Umbral ⊱ Kingdom of Shadows [ O/A ]

[stillnohero]

Heras Box

OutlawD One

Reader of Omens

Legendary Sauce

[Legendary Sauce]

Reader of Omens

Noctem Silverfire

(You guys didn't wanna play nice and have this go smoothly so ******** it. This is what I get for trying to be diplomatic...)

"Be silent." Celebrembar lifted his hand, and one of his runes rippled over in arcane dissonance, azure synergy silently pluming around his forearm in pulsing waves of necrotic light that slithered around him like liquid serpents, his cowl temporarily billowing at the subtle show of foul aura. He could have crushed the man. Made his limbs turn to ash and his mind turn to bubbling oil that would have blistered from his eye sockets in heaving cascades of crimson and black. But he held his talons low, and as soon as the magic had breathed into essence, it had passed, and so had Celebrembar's sudden hatred. He didn't want to start melting faces immediately. He would give them a chance at redemption. He lowered his hand and the aura dissipated, his third rune of power dialing down in seething light.

"Your tongue speaks faster than a thought, as you've feign to think before speaking. Arrogant, blibbering, child. I come with request for rightful lineage and you speak as if I am a jester among this court of Ire?" Immediately the Viperbranch sizzled through the air back into the mighty Wraith's grip, the immense sword screaming within it's sheath for soul and bone. The wraith hadn't expected to be bawked at as some lark who instigated with reckless abandon. And now they spoke gravely towards him, as if they had authority over his dwelling. He turned his head to the supposed king and listened whilst stroking his chin, the Viperbranch laid across his knees laxly; he didn't plan on killing everyone in the room just yet. When the king spoke, the wraith listened intently. He was, for the most part, completely taken aback by the high brow manner the king carried. Celebrembar had conquered worlds. This man spoke like a pampered dog. The wraith had sacrificed everything for his homeworld, and lost his immortal soul in the process. This man would doubtfully break a nail for his sister, let alone give his life for the Umbral. But give his life he most certainly would if the wraith had anything to say about it. Such an offering of the Viperbranch so overzealously turned down, as if it was some paltry gift to shift through paperwork over and file names within to figure and fact check and bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. The wraith was violently angry now, his aura notably blackening at it's tresses, like the crinkling of a swiftly burning leaf. He stood at the end of the king's ludicrous words, and in one practiced motion unsheathed the Viperbranch.

Immediately, a gravity fell over the room, and the sword spoke utterances of demonic incantation that shook the very stonework of the tower itself. Apparitions of the souls it had devoured wandered out from it's phantasmal length, ethereally chained to it's hilt as they begged in ghostly whispers for mercy. Several would tug at the king's garments, the air loosely stirring around him as the number of souls increased, until thousands of meandering spirits wandered the decadent meeting hall, screaming and crying and banging, poltergeists and the like shrieking in agony from eons of unending torture from within the realm of the Viperbranch. It was not a mere sword.

Swiftly arcing the blade to face the King of the Umbral, Celebrembar appeared as he truly was; a demon in black garb, hovering nearly eight feet tall with a blade of equal height held out with ease in his left grip. He did not speak or attack, but kept the point aimed, his arm never faltering with it's incredible weight, meta-physical or otherwise.

"Do not think this is a mere show for your amusement, boy. I give you one, and only one reason to heed my words: I am from beyond the time of recording, beyond trivial commonalities and fluffy antiquated niceties. When one offers the power of a Planeswalker, the other does not deny such. To spit on such a clean, offering...Ha! You failed my test."

"It is obvious you are too weak, to rule the Umbral. Too weak to see the power of the Viperbranch before your very eyes. I had hoped to end this madness. The madness within me by handing away that which drives me to ruin. And yet you cannot save me from it. You deny it, like a fool unto his own mess..."

"...And so I must usurp you."

