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 Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 8:44 pm
angelitaxdexmuerto A demon queen. She'd been one once. The soul of a god, the long-dead body of a demon. The gargantuan, rotting form of what looked to be reminiscent of a gore-red, horned Irish Wolfhound was now an empty shell; devoid of the Fae that once dwelled within. Devoid of the fae that had once served as the goddess of the forests, before Artemis ever dare poke her dainty little head into existance. Before the Egyptian gods. Before the Babalonian gods. Before the Greek gods, Maeve had ruled. Out with the old and in with the new the others had told her, and her kindred slew her full of hate.
That hate took shape on her death. It took the shape of a Hell Hound. This hound had no intention of mindlessly guarding hell's gates, nor did she plan on wandering the firey wastelands in packs for the rest of eternity. She was going to Re-Ascend. And reascend she did. No longer was she the wiry, red elven Fae of her youth. Now she was a tree-high mangy wolf with fur the color of fire and horns of pitch. Quite a terrifying creature it was that took the domain of Nature's Wrath. Though her reign as the Red Death was poorly time and short lived. Some little t**t that went by the name of Arthur shoved an ugly hunk of metal named Excalibur into her chest. Hell hounds are demonic, but by no means immortal. Maeve met her death a second time. But it was the third time that was the charm.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of years went by before another filthy human found her. A wizard this time. Equally as young at the time and equally a pain in her furred a** as the first that crossed her path. While not as catastrophically stupid as Arthur's puppetteer, Merlin, Vincent Anamak was pretty dumb. However; it seemed that the lower a wizard's intelligence, the better their skill. And with that skill, Vincent Anamak bound the rotting hound's goddess soul into some little trinket somewhere on his person and rose her as a Lich. His personal Lich. Guarding the gates of hell would have been a better day job than guarding the gates of his zombie-ridden estate. Not even her phylactery could hold her on his property when he left for lower ground. Her semi-skeletal legs struck the ground in their three-part cadence for eons it seemed. What little fur she had left swayed with her still-graceful strides, and where the fur had fallen away, the shrivled muscle, tendon, and bones' intricate dance referred to by lupine kind as a lope.
Her dance ended before a beautiful demon queen. A mockery from her fellows of what she had once been. She could look the part still if she wanted, the only gift from the necromancer. She slowed her lope to a jog, to a walk, to a stop, towering over the woman on the couch, and the others at the scene. Her lips had rotted away, leaving her yellowed teeth forever exposed in a harsh snarl. One of her ears was completely missing, and the bone under her right eye had broken away, leaving the shrivled orb dangling uselessly by the optic nerve against her cheek. The flesh around the other eye was gone, revealing the organ in its entirety in the socket. Her kinked tail twitched behind her slowly from one side to the other as she stretched, only to see if the lesser things would cringe at the grating and popping of a corpse in movement.
"Why hello there." Her voice, through the hollow husk, held an accent long forgotten by any deizen of this plane of existance. "Would I be inturrupting anything perchance?"
((O_O....*Gapes dropping her piece of cheese....then quickly throws it away...making sure Ghost did not witness her sin*))
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Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 9:16 pm
*moves back watching them*
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Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 9:20 pm
The Queen of Uoe smelled the creature before seeing it. Sometimes it was a pain to have heightened senses. The bridge of her nose wrinkled at the disgusting smell, she had to hold down the bile that threatened to leak out.
Somehow she managed to stomach it and carried on. Athura's body stiffened at the sight of the creature, though not out of fear. The demoness slowly levitated off the couch so she could be at eye level with it. Athura was no small woman, she towered over most wretched lifeforms, excluding her husband and son.
Athura did not fear this creature, the demoness had seen many things in her long lifetime, she was an ancient among her kind. Her face remaind impassive as she studied it. Then a thought occured to her.
"A Hound of Hell."she whispered to herself, her crimson eyes took on a glow. This had definently caught her interest.
"No...not at all."She replied, her eyes curiously gazing over its form. "But what has drawn you to me?"She asked quietly, her brows furrowing.
