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    Three Means, What End?

    Cillian duCrosse
    Cillian duCrosse

    Player 
    Lineage : Legend of the Lich
    Position : None
    Posts : 175
    Guild : Confidence Intl.
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 394,517

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Necrothurgy
    Second Skill:
    Third Skill:

    Three Means, What End? - Page 2 Empty Re: Three Means, What End?

    Post by Cillian duCrosse 15th May 2023, 6:40 pm

    Even though my life hasn't been all that great

      1130/7042 WORDS
     
    @Mythal Ragnos @Vandrad Ragnos @Serilda Sinclair
     
    THEME SONG
     
    I have seen war, famine; witnessed the genocide. Have seen the changes in human nature and history, and I am still here, standing alone. Til the end, I will be there too. To witness the endless carnage, to live this harsh reality. Cause I have been cursed, Cursed with immortality.
    Unsurprisingly, her gun wasn’t doing a whole lot of good against the bone creature. It was certainly damaging it and chipping pieces off, but that didn’t seem to deter the beast in the slightest. Unfortunately, the creature that held her focus wasn’t nearly as imposing at the one that was coming. Mercury kept her gaze forward, entrusting the other side of Cillian to Blade, and as such was not prepared in the least for the attack that was launched at her and Blade simultaneously…

    “What a lovely day for a walk..!”

    The forest was as lovely as ever. Trees towered overhead, their twisting trunks reaching up to the sky before exploding in a beautiful array of orange leaves. The beaten path was narrow but more than enough room for two people to walk side by side, with dark crimson grass poking up from the ground between the boulders and pebbles that lined either side of the road. The weather was almost perfect, just warm enough to not need a jacket with a slight breeze that lifted the scent of freshly bloomed flowers to her nostrils. It was Mercury’s favorite time of year on Xocil, and not just because of the weather.

    “I love few things more than having a summer birthday,” she breathed with a sigh. “It’s a shame dad and Khelben couldn’t come along… but I guess I won’t argue having a little girl time with my mother.”

    Mercury turned to look at Scylla who was walking beside her at a steady pace, giving the older woman a grin, neither of them in a hurry to do anything but enjoy their stroll through the forest. Her mother chuckled. “You know how they are; it’s difficult to pull either of them away from work. I’m sure they’ll find time to spend with you later today. In the meantime, it looks like you’re all mine…!” Scylla reached an arm around Mercury’s shoulders and pulled her over for a side armed hug. The younger Xocili sighed with contentment and rested her head against her mother’s shoulder.

    W̷̨͓̪̙̑̊̕h̶̻̾͗ͅe̴̢̧̡̛̍͊̚ř̸̰̟̯̏e̶̺͍͒ ̵̼̙͊̈́̏̿a̴̠͓͊r̶͎̈́̒́͒̚e̵̝͚̳̍̍͜ ̴̨͓͐̑̚y̷̡͉͕̩̙͐̂o̷̱͆̀̉͝ů̷͎̝̊̒.̵̭̞̈́̈́́͘͝.̵̛̯̥̆̎̅ͅ?̸̢̱͈̓

    She stopped in her tracks with a frown, lifting up her head and looking around. Scylla paused in her gait as well. “Is something the matter?”

    “Did you hear that?”

    “Hear what?”

    Mercury continued to listen for the strange whispering sound, but it did not repeat itself. Finally, she shrugged. “Must have just been the wind.” The two women carried on, and soon she picked up on her internal sensors that there were two figures up ahead of them in the clearing just beyond the trees. When they emerged from the foliage, Mercury’s eyes lit in surprise. There, waiting on a large blanket, sat Zemenar and Khelben with the makings of a picnic around them. She quickly cast a playful stinkeye at her mother. “You tricked me..!”

    “Only a little.”

    Mercury laughed even as her father and brother stood to their feet, greeting both women warmly and wishing Mercury a happy birthday. As both men explained, they had taken the day off of work to surprise her with a family brunch for her special day.