Immediately semi-solid phantasms erupted from the blade's aura, and seven true wraiths in differing garb spilled out from it's end in swirling masses of black magic. Each wielded a tool of war, and each appeared as tall if not larger than Celebrembar himself. They were his stolen generals, the seized souls of conquered rulers who had fought and failed against his once army of endless abominations. Now they stood in wrought iron spirit-mail and wielded ghastly tools of otherworldly war under the banner of Ool, God of the undead. Two held massive poison tipped spears with gnarled, twisted ends for rending and slashing apart. These specific two stood at their commander's side, the other five fanning out in a wide half circle so as to prevent any attempt at exiting the room. Celebrembar would keep the Viperbranch pointed right at the king's throat, all the while speaking black speech to summon even more tangible spirits of Ool. He hadn't wanted to strike so soon, but they had allowed him up easily enough, and with the four of his eight runes of power he held a considerable chance of victory, given that his fourth rune was the tome of summoning. He had wanted to hand away his curse and be freed of this vessel, but without a worthy heir to harness it's unholy energies, Celebrembar would be forced to do as he had done for eons untold.

Rule, with vicious, irrevocable malice.

"You're going to wish you had taken the blade, child of man. Now bend the knee, and I may spare you and your insignificant family to a life of dungeon borne seclusion."

[Heras Box]

Attention

The wraith is now the villain to the plot. His power comes from the weapon, which is technically allowed seeing as it appears to be the loop hole to having power in the castle.

Also note, the wraith is deranged and believes he is the rightful ruler.

Carry on.

[stillnohero]

OOC: I think it's Omens' turn?

[Witch_of_the_Web]

((Ooooookay, this time I really am going to post consistently. I'm going to just act like Lillian stepped off the grid for awhile.))

It never failed, Lillian thought as she strode down the hall towards the conference room. Every time she so much as thought to herself that things could not possibly get any worse, some mysterious force crawled out of the cosmos to prove her wrong. Now it was shades, of all things! She could hear them all the way from the infirmary, along with the Black Speech that her kind only mentioned in whispers. The sound that usually heralded someone powerful, convinced of their own superiority, and utterly out of their mind. The Powers That Be had lousy timing, and an even worse sense of humor.

She stomped across the floor, not even remotely concerned with trying to maintain civility for the servants anymore. The realm was up to its eyeballs in undead, and not one of them was hers. She REFUSED to stand for it any longer. The minute she found whatever half-witted smartass had decided that they could just march in and redecorate the place with the shrouds and moans of the unhappily departed and leave her out of it, she would tear their fundaments off, stuff them in their mouth, and then feed the whole mess to that thrice-damned dragon.

At last the spidery kindred rounded the corner, and upon seeing the open doors to the chamber she made ready to give this latest interloper a very big peice of her mind, Vanity's-insistence-on-politeness be-damned. Except instead of a power-drunken shell of a mortal waving around a shiny forbidden text that he could only read through natural talent, she found herself staring at the inky black depths of the biggest wraith she had ever seen. The terrible shade stood at the center of a vortex of similar creatures, and their fetters were firmly in his grasp. His to own, his to command.

Suddenly, Lillian felt very small.

The Powers That Be truly did have an outrageously poor sense of humor. And unless she was mistaken, one of them had just drifted through the front door. Well, who was she to argue with that? It was a big realm, and if she disengaged in time she and Vanity might actually make it over the wall before the wraith had a chance to get serious about conquest ...

... except the queen was in the conference room, and the only exit was through the wraith.

Lillian raised her trembling hands, gesturing towards the fetters of the souls, the ethereal forces that bound their will to the wraith's.

The room's occupants would hear a low chant, barely audible over the baleful moans of the tormented souls, but carrying through the din with a singleminded purpose. The words spoke of chains strained by the force of years and rusted spikes pulled from crumbling walls. It was not a spell of healing, nor did it promise freedom; it was a sorrowful sound, filled with the dread of prisoners set free in a world that has forgotten them, to be snatched back up either by their former captors or some new horror. If the spell succeeded, the wraith's control over his lesser spirits, and perhaps even his greater ones, would waver, if temporarily.

And as the chant reached its end, it would rise in pitch and volume. Whether this change constitued a fervent battle cry or a shriek of pure terror would be left to the listeners' judgement.

