When the fallen angel assumed the position of king in Nocturne he carved out a piece of the land to serve as his home and main base of operation. There is a single road that leads to it, a jagged path cut out of a mountain. On either side there is a fall that would be deadly for most. All along the path are those who he deemed traitors, rebels, blasphemers and so on. They hang in various parts, some mutilated beyond recognition and others still crying out to have their lives ended. At the end of the path is a massive gate thicker and harder than metals of this plane, they are cracked open so that a single person may enter at once. The area of the Tribunal is large and generally open. Pillars of the same metal jut in to the sky at random points and pews for people to sit on are scattered around. There is a dais at the very center where those being judged stand, and at the back end of this structure is a set of stairs that lead to an immaculately carved throne. It is there that Zacariah sits.
Posted: Thu Sep 10, 2015 12:01 pm
Just another eternal night in the city of Luimira. Another group of dissidents were brought into the Tribunal, led by a small contingent of demons. There were no chains to bind them, for if they attempted to flee the horde would be set upon them and that fate would be worse than what they may have gotten. Terror filled the eyes of the men already dead, they just did not know it. To the middle dias they were led, pushed upon the altar and directed forth. Natural lighting would allow them to just glimpse the outline of a throne carved from an immaculate stone. It towered over them and ended in jagged spikes, just as the God-King's crown did. There He sat upon it, body completely relaxed. His gaze was perceptible through the darkness, a haunting abyss of black peering out to consume all. Zacariah was unlike most in attendance here today. He stood taller than any elf, appeared more graceful and just as equally demonic. Gray skin shined like a polished gem as if he too was chiseled out of marble. The mighty spear Brionic rested across his lap, all too casually for the power that resided in it. In demonic a minion of his began to speak but was silenced when the god raised a hand. He dragged a finger over his neck. Their sentence was death.
No matter how the former king put it, the events that played out between the demon and his past self were forever engraved into the nearest corners of his mind. Every where he turned and saw a vessel of Zachariah, the events played over and over in his mind. First the stony gaze of disappointment followed by fists that even Alistair hadn't been quick enough to evade. There was nothing in the world that prepared him for the demon's attacks. Not his fists. Not his guns. Nothing. Yet, there wasn't a single speck of fear in Alistair's cold gaze. The azure orbs remained as unyielding as they had ever been. Every cell in his body nearly jumped with excitement with each passing moment. The god-king's days were numbered the day he decided to act against Alistair.
These... thorns. They led the pack of overly seasoned warriors, with great assurance they'd be the teams most valuable asset. Yet, there wasn't a single part of Alistair that believed that any of this would be as easy as sending beasts at Zachariah while the other team targeted his source of power. Alistair lived by a very commonly followed way of life: if you want something done, do it yourself. As hopeful as he wanted to be, Alistair just couldn't sit back and depend on some unreliable source of power. The gods... Lukhan and Catherine. How much had Daniel told them about these thorns? The god of creativity had almost just as much to gain. Surely possession of a weapon that could kill gods would skyrocket Daniel's status in the first plane. Not only had his weapon killed the god-king, but it was his doing... indirectly.
As the beasts led them to a very familiar site, it'd taken Alistair some time to realize really where they'd been. A grand mountain once stood here, a natural barrier against enemy forces. Instead of taking the rightful home of the king of Nocturne, Zachariah spat on their tradition and culture once more by creating a new crowned home. The area smelled rank with fear and regret from the several hundred citizens of Nocturne that he personally'd punished. In front of his momentarily halted feet was a narrow pathway, tracing it with his eyes, it was the only way possible to get to the abode ahead. Spotting figures being led into the Tribunal by more of Zachariah's horde, Alistair became fixated on that point. There wasn't going to be any more spying, or tip-toeing around Luimira, in fear of the god-king. No. This was going to be the day that the city would be reclaimed. With long strides, Alistair effortlessly marched along the carved path, without a single fear of losing his balance and possibly falling.