    C̷̨̱͉̟̑͜ö̸̖̟͇͍̫́̋̈̋̈ṁ̴̖̲͓̒̚è̸̛͉̬̄ ̴̨̢͈͙̮̂̐͌t̶̼̯̥̽̀̿̌̂o̴͈̐̿̀́͆ ̴̢̻̙̍͛͌ṃ̷͑̀̌̓e̴͙̗̽̚ͅ,̷͓̫͆̓ ̷͇͇̬͗͆̇̎̕ḻ̷̦̫̇͜í̶̺̳̮̯ṭ̷͍͔̋͛͜t̷͎͕̀͌l̷̼͎̭͒͗̂ė̸̝͉̺̪͕͌͝ ̷͉͙̫͊̋̊̽͝o̷͎̯̥̕ņ̴̱̌͑́ẹ̵̑̎͐.̸̨͙̈́̒̍̂͋.̸̢̣̩͕̔̓̾́̽͜.̷̨͕̥̰̽́

    Once more Mercury turned to look over her shoulder, the slightest sensation prickling her skin. There it was again, that whispering. Something was calling out to her. Why did she feel like she was being watched?

    Her thoughts were derailed by Khelben hooking her in a gentle and playful headlock, causing Mercury to grin and fight him back, forgetting all about what she had just heard. “Happy birthday, butthead. We brought your favorite,” he told her, pointing to a thermos in one of the nearby wicker baskets.

    “Oooo, coffee! Don’t mind if I do!” Mercury squirmed out of Khelben’s hold and took a seat, reaching for the thermos while everyone else joined her on the blanket. She twisted off the lid even as Zemenar began to pass plates around, giving a strong whiff of the delicious scent within and letting out a humorous sound of pleasure that drew laughter from her family.

    As she reached for the creamer, something caught her eye in the reflection of the black liquid within. Seemingly unaware of her distraction, the other Xocili continued to chat idly even as Mercury lifted the container up to peer inside. There was… something… on the surface of the darkened water. The longer she stared, the more in focus it became: a figure whose back was to her, standing in a rocky wasteland with jagged black and purple crystals stretching up from the hard ground. Beyond her was a great pool of a black sludge like substance. Even as Mercury watched, the vision seemed to zoom in closer and closer upon the figure, the Xocili’s gaze transfixed. The figure turned and looked right at her with red and black eyes that burned bright as a small smile turned up on the woman’s lips.

    I̸̦̒̂̽̐̕͜ͅ ̶̳̘̦͎̓͌s̴͎̻̹̒̈́̀̀ë̴̦̘̭̂ë̶̩́̀ ̵̡̛̲̩̤̦̎̉̃̀ỳ̸̢̬͖͚͍̄̃ò̴͇̰ṳ̵͇̃͠.̴̮̼̻̙̽̂ͅ

    Mercury gasped and fell to her knees. Once more she was in the depths of Omothol, the sound of shrieking beasts flailing at her shield. She was pouring with sweat, and there was so much terror coursing through her veins that she couldn’t even scream. She blinked rapidly to try and get her bearings as she came down from whatever hallucination had just befallen her. A quick glance toward the other side showed that Blade had just severed a fleshy looking creature in twain. Blade was bleeding from his nose, but Mercury didn’t have much time to contemplate it as two more creatures drew her attention.

    Still running on residual panic that was pumping adrenaline through her veins like mad, Mercury subconsciously elected to forgo Mercy and tapped right into her magic. With a feral cry, she summoned a dozen massive turrets, lining them in even intervals around the outside of the shield, flanking the beasts. The guns locked on to their targets and unloaded magical ammunition into the creatures without letup. Mercury didn’t even realize her face was soaked with tears. She was being fully driven by fear, her instincts screaming at her to kill everything in sight before it had a chance to do the same to her. Whatever this place was, she needed to get out of it. Something – someone – was watching her, and she needed to leave.

    But they couldn’t do that until they got what they had come for, a fact that she only just barely managed to hold on to at the back of her mind. Mercury glanced at Cillian out of the corner of her eyes. The Necromancer was almost entirely enshrouded in a dark cloud that was so thick she almost couldn’t see his sickly green energy within.

    How much longer was this going to take…?
    I figure that if I live long enough, something good might happen.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Vandrad Ragnos
    Vandrad Ragnos

    Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Player 
    Lineage : Traveller of the Multiverse
    Position : None
    Posts : 781
    Guild : Fairy Tail
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 8,075,256

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Energy Monarch
    Second Skill: Ark of the Dread Masters
    Third Skill:

    Three Means, What End? - Page 2 Empty Re: Three Means, What End?

    Post by Vandrad Ragnos 16th May 2023, 9:50 am



    Three Hunters
    Mercury screamed, shaking Blade from his hardened focus. And immediately turrets of varying sizes and placement erupted into existence and began to bludgeon the landscape. The two creatures that had emerged in the wake of the prior’s destruction were peppered with explosive blasts, fragments of flesh and gore spraying across the sickly black ponds and deathly gray ground. Their cries of death and agony were so loud and frantic that it almost scraped against the eardrums of everyone around. Mercury never let up, leaving nothing but bloody pieces and ash in the wake of her broken reverie. And then everything went deadly silent as the roar of her cannons came to an end.