[Legendary Sauce]

The_Scarlet_Widow

Celebrembar was surging with unholy strength. Maddened with disillusioned thoughts of grandeur the wraith allowed the Viperbranch to fully cloud his mind. He would give into it's power, and once more cleave a meta-physical wound into this world the likes of which no one had ever had the eyes to witness. Tendrils of charred blackness shook out from the ends of his ruined cloak like hundreds of writhing serpents, and to stare upon him would be like one gazing into a true abyss, though this particular abyss certainly gazed back. He was a dark hole of incorporeal necromancy, his generals of unclean origin raising up their spectral arms, readying once more to do as their most hated liege commanded. Three of the five not immediately present beside the wraith wielded gigantic two handed swords with jagged edges that looked only usable in warfare and the rending of flesh from bone. They stood ominous and unwavering at the main exit's opening, their blades at the ready to strike down any who would dare cross their obvious threshold. The other two who were apart from the group wielded differing weaponry, a curiosity given their seemingly uniform appearance...

One wielded an ornate morning star, it's killing end melded in the likeness of a screaming skull coated in barbaric spikes. It was hooded and seething, and as it passed the long table to stand toe to toe with Noctem, a very real chill would creep out from it's impossibly black aura. Was this being ever human? And if so, how had it's soul been so corrupted, so viciously warped by a simple blade? Maybe Celebrembar wasn't the true master of this nefarious plot, but the puppet the Viperbranch needed to continue harvesting souls?

Time would certainly tell, but only if the heroes stood firm against this seemingly impossible foe!

The other wore a red cloak, and it's blade was a broken one, jagged and rusted. This one bore a golden mask where only it's bottom lip and scruffed chin could be viewed, and though it wore the cloak of a wraith it did not appear so. He was shorter than the others, and walked instead of hovering...

It struggled against it's bonds, and Celebrembar lashed out at it, cracking it down to one knee with a tendril from another plane. It screamed out, and the Lord wraith closed it's fist, forcing it to kneel even further to the ground. It screamed out, wrapped fingers clinging to it's suffocating robes as if to tear them away, but it could not. It threw away it's sword only to have the blade return to it's hand roughly, as if by way of nefarious curse. It would be forced to fight regardless of it's intentions..

"You see, even the strongest soul cannot hope to defend against the Viperbranch. Behold, the Son of Malfurion, the once king of Urzgo-Dan! My slave. My puppet...Now...Rise."

The masked wraith was about to raise up when a subtle voice from behind perked it's interest. It felt it's bindings loosen, the eternal tie to the Viperbranch momentarily quelled! The other wraiths felt it too, but they were too far gone to even think of defiance against their horrible master, and instead the five blade wielding boogeymen turned to face the simple woman at the peak of her incantation...

"Run! Run for your lives!"

The red cloaked wraith ripped up from it's knees and charged Celebrembar. "Now you shall face Malfurion!" It slammed it's blade into one of the spear wielding wraiths. It parried off of the wraith's defensive maneuver and countered with a vicious downward slash, slaying the being with a single well timed blow. Celebrembar screeched and slammed a hard uppercut into the son of Malfurion, ripping the Viperbranch down in an arc that cracked the very fabric of space and time. The masked warrior fell back, holding a hand up to keep from gazing into the soul sucking portal the Viperbranch was opening up...

"The sword! It tis the blade that gives him power!"

Celebrembar flashed forward, and smashed the son of Malfurion away with a simple swipe of his talons. The red cloaked being was sent flying across the room, shattering a coat of arms upon the far wall where he landed unmoving, completely knocked out by the sundering blow.

Now would be the time to strike!

