait: Viktus
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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The sun’s radiance was beyond compare, it’s blinding light crested the mountaintop and shone down on the refinery, glistening against its metallic surface. It was like something out of the Archives—the refinery; a testament to man’s commitment to survival, his willingness to do any and everything to insure his place in history. He had been told as a youth that places such as this existed, designed to harvest the innate power of the land itself, but it was nothing like the terrifying place Vyserys had imagined. Perhaps it was just the foolishness of youth, but he had imagined a dark structure, piercing the heavens, threatening to consume the sky itself once it had taken it’s fill from the earth.

The refinery was nothing to turn his nose at, that was to be sure, but it was hardly the beacon of darkness and evil his imagination had conjured. No, this place—for all it’s history and myth-- was still manmade, held together by pillars of stone, beams of steel and rivets of iron.

It was the refinery that had alerted the Knights to the problem at hand. Nothing living had disturbed the place for well over twenty years—whatever wards, or devices barred entry had done it’s job, but that had all changed. They had received word that the refinery was not only inhabited, but that it was operational.

Vyserys was content with the work he’d been doing thus far, his last few jobs had earned him a nice little nest egg and there were a few whores at the Brass Buckler who managed to distract him on those few nights he couldn’t stand to be alone with himself. Still, the Knights asked him for his assistance…and they asked rather roughly and who was he to deny Guild and Country of his work?

The hum of exhaust fans filled the refinery drowning out his footsteps over the marble floor. The inside of the refinery was startlingly artistic, designed with aesthetics foremost in mind. If he could have drowned out the sound of the massive fans, Vyserys would have mistaken the entry way for a citadel or some sort.

Just what did they use this place for? He wondered.

It was not until he passed through the lavish entry way and through a set of arched double doors that he could notice the mechanical aspects of the refinery. The sound of his footsteps clunking against metal stair flights was more noticeable not that he was further from the fans and fell in a steady rhythm as he descended into the belly of the proverbial beast.

The weight of Dark Nation strapped to his leg served as a reminder of it’s presence and added some comfort to his growing feeling of unease. The stairs gave way to a large control room, a massive glowing pillar standing at it’s center. He didn’t need to touch it to know that there was a definite warmth emanating from it. It was as though he could feel it radiating within his very soul, pulsating within his core being like a festering wound.

It’s been…tainted…” he said, reaching out but not daring to touch it. Could the Knights and the Justicars have been correct? The Alliance had been rather hush-hush in regards to what he was hunting, specifically—they’d only specified that it was ancient and evil…and he would recognize it the instant he felt it. His hand moved closer and closer to the glowing crystal pillar his eyes darting this way and that uncontrollably.

A shock of white light overwhelmed him, a terrifying roar filled his skull and for the briefest moment he could see the gargantuan eye of some primordial beast. His palm flew to his own bag heavy socket and pressed tight against it. It took him several deep breaths and a long moment to regain his composure.

Further inspection of the room revealed a large left in the corner and a small control box to operate it. Walking over, Vyserys pressed a dark button on the panel. Long arms crossed Vysery’s midsection to grip hold of his ribs as the ancient machinery started with a long and agonizing groan. It came to a halt with a cacophonous click and it felt as though the entirety of the refinery shook in response. Several catwalks stretched towards the center of the massive room, all leading to a massive monolith. Sculpted from stone and steel the massive winged humanoid possessed features too finely shaped and flawless to be of this world.

“It’s god…” a voice said, from the base of the massive monument. Vysery’sgaze leveled upon the speaker. He was tall, a good six inches taller than Vyserys and quite broad. Long azure locks fell about his massive shoulders, when he spoke again his gaze did not leave the statue.

“Not a, not a guildmember…” the man said with some measure of contempt, “but the god.” He clarified. “The creator of all things, good and evil, natural and unnatural, familiar and alien.” A large hand bypassed the blade at the man’s hip and touched the stone. “This is what awaits us…those of us chosen…we are all but part of the true god…”

As the hulking figure spoke, Vyserys moved along the catwalk, his eyes trailing to the black pit below, noting that there was nothing present should he topple over a railing.

How deep had that lift taken him? Just where in all of Guild’s creation was he?

“This is where he hid it…” the figure spoke into the air, forcing Vyserys to question whether or not the man even knew of his presence. “This is where it all began…the rebirth at least…at the crater. The mountains grew from that…”

Once he placed his feet near the end of the catwalk and on the circular base of the statue, Vyserys drew Dark Nation from its holster and leveled it at the figure’s skull. “Uh….huh…” he said. “Real informative…” There was no doubt about it, the hulking man was what he had been sent here to collect. His energy, it felt foreign and familiar at the same time-- a face he couldn’t put a name too.

The man slowly turned to peer at Vyserys, only then did the gun toting maverick notice the scar upon the large man’s face. Whoever the figure was, he’d been through a great many battles, or a great many beatings.

The taller man’s head tilted and his eyes roamed over Vyserys. “You…feel…” nostrils flared as he sniffed,” familiar.” Brow furrowed in consternation, the large figure seemingly peered past the muzzle of Vysery’s gun, fixing his eyes on the hunter’s own. “But you are not one of us…” For a moment, the figure seemed to stare at nothing. “No, he is definitely not one of ours.”

Who are you talking to and what are you doing here?” Vyserys demanded.

“You’re right. He must be eliminated…”

That’s a funny one,” Vyserys smiled, nodding towards the weapon in his grip.

The figure moved.

Vyserys fired.

And all of hell broke loose.