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Black fog started to stirr on the ground revealing an crouching fully in black belt's covered figure that was followed by two other figures. The other one was a finely dressed woman with a vile look in her eyes, she was beautiful and attractive but not as stunning as succubus in their Legion and the second was a bigger man who had a two handed warhammer in his right hand and full body armor, only head had no helmet, only bold head with lot's of scars in it. He rised his hammer onto his shoulder looking around him self.
"This is the place master want's us to start? I think we would need the minions to start off Mistress.."The big fellow said and the woman who was called 'Mistress' just sneers.
"No need..these pests wont even give us a challenge in the long run..and also Master said that he would be coming also when he has done his own objectives and duty's."Mistress said and looked around herself with disgust in his eyes. The one covered in belts just looked, staying crouched like a assassin or something like that, long claws coming out of it's hands and it started to growl a little.
"Yes reaper..you can kill as much as you like once we get started. Right Crusher?"Mistress said looking behind herself towards the massive man who had armour around himself and he just sneered also and gave no answer.
"Oh yeah...Alfred should be coming too..If Master and Alfred comes, then we have no problems..remember the time when the archangel Michael tried to assault into our temple? Alfred took out most of the troops that came with that b*****d and the rest was done by master as he..."Mistress stopped when she heard Reaper starting to growl with an uneasy tone.
"I feel that there are more to kill than just one or two groups..there has been a battle here..not long ago."Crusher said and squinted his eyes starting to get ready for surprise attack or anything that could come in their way in their mission..Mission of total Carnage and to pledge as many souls to their master's cupe as possible. The more soul's he get's the more powerful he will become.

[OOC: If there isnt possibility for an attack, just inform and I'll withraw this nice fellowship out. :33]
Parsinator's avatar

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And The River Runs Red
*Outside the shack the sound of a large engine could be heard growing closer*

dramallama cool
BULLSHITER ALERT wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance wahmbulance
SnowxXxNinja's avatar

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Follow the Trail Of Snow;to the Endless Veil of Blue,where the Sun sets Sadly to

the Sound of Slaughter and Dismay
. The God of the Salty Sea wishes that It

would End
,but the Shadows and Nightcrawlers persist in Killing the Beauty and

Destroying the
Last Ray of good. Won't you please follow? The Snow will Smile

upon you and clear a path
. In your Honour.


At your wish~And Happy Halloween.
He stood atop the ramparts of the crumbling castle, his close-cropped white hair billowing in a ferocious wind. His golden eyes peered out over the landscape, a yard surrounding the crumbling shell of what was once the Warmakers home base, the lake and forest beyond that. He leapt over the castle's wooden palisades and hurtled over what had once been the moat, now a caved-in mass of splintered wood. His boots thudded into the earth and he continued to look around. It had been a long time. Perhaps the Warmakers were due for a revival.

He stood in a clearing in the forest to the south of the castle, having wanted to get away from that desolate environment. A cool spring breeze played through the trees, rustling the leaves sticking out all over the thick boughs above him and sighing through the underbrush. Bright moonlight played through the surrounding branches, illuminating the green, leaf-covered terra and causing his golden eyes and cropped white hair to shine in the dark.

Despite being a General, he sometimes favored civilian clothes over military dress or armor, and it wasn't like he really needed armor anyway. He came equipped in a black sweatshirt with a furry hood, jeans and steel toe black boots. He expected his opponent to carry weapons, but the only significant item on his person was the giant steel drum strapped to his back.

Able to scent lifeforms within a forty-foot radius without the aid of wind, he'd likely be able to smell her or detect her by other means before she actually showed herself. It was supposed to be a friendly bout anyway, so he wasn't really expecting any sudden assassination attempts on his life...but in this world, one never knew. Standing tall at six-foot-one, he leaned his two hundred thirty pound frame against the back of a gnarled tree and waited.
Eilaria's avatar

Ruthless Player

"I...can't...get...no," she twisted her head side to side, fringes of bone-white hair spraying water, eyes tightly shut as she feverishly washed the gore from her body and hair, "sa...tis...fac...shuuun," Melarne's dual-toned voice sang loudly, albeit out of tune, as she tilted her face upwards, allowing the waterfall to rinse the soap from her face and hair, careful to keep her eyes closed. Twisting her hips to the beat of her own music, she continued her singing, eyes still tightly shut, "I can't get no, I can't get no, I can't get no," lithe arms swaying at her sides as she allowed herself to fully succumb to her own lyrical enjoyment, "no satisfaction."

Should any wanderer happen to be traveling through the lush, tropical landscape they would surely mistaken the female to be a lunatic. Gleaming ebony skin, flawless save for the few twisted scars that ran the entire length of the female's right thigh, shockingly white hair that swayed wildly with every twist and turn of the female's syncopated dance. If the woman ever decided to open her eyes again, slits of amethyst would peer out from beneath heavily lashed lids, emanating an almost ethereal glow, lending the female a goddess-like aura. Even dancing and singing as she showered beneath a natural waterfall, the warrior female was intimidating at her height of six feet.