[Reader of Omens]

The_Scarlet_Widow

Heras Box

OutlawD One"

Legendary Sauce

Peccaminous Peregrine

When Celembremar entered, everything seemed to happen at once. The Viperbranch, that wicked tool that practically radiated evil from it's very core, seemed to move from floating above Oracle to now being pointed directly at his son. Then the summonings happened and portals of darkness blacker than the stone that made up the Castle began to open up as the runic symbols on the Wraithlord's blade began to grow. The Seer's eyes narrowed in response. So, that was how he had managed to arrive in the Castle with the full might of his powers in tact. A good loophole, and one that he would have to rectify once things were dealt with here. The black speech that filled the room would have chilled the spine of lesser men, but it took a lot to get a rise out of Oracle. It seemed all consuming until, of course, the voice of the Duchess could be heard among the moans of the damned. That brought a smile to his lips. With Lillian here, the Undead would be far less of a problem than before.

The main concern now were the closing of the portals and minimizing the threats that had to be dealt with in the conference room. At that he turned to the Pendragon brothers, "Gentlemen, I understand that this is not your fight and respect your right to stay out of it. I can even spirit you both to a place away from here that is safe from harm if you so desire. However, I must still ask for you assistance in this matter, as Celembremar threatens us all." Plus, Oracle highly doubted that the Wraithlord wouldn't turn his attention to them once he thought Nox and his family were finished off. They were, after all, trying to negotiate with what he saw as pretenders to his throne, and Oracle had seen enough of Celembremar's type to know that it didn't end so well. Now all that mattered was to reassign one of his other allies that he had mistakenly sent out of the room, "Regina, dearest, there is trouble and your skills will be required in the fight. I sense that Trent is back in the Castle and will send him to guard Rose and the children." With his other tasks accomplished, the focus could now be given to the Wraith and his minions.

Oracle's attention was focused solely on the portals that brought the beings into the realm and knew that without attacking the blade the Wraith would continue to summon more of his ilk. His suspicions were confirmed from one of the man's previous slaves who had been freed by Lillian's counterspell. Immediately the air around the Seer began to blister and boil as silver flames wreathed his body, licking the surface of various items but never burning them. Any of the wraiths who came into contact with the flames, however, would be disintegrated, for this was no normal flame. This silver flame was concentrated magic and designed specifically for dealing with mystical and supernatural energies. It burned the essence of magic out of a creature, and for things like wraiths and undead, that was the only thing keeping them together. He gestured a finger at the portals that were opening up as gouts of his flame leaped towards them, and unless measures were taken to prevent against hostile energies, the would latch on to the edges of the portal and begin to burn away the energies keeping them open. It was likely that sealing the portals would be a temporary measure, at least for now, until steps could be taken to destroy the sword. With the portals sealing, Oracle began gathering the energy for another spell. He was focusing on the magical portion of his abilities, as he knew that there were far better warriors in the room than he, so he stuck to what he was good at. The energy itself was very telling, as a sort of presence seemed to fall about the room. Those who were sensitive to such things would hear the faint humming and feel the brief serenity that came with conjuring holy magic. The Seer had made himself a target for the Undead...and that was precisely the point.

[Reader of Omens]

((I'll give others a chance to post before I write up one for Nox.))

[Heras Box]

Since arriving at the nursery with her daughter, Gina had taken to holding her other babies and cradling them affectionately. Rose played with the others when her mother was not otherwise busy with them. It was an odd thing for her to see her siblings, knowing she was that little but hours ago but having memories of a life. Still the red headed princess didn't let it show. When Gina heard the mental call from Oracle she paused in what she was doing to stare at the floor for a moment. "Rose, dear, take your brother. I am needed elsewhere it seems." Smiling at her children she would wait until her daughter took the babe before she decided to move.

When she was free to do as she pleased without endangering her brood, the Queen would take a step outside and close the door. Beyond that there were no footsteps. Instead of taking the long walk to where she came, Gina decided to use the shadows. Risky, right? She had enough power to pull at the thread that bound her to the Seer and simply step into a hall shadow and step from the shadow of the man. Once more inside the meeting room where things were taking place she would look around for a spell before letting her eyes fall on the being responsible. There was a demonic chatter that seemed to tug at her ears and even caused the silver haired queen to give a little smirk, which then widened when she heard Lillian's voice.