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Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 9:59 pm
((sorry I took so long. I had some schedule hammering out to do with my sis. Damn highschool. @_@ ))
She knew she reeked of death. How could she not? She'd been left in a small cave to fester for a few thousand years only to be chained onto the blood-and-entrail soaked forests of the death-ridden Anamak Estate. Her mouth opened a bit to release the now-black toungue as it spasamed over her still-sharp teeth. The twitching of her whip-like tail increased its tempo, hammering out in nigh all directions now. Nothing made the sluggish ball of blackened and puss-soaked tissue that used to be her heart jump with joy more than watching revulsion at the sight and smell of her anceint body. She knew there was no fear in this woman, but it still prompted the attempt at a tail wag.
Her head shuddered and cracked as she brought it up to the woman's level. As the demoness studied her, she returned the favor. She was of old stock, but it was hard to determine who was the elder. They were from two different lower planes. Evident by the dusk before the dawn of the recollection.
"Yes M'Lady. I was a Hound of Hell. One of the first but by no means the last. You are one of the first of yours as well. That makes us sisters, you and I." Hounds were supposed to be servants, pets to the archdemons. This pureblood would be no pet to no lesser entity. The goddess soul was in the human's pocket, but the goddess's mind was still in the cracked and exposed skull of the wolfhound. Her intact gold eye rolled over towards the others in attendance, muzzle pulling back further to show her disdain. Especially towards the cat. She hated cats. Her slave master kept what seemed like hundreds of the fleabags roaming inside the house and about the grounds. There were as many felines as cadavers on the Anamak grounds.
"Whatever draws all together and apart M'Lady? Momma Fortuna, our oft forgotten or bastardized sister. Mistress of chance. Lady Luck." As she was talking, a maggot dragged itself out of her more or less empty eye socket and plummeted to its death, though squished by a massive paw for good measure.
((aww. My lizard's trying to scare his kibble.))
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Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 10:49 pm
(That's all right...yes...wretched high school =_=...aww...lizards are adorable! But I want a boa.)
Athura listened closly to the female, as she had just discovered. However, her gaze kept returning to the eyeball that hung out of the creature's socket. For some reason it irked her, she wanted to stuff it back in, but refrained herself from doing so.
The female was right about her, though Athura was the only Storm Witch that remained, the last of her kind. She sometimes wondered if her son had gained some of her powers.
She forced her thoughts back on to the conversation at present. It seemed this creature, like her husband, had a thing for speaking elaboratly. She hated it, never getting to the point.
"I doubt it has anything to do with fate."She replied at last. "What is it you have really come for?" Athura asked, her eyes narrowing. The demoness's tail flickered impatiently behind her. She ignored the maggot that fell from the hole.
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Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 11:11 pm
It seemed her sightless eye captured her sister's attention. She tilted her finely crafted head to the side, just to make it dangle. The useless appendage irked her as well, but there was no sensation in it and thankfully no sight. It would be rather confusing to constantly see the swaying ground as well as what was in front of her. "It won't stay M'Lady. The human death lord that keeps my soul enslaved and my body animate has tried many a time." A staccato growl erupted from nowhere yet everywhere at once in a canine laugh. She had been a Fae and part of her always would be. What was natural was to be.
The demoness before her seemed a simple thing. Impatient. Easily irritated. All the things she hated in humans, but would the force of a demon amplify that, or make the faults tolerable? Time would tell, and Maeve had all the time in the cosmos.
"Everything has to do with fate, sister. Fate and nature, and it is nature from whence I came before my resurrection and reanimation. Nature is a chaotic thing. She does what she wants, when she wants, with no rhyme or reason. I have no reason for standing before you other than that I am."
((I know. I wanted a ribbon snake or a corn but Dad was all NO SNAKES so I got a bearded dragon. ^_^ I love him to bits... *afterthougt* omfg this post sucked. XD))
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Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 11:15 pm
((That sounds cool. I'm retiring for the night, I'll respond 2maro. Night all. EDIT: No it didn't! It was lovely, as far as death and rotting are concerned))
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Posted: Thu Aug 21, 2008 11:21 pm
Athula ((That sounds cool. I'm retiring for the night, I'll respond 2maro. Night all. EDIT: No it didn't! It was lovely, as far as death and rotting are concerned)) ((I should be sleeping >_> but I aint. And it was short! I hate short! That was like... microscopic. XD))
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Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 2:23 am
angelitaxdexmuerto A demon queen. She'd been one once. The soul of a god, the long-dead body of a demon. The gargantuan, rotting form of what looked to be reminiscent of a gore-red, horned Irish Wolfhound was now an empty shell; devoid of the Fae that once dwelled within. Devoid of the fae that had once served as the goddess of the forests, before Artemis ever dare poke her dainty little head into existance. Before the Egyptian gods. Before the Babalonian gods. Before the Greek gods, Maeve had ruled. Out with the old and in with the new the others had told her, and her kindred slew her full of hate.