She spun around, hair whipping wildly as droplets of water sprayed in an outward circle, "No sa...tis," her singing stopped mid-sentence as she flung her eyes open, for the endless showers had ceased and the waterfall seemed to have dried up, "fac....shun," those last syllables were spoken, a tinge of confusion in her voice as she stared morosely at her new surroundings. She had been transported through time and space to another area, far from the relaxing natural springs where she had been showering and was now standing in the midst of a clearing.

The hair on her skin stood tall as her anger bubbled over. "Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me!!!" Bare feet stomped in place, her fists held tightly at her side as every muscle knotted. "Now?! You want me to train now?!" Her head tilted upwards, as if shouting to some unseen force. "By the Gods above and below!" Both fists thrust high into the air as she shook them to that unseen force that had plucked her from her momentary reprieve and dropped her into the center of this field in which she now stood. "Shouldn't you be playing WoW or something?!" Now, should that same wanderer happen to be passing by once more, he would definitely conclude that Melarne had completely lost her marbles and had flown over the cuckoo's nest.

"Gah! Fine, fine. But, I'm NOT doing it naked! Gods be damned, stupid gamers and their boredom! No sense of respect, I tell ya!" Melarne continued her seemingly one-sided conversation with the entity above her as she paced back and forth. Heel to the ball of her foot, she paced, waiting for her demands to be met, "And, and I want my weapons, too!" Her left foot slapped down, right on top of a sticker patch and instinctively she jerked her leg upwards, pulling her knee to her chest as she hopped around on one foot, pulling the barbs from her other. "Oh, come on! " At that moment, her armor and weapons appeared several inches away from her, piled neatly as if someone, an unseen someone, had gathered them and laid them out for her.

Silently grumbling, she clothed herself with the thick padding of her undergarments before strapping on her breastplate and gorget over her chain mail gusset, skirt, and leggings. Embossed along the front of her breastplate were various runes which gave her protections from different magical alignments. Guarding her shoulders and knees were forged metal plates.

Dangling at her hip was that infamous serpent whip, Eilaria's Shame, which Melarne expertly wielded. Seven black-and-red-banded serpents strained venomously from the whip's handle. The largest of these serpents, K'Darthuk, seemed to be hissing in her ear, a forked tongue flickering against the female's cheek as if to speak to her. Turning her cheek away, Melarne chastised the snake, "Oh, don't try to butter up to me, K'Darthuk. You should've told me," Melarne grumbled, though she conceded in the end and gave the serpent a gentle kiss on the top of its scaled head.

Tucked under her right arm, a perilous looking steel helmet whose crimsoned crest provided a brilliant splash of color against the verdant backdrop. Melarne's other hand clutched the handle of her metal-forged shield, whose runes matched those on her breastplate. Strapped to her backside, were Bane and Bale, her twin long swords. A duo of silver-coated stars were cradled into the hilts of both weapons while etched into the blades were serpents which slithered their way from the hilt of the swords to the tips.

Slipping the helmet over her head, "Alright, let's get this match over with," she spoke once again to that unseen person watching over her. A gauntleted hand reached up to slam the face guard down. Those narrow slits within her visor glowed a wretched amethyst as she waited for her match to begin, "And when I'm done....I demand a vacation. And...and...COOKIES!"
A naked female blinked into existence a few yards away from him, her hands up near her hair, which sprayed water droplets in all directions, and her back turned slightly toward him, affording him a nice view of her behind. Her dark contours shined in the moonlight. At first, she reminded him of a deer semi-caught in the headlights, but he couldn't blame her...it didn't take a genius to infer that she had just been transported here while in the middle of a shower. Her amethyst eyes roved in slight confusion. She finished spitting out the ending of a familiar song and then took in her surroundings, either having not noticed him or decidedly not paying him much attention.

He simply listened with a stoic demeanor, his brow knotted and his mouth a rictus as she hopped over and lamented to some god of hers. A nest of armor and weapons blinked into existence a few inches from her; he might have attacked her before she could properly suit up, make her fight like a naked animal, test how good she was with her hands, feet, and teeth, but he allowed her to suit up quickly from head to toe. He cringed inwardly at the sight of the seven-headed whip. The design of her weapons favored serpents. She slammed her face guard down and "waited" for her match to begin...as if she or the both of him, or the event itself, was being controlled by some outside forces.

He remained fairly stoic in the face of these revelations, kicking off from the tree and pacing toward her with an air of purpose. Two wide, flat-headed growths snaked up from each side of his latissimus dorsi, one protruding over each shoulder. His gauze-wrapped hands reached back, seizing the growths, and he produced two longswords matching his opponent's in both length and width. From the back of his neck emerged a wide helmet, which closed over his face from each side, spectacle guard clicking into place with holes for his yellow eyes to shine through. Matching gauntlets spread back across his forearms, followed by a full, dense bone carapace that was harder than steel.

Instead of waiting around for her to attack first, he got right down to business. When he came within striking range, he supinated his wrists, holding his blades with the points aligned backwards, and cross-slashed both for her midsection, attempting to cut her in half.

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