    It was just a feeling at first but Blade felt even more terrified than he had before. Even in the wake of the nightmare that had been forced upon him, something deep within him was screaming to run. In fact, the scratching, clawing voices that had been locked away in his head had also gone quiet. He wasn’t sure what it was that directed his gaze upwards but his eyes shifted from the landscape before them to the black sky above, the endless, textureless roof of the realm that seemed to lack any kind of definition. And in the vast darkness he saw… movement. It wasn’t clouds or something moving just above, hidden in the shadows. The actual sky, the black mass, was shifting and began to stretch down towards them.

    The fear of realizing that even the ceiling of the realm was dangerous should have been enough. But what made it worse was the sudden, overwhelming sensation that would hit them all. It would feel like an overwhelming pressure, pushing down on their entire forms, freezing them in place. Then the feeling of icy claws reaching in and grabbing hold of them; not their body but something else, something that could only be considered a soul. The sheer amount of terror that would fill them all would be irrational, even as the black mass began to molt and take shape. A clawed hand would emerge from the darkness, descending down at them and showcasing its immense size even from afar. They were barely large enough to make an impression on a single finger and yet the entire hand was falling towards them, as if it was aiming to scoop up the entire section of Omothol and crush it.

    They were out of time. Whatever the monster was that had now set its sights on them, no amount of power was going to kill it. At best they could cause miniscule damage to its hand before it caught them. And Cillian was fully entombed in his own magic mixing with the knowledge of the realm. There was no hope… which meant that Blade would have to make a sacrifice that he’d hoped to avoid. Activated via a neural connection, his ocarina floated up from his back and his sword wrenched out of his grip. The two floated close together in front of him, with the ocarina hovering just below the pommel of the sword. Bright, white light surged up from the ocarina and into the sword, creating a sword-shaped beacon of pure energy. Now freed from his fear, if only temporarily, Blade grabbed the handle of the sword and thrust it up and towards the center of the descending palm, even as he reached up and ripped off the eye patch with his other hand. A blood red eye opened and stared up at the hand, analyzing its every feature and encompassing its information within.

    There was no classification but the details of it were as clear as day for Blade in his mind’s eye. Even attempting to put into perspective the sheer scope of the monstrosity would have broken down the walls in his mind. And worse, there were no weaknesses that he could exploit. So the only thing he could do was hold it off and hope that Cillian was close enough to completing his task. Mercury’s light shield was swallowed up into the Blade’s sword as he grabbed it with both of his hands. Closing his eyes, he focused everything he had into the weapon and then thrust it upwards, pointing it skyward and towards the terrifyingly close hand. A beam of light emerged from the tip of the blade, rushing up hastily and crashing into the palm, bringing it to a stop. The light spread out and formed a countering hand, a construct of light energy, that pushed back against the descending one with slightly less than a matching force.

    He was still not holding it fully in place but he’d slowed it down immensely. He grunted and groaned as energy funneled out of him into the sword, powering the construct above. His focus was so dead set on protecting them, on keeping the clawed grip from capturing them, that he couldn’t even hear anything else. He couldn’t have known that the ritual had finally reached its pinnacle and Cillian would be freed from the dark miasma. Smog rolled in from all around them and pooled into the Necronomicon, the book forcefully whipping open and pages fluttering as words were etched onto the pages.

    Now it was up to Mercury and Cillian to commit what they saw to memory. The cursed, billowing words that spoke of a time past and the ruling monsters that had conquered the Time Before, known only as the Ancient Ones. Erased during the culmination of their reality, fragments of their existence could not be erased. A handful of the remnant pieces proved to be the origin for the corrupted power that would need to be sealed off from the rest of reality. But one such fragment had been forcefully brought into the world by sacrifice, a crystallized creation that had been forced into existence by the machinations of one selfish man. Omothol remembered the name; one called Eriladar. A man of reality that had stolen from Omothol beyond comprehension, for nothing could materialize a piece of the Ancient Ones power without direct intervention of a living Ancient One.

    The words on the page would burn away just as quickly as they had appeared. Blade was down on his knees, his arms shaking violently as he continued to hold the sword aloft. But the hand had gotten much closer and the constructed hand was losing its glow. Within seconds, it would break and they would all be completely covered in shadow of the approaching palm.

