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Chatty Fatcat

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Name: Aarin De Silva



"My Lord... you have called me to your service from my command upon the Plains of Abraham. Though I trust my forces will emerge victorious... my blood boils to continue the fight. Please... direct me as you wish with haste, so I may slake my thirst here in your name, and return to my armies anon. Until then, I am yours to command, blade and body alike."

“Yeah yeah yeah; Look, instead of long winded speeches can you get me out of here.”


It was an disembodied head, rolling toward them on the ground. The head itself looked horrid, the face seem to be melted every which way, patches of different skins stitched together sloppily like some type of patchwork doll. It began to look around seemingly confused for a second before finally groaning. “Dooes any one of you guys know where the rest of me is at?” It took a while scanning the area, but he then finally found his body running in the distance with the rest of his body parts. “Ahh there we go…” The body of itself was not in any better looking condition than his face, the patches of skin stitched at an even more horrid degree with some parts of the skin even giving off an eerie glow, It was stumbling toward the female erraticly, without it’s eyes the body obviously couldn’t find his head which lead to to the head giving off an annoyed sighed.

Before he could say anything though the body grabbed the disembodied head which grinned at it, Placing the head on top of it The man sighed in relief a soft white glow emanating from the neckline of the body and the head. “That’s better…” He began to relax his head, shaking his hands in an attempt to warm up his body, hard to do when things aren’t your own. “Geez that was a wild ride…” He seemed a bit odder than his other party memebers, he lacked their seriousness that was for certain, then again he felt that the group always needed to lighten themselves up a bit, they were always DESTROY and Take Over doomy doom doom. They needed to relax and enjoy the chaos they caused, no reason to make it a job and all.

With that thought in mind he raised his hand and smiled at the sight, electricity began to cackle around his hand, followed by a billow of flame. At this point a different part of the patches on his body began to glow instantly. “So boss, what are we gonna do today, where are the victims?” His grin grew to each side of his face, his eyes went wide he clenched his hand an miniature explosion rang through his hand, but only with minor injuries on the man itself, cooked skin was never an issue for him.

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Even now he could feel and hear that Ursan was summoning a bit more than initially intended. This meant he had a few second thoughts on how much power they might require. That was when he decided to mentally skype his brother, telepathically alerting him to where, when, and why Hartia was so that he might follow the psionic signal like a beacon. Traveling through time and space as was his specialty to come to the aid of his brother. If things went sour, he needed his own living, KNOWN without a doubt flesh and blood here. It was the only way to be sure he would be able to survive this, or at least survive it in the manner he would like. If he were to fall in any form or fashion, he just wanted to be sure he was brought back up how he went down. Perhaps one day he would step beyond the veil, into the world of the undead. But he planned on living as long as he truly, possibly could. If his brother didn't come, well then it wouldn't be the first time his brother wasn't there to back him up. s**t happened. Just like there was probably a few times where Orphen needed Hartia, and yet Hartia wasn't there for his twin either. Other than the simple notification to his kin, the Cambion remained recluse, silent, gathering energies into the stone as they gathered their forces. The stone itself began to acquire it's own natural heat, unaffected by the contained aether. A light vibration slowly coming to life. The more energy he stored, the more glowing light and vibration would be had. However, he would only feel that vibration spiritually, for the vibranium hilt of his blade would physically rob those same vibrations before they ever reached his hand.

Energy Stored in Gemstone: 6 + 6 = 12 Points!

OutlawD One

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(( Well this is interesting.. o-o I take it you are here to invade? Mind if I ask if you were sent or if this is for fun? I am only curious, people of the Sigil are welcome of course. ))

Sniff. Sniff The white haired woman stared at the tree line that wasn't that far from her house. Fenra lived on the edge of the city near the forest because of her inner nature. She was the wolf spirit, kin to the Queen. She'd felt some type of disturbance within the thick foliage that was a second home to her but she couldn't pin point where or what it was. Her pale eyes scanned the outer line of trees, looking for shadows that did not belong, or eyes that saw too much. As a breeze passed her she lifted her chin to smell what it carried to her. There was a woodsy smell that seemed to cover all others, but even she could tell there was a bare hint of something there.

Normally Fenra would have thought nothing of this, as some animals came and went, but this strange happening so close on the heels of the dragon roaring in pain had her on edge. Narrowing her gaze she peered farther into the trees. It only took her a moment to decide that she needed to look into the matter. Turning slowly, not wanting to take her eyes off the forest, she reached down and grabbed the bow and quiver of arrows she kept leaned against the side of her humble home. Moving with caution she'd slip a strap over her shoulder and head before moving toward the woods. At first she thought about appearing as a simple hunter, but if she had been watched then the ruse wouldn't work. So to take precautions she grabbed an arrow and held it in position as she moved, though the sting to her bow was loose to prevent her from having to strain her arm to hold it taunt.

