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    (EXAM) Death In The Cathedral

    Oberon
    Oberon

    Player 
    Lineage : Spirit Walker
    Position : None
    Posts : 186
    Guild : Dies Irae
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 726,963

    Character Sheet
    First Magic: Commander of Helios
    Second Magic: Warrior of Helios (Light Demon Slayer)
    Third Magic:

    (EXAM) Death In The Cathedral Empty (EXAM) Death In The Cathedral

    Post by Oberon Thu Nov 19 2020, 22:27

    Talonia was not the type of place that Arthur found himself comfortable in. It felt like the city itself was hostile, creating with the intent of never giving people peace of mind. Part of his body felt on edge, almost like he was being watched in a primal kind of way. It was like he was constantly expecting someone to jump out at him and try to rob him. it's not like he was really worried about that given his magical proficiency, but it still seemed like a rather good idea to avoid getting mugged. Arthur wasn't really sure about this city nor its cultures and societal norms. It didn't seem to bad, aside from this area of course. In this part of town, everything was just a little seedy in a lot of big ways. Passerbys leered at him as he cleaved through the crowd, obviously sensing his status as a mage. It must have been one of those towns, then, because it would not be the only time he had interacted with people who just in general despised his existence. Even though these people were probably prejudiced against him from a multitude of reasons, it never made him reconsider his decision to venture on horseback to Talonia in order to save a group of people in need. The people of this town needed him, needed the help that he would give them in order to stop the festering den of necromancers. The thought made him sick, of what they could be doing and congregating in a church. He didn't even want to think about what might have happened to the actual people and religious figures residing within it. His briefing included nothing of that nature, nor what religion the church stood to have once served. All Arthur knew, though, was that everyone in the city was in danger if a group of necromancers were deciding to just openly congregate in a one-sacred ground. His mind scoured itself and its contents in order to come up with a logical explanation for the actions of the dark mages. Turning up blank, the paladin frowned as he turned a cobblestoned street corner. The city of Talonia was large and sprawling, multiple buildings reaching far up into the sky almost as if to touch the clouds. It was pretty daunting, as the location was a mix of modern building alongside obviously dated residential buildings and otherwise vintage-looking houses. Wraught-iron fences lined the sidewalks, alongside the classic green and red rose bushes and patches of wildflowers strewn about at random.

    Now that he had left the sketchier part of the city, the beautiful wealthy side was starting to show. It wasn't that Arthur was particularly classist, but he couldn't just ignore the obvious care that was put into keeping this part of the city tidy. But that cleanly neatness of the city's natural beauty only got so far. Within a few blocks that Arthur had travelled, what was once the city's beauty quickly decayed as she shrubs died and garbage littered the streets. Within a few blocks, Arthur almost found himself within a ghost town of sorts. There was nobody on the side walk, no sound of people chatting, nor even wild animals. It was like everything had just died, grass browning and trees bare of any leaves. And it was silent too, like this part of the city was trapped in a glass bowl that prevented noise from entering or leaving. It was eerily quiet, and that anxious feeling dispersed throughout Talonia's suburbs was even stronger in this part of the block. These things were probably connected, Arthur thought as he cast his armor over his body with requip. Gripping the hilt of Dawn's Edge in his hand, the paladin flared his magic out to sense any abominations. And there were so many, so many of the wretched things within the confines of the church in front of him. He could feel them squirming about in their filth and their blasphemous existences, spreading their miasma as it concentrated in the church as a den. It was wrong, it was all wrong to desecrate a sanctum to such a degree. Arthur had to stop what he felt transpiring from a distance. He could sense their unholy beings from this far, see the dark magic outlining them through the Aether. It was clear, then, what the necromancers were doing. Arthur could feel their filth culminating and spreading out into the surrounding village. Their goal was to spread darkness, and he had the power to spread light. Naturally, he was the one to deal with this problem. They would need to be disposed of quickly. Casting a ward of divine protection over his form, Arthur sent a prayer to the sun as he turned the corner to approach the monolithic basilica. Letting the magic of Helios course through him, the wild release of mana into his body culminated in his wings taking form as his eyes glowed a brilliant golden. Almost as if on fire with golden embers, both the whites, iris, and pupils of his eyes had changed to a luminous golden. The den of death stirred in his approaching presence, the creatures could feel his cleansing light and shriveled away from the church's walls. Arthur would show no mercy to the undead souls. These necromancers had literally drawn the life from the surrounding city, driving people from their homes and every day life in what would probably amount to an endless pursuit of power.

