It came as an immediate relief when the doors opened and they were allowed to shuffle out of the dungeon. Relief that didn't last, because it never seemed to anymore. From one obstacle or danger and straight to another, the apprehension was quick to return as he reached the corridor, pausing to let eyes adjust to the gloom before the flicker of fire--lots of fire--drew his attention to the far wall.
Weapons, what seemed like a countless amount, were there, just waiting for someone to come and claim them. If they were foolish enough to dare the fire that, even at this distance, seemed to scald a blister.
It didn't take long for him to find his own among the line up. Smaller, more compact, the seax was little more than a glorified knife, but it was agile, quick. Not the weapon he would have chosen given the choice, but not a bad fit if he were to be honest.
There hadn't been a choice though, the weapon seemed to have a mind of it's own, a certain undeniable draw that called to him, and no matter what his personal preference might have been, it counted for nothing now.
That draw was there again, pulling him forward even as the heat from the fire threatened to melt flesh from bone. Heat like nothing he'd felt before, and he'd gotten that glimpse, the flicker of memory, that told him fire was a familiar thing to him. That he should be used to heat and ember and sizzling coals.
He wasn't foolish enough to chance this, but he found his arm moving of it's own volition, rising, reaching towards the glow of those flames. Hot and hotter, burning, searing. Flesh blistered, then cracked and peeled as he kept reaching forward, a slow agony that burned all the way down his arm and straight into his core. Dying, he was dying.
Then his fingers were closing around the hilt, drawing the knife from the collection, and the ruin he'd expected to find was gone. Not real. An illusion. Another awful vision to sit with the rest.
Ezekiel didn't even notice the casket. He turned on his heel and left, eye narrowed and features set in hard lines.
OOC
My character's name: Ezekiel Young Character's journal link:[o] BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Ezekiel is the strong quiet type. He is not terribly outgoing, though he is amicable enough in social settings, albeit it witty and ironic. He is practical and analytical, meaning he is unlikely to act recklessly or take risks that do not benefit him in some significant way. On those occasions he gets someone he does show loyalty and will even work to keep them safe up to a certain point, though he is a selfish individual. On the battle field he is calculating and cold. Physically he's tall and well muscled from various tasks and labors. He has dark, auburn hair and tanned skin. One eye is green, the other, a milky white, has a scar running through it that stretches from jaw to temple. Rank of character Apprentice -Knight
HERE YOU SHOULD QUOTE ANYONE YOU ARE TALKING TO
QUOTE MORE PEOPLE IF YOU ARE TALKING OT THEM
Posted: Sat May 16, 2015 7:58 pm
[ Thackery entering ]
Very clearly on a singularly-focused mission, with Mordred's face and his voice and the word perfect in his mind, Thackery bounded towards the casket. The butterflies parted to make way for him, but only partially - they were so densely gathered that he couldn't quite make his way into it.
"Lemme in, ruuude, lemme iiiin, I'm being Greatest Prince Mordred--I um, am Greatest Prince Mordred," he cried, trying his hardest to swat all the dumb butterflies away from him.
Zoobey
well he tried
OOC
My character's name: Thackery Character's journal link:♛|Ⅲ BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER:Thackery has very pettable black hair, darkly-tanned skin, and lavender eyes. He is wearing more keys than you can easily count. Though he appears visibly enthusiastic all the time forever, the energy does not equate to effectiveness - he is terrible at paying attention to directions and is just really happy to be here hi everyone! Rank of character Knight
Nothing Yet Crew
Obsessive Stargazer
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musicaloner7
Romantic Man-Lover
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Posted: Sat May 16, 2015 7:58 pm
[ enter verusha ]
It looked like only a few others followed him down the same pathway. No one he knew, but could obviously tell were fellow knights given they'd all just escaped like a herd of frantic cattle from their confinement. What the heck was going on? First the Three Great Knights had fought and killed one another, and then Morgan turned out to be... Morgana? And who was that anyway? what was their deal? Now the Great Knight was gone again, and they were back to fending for themselves. Really, for boasting so much about honor and all that, the whole organization seemed a mess. Verusha was beginning to question following this 'righteous' group now... maybe he'd be better off fending for himself and saving the world.
