Welcome to Scribes Corner. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Add Reply
The Quest for the Lost God; Chapter One: The Heroes of All World
Topic Started: Jul 20 2011, 03:36 PM (2,468 Views)
James
Caffeinated
Wayne followed the king and Matthew as they walked into shadows. The faint light flickered in front of him and he followed it like a moth to a flame, instinct in the dark, flock to the light. Whistling to himself he wandered swinging his arms relaxed. I wonder what these tunnels are used for he wondered as he made his way through the dark; if his travels had taught him anything it was that the holiest of places had the most to hide.

ooc: short post is short, not much to say at this point.
Number of Poems Written in the name of roleplaying, count: 1
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
quirk
Member Avatar
Apprentice
OOC: Sorry for the wait, but I was putting off til Thursday for a particular conversation. : D

IC: Before following the king, James fell back into a spot where he could see the mysterious woman Victoria. He hesitated to speak for a moment, having that awkward feeling of desiring to both speak and stay silent. Instead, he reached into his pocket, where he though the biscuit might be, before remembering he had finished it during the most recent of the king's speeches. He glanced around at their group, suddenly nervous to even begin to speak in the quiet that had currently settled on them, but then spoke up.

"So," he asked, looking over at Victoria, "out of curiousity, exactly how far do your...powers, go? You seem to have taken to them quite well, considering, well, the fact you use them instead of walking." As he said these things, he attempted to be polite in his speech, though he had to admit discussion of powers like these was not a familiar subject of his.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Half Tooth
Member Avatar
Painter
Scylliria watched the Paladin with interest.
And I thought I was late... she sighed. He must have had a good reason, an apointment with the king is hardly one a paladin would take lightly

The King invited them through a secret passageway to quicken their journey, although she could definately see the advantages of this she felt reluctant to enter the passage where she knew she would be unable to see or smell the familiar saltiness of her home. It made her feel very uneasy. She absent mindedly reached back to check her glaive was still on her back and waited, deciding she'd like to be the last into the tunnel. She didn't much feel like showing her back to these people so soon, especially not when she was so out of water.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Duke Smugleaf
Member Avatar
Celestial Princess
Victoria began hovering towards the tunnel, responding to James without looking back.

I am not sure what you are asking. Are you questioning me about the level of psionic "strength" I posses? If so, then my only answer is that I possess as much as I need, she said telepathically, And I assure you that levitating is much easier. I barely need this useless husk of a body, but I suppose there is not much I can do about that at this point in time.

As she entered the dark tunnel, Victoria extended a sphere of telekinetic influence around her, "sensing" her surroundings and letting her "see" despite the darkness. Without the outside light, one could now clearly see that her peculiar, swirling tattoos were ever so faintly glowing a pale purple.
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Paladin
Novice
The next of the party to greet Garnier was a golem. "You may name me Duhos Oregember, First of the Oregember of Disolthrem." A golem? I didn't think any still existed. It must be ancient. He knew little of these beings, other than that they were artificial constructs and fought against the Lord of the Dark, long ago. Whether or not they were truly alive, or simply earth and metal bound to a complex enchantment, was something he did not know. The golems in the stories and legends sounded little more than the latter, but this golem, presumably here on his own account and even having a name, strongly suggested the former.

Before Garnier could think on it further, the king addressed the group. "And so your journey begins. If there are no further questions, we shall be on our way. The first leg of your quest is at Wellay, where the Duke shall be waiting for you. As time is of the essence, you shall be taking my own personal route to the island."

A servant pushed a stone in the wall back, causing part of the wall to open. "For emergencies," the king spoke. So we're using a secret passage. Or rather, a formerly secret passage. Still, I can't think of a more appropriate time to make use of such an asset than now.

The king entered the passage, taking a torch. "The whole world is at stake. We had best get a move on." Garnier placed his helm back onto his head and followed.
The stone cannot know why the chisel cleaves it;
the iron cannot know why the fire scorches it.
When thy life is cleft and scorched, when death and despair leap at thee,
beat not thy breast and curse thy evil fate,
but thank the Builder for the trials that shape thee.