    This wouldn't do, not on his watch would he let that happen. The spires of the church towered above him, almost looming with how his magic violently reacted with the presence of what the corrupted sanctuary held. Walking towards the door was like wading through a thick swampy miasma, as if the air itself was resisting him with some sort of passive warding field. Whether or not it was purposeful, or just a consequence of what the cathedral held, Arthur had to flare his magic in order to cut through the sickening smog of death and decay. Walking up to the stone-carved wooden doors, Arthur raised his armored foot before kicking at the wood with his boot. Metal clanking upon impact, the wood instantly splintered into chips as the door swung upon on its hinges. And in that moment, all of the wretchedness inside the church visible spilled out into the city square in a dark gloomy inky black. Arthur could feel the evil trickling across his skin, tickling and tantalizing at all of his pores with how wrong it really was. It was like the darkness knew what Arthur was here to do, and was almost welcoming him in the way of an old lover.

    No, Arthur thought as he guarded himself with a burst of magic. He wouldn't let the darkness seep into his soul. Not today, he couldn't let the evil taint his soul. But the way in formed around  him, latched onto parts of him and his mind, made him feel as if that evil was already there, buried deep within and ready to be let out. Arthur could feel the golden light fading from his eyes, but a deep rumbling voice echoed into his mind and roused him from the magic-induced trance. No! He's lying, do not accept the darkness of night. It was sudden enough to rouse Arthur from what had overtaken him. Suddenly realizing what was happening, Arthur warded the magic that was trying to take over his mind. It was a type of hypnosis or suggestion charm, it could bypass most defenses as long as one was not aware they were under a trance. But that voice, Arthur had never heard it before, and the way it rumbled was almost ancient in the most terrifying type of way. The voice's power was indescribable, and yet it had saved him by making him aware of the darkness' advancement into his mind. Arthur was shaking, he had almost been  taken over by the darkness gathering in front of him. Slashing at the solidifying form, Arthur's burning blade slashed through nothing as the elemental simply reformed around his blade. Shaking it off, the darkness cackled as it retreated back further into the cathedral. It wasn't retreating out of injury, it seemed, as its undead aura was no worse for ware than it had been before. Was it simply taunting him further, taunting him because it had almost won before the fight even started? Anger fueled his blood as the golden flames in his eyes spread to the side of his face and trailed off in enflamed fury. Arthur threw his sword to the side as he doused both of his fists in sunlight. Casting a reflection to his left, Arthur smote the groaning zombies that were just barely beginning to come alive. Smoking in their place, the dozens of undead groaned in the rows of pews and cabinets. The actual interrior of the cathedral was a mess, blankets strewn about as cabinets and furniture were placed around as if it was some type of den. The old wooden pews of the church remained, but were damaged and moved around, disorganizing what once held order and meaning.

    Arthur couldn't see to the back of the church, but the dark aura from beyond it made him grateful for the temporary blockage. He didn't need to see what was at the back of the church right yet, les it completely despirit him from the current fight in front of him. A loud shrieking whale descending upon Arthur as the bony apparition of a flying woman dove towards him. Noticeably the wraith was missing half of her body as whispy ghost energy dripped from her body. Gross, Arthur though, as he cast an angel ray that pierced her body and sent her shrieking as a bright flash illuminated the dark corners of the room. And with that bright flash of light, more wraiths unfurled from the ceiling as if he had just woken up a cave of bats hanging from the ceiling in their sleep. It was unpure, unholy, and wretched, to see wraiths hanging from the artistically painted ceilings of this grand building. Casting more bolts of holy magic into the resting flock of wraiths, they screamed in terror as their souls suddenly found themselves liberated from their torturing prisons. Ash descended upon the stone tiled floor of the church as the undead flying flock were purged from existence. Arthur prayed that their souls would find eternal peace in the afterlife, nobody should have to suffer such a fate as to be bound to an unpure body and have every moment agonize them in their confused hatred of all things living- what they could never be again. Anybody who could do that to a living soul was evil in the purest of forms, there was no redemption for somebody like that. Blinking away from a shadow sword that was suddenly stabbed towards him, Arthur reappeared in a shower of light near a stained glass window. At least the art was still somewhat intact, none of the pane glass was broken or chipped in any way. Arthur could hear a loud chorus of groaning as a wave of zombies poured out of the church's backroom doors. Arthur could hear the dark elemental laughing manically as it seemingly directed the hoard of undead with a sway of its shadow claws. It was no matter though, as they all fell with the death-seeking ray of purifying light. It was satisfying to watch his magic bounce from target to target as smoke raised from the now-dead zombies. Another quick prayer for their lost souls, but his prayer had nothing to use as a vessel towards the heaven, as no light managed to breach this cathedral's current miasma of darkness. But Arthur still felt that resonating thrumm with Helios, he could feel the god's presence within him, guiding both his magic and his might. A shocked gasp escaped Arthur's lips as he watched the shadow elemental simply resurrect the corpses he had just put down. With pure rage, Arthur blinked up towards the shadow elemental who simply enveloped the paladin in his enflamed fury.