"Oh, Oracle, you shouldn't have..." Leveling her gaze at the wraith that seemed to have command of the floor she would arch a single brow. "I cannot speak for our guests, but my husband and I are no children of man." As if to highlight this fact the otherwise beautiful woman allowed her appearance to change. Where Oracle's eyes were pure silver, hers were a pure malignant, dark purple and her teeth would show their true nature of pointed double fangs. It wasn't for show, though it would have been a nice one, it was part of her unleashing the power within her. Instinct told her how to move and she did as it said. Only problem was, the darkness, the evil in the room would cause Regina to become... dangerous to most.

[stillnohero]

Seriously? This detroyer of worlds ******** just started spitting out random energy beings, souls even? Obviously he didn't recall any occurrences from the forest. That and he said quite a few times, or at least referred to himself, as The Devourer. Not to mention his own special sword that had proved it's worth against the The Viperbranch. Still, it was an interesting enough weapon to crave, at least for studying purposes. Though the power came at a cost of losing one's self. No different than the fabled Caster Sword crafted by the Pendragon Clan themselves. Though that was a long long time before Xartia and Orphen were in the picture. Regardless, The Enchiridion already told the brothers more than enough about weapons like these, and how they were worth nothing in the end. For once you grasped the power you so dearly wished for, you were no longer conscious as a being capable of using that power yourself.

"Come to me, Seiðmaðr!" ~

He remarked as he stood from his chair, his emerald green eyes narrowed as he held his sadistic Cheshire grin. His not so normal Viking sword appeared in a blossom of gold light that shaped the blade, only to shatter away from the blade like silent glass, the actual sword left in the wake of the cast before it. This sword was capable of driving it's user mad as well, though to the Cambion whom had practically mastered it, that threat was alleviated. ""Your call dearest brother, shall we help the people of Umbral, though they are yet to be considered allies? I mean, I'm no warrior first, we both know that, and I'm certainly not a hero, I wasn't even as much in the Gaian Fighters....However I'm always hungry for power, and thought you've been stuffing your face, I've been fasting. Saving space for the chance to have a shot at my real meal again....However, it seems Umbral just open up an all you can eat buffet, exclusively to me.""

As he spoke telepathically to his twin, Xartia kept his eyes mostly on Celebrembar as he awaited a reply. His sword coming to him was merely a matter of defending himself should the need arise. He even pulled two of those illustrious Materia from the Great Aether as an extra precaution, and at no cost to him. He was honestly more likely to leave, to bow out and be gone. Though unless his brother was leaving, he really couldn't go. Not like he cared much either way. He just felt like he had gotten dirty enough for one day, and he wasn't looking forward to soiling more of his clothes. Not that he couldn't fix them up later, it was the principle of the act. He liked looking his best, all the time. Orphen should have had a sister. Or maybe technically that's what he actually had. Almost anyway.

MP: 25 (-3)
Materia: 0 (+2)

The_Scarlet_Widow

Heras Box

OutlawD One

Legendary Sauce

Reader of Omens

[Reader of Omens]

xxxxxxxxxxxNoctem→ King of Umbral

→ To think of shadows is a serious thing.

▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀

Once Celembremar drew his sword, things seemed to go to Hell all at once. Well, not really Hell, since he'd been there plenty of times. More like...chaos. Portals were being opened, monsters were coming through, and his dad seemed to be working some kind of crazy magic. A small smile crept across his face as he watched the goings on, not concerned at all with the Wraith's blade to his throat. Things were finally starting to get interesting in these 'negotiations.' He heard the chanting of the Duchess as she worked to free the Wraith's undead from his control, which would give them the advantage. That Lillian, always thinking ahead. He was glad that she was on their side, honestly, as she was a force to be reckoned with in her own right. What worried him, however, was that he could feel his wife unleashing the full force of her power. That...wasn't good. Nox and his father weren't sure what the upper-limits of her abilities were, and given what went into her creation he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to find out.