Easily losing track of just how quickly he had been closing the gap between him and the erected building, intense mixtures of primal rage and nostalgia took control. With each step, his body remembered a blow that Zachariah dealt to him. His body growing number with each long stride he took. When the narrow path grew into the larger platform which carried the obscenely large gate, Alistair quickly stepped off with one foot, jumping overhead the thorns, allowing himself to pass through the gate first. The same figures being forced into the gate before all knelt before the God-King; his finger dragging along his neck as he silently sentenced more Lumirian citizens to their deaths. More and more of his people. The solemn sound of silence overwhelmed the room when the horde detected the newcomer. Of all people... this one. When Alistair finally broke the silence, his commonly overused stoic expression was long gone. It'd been replaced with a look of envious rage. The throne he seized... it belonged to someone else. It belonged to Alistair. "Perfect. The minions and the proud 'King' in one room."
Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2015 2:52 am
Just as Alistair and the hounds reached the room an unnatural cold set in upon the room. His words would come about, and as he spoke it would appear as though he himself was willing a strange situation. An unearthly howl followed his statement. Suddenly there was a hand breaking through the ground. It was skeletal, void of any kind of meat or flesh and holding a mace. It clawed it's way out of the ground and clicked and clacked it's teeth as it stood up, staring blankly at Zachariah. It was not alone for long, however, as soon more and more began to rise, adding to the noisy clicking of bones against bone. A frighteningly sharp shrike sounded in the background; a precursor. All around Alistair an army of 200 skeletons, holding various weapons of all shapes and sizes stood with a blue light in their empty skulls and armor upon their sturdy bodies. That blue light looked upon the God-King almost angrily. As if these were the many souls of Yuran. Crawling up the walls, wailing and moaning, perhaps some also clawing through the ground, were zombies of varying sizes, ages and body types. They all looked to Zachariah, all along the gates, all over the spires. In but a few seconds all around Alistair was an army of souls seeking his head as well. The hordes presence here meant someone Zachariah had no idea was still alive... sorta... was also in play. It would take but a second for all of the dead to rise and stand between Zach and Alistair, between Alistair and the demons, and between him and the gate. She had promised her aid and here it was. Enough undead to busy the opposing horde for at least a few minutes. Enough to do that, and more rising by the minute. Catherine was not on the God King's side now.
But this was not all, no not at all. Just outside of the gates a grey mass of territory had been claimed, and a small creature sprinted around spreading the spawn territory. A quartet of mothers, birthed seconds prior, burrowed into the ground, producing toxic clouds but also perparing to spawn for the queen. Among them, four smaller still spawnlings burrowed amidst them, bursting and forming four small domes at the base of the path. She herself bit her bottom lip as she fluttered her wings and her tail seemed to convulse. Her second set of arms gripped at her stomach as the first crossed over her chest. From the tail, a swarm of Basilisks, fourteen of them at SS rank in strength, flew freely around her. From the goop, Kal simply willed to life a troop of 12 Ultralisks. The massive creatures screeched as the swarm neared completion as she touched the ground a single troop more, a group that would not need to move at all from their position to deal massive damage to the surrounding area: 5 bombarders, each one dripping acid and looking at Maria. She grasped the first one born's head and rubbed it, coddling her little monsters as the ultralisks began their march. The mothers quickly released their first monsters as Maria looked on. From all four mothers a group of roaches was born; a total of 24 of them for the first brood. Maria walked, swagger in each step along with her spider legs digging into the ground beside her, among them all as they made barking sounds and ran around on their new legs. The swarm, and their Queen, were pleased for the moment.
As her wings buzzed into action suddenly. In her mind she could only think of the sudden attack by Zachariah, how Solonor and Justor had been idle as her lands were destroyed. She knew better than to pray for any to look over her as she went in to battle. Only her swarm would be her salvation in this situation, her vengance would be taken without those who turned their backs on her. And it would be absolute, all encompassing. Not only was she doling out his penance for herself, but for the people of Pronta, of Yuran as a whole. He would find himself in the void this day. She landed, quite quickly, on the gate, looking at him with golden eyes. As she stood poised to attack, her span territory ran down it as she claimed it. Like a spider, her front legs were reared aggressively, along with her tail aimed over her head at the God King. Even her wings buzzed menacingly. You and your ilk shall no longer draw breath after this day. You have outlived yourself Zachariah; you died the day Kala made you her b***h, and it is time your body caught up. Prepare yourself for the embrace of the void. she would say as her roaches ran through the cracked opening and her Basilisks came in as well, spreading about and screeching, harassing the demons in audience with sacks of acid. As for Maria, she simply smirked as she stared at him. Her undead also began a chaotic assault on the many demons surrounding Alistair, making as much noise and attacking anything they could get close to. All the while they were spreading spawn territory, as their networked orders would have told them to. The countdown had begun, and the Queen was prepared to do what ever it took to ensure her plan came to fruition.