-The Hammer Book of Tenets
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
quirk
Member Avatar
Apprentice
"Well," James said, following behind her, "You just seem to have taken to it much more than the few other practitioners I met while in my studies. Of course, they can communicate through their powers, but most of them prefer to still speak. Or, to refer to what you just said, I've never met a single..." he hesitated, not knowing the word best used to describe those with these mental powers. "...one of your kind, who said they would be rid of their body if they could." He shrugged. "You simply seem more...devoted to your abilities, I suppose."

He suddenly was put off balance over a small rise in the ground, having not been paying attention to the floor below him as he attempted to speak with Victoria. "I suppose that's one small advantage," he said, smiling a bit at his own mistake, as he corrected himself.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Duke Smugleaf
Member Avatar
Celestial Princess
James would here something that could vaguely be described as a "chuckle" before Victoria continued.

Then you have not been talking to the right people, it seems. I assure you, I am not unique in this world. There are plenty of "my kind," as you call us.

If he payed attention, James would notice a hint of suggestion with that last sentence, implying that there might be a bit more to Victoria's statements than at first appearance.

Continuing, Victoria sent another message, The human body is weak and fragile and possesses too many failings. Only by casting off our humanity can we achieve greater heights, both in power and in enlightenment, but I am sure that you do not wish to discuss philosophy with me during our current situation. Perhaps later, when we reach the boat, we can continue if you so desire.
Posted Image
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Colonel Mustard
Member Avatar
Lord of Facial Hair
A tunnel. By the Old Maiden, this bought back memories, and few of them pleasant.

Duhos slung his glaive behind his back as the king revealed his secret passage to the teleportation chamber. The man led the way, followed by Matthew, before Victoria and Wayne followed as well. He could hear the Atlesian conversing with her, and clearly the replies were all psychic ones, lending the conversation somewhat of a surreal air to it; if Duhos did not know of Victoria’s powers, he would have assumed the man insane.

He saw the paladin follow, sliding his helm back on, and was about to follow when he noticed the Tsydra, the girl who had introduced herself as ‘Celiria’ or something equally unpronounceable, hanging back. There was a slightly uncomfortable edge to her stance, and she seemed to be unconsciously checking that her own glaive was in easy reach. It was, he supposed, understandable; Sea Elves weren’t comfortable on land even at the best of times, and he would not be surprised if going underground were something completely new for her.

He walked over to her, clay feet thumping quietly against the floor, before he said; “You seem uncomfortable, little elf. You’re not, by any chance, unhappy about going underground?”

His clay mouth warped into the closest approximation he had for a smile, before he said; “Perhaps we could go together. I myself am not the fondest of small, dark spaces beneath the earth.”
"Pillage, then burn."-Rule 1 of Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
quirk
Member Avatar
Apprentice
"Very well," he said, looking ahead at the tunnel again. "I look forward to it." Honestly, he felt slightly more comfortable now, knowing at least something about one of the others in the group. In particular, having spoken to Victoria had improved his mood somewhat, though he wasn't sure why, beyond her vague mention of philosophy, a favorite subject of his tutor and himself throughout his years as a student.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Half Tooth
Member Avatar
Painter
Scylliria looked up at the Golem. She silently cursed herself for being so obvious with her uncertainty, but it was indeed a very small tunnel. She was however quite thrilled that such a fascinating creature wanted to walk with her, it would giver the chance to learn more about him to write down in her journal of observations. She noted his dislike for the tunnel and wondered if there was anything more to that than the fact that something really big doesn't fit into something small.
"That would be pleasent." She replied simply, "I am not found fond of spaces such as this. There is no way out, and in the sea, there is always a way out and you can go in any direction. On land you are limitted to where you can walk to and in a tunnel there are only 2 directions. It feels very restricted."
As she entered the tunnel she felt her chest tighten, suddenly she really didn't want to go in. A completely overwhelming fear filled her, stronger than anything she had ever felt before. It clouded all her senses and her memory. All thgouths regarding the rest of the group and the fact she was in the presence of a king flew out of her mind.

"I can't, I can't go in!" She shook, her breath coming out in great gasps as she backed away.