Aged Gaian

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((We were not sent and everything we do is for the enjoyment of all. For story does not exist without adversity. smile We are here to entertain you and ourselves.))

Anarus's Wife

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(( Welcome Tres. And I must say, I love the characters you brought. Very interesting.. ))

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OOC: We are *strikes ridiculous pose* THE GINYU FORCE!

=3

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Hartia Raye Pendragon
OOC: We are *strikes ridiculous pose* THE GINYU FORCE!

=3

(( //giggle. Well then.. I dare say you have struck a soft spot in my heart. //DBZ fan. ))

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Hartia Raye Pendragon

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Conquest
>> Outside Umbral - Forest <<


      Death's Helm was a deviously beautiful creature, all heaving, blood stained curves that begged the eye to follow them down the line of the body, across the armor and those muscled thighs and arms, finishing with the sword held off like a conductor's baton. Even with his diminished virility, the Lich knew that were he a younger man, a living man full of blood and gumption, his purposes for summoning her would not have been so cut and dry. Nodding his head and copying her salute, a quick swish of his hand towards his brow, he called up to her with a voice that boomed. Her skeletal drake would land with a crash against the forest floor, it's dagger-claws tearing into the soft dirt and upsetting countless little things that made their home below ground - he had to remind himself that this thing was very dead, nothing more than bones and rotten tendons slung together with ancient magic and binding curses, not a living thing. His reaction to those beasts were exclusively hostile, and the fact that he allowed the woman to ride one, even in death, seemed to speak towards some darker purpose, if not a clue to her preternatural skill in the seat of command. The hemmed edge of his jackt would flutter around his calves.

      "My apologies, Aubrey of Rathe, but I am in need of your aid." His golden eye would swirl about, centering on those full painted lips, and yet he couldn't find himself exactly angered by her indigence, knowing that had those words fallen from another's mouth it would have meant death, and yet he moved along casually.

      "You will have your fill by day's end, Commander." Ursan called up to her. "I am giving you command of the Torchine Horde."

      The hand he had brought up in salute feel in front of his chest, where he cinched it tightly into a sudden fist. Suffused light would grow in the air before the woman, gathering in small motes and adding into a steadily growing piece; a golden rod topped with a small cup, which was in turn filled with a bloody colored crystal shaped into flames. Gold and platinum wire was wrapped around the middle, offering a comfortable handle for the foot-long scepter. It would rotate in front of the woman until she took a hold of it.

      "Do as you will, in my name and in my office. You will find victory today and bounties enough after. Be off, commander."

      The Lich would turn his head quickly, even as the beast would beat it's wings and take to the air, sending gouts of dusty air across the clearing. The head which had rolled towards them was picked up and set on an equally unsettling body, where the owner would address the Lich in a way that was anything but formal. Ursan's lip would have curled in displeasure; he was a King, not a commoner, and would be treated as such.

      "I trust your trip was not wholly unpleasant, Aarin." The Lich would sneer, regarding the flames the thing had summoned. He always had new tricks. "We are taking the land. Enjoy yourself as you see fit, I have no immediate need of your skills."

      He'd wave his hand, a quick spell taking place, transferring enough information about the local geography to the man that he'd know there were a few settlements laying about, and a kingdom further to the north. Ursan didn't seem to have more patience than that for this thing - he hardly ever did, but he couldn't discredit Aarin's skill in the field so as to allow the Lich to be done with him permanently. Allowing him his own fun and destruction would be enough in this case.

      "Peter, come with me please." He'd order, beckoning the behemoth to come along side him. He patted it's great arm as it rose and lumbered up, each step shaking the ground like a small quake, slabs of cinderblock-hard muscle tensing in action and movement slow as it always was with the dead.

      Ursan's eyes trailed to Hartia, next, and he'd step away from Aarin to join the Cambion. He looked to the stone at the end of Hartia's blade, studying it for a moment and the thin streams of invisible energy that joined it and the man's body as he focused, pouring more and more energy into it's confines - Tiger's Eye was one of the many gemstones which held properties allowing it's delicate body to hold substantial amounts of unnatural energy. It came quickly to the Cambion, which was pleasing enough to see, and they had plenty of time to wait, allowing Death's Helm to lead a concord of the dead towards whatever waited for her in the distance.

      "Keep at it." He'd whisper, part warning and part order. Hartia might not have yet experienced the sour taste in his mouth when the magic he could so easily shape and contort failed him, and he would likely not understand how that powerlessness affected their kind so. Ursan would prefer to keep it that way, at least allowing them a measure of unpolluted energy on which to fall upon if things became especially dire.