    ...one galaxy
    WORDS: 1086 / 11,110
    TAGS: @Mercury Arseneault, @Serilda Sinclair, @Mythal Ragnos
    NOTES: none


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair

    Ice Queen


    Ice Queen

    Developer/GFX Artist- Main Account- Gain An Artifact- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Of Ishgar- Ten Wizard Saint Member- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- Z-Rank- Y-Rank- X-Rank- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Wanderer- So Extra- EXP Grinder- Job Creator- Working Together- Forever Solo- Christian Minecraft Server- Teaming Up!- Limited Edition- Hired Help- Unknown Powerhouse- Unknown Legend- Helper- Guild Creator- Achiever- Expert Achiever- Over Achiever- Buddy Buddy- Obligatory Beach Episode- Shipped- Dank Memer- Taskmaster- Richie Rich- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Tertiary Magic- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Best GFX Artist Award- Player 
    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
    Position : Goddess of Conviction
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1365
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 155
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 12,421,054

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Voidwalking
    Second Skill: Sword of Wrath
    Third Skill: Cruorthurgy

    Three Means, What End? - Page 2 Empty Re: Three Means, What End?

    Post by Serilda Sinclair 16th May 2023, 11:14 am

    Seri Banner
    Conviction never shames nor condemns us.
    It calls us back to who we truly are.
    Serilda did her best to be polite, as she always did. The weapons weren’t what she was used to, nor were they to her tastes aesthetically, but that was little excuse to be demanding or demeaning. What was most important was the work the weapons would accomplish. The way they looked was material at best with no bearing on their effectiveness at getting the job done, and she trusted her training and dedication enough to believe that she could learn to master the new styles relatively quickly.

    However, it seemed the weaponsmith was not fooled. Whether he had noticed some kind of tell in her face, read something with his omnipotent abilities, or simply decided upon watching her work with the weapons, Algerone seemed to have picked up that something was off. Serilda complimented the weapons and thanked him for them, only to be met with an awkward silence and a troubled expression. When Nuda finally prompted him, he spoke up with his own thoughts that something wasn’t quite right. He remarked upon the blades needing to help Serilda, to be extensions of herself and not something that should require any adjusting. As a result, he was not satisfied with his work and wanted to rework them.

    There was a brief moment, more out of social instinct than anything else, where Serilda thought to decline and assure him it would be fine. But, something made her pause. In that moment she saw the true craftsman in the man, someone who took immense pride in their work and wanted to do it right. It would likely sit with him forever if she didn’t give him the chance to improve them. The noblewoman gave him a small nod “Very well.”

    She handed him the weapons back and once more Algerone placed them in the forge even as he began to pace. He spoke his thoughts out loud, observing that the shape had been all wrong, not at all suited for her fighting style, nor her personality or her position as a well known leader and figurehead. His outer monologue picked up in speed and excitement until he hit upon an idea, claiming to have the solution. Serilda watched quietly as he instructed the avatar once more, the large hammer striking down upon the weapons and flooding the room with blinding light once again.

    Once her vision had mostly cleared, Serilda was able to look at the brand new forms of her swords, and what she saw had her almost transfixed. Two swords, perfectly symmetrical in shape but opposing in color, awaited her on the table. The were sleek and elegant in design, much less bulky that the prior models had been though still with the heft she would be used to from the scimitars. There was gold inlaid within the handle, guard, and the base of the billet, and both weapons were so smoothly polished that they nearly looked like they were made of glass. She approached for a closer look even as Algerone explained the changes he had made, accepting them quietly as he offered them back to her.

    A second time, Serilda stepped back a bit to get a feel for the weapons, these ones feeling much more natural in her hands than the prior ones – hell, they felt more natural than even the originals had, the blades practically singing as she swept them through the air. However, the smith wasn’t yet done. He invited her to apply a touch of her Void magic to them to bring them together. Curious, she did just that. The swords reacted immediately to the touch of her magic, forming a single double handed long sword whose surface seemed to reflect the starry night sky. It was longer than the other two swords, with an intricate guard and pommel that was reminiscent of leaves and vines. He referred to it as the Voidblade, and informed her that it was capable not only of channeling both the holy and unholy energies of her other weapons, but also her personal Void magic… just on the off chance she ever needed something with a little more leveraging power.

    Serilda played a little with the Voidblade as he tacked on a few additional details, finding it to indeed be as light and maneuverable as the other weapons. When he finished, expressing his worry about losing his touch, Serilda stopped and separated Moonlight and Malice from each other once more, taking another moment to gaze upon them. “These are… perfect, Master Algerone. Truly.” Her prior compliments and sentiments had of course been sincere, but there was something different in her eyes as she met his gaze; a passion or perhaps excitement that would be unmistakable. “Thank you.”