OOC: Random drama!
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Colonel Mustard
Member Avatar
Lord of Facial Hair
His offer seemed to reassure the sea elf girl, who quickly explained exactly why she was so uncomfortable with the idea of going underground. Seeming to have regained her nerve, Scylliria stepped forward to the mouth of the tunnel, a slightly bolder set to her stance. She reached its mouth, and then she froze.

“Little elf?” Duhos asked from behind her.

“I can’t!” she suddenly cried. “I can’t go in!”

She backed away, only to find a massive clay hand the size of a dinner plate resting gently, yet inexorably, on her shoulder.

“Yes you can,” Duhos said firmly from behind her. “Go on, walk. I will be right behind you.”
"Pillage, then burn."-Rule 1 of Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Paladin
Novice
Behind him, Garner could hear the sea elf apparently having a panic attack. He stopped and looked behind him, somewhat concerned. What's wrong? Is she afraid of tight spaces? He could not see her, as the golem took up so a lot of space in the corridor.

What happened next was something he did not expect; the golem turned around and began to comfort and reassure her. This golem continues to amaze me. It is definitely far more than a mindless construct. To comfort another as a living creature might. I hope he can get to her; this will probably no be the last such passage we will have to travel though, and if she cannot handle it, perhaps she should not continue...

Garnier stopped that line of thought, almost wincing. The fact of the matter was that many members of his Order had been succumbing to a similar problem; the inability to continue with their strict, selfless lifestyles without the Goddess's presence to comfort them. Most members of the Order had made vows of poverty and celibacy, to dedicate their entire lives to the Church and to be free of the desires of the flesh until their deaths. Even those who had never known anything else were turning away, convinced that without the Goddess, there was no purpose or incentive to continue serving her. For whatever reasons, they just couldn't continue doing what they did.

Even he himself had such feelings; when things were tough, he had always been able to call upon the Goddess to provide him comfort and strength to continue on. Now when he prayed, he felt nothing, just a chilling emptiness where there was once a benevolent presence. He retained his divine powers, but they provided him no respite. In some ways, he feared that someday he too would succumb to the same despair and apathy that had caused so many of his brothers and sisters in the Order to break their vows and leave.

No! I will not fall as they did. I will stay faithful until the end. Even if the rest of the Order falls away, I will endure. Pushing the thoughts of worry out of his mind, he continued to silently wait and see what the sea elf would do.
The stone cannot know why the chisel cleaves it;
the iron cannot know why the fire scorches it.
When thy life is cleft and scorched, when death and despair leap at thee,
beat not thy breast and curse thy evil fate,
but thank the Builder for the trials that shape thee.

-The Hammer Book of Tenets
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Half Tooth
Member Avatar
Painter
Scylliria felt a huge stone hand pressing gently on her shoulder, although he was nto exerting any force upon her she could not take a step backwards. She looked up at his strangely sculpted face and felt the panic ebbing away.

"I will feel much better when we get to the sea." She trembled before taking a moment to compose herself, deep breaths in and deep breaths out. It was just her imagination but the air did not sooth her as much as breathing underwater would have done. But then again, she would never have panicked so badly underwater either.

Scylliria closed her eyes briefly and walked forwards. Feeling like she'd quite like to continue her journey through the tunnel this way.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
quirk
Member Avatar
Apprentice
James was rather confused by the behavior of the sea elf, in her refusal to go through the passage. He hadn't expected such a simple fear from one of the elves, considering their mysterious nature. Despite this, it comforted him. If this sea elf's phobias were justifiable, he was sure his own were equally in the right to possess. His own worries were distant, yet the distance between them made him more nervous as they went further into the unknown, away from the familiar politics and wars of the world.