      He equally didn't want to voice that aloud, insinuation would be more than adequate.

      Deeper in the woods, Kilcannon stalked through the underbrush carefully, silently, the jangling bits of her armor muffled as best she could manage with bits of cloth shoved into the joints and along the mail for that exact purpose. Dark as she was, silent as she was, she would be all but invisible in this land of night, where she honestly felt quite at home. There was no chance the sun would rise and peel the baby soft flesh from the hard lines of muscle underneath, there would be no bitter bile rising into her throat as she disdained her natural urge to sleep through sun's reign in the sky. No, she felt keenly comfortable in this world, and the smile that flitted across her plush lips every few moments, highlighting the series of predator-like teeth filling her otherwise dainty maw, only made her seem more capable in the dark of this land. Her foot fell through the underbrush, and she caught her balance when her heavy step broke through a mole tunnel that was a bit too close to the surface.

      Her eyes, bright gold and shining like a cat's in the unlight, darted around in her skull as a little noise came to her ears and she would sniff hard, nostrils flaring, as she picked up some scent on the slow wind. Like a beast sensing prey, she smelled something more than the animal stench that hugged these woods, something that seemed only partially natural but otherwise not belonging in this place. A wolf maybe? she would think to herself. Her teeth were set on edge at the though, wolves were hardly a good thing, and many of the were-beast she'd come across had been under some assumption that all vampires and wolves were at some endless war. Which they weren't, but the point seemed especially strained, and after so long, Kilcannon had learned to be wary of even their smell.

      Still silent, she'd move towards the smell and place her hand upon the gilt hilt of her sword.

      Ursan would have turned away from Hartia, and begun digging around in one of his pockets. He drew out an amulet, it's wide golden face sneering with a three pronged flame emblazoned in bright red paint and hanging by a thin gold chain that tinkled like a little bell when he let it drop and hang from his fingers. He could feel the magic in it the second it had touched the open air, and even through the chain, he could feel the unnatural heat coming from the metal, enough to sear one's flesh, and he looked it over for any immediate defects. Finding none, he threw it to the ground.

      The little grasses and brush it touched almost immediately ignited, taking up flames in quick sparkling bursts that grew quickly from the moment they touched the metal, faster than could be considered natural, and the flames grew in intensity with each passing second, until a line ten feet long had formed. The flames would sputter and spark, the heat enough to dry the surrounding grass into yellow-brown death, before they fluttered high into the air with a whoosh of devoured oxygen and poured streamers of smoke into the air. Like a cutrain, this wall of flame would part down the middle and open, sending a warm burp of hot air across Ursan that made his coat tails flutter behind him.

      And then came the marching.

      Droves of marching so loud and so ordered that it could have been a machine. Ursan would step to the side, away from the portal as the source of those cacophonous cries became apparent through the haze of hot air.

      Thum, thum, thum, thum, each step fell like a blacksmith's hammer upon the anvil.

      And before the gathered eyes, the first line of creatures would step - dead, every single one of them, dressed in burned rags and scorched metal and even more wearing nothing besides, showing their skin or bone to be not only rotting but burned to the point that the twisted ends of tendons and muscles had been blackened, with what skin remained pockmarked and scarred as if acid had been thrown over them. One near the front wore a dented breastplate and a cavalier's helm like he was a caricature of some spanish conqueror, and another had wrapped around him a bolt of stained, dirtied, and of course burnt cloth, that had probably once been white, and another beside him was built up completely in a full plate, the metal bent and warped by heat and a helmeted head only barely hiding the festering cracked skull beneath it. Within the span of a breath, fifty men and women had come through, moving through the forest as a unit, clearing the way ahead of them, and then stopping as if set by clockwork rather than flesh and blood. More were coming, and then even more after. The ground was quaking with their in time march, each step shaking needles from the pines overhead in a rain.

      The Horde had come.

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YummyBiscuits



Farther into the woods she traveled. Sniffing the air every so many steps to adjust her course accordingly. It wasn't until she heard something that she stilled, the hand on the bow string flexing slightly, anticipating an attack. Tilting her head this way and that she listened to her surroundings. Rubbing one finger along the arrow she had in place she pulled just a little on the string to give it some tension. What met her next was something altogether surprising. Mixed in with the sound of her bow was someone moving as if to become one with the dark but there was also a distant sound of a... machine? Fenra couldn't tell. She'd not been near that many to be accurate. She could only say that the sound was well organized.