    Serilda Sinclair



    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Mythal Ragnos
    Mythal Ragnos

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Magic Application Approved!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
    Position : God of Sedulity
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1049
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 50
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
    Experience : 11,070,431

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Skill: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Skill: Soul Stone/Trickster's Illusions

    Three Means, What End? - Page 2 Empty Re: Three Means, What End?

    Post by Mythal Ragnos 16th May 2023, 4:01 pm

    LIGHT
    &
    DARK
    1327/6460 words || @Serilda Sinclair, @Cillian duCrosse, @Vandrad Ragnos || job info/job sign-up || short note here

    One could see, already, that Algerone’s mood had shifted dramatically. Even before Serilda had truly beheld the newly reforged swords, now twice changed, there was a glee in his eyes that flickered akin to the light in the forge. He watched with pleased silence, placing his hands together in front of his face as he observed the Voidwalker take the long swords and move over to once more get a feel for them. Even Mythal could see the change; Serilda fought with a smoothness and elegance that was almost like a dance and he could see the same movement with the two swords. As if that wasn’t enough, the weaponsmith made her keenly aware of the fusion she could make with her void magic, bringing the swords together in one deadly weapon. And with it, she could utilize both divine and demonic at once rather than having to choose, in addition to her own natural magic.

    Algerone was pleased -- well and truly this time. With the woman holding the weapons in her hand, she once more praised him for his reforging and this time, he felt it in his heart. He let out a giggle and wiggled his hips happily as he clapped. “Yes, wonderful, stupendous, absolutely divine! It is, ah, my pleasure, Lady Serilda. A forgemaster often creates out of their own, ah, imagination when not given a blueprint. But we are not lost on how alien weapons can be when they are not in their correct shape for their user.” With that, Algerone clapped his hands together and turned to Mythal. “Now, Mythal, that sword of yours…”

    “Hopebringer,” Mythal remarked as he took out the handle of Curse. Off the look from both Nuda and Ruzatz, he shrugged. “I ain’t the one that named it.” With that explained, he held out the handle towards Algerone. “Or do ya want me to get the scythe? I think a few Boscan engineers might be pretty pissed if I let you alter that.”

    “Oh no, that is moderate in its design. It won’t do much against Faera with the lacrima you installed in it anyways. No, ah, I wanted to ask you something, in addition to summoning, ah, Hopebringer.” Mythal snapped at the glowing blade snapped to life off of the handle, shining with pale moonlight against the weaponsmith’s face. “You have no qualms about killing supernatural creatures, yes?”

    Mythal shrugged again. “Not really, no. I ain’t exactly huntin’ them down but if they come at me or anyone I’m with…”

    “And what about humans?” Algerone continued as he turned the sword over in his hand, looking over the blade.

    There was a pause. “Same deal I guess…”

    “Ah ah, see…” Algerone turned his gaze to the Darkness Slayer. “There was a pause. A pregnant, palpable pause that spoke far more truth than, ah, your words. You see, Mythal, I could see it in your eyes earlier. Not just the pain and agony you’ve suffered because of Faera but what is currently happening in your world. I may be distracted but I am not lost to current events or, ah, in this case, world wars. You’re disheveled, tired and worn and not just because of your duties. You’re tired of the killing, aren’t you?”

    All eyes were on Mythal, something he loathed even in his best moments. But when a complete stranger, or at least someone he hadn’t known for very long, called him out with such directness… it had a way of rubbing him the wrong way. Yet the worst part was that he wasn’t angry. If anything he felt… a wave of relief. As if his own feelings have been put into words and shown before him. He held his gaze on Algerone’s for a long few moments, only flickering away slightly to look barely at Serilda before finally… he sighed. “I didn’t sign up for the Rune Knights to butcher people. Boys and girls, barely adults, are losing their lives because bullshit politics refuse to find some kind of common ground. I know it’s more than that, I know that there is real danger that threatens the lives of every person on the continent and I ain’t even sure that both sides are all that altruistic. I’m just… tired.”

    Algerone leaned down and placed a hand on Mythal’s shoulder. “I know exactly how you feel. People think that as Ramuh’s vassal that I was some kind of scholar. If anything, I was a mass murderer. And when that son of a bitch, ah, gave me those few minutes of omnipotence, I saw the pain I had wrought. And I wanted to do something better. And you will do better things. Trust me on that.” It was an oddly sentimental, open moment for Algerone; a clear break from his extravagance that he had displayed since they had arrived. But just as quickly as that moment had been there, it was gone. “I’m thinking of an additional whip. Two whips to be exact.”