Still, that would have to wait, as there was business to attend to. Flicking his wrist, a blade of black steel that coruscated with shadow energy appeared in his hand, which he used to parry the large halberd of the enslaved wraith right near him. With a roll of his shoulders, the long jacket he had been wearing came off so that his shoulders would have their full range of motion. With his coat off, the Wraithlord would see that his previous assessment of the 'boy king' had been wrong. This man was built like a warrior, and he had the scars to prove it. As the jacket fell, Nox gave it a kick towards one of the Lieutenant creatures behind him. As it flew through the air, it began to swirl and expand until it became obvious that this was no ordinary jacket...it was a portal. The doorway to the darkness between realms, a void that Nox himself controlled, swirled towards the creature and would absorb him into it if steps weren't taken to avoid or prevent it. Unfortunately, such a gate would only house one creature, so it was better not to waste it on a common soldier.

Then he turned his attention to the creature in front of him and brought his blade to bare, "Have at thee, lummox." He wanted to fight the Wraithlord, but this monster was in the way first, and the red cloaked figure seemed to have the man's attention for the time being. As his purple gaze drifted about the battle field, it became clear that they were a little outnumbered. But Nox could fix that. With his free hand, he moved and placed it on the table next to him as a runic sigil began to glow. It would look similar to the summoning rune that Celembremar had used, because it filled a similar purpose. The Wraith was not the only one with a hidden army of supernatural creatures at his command. The only difference is that unlike Celembremar, Nox had no dominion over the Shades that poured forth from the walls and floors. No, these spirits of the soldiers who had died in Umbral over the centuries bound themselves that way so that they could serve their friend even in death. These shades were here, to fight or die, of their own free will. And there were hundreds of them...

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The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow

[OutlawD One]

Peccaminous Peregrine

Reader of Omens

Heras Box

Ooc:Sorry its been such a long wait. Glad you skipped me, life's been hella busy lately.

Orphen looked to Oracle and Nox with a nod and then Hartia with a grin.

"I hate to get involved in Kingdom matters but since we're invited!"

Standing from his seat Orphen took hold of the Axe of Perun causing white lighting to erupt up his gauntlet covered arm. When the bolts came in contact with the Hercules Gauntlets the following surges took on a golden red color.

The action had already begun and Orphen bounced with excite as he gained a way to work off his frustration.

[stillnohero]

OOC: I still get to wait for everyone else to post. 3nodding

[Reader of Omens]

Peccaminous Peregrine

Legendary Sauce

((You can go next after Sauce. And it's his turn))

[Legendary Sauce]

Celebrembar cackled like a madman upon the ends of his own fraying sanity, lost in the pleasure and broken promise of his own evil strength. The silver flame that neared him, instead of burning or searing his foul essence into brittle nothingness, simply dissipated with a pulse of his incredibly dense aura, snuffed out not by an opposite force, but by an overwhelming tide of darkness, much like a brilliant flame overrun by relentless waves. Yes, Oracle's flames held great, undead searing power, but Celebrembar was an ancient being of unending black knowledge, capable of warding against the strongest of magicks. It would take a physical confrontation to fell the insane Lord wraith, not one of arcane tricks and potent sorcery.

"Pathetic." He sneered, and with a flick of his Void Cutter the flames nearing his portals simply ceased to exist, sucked into the dimension of the Viperbranch where the white hot energy would burn itself out upon the nothing of an endless black hole within the legendary weapon's personal pocket dimension. With the light turn of his sword also came incredible destruction, the large dining room table exploding in half down the middle from end to end, candle stands and banners erupting, corrupting, and ultimately bursting into soul rending death fire all around, smog of another realm slamming over the room as more and more wraith borne slaves tumbled into the ever escalating melee from his portals low...

The wraiths crashed into the wall of Nox's minions, and a clash occurred between the two forces that rippled the space between in rapid explosions of steel upon blackened steel, shield and bone rending from clothe and stitched arcana as the two opposing companies tore into one another like savage animals. The huge wraiths slid their blades and axes and spears down in relentless, indefatigable assaults that crushed back the shades that Nox had so foolishly summoned forth, and two of Celebrembar's wraiths screamed out as they were outnumbered, circled down, and felled in screaming waves of silver fire and ravenous warrior shades. Celebrembar idly hovered with his Viperbranch propped over his shoulder all the while, snuffing at the sight before raising his right gauntlet, a word of Power rolling off of his tongue towards the army of shades bursting out from Nox's portal from off and away. The fool would learn he had made a grave and terrible mistake by slinging his own brand of dark magic at the demonic entity, for the Lord Wraith's specialty was not in summoning or the rising of the undead...