As the lights flickered along the carved walls beside him, he had to blink a couple of times as a new light entered the scene. Red... flapping ones. And not like the usual flicker that flames gave off, no. This one was different.. Lively, and animated more than just from some manipulation of wind. Squinting a little to try and get a better look, as well as hoping his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, the knight slowed a little once he got closer. Giving pause once he was in the thick of it, he looked around in disclosed awe at the sight of the.. butterflies. They were eerie, though, and weren't entirely settling by their presence. They were odd, and unnatural... though a lot of things seemed to be that way now adays. Still. It didn't bring anything of comfort as to what might lie ahead. This couldn't bode well...
Pushing onward, the gathering of butterflies is seen even further in, clumped and perched on what looks like weapons. Tons, and tons of weapons. Well those were necessary, and definitely useful. For a moment he stopped again, looking around his surroundings to check to make sure there weren't any traps nearby. But as others started to approach for their weapons too, so did Verusha.
Hesitant at first, the fire that engulfed his weapon was attempting to ward him off... but at the same time... he felt compelled to try and reach just a little more. Just a few more inches.... It hurt, stinging, licking and sizzling against his hand and forearm. But he couldn't pull back. Teeth grit, brows twitched slightly into a mild furrow, he gripped the handle of his weapon and withdrew it from the enraged flames, shaking his wielding arm out to rid it of the fire. And suddenly the angry red was gone... and he was fine. Inspecting his arm curiously, Verusha gave a small grin, and aimed a pleased look to his weapon. It felt good to be reunited again. To feel the heft in his palm. With his trusty weapon in hand now, he felt confident to take on the next challenges thrust upon him. And sticking around here didn't seem to be of any use... everyone was busy, or what ever, so moving on it was! Pushing the rejoined partner that was of metal and cloth into its hilt, secured at his hip, Verusha headed back the way he'd came to find another path and explore what it would reveal. This was a good stop, but basically a dead end.
[exit]
OOC
My character's name: Verusha Character's journal link:here BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTERexcept a guy Rank of character knight Sacred Points obtained: ???/100
Posted: Sat May 16, 2015 10:08 pm
The prison break had been something else; nothing quite said urgency like tens of knights scattering into the secret tunnel, armor clanking and robs swishing, helmets bounding and...chickens...cooing...He realized he had the power to summon one himself and as quite confused when the beast randomly showed up as he thought about it, a large rooster with brilliant plumage who was in his face for the majority of his journey. Some magic that was. Terribly useful against his enemies. Absolutely.
(He supposed he could always use it as a projectile, as some had done during the siege under Percival's orders apparently.)
At the split he decided to go for the corridor that was lit, though that in and of itself was a little suspicious to him. Were there guards there waiting for them possibly? He grabbed a torch just in case, ready to wield the fire against someone in order to get to his weapon again. But as it turned out, none of that was needed; he did not meet other people beyond the knights also going for their weapons again, but he did see something else entirely. The red butterflies had returned, and they were accumulating en masse. He wondered if maybe...
No. The queen wasn't there in the cavern waiting when they exited the tunnel. There were plenty of butterflies resting atop the rows of weapons, however, and that was good enough for him.
The casket was noted, but more immediate to him was the fire his bow was wreathed in. Wincing, Jack reached through it, forcing himself to rise above the searing pain as his flesh was peeled away into ash--and then retrieved his weapon as the illusion broke. He still shuddered nevertheless. The ward was a very powerful one to be sure: that was the sort of magic he wished he had.
Armed once more, he headed out.