    “... what?”

    “Oh I knew exactly what I wanted to do for you before you even got here. Lady Serilda was the real challenge. No, Hopebringer is actually one of mine. Magnificent, isn’t she?” he asked, sliding his hand across the smooth side of the blade, the magic humming against his flesh. “But she is only one part of a full weapon. After all, this weapon was meant to slay Faera for good.”

    Mythal’s eyes widened. “Wait. You made Hopebr- you made it to kill Faera?”

    “It’s full form, yes. But we’re still missing another part; you’ll have that soon enough. Yes, I saw the danger Faera and Kingdom Darkness posed and saw a means to bring it to an end. Granted, it’s going to require a lot of magical power charged into it -- that’s why I made it so it can absorb magical properties you deem fit. If you and Serilda were to link your magics into it once it’s complete… well, it’ll be quite a show. One of the other parts is a specialized whip which I have already blueprinted called Dawnbreaker. But I’m thinking something made of seacilian leather. Something you can use to disarm, depose but not murder.” Already the avatar was moving and as Algerone twirled Hopebringer in his hands with a grin, yet another flash of light filled the area.

    Once it had settled, two completely different whips sat on the table. One was made of metal, chain linked with a sharp mace head at the very end. The guard was also made of pointed metal, the only part made of leather being the handle. other was made of twisted leather of a brown-red tint. The handle for it was made of a darker, firmer leather and a gold dragon head made up the connector between handle and whip length.

    “Dawnbreaker,” Algerone gestured to the metal one. “You can name the other one if you want. Maybe something fun like playtime,” Algerone clicked his tongue and shot a wink at Ruzatz and Agatha.


    Mythal leaned forward and took both whips in hand, staring at them one after the other slowly. “I… have no idea how to use whips,” he admitted, looking up.

    “Oh I’m sure Ruzatz and Agatha would be more than happy to teach you. Dawnbreaker is pliable to both your demonic and divine slaying magics, so you can channel anything into it you want. It’s meant to be used against monsters only; it would utterly evaporate a human being if they got hit by it. The other will just leave a really bad welt and maybe break a limb or two.” Algerone fell back onto the couch, picking up his wine glass from the air and lounging back against Agatha. “Ah it feels good to get things right. Hey, let’s say we all get naked and--”

    “Algerone,” Nuda spoke up pointedly.

    “Right, too quick. Have to ease into these things. Good, ah, work, Nuda.”



    STATISTICS
    HP: x/y
    MP: x/y
    Spells Used: list them here
    Abilities Active: list them and their effects here
    Weapons Equipped: list/link them here
    Monsters Killed: list here
    Other Notes: reeeeeee this should scroll if you type too much
    IVYLEAF33



    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Cillian duCrosse
    Cillian duCrosse

    Player 
    Lineage : Legend of the Lich
    Position : None
    Posts : 175
    Guild : Confidence Intl.
    Cosmic Coins : 0
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 394,517

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Necrothurgy
    Second Skill:
    Third Skill:

    Three Means, What End? - Page 2 Empty Re: Three Means, What End?

    Post by Cillian duCrosse 20th May 2023, 7:36 pm

    Even though my life hasn't been all that great

      1086/8128 WORDS
     
    @Mythal Ragnos @Vandrad Ragnos @Serilda Sinclair
     
    THEME SONG
     
    I have seen war, famine; witnessed the genocide. Have seen the changes in human nature and history, and I am still here, standing alone. Til the end, I will be there too. To witness the endless carnage, to live this harsh reality. Cause I have been cursed, Cursed with immortality.
    Cillian was vaguely aware of the battle raging around him, but in spite of his curiosity – and concern – he kept himself focused on the task at hand. He was the only one who could perform the ritual in order to get the information they needed, so he simply had to trust Blade and Mercury to do their jobs.

    Not that he had much of a choice, anyway. The Necromancer didn’t really get a chance to explain the ritual itself because they had very little time to waste, but he was quite literally soaking in Omothol. Not just the air and the energy of the place, but its history and memories, its scars; every aspect of both its existence and non-existence. To call the process excruciating wouldn’t even begin to truly cover the depths of agony he was experiencing. He could hear the sounds of battle around him, but it sounded distant in comparison to his own thoughts.