He supposed it was expected to be going into territory unfamiliar to most, yet the very thought of this journey, which would lead to places which he knew nothing of, worried him more than any particular war or phobia.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Darkom
Member Avatar
Philosophizer

Secret Passage; Mid-Morning, March 1st, 1066 AL

The king walked along the cold passage, the soft light of his torch throwing wild shadows against the stone. Behind him he heard the murmer of conversation, softened by the thick, oppressive walls. Dark thoughts flickered through his mind. Thoughts of death, destruction, and the great evil that threatened them all. His eyes sought vainly for the light he knew lay at the end of the tunnel, but ahead of him lay only blackness. His torchlight fell away to shadow mere feet before his face. The cold emptiness twisted all around him, flitting at the edge of his vision. He felt certain it would overtake him, grab him and pull him into the dark, when a sudden scream broke the heavy silence. "I can't, I can't go in!"

The king looked back, past Gerald and the heroes that had already fallen in behind him, towards the small square of light that was the throne room. The voice had the slippery lisp of the Tsydra; Scylliria must be panicked. Cursing himself for forgetting the Sea Elves' fear of closed spaces, the king turned on his heel and began walking back the way they came. Gerald fell in behind him, the rest of their party making way as he approached the blue skinned elf.

"I am so terribly sorry," he began, before realizing her sapphire eyes were shut tight. 'Poor thing,' Richard thought, reaching out one thin hand to the elf's shoulder. Her skin felt slippery to the touch, as though she had just emerged from the water. "We did not build this castle with Tsydra in mind either; I hope it is not too much for you. It is, unfortunately, the only way to reach our destination. It does not go on for long, I promise, and afterwards you will be on the open sea once more."

The king stepped back, his own fears forgotten in comforting the Sea Elf. An empty smile crept across his features; a diplomat's smile, meant to twist and use rather than laugh and love. "Please, if you will all come this way, you'll be at Wellay before you know it." The king began walking once more, with a final encouraging glance at the Tsydra. The darkness closed around him once more, the thin smoke of his torch replacing the damp smell of old stone. This time he did not look back.




Richard straightened as he finally stepped out of the passageway, glad to be out of the darkness and into a sunlit room. Windows, high above, let in the golden glow of a morning fading quickly to noon. The rest of the room was square, barren stone; no other doors interrupted the flat gray. No furniture adorned the room, no fabulous wall hangings or portraits. The only thing worth note in the room at all was an intricate assortment of objects at the center. Curving candelabras, topped with white sticks of tallow, encircled a large disc of rough white stone. The top of the stone was perfectly smooth, engraven with swirling designs and runic symbols. The smell of incense was heavy in the air, the smoke purplish in the dim light.

A robed man stepped out of the shadows at the edge of the room, his face hidden behind the folds of his hood. His robe was a creamy white, curling voilet embriodery snaking through it like spider thin veins. The king bowed to him solemnly. The shadowed figure merely nodded in return.

The robed man glided to the edge of the disc, his feet shuffling soundlessly beneath his robe. Despite the candles burning to either side of him, his face remained in total shadow.

"These are the heroes I spoke of, Patriarch. They require transportation to the castle at Wellay. They journey to save the world. Will you help them?" The king spoke reverently, his deep voice wavering slightly. The ominous figure merely nodded in response, his hood dipping slowly. An aura of mysterious power hung about him, as though the very air were awed by his presence.

"The price..." The words came slowly, croaking from unseen lips. The man's voice sounded as though it came from far away, a whisper barely heard on a twilit wind.

The king nodded hurriedly, holding out one long hand to his steward. Gerald obediantly removed something from his jacket pocket, covering it with his hands before giving it to the king. The glint of gold escaped as the king too cupped the object with both hands, holding it out before the robed figure. The Patriarch glided towards the king, one voluminous sleeve passing over Richard's hands before returning to his side. The figure returned to his place by the stone circle, waiting.

The king turned to the heroes assembled behind him, a sheen of sweat on his brow. "The Patriarch has agreed to teleport you all to Wellay. Everyone assemble on the Folded Stone, and you shall be shaking hands with Duke Chaucer before you know it." A nervous smile flickered across his face as his eyes met each of the party before him.