That hate took shape on her death. It took the shape of a Hell Hound. This hound had no intention of mindlessly guarding hell's gates, nor did she plan on wandering the firey wastelands in packs for the rest of eternity. She was going to Re-Ascend. And reascend she did. No longer was she the wiry, red elven Fae of her youth. Now she was a tree-high mangy wolf with fur the color of fire and horns of pitch. Quite a terrifying creature it was that took the domain of Nature's Wrath. Though her reign as the Red Death was poorly time and short lived. Some little t**t that went by the name of Arthur shoved an ugly hunk of metal named Excalibur into her chest. Hell hounds are demonic, but by no means immortal. Maeve met her death a second time. But it was the third time that was the charm.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of years went by before another filthy human found her. A wizard this time. Equally as young at the time and equally a pain in her furred a** as the first that crossed her path. While not as catastrophically stupid as Arthur's puppetteer, Merlin, Vincent Anamak was pretty dumb. However; it seemed that the lower a wizard's intelligence, the better their skill. And with that skill, Vincent Anamak bound the rotting hound's goddess soul into some little trinket somewhere on his person and rose her as a Lich. His personal Lich. Guarding the gates of hell would have been a better day job than guarding the gates of his zombie-ridden estate. Not even her phylactery could hold her on his property when he left for lower ground. Her semi-skeletal legs struck the ground in their three-part cadence for eons it seemed. What little fur she had left swayed with her still-graceful strides, and where the fur had fallen away, the shrivled muscle, tendon, and bones' intricate dance referred to by lupine kind as a lope.
Her dance ended before a beautiful demon queen. A mockery from her fellows of what she had once been. She could look the part still if she wanted, the only gift from the necromancer. She slowed her lope to a jog, to a walk, to a stop, towering over the woman on the couch, and the others at the scene. Her lips had rotted away, leaving her yellowed teeth forever exposed in a harsh snarl. One of her ears was completely missing, and the bone under her right eye had broken away, leaving the shrivled orb dangling uselessly by the optic nerve against her cheek. The flesh around the other eye was gone, revealing the organ in its entirety in the socket. Her kinked tail twitched behind her slowly from one side to the other as she stretched, only to see if the lesser things would cringe at the grating and popping of a corpse in movement.
"Why hello there." Her voice, through the hollow husk, held an accent long forgotten by any deizen of this plane of existance. "Would I be inturrupting anything perchance?"
TL;DR dear. twisted
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Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 7:33 am
The Goddess Lolth angelitaxdexmuerto A demon queen. She'd been one once. The soul of a god, the long-dead body of a demon. The gargantuan, rotting form of what looked to be reminiscent of a gore-red, horned Irish Wolfhound was now an empty shell; devoid of the Fae that once dwelled within. Devoid of the fae that had once served as the goddess of the forests, before Artemis ever dare poke her dainty little head into existance. Before the Egyptian gods. Before the Babalonian gods. Before the Greek gods, Maeve had ruled. Out with the old and in with the new the others had told her, and her kindred slew her full of hate.