    Mercury’s scream pierced his reverie, shaking himself from the near trance he had nearly succumbed to. He could hear the sound of machine fire and the shrieks of dying beasts in a cacophony of agony. A distant sensation of horror rose within him, though he didn’t dare draw his gaze out to discover why. Any loss of control, any shift in his attention could cause the ritual to fail and there was no telling how catastrophic the consequences of that would be.

    Finally, he felt it: the gentle sensation of the ritual reaching its peak charge, the darkness around him so opaque that he had been swallowed by it entirely, completely out of sight to his companions. Then, the swirling black tendrils soaked completely into his body, visibly traveling down to a single hand that he extended over the Necronomicon. With a single word of power, Cillian withdrew a knife and cut his palm. Rather than blood pouring from the wound, a thick black ichor not unlike the pools around them dripped from the cut and fell upon the tome. As the book began to glow with an unending darkness, floating slowly into the air before him, a thick cloud of black fog rolled in like a desert storm from all sides.

    Finally the book snapped open, the pages flipping of their own accord as words began to inscribe themselves on the weathered parchment. “Blade! Mercury!” He was so focused on his task that he was entirely unaware of the impending doom above them, a clawed hand that had Mercury petrified to the point of paralysis even as Blade tapped into some unknown power in an attempt to slow it down.

    Blade could no longer provide a hand in memorizing what they had come there for, but Cillian’s voice piercing the sky was enough to pull Mercury out of it. She scrambled over toward the Necromancer and forced herself to read, soaking in as much information as possible between the two of them, doing her best to ignore the one question none of them had thought to ask before allowing themselves to be transported to this place of nightmares:

    How the hell were they supposed to get back home?

    And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Mercury found herself falling to her knees and gasping for air, her body trembling and twitching with residual terror as she frantically glanced around them at the familiar sight of the still frozen graveyard. Cillian fully collapsed beside her hard onto his ass, the Necromancer blinking around in confusion and horror even as the Book of the Damned slammed itself shut and settled gently to the ground near him. He didn’t need to open the book to confirm that the Lich King’s words had been true about nothing from Omothol being able to be brought back to the living world via any kind of script or recording. He could sense that the book had returned to its natural state.

    Breathe. You are safe now. The Lich King’s voice sounded once more in their minds, causing Mercury to practically jump out of her skin. As she settled down, the undead lord continued. I apologize. I allowed you to stay as long as I could – longer than I expected you would all be able to endure. He cast a curious and knowing look at Blade, the King’s glowing eyes searching the Terran. However, right when it seemed that the Lich King was going to comment upon the actions that Blade had taken, he instead turned away and chose to carry on. Did you find what you were looking for?

    “I uh… I think so?” Cillian looked like he was going to pass out from exhaustion, and understandably so. It was remarkable he was still conscious given the sheer amount of power that he had channeled in the last few minutes. “A fragment of power from the Time Before was stolen. It was taken by force through.. Some kind of sacrifice…”

    “Eriladar.” Mercury’s voice was quiet, her mental state having gone so far beyond the point of fear and trauma that she’d come back around to the kind of numbness that could only come from her brain desperately trying to deny everything it had just witnessed. She turned slowly to look at Blade. “That’s Maker’s true name… isn’t it?”

    Presuming Blade would confirm this, Mercury would nod. “Omothol remembers him. He created some sort of… crystal… that should never have existed in our world. That’s what we need to find.” It wasn’t much, but it was something. And consider all the nothing they’d had for months… Despite everything, it was at least the smallest smidgen of hope. She turned to the Lich King. “Thank you for all your help.”

    I believe your thanks may be misplaced, as I fear my actions may have resulted in more harm than good. With you in particular. Surprisingly, there was almost gentleness or sadness to him as he considered Mercury with a pitious tone, but once again he did not choose to elaborate, despite the confused furrow of the Xocili’s brows. Either way, I have done all I can for you. Good luck. I truly hope it was worth the suffering you endured… and that which is yet to come.

    And with that ominous farewell, he was simply gone, leaving the three to collect themselves and traverse back to the Silver Wolf guild where they could start the long and arduous process of learning how to cope with what they had done.
    I figure that if I live long enough, something good might happen.


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    Vandrad Ragnos
    Vandrad Ragnos

    Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- Player 
    Lineage : Traveller of the Multiverse
    Position : None
    Posts : 781
    Guild : Fairy Tail
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 8,075,256

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Energy Monarch
    Second Skill: Ark of the Dread Masters
    Third Skill:

    Three Means, What End? - Page 2 Empty Re: Three Means, What End?