OOC: Phew! Long post, but it served its purpose. If everyone could please respond, ask questions or whatnot if you like, but at the very least put your character on the stone, I'll make the action post shortly. I promise a good surprise as well as a nice fight scene to get this story rolling, and after that you'll be headed on your way. Thank you all for your patience, I promise you the remainder of this story will be worth the wait! :D
Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
quirk
Member Avatar
Apprentice
James suddenly become a bit wary of what had just happened. Glancing over at the figure known as the Patriarch, he looked back over at the king. "What exactly is the Patriarch? And, perhaps more importantly, what's this price that he demanded from you?" He was worried, naturally, by what may have been done here. His tutor had taught him slightly on the darker magics which inhabited this world, and James wondered if the King would be willing to indulge in such rituals considering the state of this world.
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Colonel Mustard
Member Avatar
Lord of Facial Hair
The journey through the tunnels was not long, the way illuminated by the light of the king's torch along with the glow cast by the fires in Duhos' eyes. The Sea Elf seemed to have calmed down somewhat, and although there was an edge of uncertainty to her she seemed to go along the passage without any extra hesistation.

Finally, they emerged from the dark passageway, entering a large spacious room. Though he was no wizard, Duhos' innately magical nature could sense the power here, especially that the robed figure that shuffled forwards to greet them. Almost immediately, the Golem distrusted the man.

The king spoke to him briefly, the figure mentioning a price, before His Majesty said; "The Patriarch has agreed to teleport you all to Wellay. Everyone assemble on the Folded Stone, and you shall be shaking hands with Duke Chaucer before you know it."

It was then that the Sartherian spoke, demanding; "What exactly is the Patriach? And, perhaps more importantly, what's this price he's demanded of you?"

Duhos nodded. That, he decided, was a good question indeed.
Edited by Colonel Mustard, Sep 5 2011, 12:56 AM.
"Pillage, then burn."-Rule 1 of Habits of Highly Effective Pirates
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Ambrose51
Member Avatar
The Resident Horror Enthusiast

Matthew walked into the barren chamber behind the king, paying little attention to the conversations behind him. They didn't really matter much to him in any case. For most of the walk, he had been concentrating simply on forcing down his instinctual reaction to create flames in the dark space. The thing he saw when he finally came back out into the light didn't particularly help that reaction.

Oh, the fact that the robed figure had stepped out of the shadows meant little to him. He had dealt with these sorts of people before, the ones that tried to keep their identity hidden at all times. It was even a wise tactic, one he had used himself when it suited him. The thing that put him on was his title, Patriarch.

He loathed dealing with the Church of Light, and while he could deal with a Knight or two, a Patriarch was an entirely different matter. He let himself fade back into group, stepping away from the king in order to become less notable among the other, more interesting, figures.

He had absolutely no desire to interact at all with the man, so he let the others voice the questions that were spinning in his head as well. If they were leaving under the supervision of that man, he suddenly wasn't sure that he wanted to continue on at all. There were few people he was willing to trust, but also few people he blatantly distrusted. Any member of the Church of Light with such a high rank automatically fell into the latter category. So, until some of those questions were at least given a token answer, he refused to possibly put his life into the robed figure's hands.
But mostly? The assorted plans at play here would be going very, very wrong due to the actions of a no-name, no-count, utterly talentless Magus by the name of Shirou Emiya. He had no magic worth mentioning, no combat experience of note, and no plan for or knowledge of the War he was about to enter. He did, however, have one trait that had derailed a countless number of such grand, far-reaching schemes throughout history.

You see, he really, really wanted to be a hero. -(Best description of the start of a Fate novel ever.)
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Crimson Paladin
Novice
Garnier stepped out of the passage into a room, mostly featureless other than windows letting in sunlight. A secret room that lets in the sunlight. That's quite fitting. Before he could think any more about that, his attention was drawn to the a man stepping out of a shadow. He instantly recognized the man's robes; this was a Patriarch of the Church. He silently removed his helmet in respect, just as the king spoke.

"These are the heroes I spoke of, Patriarch. They require transportation to the castle at Wellay. They journey to save the world. Will you help them?"

"The price..." replied the Patriarch. Garner could see the king hand a bag to the man. That's odd, I thought the church was sponsoring this mission. The bag exchanged hands and the king turned back towards the group.

"The Patriarch has agreed to teleport you all to Wellay. Everyone assemble on the Folded Stone, and you shall be shaking hands with Duke Chaucer before you know it."