OOC
My character's name: Jack Hawthorn Character's journal link:xxx BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER [ x ] Talltalltall, sharp green eyes, blond hair, jagged scar on left side of face, somewhat stoic look Rank of character Knight (1dcool
---
Sweet freedom at last yessssss. Or, well, close enough. Ish. Piper was ready to taste sweet air, but first she needed to get her weapon back. It was easy to drift into the crowd and follow, like the knights were one giant river in the nasty underground tunnel and she was just floating on through like some big black afro'd boat; she didn't like leading, as much as her personality might have made others assume otherwise. She only ever did well in battle if others did, after all, using the opportunities they gave her in order to make it out alive; calling her a "sheep" was hurtful, but it wasn't necessarily a false statement.
There were creepy butterflies and some sort of weird humming going on, and she thought she recognized the casket as well in the next room she wa sled into. Creepy. Worse, it looked like her trident was completely on fire, which...how? Piper called magic bullshit, but that didn't make the fire look any less real.
On the first try she yelped and pulled her hand back. On the second try she got about halfway there before chickening out. On the third try, finally, she managed to muster the courage necessary to push past the pain and fear and get her weapon back. Thankfully it wasn't actually on fire or blistering her beautiful skin. She already had one brand on her face; she didn't want another.
Sighing with relief, she followed after another group of knights to see what the new deal was with the knights. Or she meant to, at least. The vision of the post beneath ended up catching her attention quite thoroughly, and before the fear snagged her heart again (the vision from the tower had been the future!) the young knight found herself falling into the abyss with a sharp screech.
OOC
My character's name: Piper Blacke Character's journal link:xxx BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER Lean, russet skin, poofiest black hair you've probably ever seen, scarf over thief's brand on her cheek, mischievous looks Rank of character Knight (1dcool
medigel
Anxious Spirit
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Zoobey Artist
Magical Incubator
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Posted: Sat May 16, 2015 10:39 pm
The red butterflies seem to multiply, until the entire room seems bathed in blood. It pushes all away from the center, making a large clearing around the casket. The butterflies themselves move more like a vortex of power, keeping something contained inside. Slowly, their shape begins to coalesce until it forms two very distinct forms.
A figure in red, the sidhe queen herself. She holds none other than Mordred suspended in the air by his neck. Mordred looks angry and scared, thrashing, looking behind him at the casket. He becomes desperate and cries out for help.
Their shapes blur again until it is simply a force of red pushing the tiny black speck back. It becomes painful to look at, and every single movement, sound they make is unearthly. You think for a moment you hear a voice-
- "Goodbye, my son."-
- And then the casket closes as chains upon chains wrap around it. It stills. The remaining red scatters into butterflies and then dissolve entirely.
There is a terrible howling and crying within the casket. It screams to let them free. It shakes and the chains rattle. And then, all is silent again.
Time passes. The corridor begins to shake, crumbling, and then cave entirely. You fall, and fall.
OOC
ALL RPERS IN THIS THREAD :
Freel free to rp an EXIT RP/wrap things up and then go here. Read the EXIT rp in that page and then exit.
Posted: Sat May 16, 2015 10:58 pm
What just happened? Micheal didn't have time to think, he just had to move. and get the heck out of doge. too late, he was falling.
The butterflies seemed to bath the room in a bloody red light which set Cadences on edge as she tried to move through the room as the butterflies shifted and seemed to transformed into two familiar shapes she took a step back and gasped. “Lord Mordred!” What was he doing here? Why did the sidhe queen have him? Wait a minute did she just call Mordred her son?
It felt like she was always showing up to things too late to doing anything or to be of any help to anyone. Mordred and his casket dissolved before her eyes and the ground began to rumble soon after sending her tumbling into an abyss.
[exit]
OOC
My character's name: Cadence Tsukino Character's journal link:Journal BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF MY CHARACTER She is tall with long black hair that is kept up in a loose side ponytail. Her armor is mainly purple with accents of black. Rank of character Apprentice-knights. ** DONT FORGET TO DISABLE YOUR SIG WHEN POSTING**