That hate took shape on her death. It took the shape of a Hell Hound. This hound had no intention of mindlessly guarding hell's gates, nor did she plan on wandering the firey wastelands in packs for the rest of eternity. She was going to Re-Ascend. And reascend she did. No longer was she the wiry, red elven Fae of her youth. Now she was a tree-high mangy wolf with fur the color of fire and horns of pitch. Quite a terrifying creature it was that took the domain of Nature's Wrath. Though her reign as the Red Death was poorly time and short lived. Some little t**t that went by the name of Arthur shoved an ugly hunk of metal named Excalibur into her chest. Hell hounds are demonic, but by no means immortal. Maeve met her death a second time. But it was the third time that was the charm.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of years went by before another filthy human found her. A wizard this time. Equally as young at the time and equally a pain in her furred a** as the first that crossed her path. While not as catastrophically stupid as Arthur's puppetteer, Merlin, Vincent Anamak was pretty dumb. However; it seemed that the lower a wizard's intelligence, the better their skill. And with that skill, Vincent Anamak bound the rotting hound's goddess soul into some little trinket somewhere on his person and rose her as a Lich. His personal Lich. Guarding the gates of hell would have been a better day job than guarding the gates of his zombie-ridden estate. Not even her phylactery could hold her on his property when he left for lower ground. Her semi-skeletal legs struck the ground in their three-part cadence for eons it seemed. What little fur she had left swayed with her still-graceful strides, and where the fur had fallen away, the shrivled muscle, tendon, and bones' intricate dance referred to by lupine kind as a lope.
Her dance ended before a beautiful demon queen. A mockery from her fellows of what she had once been. She could look the part still if she wanted, the only gift from the necromancer. She slowed her lope to a jog, to a walk, to a stop, towering over the woman on the couch, and the others at the scene. Her lips had rotted away, leaving her yellowed teeth forever exposed in a harsh snarl. One of her ears was completely missing, and the bone under her right eye had broken away, leaving the shrivled orb dangling uselessly by the optic nerve against her cheek. The flesh around the other eye was gone, revealing the organ in its entirety in the socket. Her kinked tail twitched behind her slowly from one side to the other as she stretched, only to see if the lesser things would cringe at the grating and popping of a corpse in movement.
"Why hello there." Her voice, through the hollow husk, held an accent long forgotten by any deizen of this plane of existance. "Would I be inturrupting anything perchance?"
TL;DR dear. twisted
No it wasn't. Also, you wouldn't survive in my roleplays then if you couldn't read that. No offense, miss spider. wink
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Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 7:47 am
[If only I had the patience to make posts that long. xP]
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Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 7:57 am
A high pitched, piercing screech sliced through the room, followed by a banshee-like laughter, which emanated from the far corner on the ceiling of the room. The bricks and stones on the wall were curiously covered in a thick coat of ivy which had oddly spread across the whole room, hanging from the ceiling in tendrils. The organic growth seemed to originate from the creature that was shrouding itself within the shadows.
Movement could be seen, the creature's silhouette was barely visible, her form shrouded as she pressed back into the shadows. Wriggling forms played at the edge of the shadow, slithering into the light. The appendages resembled leafy tree roots teaming with all sorts of life and were dotted with crimson eyes.
A bitter hiss slithered from the creature as a tiny speck of light appeared like a crimson blood drop, sliding down its forehead, then opening to reveal a diamond shaped crimson eye with a spaded pupil, and a starburst of gold glowing with vibrant light. The strange root-like tendrils then began to slide against one another, mocking the sound of a rattler's tail.
One by one, larger eyes opened from the bricks on the wall, their pupils rolling before focusing on the different forms in the room.
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Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 9:45 am
Athura winced at the piercing sound, the screeching echoed in her ears. She looked away from the undead creature before her, and turned to face the source of the noise.
Her face brushed against one of the ivy leaves dangling from the ceiling. Athura let out a sigh, she immediatly recognized who had done this. After all, the palace was covered in these same leaves.
Affectionetly, the demoness took the leaf in her hand and gently rubbed the edges with her thumb. She could feel one of the eyes watching her. Athura let go of the appendage and slightly nodded at the eye, her thin lips cracking to give a small smile.
The queen eyed the room carefully, small movement out of the corner of her eye made her look up at the ceiling. "Uoe."She said at last.
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Posted: Fri Aug 22, 2008 10:43 am
To Santuary's question:
I agree...their are definently to many good deity's...but the drow do need conflict...what else are they going to do with their free time? rofl
In Storm of the Dead...just the way she made Lolth act...I didn't agree with it...
I think she should have kept to the way the author of Resurrection made Lolth behave...that is how I see her acting...
Also, the way she described the Demonweb Pits...saying the sky was a purple like bruise color....it's not...it's RED...RED I TELL YOU...
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