Garnier began to step forward, eagar to get moving. As he moved to the front of the group, one of the others, James, spoke.

"What exactly is the Patriach? And, perhaps more importantly, what's this price he's demanded of you?" Garnier stopped. He turned to the king for a response, as it was not his place to give it, even if he could answer part of the question. And he was curious about the price.
The stone cannot know why the chisel cleaves it;
the iron cannot know why the fire scorches it.
When thy life is cleft and scorched, when death and despair leap at thee,
beat not thy breast and curse thy evil fate,
but thank the Builder for the trials that shape thee.

-The Hammer Book of Tenets
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
Darkom
Member Avatar
Philosophizer

OOC: Action post commencing!

Teleporter Room; Mid-Morning, March 1st, 1066 AL

"What exactly is the Patriarch?" One of the heroes, the Sartherian, spoke, an edge of suspicion to his voice. "And, perhaps more importantly, what's this price that he demanded from you?"

The king looked at the outspoken man in near shock; to question the Patriarch was above even his power. The King of Sunkeep was, by name, master of the Church, but the real power behind the theocracy came mostly from the robed figure standing across from the assemblage. The Patriarch himself remained motionless; even the rise and fall of his breathing was hidden by the pale robes he wore.

"I apologize," Richard began worriedly, turning to the mysterious figure, "They have travelled far to reach Sunkeep, they do not know of our customs." The king turned back to the band of heroes, his gaze falling on the Sartherian that spoke out. "Our Patriarch is a devoted servant of Her will, and one of the highest members of the Church. They devote themselves so completely to filling others with the Light, they forgo its touch themselves. The common people live every day in the warmth of the Goddess, unappreciative. As some men abstain from food or women for their faith, our most pious Patriarch fasts from sunlight itself." The king finished his lecture with a tone of awe, bowing to the hooded figure before returning his gaze to the men and women before him.

"And as for the price of your passage, rest assured it has nothing to do with you, or your quest," Richard clipped off dismissively, brooking no debate. "Now, if you will all please mount the Folding Stone..." The king gestured towards the large disc, his usually smiling face serious now. 'Don't they see what's really important here?'

OOC: Little bit of character control, just to get things moving. Hope no one minds. From here on out I am officially winging it; do not be surprised if this ends badly. :P




Once the party had gathered on top of the swirling images carved into the Folding Stone, the Patriarch spoke once more, his voice a shallow whisper. "Travel with the Light..." The ominous man lifted his robed arms slowly, the folds of creamy fabric falling to reveal wrinkled, ghostly hands. The priest's fingers were splayed and crooked, his yellowed nails long and pointed. Between two pale fingers he held a small, glowing, golden orb. With a slow, creaking motion he drew the sphere of luminous material to the darkness covering his face, the glow blinking out as it passed the umbra of his hood. After a slow, sickly gulp, the Patriarch withdrew his hand, empty now, and raised it back to the ceiling.

Almost immediately, the skin covering the priest's hands began to writhe and shift. The wrinkles smoothed, the dark veins disappeared, and the crooked bend to the Patriarch's fingers straightened. In mere moments, his hands went from the decrepit paws of an ancient hermit to the dextrous tools of a man in his prime. As the transformation completed, a deep hum sounded from within the Patriarch's hood, growing louder as it filled the room. The room darkened as the candles flickered out, one by one, and the sunlight overhead dimmed, as if it were late evening instead of near noon. Then, suddenly, the carvings within the Folding Stone began to glow, tracing themselves in pure, white light. The swirls and symbols grew brighter as the room around them seemed to dim, until the only light came from their glow, casting tall, unnatural shadows on the room's stone walls.