    It was darkness, only darkness. Arthur was trapped in some sort of ebony skyscape. But there was light now, stars in the sky shining down upon the eternal night. Coughing slightly, the paladin's armor was missing as he found himself in regular clothes upon some sort of sandy terrain. Looking down at the ground, he ran his fingers through the sand to find that it was dry and flaky instead of granular, smooshing together like clay when he pressured the substances. It was not sand, it was ash, ash that had been compacted into a riverbank alongside a river of flowing ink. It almost joined the sky in color where there was no bank of light-grey ash to separate them as clearly. This place was lonely, lonelier than he could ever make out into worlds. It was as if he was dimensions away from everyone he loved, but close enough as if capable of seeing them through glass. And he did see them through the glass, as his entire family stood across from him on the other side of the black river. They were emotionless, unwavering as neither of them made any attempt to communicate or wave. Arthur's brow furrowed, why weren't they waving to him or even saying hi? It had been so long since he'd seen little tom, and even long since he'd seen his mother or father. Heartbreak stung at his chest as the paladin's family ignored his excited waving. Could they not see him, was the darkness of this strange place blocking him from sight? That had to be it, there was no way they'd just ignore him like that. But he could believe it, Arthur thought as he found himself approaching the river's edge. He was lonely now, it was obvious, his family barely acknowledged him unless to collect a check. It was like his soul yearned for their contact, their embrace, was only met with empty air. It was like his stomach yearned for food, but only received clay in return. Sure, it satiated temporarily, but only returned cramps and no actual nutritional benefit. It was like Arthur was suddenly an addict to social interaction, and he was now suffering from withdrawal. It was like he could feel his own soul drifting away as he neared the edge of the black river. Arthur's boot was about to step foot into the river before a golden light caught his eye among the darkness. The golden glimmering light distracted him from the dark welcoming river, the river that wanted to eagerly swallow him whole. The shimmering golden light flooded Arthur in a warmth that made him temporarily forget about his total loneliness. Naturally, he followed the light away from the river's edge. Away from its sway, Arthur's personality began returning as he gripped the ground beneath him in terror. Ash crumbled between his fingers as he clawed at the dirt in fear. He had no clue where he was, what he was doing, or what had happened. Glancing up at the light, the light told him plainly. You're not dead, but you're very close to it. Look up at the skyline and tell me what you see among the stars. With the golden flame surging through his eyes and protecting them, Arthur was able to see through what had once been a constellation, and now appeared before him as a titanic humanoid resting upon a throne.

    With ashy grey-skin and black horns jutting out from each side of its head, Arthur looked into its eyes and saw the pain and suffering of millions of damned souls. The large amorpheous person on the horizon opened his mouth to release a bellowing laugh. Taunts of weakness and his general meaningless echoed into his mind from a source not of his own god. It was condescending and yet comforting at the same time, practically begging for him to just give in and listen to whatever it was the figure on the horizon actually had to say. But the light was distracting him again from the desire, speaking plainly into his mind in that all-too familiar voice. I know you can't recognize me in here, it's soo hard in his domain. I don't know why he has to trifle with my champions to such a degree. Brothers fight, I know, but he shouldn't be as entertained by this as he seems. Come now, gather yourself and follow me. My brother just wanted to see you, that's all, but it's not your time yet, you don't belong here, and I don't think you ever will.

    Arthur's mind was stripped bare from his mere presence in the astral plane. He could feel his body and soul withering away as the gold shimmering light guided him away from the dunes and out beyond of the darkness. Light encompassed his form as the warrior suddenly found himself laying within grassy planes speckled with flowers and sunlight. A golden liquid was being poured into his mouth by someone who on first glance looked rather attractive. They looked at him soothingly, almost as if fascinated by his mere presence. Arthur reached out to touch them, but found himself falling back into darkness as he made a mad grasp for the hand of their saviour. Finding nothing to grip, Arthur woke up in the corner of the cathedral. Finding new vigor as he overcame his triumph, the paladin erupted in a blast of golden light as his magic overtook everything in his surroundings. Erupting in the sun's purifying blaze, the darkness was purged from the church as Arthur's sword materialized in his hand and tore through reality, letting pure sunlight of the astral plan vanquish the dark elemental from the ceiling of the church alongside all of the other hidden and enrobed onlookers. In an instant, the chorus of death-speakers were smote from existence in a flash of ash and light.  A limp man fell from the vaulted ceilings, tumbling down as he was no longer possessed by the elemental darkness. Arthur caught the man before he struck the ground. "What happened?" The man groaned out. Chuckling somewhat, the paladin responded.

    "I have no sweet clue, my friend."

    WC: 3073


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    Oberon Sutharlan | Vault | Golden Lacrima - EXP2021/11/10 | #FBCCD3 | Faerie Legacy

      Current date/time is Fri Jun 18 2021, 11:05