Grinding her teeth she pulled her bow back a bit more. At half way she stopped to listen some more before she moved. Calling upon her inner nature she saw with the eyes of the wolf. Darkness was her home and she would see what could not be seen. Sinking low as she walked she stalked the noises around her. From experience she knew which were animals and which were not. The thrumming she would ignore for now, it seemed to keep pace and wouldn't be hard to find later.

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Repitition was key. The Cambion remained focused on pooling his energy as he could feel the disturbance in the aether that was Ursan bringing forth THE Horde. His own mark aligning him with the Negative plane reassured his safety long before fear was even a thought. He couldn't yet tell if his brother would be in attendance, though if he wasn't, it was merely his loss on sharing with his twin, and the Lich King himself, the discovery of a life time. He might no have had a clue yet, though regardless of the success of this raid, he would get to the bottom of the big question mark this dimension placed in his mind.

Energy Stored in Gemstone: 12 + 6 = 18

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It seemed Hartia had gotten himself into something again. Unfortunately for Orphen once Hartia attempted to 'Twindragon' Orphen and the eldest accepted he was abrasively assaulted by a barrage of putrid smells; A momentary glimpse of darkness, skull faces, and many darkness.

He could sense his brother's building power but no stress in his nature, meaning he was at current safe.

Behind Hartia a small spot of black would form in the already darkened abyss, damn near invisible to the naked eye. This small black focal point would expand as the Dark Matter spread chilling the area around it to a super frozen state just as Orphen's feet would step through its form and cause the grass beneath him to shatter, and break with the sound of glass.

"Hartia."

He spoke but his voice was not loud, but those who were aware could hear. Scanning the area around them Orphen took in the site of a Lich, the one called Ursan the Gold as he had been informed by Hartia, a horde of dead, a decayed beast, and a grabbed female warrior of sorts. The smell registered with him again casting a foul look upon his face.

"Your nose is of stronger constitution than mine."

Bringing up the sleeve of his finely starched and pressed white button-up Orphen briefly covered his nose allowing his sense to rest in the smell of his magics.....and fabric softener. The eldest Pedragon's attire was its usual; A buttoned suit black suit vest, white shirt and a pair of dark slacks. His brown eyes momentarily shifted to a color matching the abyss around, speckled with yellows and whites mimicking the stars. Being a user of and connected to Dark Matter he was no stranger to the void of light.

"A siege?"

His question lay open to any who would answer and introduce themselves, though he knew the answer already.

Magic Points: ██████████ (100pts)

Mythos Points:(0/5)

Elixir(s):2

OOC: Off to work!

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(( //twiddles thumbs ))

Obsessive Vampire

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(( Yay, people! Now I need to get the cobwebs out of my head ... ))

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OOC: crying

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Heras Box


"Blood..."

Not a voice, but a sensation. further sense that flushed by without warning and with less warning than it had come, it was gone. Incomprehensible to most, even in Gaia the way it plucked at the chords of one's inner most being, pleasure and pain in unison, consciousness and deft at once. Something resonated within the young woman, pulsating with the ever subtle touch in her instincts as though it were her own second nature.

"...Rhythm."

A sudden wave of the earlier taste for her nerves would wash over her entire being. Something to entice, something to draw out her appetite and awaken her hungers, though the most reserved and obscure.

"See... See..."

Beckoning was it the plea. Craving of her understanding and conceptual design. It verged on frantic, begging perhaps even without tone or anything that could be recognized as a voice.

"See... Can you see?!"

What had been besides the one wave a subtle thrumming at the strings of her DNA now without warning accelerated to a rapidly approaching peak. The bass of a formless influence raptures as it approached blossom within her.

"Bon appétit!"

For the briefest of moments a spattering of blood would appear on the girl's forehead, warmth spreading in an instant across her brow, lessening as it spread over her scalp and face gradually, though leaving a subtle burn in her eyes before the blood evaporated into the air, fading like steam along with the memory of a particular Cainite being flicking her precisely there long ago.

As the warmth faded, and the pitchless voice evanescenced from both her being and memories, the girl would be left with the uncanny ability to not only sense, but see, and DNA. Blood, saliva... even mana was characterized by the individual nature of its user. The longer she watch, she'd be able to recognise the ordinarily inconceivable beat of the organic drum. That which drove every motion in the organic machine. slowly at first, she'd see the branches of life in a few, though gradually, she would be able to perceive the circulatory systems of every creature in her range of senses. Even the undead, forced the blood in their bodies to move for purpose even if their heart didn't beat. Sight, sound, it would become one sense to accommodate this new overlay of sight Coupled with her canine senses, she was a force to be reckoned with.

Even as the warmth had faded from the woman however, something still hung draped about the girl... Something of a scent of copper, an aura of protection.
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