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| The Quest for the Lost God; Chapter One: The Heroes of All World | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 20 2011, 03:36 PM (2,465 Views) | |
| Ambrose51 | Nov 6 2011, 04:34 PM Post #81 |
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The Resident Horror Enthusiast
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OOC: Hah, worry not, Crimson. You can always say you're not as bad as me. IC: Matthew backed up to the folding stone, running through is mental list of appropriate spells, when the barrier went up. He watched the shadow warriors surge against it, battering relentlessly at the only thing separating them from an eventual victory. Matthew glanced across at the floating woman that was keeping them at bay, and hoped only that she could keep the barrier up long enough for them to escape. As it stood, he was better off simply waiting, than trying to help, since he had no idea what form the woman's magic took, and interfering might simply cause problems. All things considered, he was ridiculously calm, considering they at a point of living or dying. Smiling bitterly, Matthew supposed that this would probably at least be a quick death, if they failed. Even so, he had no wish to die. Don't fail us now, Patriarch. Show us that you can do your duty. |
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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.) | |
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| Darkom | Nov 8 2011, 12:57 PM Post #82 |
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Philosophizer
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OOC: I think we're all getting pretty tired of this room. I'll make one final GM post- apologies in advance for the character control, you know you can change anything you'd like with regards to your own character in your post- and we'll head on to Wellay. Teleporter Room; Noon, March 1st, 1066 AL The chant was everything. The Patriarch bellowed out his spell, pronouncing each ancient syllable carefully, yet with as much speed as he dared. One misplaced word could send them all into oblivion, entombing them hundreds of feet beneath the ground, or miles beyond the shadowy mountains that marked the border of the Dark Lord's territory. He had completed almost two thirds of the incantation now, but the Kriem girl's barrier would not hold much longer. That much even he could see. The others could do little but wait, their weapons still held at the ready, as the Shadow Knights beat relentlessly against the invisible wall. The psychic barrier was all that kept them at bay now; if it failed, the demons would swarm over them in moments. The girl herself was lost in concentration, but her eyes glowed a furious purple beneath their half closed lids. Her veins pulsed beside the glowing tattoos that traced her body, incandescent in the wavering darkness. The Patriarch intoned his spell furiously, his own glowing eyes aflame with white hot light. 'Almost there,' he thought desparately, glancing back at the Kriem girl. 'Just hold on!' But the psychic was at her limit. Two streams of blood ran down her face, falling like tears from her glowing eyes. Her thin body convulsed in the air, shaking with the effort of holding the field up, but the Dark Lord's creatures would not relent. The Patriarch's words grew more rapid, throwing away all caution; if he did not send them now, they would all die regardless. With a final scream, the psychic girl fell, her body crumpling against the hard contours of the Folding Stone. A rush of air exploded outwards, throwing the Shadow Knights backwards into the darkness. The girl's form dimmed, the purple glow fading like the dying embers of a flame. The old priest could only watch in horror as her chest rose one final time. 'No!' But it was too late; the barrier was broken, and he could already see the monstrous outlines stirring in the shadows. The Patriarch's voice was hoarse, but still the incantation streamed from his lips, echoing within the stone chamber. His words had reached a fever pitch, a stream of words too fast to follow. The heroes braced themselves for the onrush of Shadow Knights. The old priest raised his hands to the room's vaulted ceiling, lost somewhere in the darkness above. 'This must work!' He spoke the final words of that ancient spell, his voice booming, and the Folding Stone's glow grew suddenly brighter. A shaft of light shot upwards from the floor, casting the whole of the chamber into a sudden white. The pitch black demons rushed forwards, their blades stabbing wildly into the Folding Stone's light. A sudden noise, like the crash of a hundred thunderbolts, tore through the chamber. Blinding whiteness enveloped the heroes, casting them up, up, away from the nightmare of the Dark Lord's minions. Sight, sound, and direction were lost in that all encompassing light. Then, just as suddenly, the heroes crashed against the hard ground. The blue sky loomed above them, fluffy clouds floating lazily on a salty breeze. The sound of surf crashing against the beach drove out the deafening thunder. Wet, packed sand shifted underneath their feet as the heroes looked around. The ocean stretched out, endless, before them; fishing boats dotted the horizon, but otherwise, they were entirely alone. They had survived. The Patriarch's spell had worked. Any happiness at their narrow escape, however, was shortlived. The lifeless corpse of the King of Sunkeep lay bleeding on the sand; beside him, the cold body of the Kriem psychic was huddled, her eyes staring blankly out at sea. Finally, a few feet away, sat the Patriarch, his heavy robes stained crimson by the bleeding wound in his chest. His hood was thrown back, revealing the wrinkled face of an ancient man, frozen in shock. His cracked lips mouthed one final phrase before those sunken eyes grew dim. "Praise the Goddess..." OOC: Phew, apologies for the long post, but I'm glad we're finally out of that mess. As I said, we escaped, but we lost Victoria, King Richard, and the Patriarch. Evil's character never made it through the teleportation, so she is gone as well. The rest of us are on the beach of Wellay, and will shortly see a large castle on a hilltop behind the beach, past a large stretch of forest. Once everyone posts their reaction to the teleportation and deaths, we can timeskip our way there and be on our way. As I said, I will begin recruiting again for more players, as our number seems to have dwindled. If any of you can think of anyone that may be interested, please try to contact them. We can still make this thing work, and I feel like it still has a lot of potential behind it. Thanks to everyone for coming this far with us; I'm sure it will only get better from here.
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| Don't say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream. ~Mark Twain | |
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| Crimson Paladin | Nov 19 2011, 04:13 AM Post #83 |
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OOC: Sorry for taking so long. So much has been happening. And right now I'm immenselly frustrated by being unable to play either Skyrim or Star Wars: The Old Republic. Hope enough people are still willing to continue. They were no longer in hidden castle room, the Patriarch's spell had worked. Garnier rose to his feet and looked around. The demonhost wasn't there. He rushed over to the fallen king, to try and heal him further, but it was no use, the king had passed on. Nearby, the psion and patriarch also dead. The paladin dropped his sword, in shock. Two of the Church's most revered leaders were dead, and two of the others did not make it. "The king and Patriarch, they're both dead. And I don't think we ended up at our intended destination," he said worriedly. |
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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 | |
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2:39 PM Jul 11