But in the stealing of souls, and the manipulation of the energy of others.

"Mordu Val RA!" He shrieked, and his visible aura erupted all around like a nuclear shockwave, literally bending time and space in the surrounding area like a deity flexing it's muscles in the open space of a super nova's core, the wraith growing so dark in hue it was nearly impossible to look upon him without feeling some form of terrible dread, like a beast unknown stalking forth from an endless, screaming abyss. He rushed his free hand forward and his soldered talons crackled vorpal lightning of another age down upon the shades, twisting into them until they bent away from the overwhelming spell flare until they screamed in unending agony, their bodies charred over and their eternal souls forever corroded in nefarious intent...

Slowly, one by one, the shades would turn on each other, and eventually the tide of shades would turn around completely, headed straight for Nox. "Yes my new puppets, DISMEMBER THE BOY, YOUR ONCE FRIEND AND BELOVED LEADER! SHOW HIM YOUR TRUEST LOVE FOR HIS FLESH, AND HIS BOOOONES!! MUAHAAHAHHAHAHAH!" The Lord Wraith cackled maddening laughter, his talons crushing into a terrible fist that forced the newly enslaved shades and his own wraiths forward at a doubled pace, their weapons raising and their screams now falling in unison as they found themselves all under one, collective banner. They spoke of torture, of hopelessness and sinking misery as they stumbled towards Nox and the others of the room, wailing like dying banshees as the corrupting energy of Celebrembar's mighty Viperbranch took hold of their very souls.

"Kill me, please." One of the shades begged at Nox, raising up it's broadsword to cleave the man in twain. Others circled him as well, at least 12 in number along with one towering wraith of commanding stature, and the Lord Wraith's cackle echoed the room over in unnatural, conniving sound. Even Nox's own portal would be working against him now, and every shade that fell from it's foul slip in space time would turn upon the others of the room or head in his direction, aiming to maim and rip and tear all who opposed the Lord wraith's impossible strength.

The wraith shackled his blade down, twisting it in the air like a conductor to a grand orchestra, and several of his weakened but still easily commanded wraiths, three in total, turned their sundered gazes upon Lilian. They rushed her like rabid hounds, and aimed to cleave her into nothing but limbs and ragged bones as their enormous long swords raised in unison, all simultaneously crashing down in one defiant crescendo of steel warped in darkness.

The Lord Wraith ignored the Queen, for now. She was paltry to him, a nothing in his eyes. He would rape her very soul from her lips at the end of all this, regardless of her pathetic display of overwhelming anger, and he would take a deviant pleasure in doing so before the corpses of her slain friends and family. How he dreamed of such perverted villainy, his laugh ever present as he turned it towards Oracle, hooded cowl tilting like a hawk gazing down at hapless prey.

Legendary Sauce

Wraith-like speed/ Wraith Flash: Celebrembar's first and only current rune of power, this ancient symbol allows the cunning wraith to move at speeds that break the laws of physics, allowing his body to seamlessly move through and over objects at velocities so turbulent it would appear as if he had performed a teleportation.

He seemed to vanish from thin air, the only tell of his movement a near silent click of his tongue;

He would appear inches from Oracle's face, his Viperbranch reared back and aimed to jack straight into the false king of the Umbral's stomach in a rending motion that would no doubt tear the life force from his very bones. "Boo." He mocked, his blade slamming forward like an arrow upon the hearts of all that opposed him..

He did not care for Hartia. He felt the heart of the man before, and knew him to be a coward towards his legendary aura. He did not fear retaliation from the wizened warrior of magical intent; if anything, he would force the being and his brother into cowering, helpless slavery by the end of it all. This was not the wraith Hartia had faced in the woods earlier that day...

This was a completely different kind of beast, and the overwhelming increase in his power level from then until now would no doubt strike fear in the Cambion's heart.