    Post by Vandrad Ragnos 21st May 2023, 10:08 am



    Three Hunters
    There was nothing Blade could do to stop the descending hand. All the power he had summoned to him, siphoned and released, had been merely a temporary stopgap and not a great one at that. The clawed fingers still approached, even as Cillian finally managed to complete his spell and call out for them. He couldn’t even look away for a second, so astutely focused on keeping his concentration fully on the hand. They were robbing themselves of another pair of eyes on the book to memorize but had he taken that opportunity, their lives would be forfeit. They very well seemed to be anyways, as the last remnants of his creation began to break apart and the overwhelming darkness fell upon them.

    But just before they could fall victim to whatever was coming for them, they were pulled out. All three found themselves on the ground. Blade was able to release the remnants of his power, dropping down to his knees and nearly falling completely over. He managed to put down one arm to brace himself, his fingers trembling and his entire body weak and sore. The vestiges of madness were disappearing and within seconds, the Terran had all but forgotten their terrible pressure on his mind. But there was no forgetting the sacrifice he’d been forced to make to keep them all alive.

    Ten years. He didn’t need to use any of his abilities to get an exact measurement of the amount of lifeforce he’d expended. With no other alternatives, the Terran had called upon the forbidden technique to turn the latter end of his life force into pure energy, granting him a boost beyond his limits while he burned off his later years. When most people used it, they were burned off a few months, perhaps a year, for one burst of power that would tip the edge of a trial. Blade had only ever heard of one person that had used up the entirety of his life force against an enemy, draining himself into nothing but a husk. But that had been the example of why one shouldn’t use the sacrificial power for an impossible task and he had broken the first taboo. He didn’t regret it; had he chosen otherwise, they would all be dead right now, or at least disincorporated in Cillian’s case, he assumed.

    Yet it was more Terran life that had been lost due to Maker. He couldn’t help the bubbling anger from rising up inside of him as his hands pressed hard against the frozen cemetery, cracking the solid frost, even in spite of how weak he felt and, in fact, was. He could barely hear the Lich King addressing them, their savior explaining why he had brought them back when he did. Cillian went over a portion of their findings, stating that some kind of power had been taken from the Time Before due to a sacrifice. Blade didn’t need an explanation to what sacrifice it was, especially when Mercury spoke a name he’d long since buried in his memories. “No,” Blade hissed as she asked if it was Maker’s true name. “He is Maker. He lost the right to call himself that name when he sacrificed our people. Eriladar is dead… if he was ever truly alive in the first place.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, still too angry over the matter.

    But he listened as she explained that Omothol had made a note of his name, as he had created a crystal-like object that was never meant to exist. That was their goal; finding that crystal. Of course that was easier said than done but at least they had a clear path now, rather than grabbing blindly in the dark for something, anything, to give them answers. Mercury thanked the Lich King for his help and he lamented her thanks, as he believed he had created more danger for her than benefitted her. He didn’t provide any kind of insight beyond that, wishing them luck and hoping that the misery that had endured, both in the present and in the future, was worth the trouble. And then he was gone, without pomp and circumstance, fading back into the ethereal. All three of them were left there with their thoughts and feelings before finally forcing themselves to get up and head back to Silver Wolf. Whatever excitement there should have been for making progress was lacking and Blade excused himself to get some rest without much explanation.

    He would sleep; his body wouldn’t allow him to stay awake. But it was not restful. Despite the events of Omothol having been muddled in the back of his mind and the horrors they endured descending back into the darkness of their innermost thoughts, the nightmares came. Memories of his people flooded back, breaking through all of the suppression he had done over the years. Walking through the silent halls of buildings on his planet. And his people… petrified in their places. Turned into ashy, barely solid monuments to the living, breathing person that once was. Glowing veins of lime-green light ran a course of their limbs and bodies, creating an eerie glow. In his dreamscape, he approached the statue-esque forms of his father and mother, clutching one another in their final moments. Slowly he reached up and out for them, though he knew better than to touch the near-crumbling monuments.

    But it didn’t matter; hands burst through the statues, destroying them in puffs of dark ash as Maker reached through and grabbed Blade, pulling him down and towards him. “You’ll join them, brother,” Maker hissed cruelly, as his mouth opened and revealed thousands of sharp, ichor-soaked teeth. “And then you’ll see what I saw when I opened the window.”

    ...one galaxy
    WORDS: 961 / 12,071
    TAGS: @Mercury Arseneault, @Serilda Sinclair, @Mythal Ragnos
    NOTES: none


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