The Patriarch's humming grew louder. The robed figure had almost disappeared into the new darkness; just as he seemed ready to vanish entirely, two circles of white light burst forth from the shadow beneath his hood. The priest's eyes shone like beacons in the dark, casting the heroes' faces in their eerie radiance. Then, like a low rumble of the earth, deeper even than the golem's voice, the Patriarch began to chant. "Almighty Goddess, Mother of the world, grant Your Light to these unworthy children. Wrap them in Your embrace, take them far from here, to the Castle of Wellay. Lady of Creation, grant us-"

"NO!" A sudden, fiery voice broke the Patriarch's spell. Stepping out of the shadows, into the circle of white light surrounding the Folding Stone, Gerald's face was a mask of horrific rage. "YOU SHALL GO NOWHERE!" The voice issuing from the steward's mouth was not his own; it grated from his throat like a dying scream, echoing in the room's shadows, screeching as it touched the light. "SHE IS GONE, AND THE OTHER WILL NOT SAVE YOU! YOU WILL NOT STOP ME!"

The king watched in horror as his servant, a man he had known nearly all his life, floated into the air, his eyes shining with a dark inferno of hatred. In the strange glow of the Folding Stone, his skin had grown a pallid white, like that of a corpse. His smart white coat had been stained black by the shadows, corrupted by the Dark within him. With a twisted, glowing smile, Gerald threw his thin arms wide. "THE CYCLE WILL BE COMPLETED!" A final scream burst forth from his lips as his narrow, pale body began to convulse in the air. Then, suddenly, his tidily buttoned undershirt broke open, his ribcage snapping loudly as his chest was rent in half. Tar black blood spewed from the bloody viscera of organs within, staining the floor within the circle of light.

As the mangled corpse of the servant fell to the ground, the blood surrounding the heroes began to bubble and spit. The puddles flowed together like pitch black quicksilver, growing into discs of darkness within the shadows. The Patriarch, his eyes still aglow, watched in startled terror. "By the Goddess, I command this spawn of Darkness to-" The robed priest's words, now the strong timbre of a normal man, were cut short as hands erupted out of the black discs, followed by the heads and bodies of shadowy knights. The unholy warriors were perfect silhouttes of soldiers in full battle armor, complete with long black swords ready in their hands.

The nearest of these struck out with its shadowy blade, driving the pitch black tip through the stomach of the startled King Richard. His bearded face formed an O of surprise in the white light from the Folding Stone, his azure eyes filled with terror as he realized his fate. "The Lady save us-" Richard's final words bubbled from his lips as the midnight warrior drew its blade from the king's body, leaving him to fall limply to the stone floor.



OOC: Phew, that was certainly interesting. Not as good as I'd like it to have been, but it accomplishes its purpose. Gerald exploded after the Lord of the Dark possessed him, and his blood and intestines turned into Shadow Knights. Respond however you will, but the other creatures will be attacking you shortly. Feel free to have your character interject in the spaces between what my NPCs said, so long as it doesn't change what I wrote. I know it was a long time to be silent, but I wanted to move things along while I have the chance.

Like I said, respond how you will. Attack the Shadow Knights, try to save the dying king, what have you. Once this little battle is concluded we'll still be teleporting to Wellay; hopefully the Patriarch will survive to get us there. In the meantime, have fun showing off your skills; assume there is at least one enemy per hero. ;) Thanks for putting up with my procrastination; I hope it was worth it. :P

By the way, keep in mind that the whole room is dark beyond a circle of light surrounding the Folding Stone. The Patriarch is just at the edge of it, while the Shadow Knights are currently still between it and the full darkness beyond. Everyone is standing on the stone itself, so you are back to back against a ring of enemies. And if you do want to carry combat further than the first move be my guest, the only thing I was going to add was the Knights disappearing back into the complete darkness if they get hit, only to reappear moments later from a different angle. When they do retreat, you really can't see them, except for maybe Victoria (Speaking of, they have no brains, so any mind control won't work. They do have a dark aura you'd be able to sense if you're a mage though). Physical attacks won't do a whole lot of good, unless you can hit the focal point at their core. Just a heads up. ;)
Edited by Darkom, Sep 11 2011, 09:15 PM.
Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain
Offline Profile Quote Post Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
ZetaBoards - Free Forum Hosting
ZetaBoards gives you all the tools to create a successful discussion community.
Learn More · Register Now
Go to Next Page
« Previous Topic · General Roleplaying · Next Topic »
Add Reply