Even as she taunted him from atop the gates, her bombarders fired something akin to artillery strikes down on his horde of demons, careful not to disturb the basilisks and relatively clear of the undead though they were not too put off by the green goo being fired at them. The Ultralisks stood guard over them, not moving at all but ready to head in at any time.
7400 - a lot = 3889nrg
Passives
+5 additional swarm to spawns +2+2 +3000nrg Basically this
Spawn: Basilisksx2 (18 @ SS) Mothers (6 @ SS) (Spawned 36 Roaches @ A) Hatchery(6: post #1) Bombarder(7 @ SS)
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Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2015 10:35 pm
x x ʀ ᴇ ᴅ │ ᴍ ᴀ ɢ ɪمُغ ---------------------------
She sees suspicion flicker in their faces, incomprehension of her mood of speech, the soft restraint of spartan tenderness with something of violence underneath, intense in its tension. Into the seeming chaos of the company, they stride through all the demons of the icy kingdom, all the leaders and officiates of the houses and castes, the sweating, sodden mass of them had done nothing but play victim to a single overlord. All were gathered in this place by the new names that bind these gods of history now to a single pivotal instance, the few here show loyalty to a cause; a reason for perhaps their own or others. The choice is the same when you have a common enemy. To ignore it is to let it win but then to challenge it is to be drawn in. Reject, rise up in revolution, but… to fight the gods is to become one.
It isn't an unfamiliar concept, as one studying a stranger in the shadows, she drifts wordless, trailing behind out of sight. Their arrival is nothing short of demanding a head and a war to back it up. While the other two ready, she stands adjacent to Maria, just slightly behind the maternal matron as swarms are both released and attended. The dead rise, splitting the ground around the one at the forefront. Impressive was an understatement. Her gaze lingers, flickering under the long lashes between the two. Her shoulders roll and she can feel the weight of her blade at her back. It isn't truly her weapon.
A single palm raises, the red tinge of a pupil spreads to nearly engulf the entirety of her eyes. She sees without the visual dependency of sight. Zachariah in full view, a sitting abomination of opposing energies. Under the whorled skin veined by rivulets of ivory, she feels the musculature of her metaphysique, the pseudo fossil bone adjusting at her wrists and knuckles for all the articulation of her hand. Passion, the energy ichor runs in her veins, through her being, words are wires in her brain, lines of black ink under her superficial skin. It weaves its own tale, one that gives her title. It is the calling to which she serves to purpose, of the Great Beyond.
With a song of cunning vox with a smooth accent of tones played on skin, she gives but one command. "In verba mea." The words seep to the surface of pallor, etch along it like vines. Oh yes, her grimoire is in fact on her person, it has become part of her and it comes with full force. It pushes the energy on to the God-King in an attempt to leave him weaponless in the form of unable to draw such. She awaits now at the ready.
sᴛᴀᴛɪᴛɪsᴛɪᴄs
7 / 9 ⋮ 3,100 [ All Magic empowered by 2 Ranks ]
Skinweave D-SS [ 25 E ] --> B A cardinal defensive ability. The Red will lace their skin in a thin layer of extremely durable magical energy. Due to the see-through nature of the weave, essentially anyone without energy sight will almost believe that the Red is literally invulnerable to damage. However, like with most defenses, the Skinweave will be destroyed by an equal or higher-ranked technique. This technique's rank can be changed by adding more energy to it, even mid-combat.
In verba mea (lit. On My Terms) D-S [ 250 E ] --> SSS There are times when it is best not to fight. A sorcerer must be intelligent when choosing their battles. In the event there is someone who is threatening the sorcerer, they can press their energy against that person and force them to be unable to draw a weapon. This is a constant application per post, and while the sorcerer is holding their energy against someone they themselves are unable to cast spells. The energy must be reapplied once every two posts.
Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2015 12:34 pm
There was a strange moment as Alistair approached when a blanket of silence befell the tribunal. Scores of eyes watched the former king appeared from the gates. His body language portrayed a burning desire for blood and vengeance which was instantly picked up on. Every single demon present turned their head from the hybrid to Zacariah in anticipation of a brilliant battle. The fallen angel sat forward in his chair, fingers gripping in to the edges of the stone and cracking it as if it were no more than softened clay. The faintest traces of a smile splayed across his face, pulling on the corners of his mouth ever so slightly. Alistair Maric had come for his throne, finally. It had been long since determined that this night would come. From the very moment he had asserted dominance over the lesser mortals their fates were intertwined. It was not in the nature of a King to give up on his claim so easily. They would never willingly relinquish the power to an outsider, to someone who opposed them idealistically. Even further, none born under Kala's shroud accepted weakness in themselves. For months the angel watched Alistair Maric mope around, a defeated pushover who could do nothing to stop his new ruler. Zacariah's demand of the throne was done out of a righteous drive. In his inner self he knew Kala wished for him to spread her shroud across the entire world. It was he who would show the angels that their time in this world, or any world, had come to an end. Alistair Maric had merely been a stepping stone, a tiny obstacle that stood before the God-King and his fate. There was no look of surprise, no flash of anger or hatred mirrored back. He had foreseen this in his dreams. All attention flashed back to the gates when hulking monstrosities barged in behind the fairhair, towering over him and snarling rabidly. An eyebrow arched, a finger drummed against stone.
The show was not over yet. Two more were destined to make an appearance, however fleeting. Some she-insect began to expel energy by the masses, creating hordes of undead and otherwise unsightly creatures. At the command of their ungodly mother the swarmlings began firing upon the demons. In that instant all hell broke loose. The creatures of Kala would not sit idly by and be so easily destroyed. Without a word from Zacariah they sprang in to battle, flooding the Tribunal with unholy presence. The third finally cast her magic upon the god, a wave of energy meant to handicap him. Zacariah's response was slight annoyance. As the horde descended into the madness they would seek to tear apart anything in their path. Undead skeletons and zombies were little match for full-fledged demons. They would systematically make their way to the queen, looking for a suitable challenge. Each swarm bug created would find itself under assault by a demon of sufficient power to destroy it should they not defend themselves. This had turned in to a mess of writhing bodies. Zacariah was most displeased. He stood from his chair, placing his mighty spear near enough to grasp at the slightest notion. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and spoke in a voice that all would hear regardless of the chaos. "I have foreseen this. Fate dictated the arrival of those who would seek to destroy me. The coward who gave up the seat of power in exchange for his life, the weakling who watched an entire nation be destroyed in one fell swoop because she could do nothing to stop the horde, and the one who's insignificance is so profound I am not even sure what your name is. I look forward to the whore, the forgotten pagan vying for self-importance, the dog with no loyalty, and the shadowed boy who's better at running than facing any foe. Yes, I have foreseen this. You have chosen poorly, and your death will soon be at hand." Wings spread outward, reaching forth and splaying fully. The God-King stood over the battle with a general's eye, watching his minions go toe to toe with the opposing force. He had faith in his noble path, these dredges would not be the ones to see him fall. No one would ever see him fall, not again.
The former King's body remained completely still as various swarmlings and undead beings filled the chamber, each of them powerful enough to deal some kind of damage, but their real power was in numbers. They most certainly had them. As mor and more shifted into the chamber, Alistair couldn't help but admire the power that this... Kal'Shar woman had. He'd heard whispers of her through West, though he'd never really traveled too far outside of Nocturne to truly meet her. Perhaps he should have. From the way she effortlessly conjured up hundred of souls and birthed countless swarmlings... the Queen could very well create her own army. But it wouldn't stop the horde... not entirely. Many of these 'faithful' minions had been personally trained by Alistair. In the crowd, he saw familiar faces. His phantoms... they were in the crowd of Zachariah's loyal minions. It explained their absence; he broke them. And now... they were against him.
When Red walked into the chamber, her latent energy easily filled what little space that wasn't already occupied by Kal's minions and Zachariah's minions. Suppressive energy filled the air as his gaze locked on the woman. As he glanced back at the god-king, Brionac seemed locked at his side, incapable of being lifted. Alistair smirked as he realized it'd been the doing of the creature who had just entered the room. Red had taken the use of Brionac away from Zachariah, removing a decent part of his power. Hindered, Zachariah would finally feel what it'd been like to live under his reign. Oppressed. But he knew it was only a matter of time before Zachariah would strike back, and when he did... well. It was then that all hell broke loose. Demon connecting fists to the undead and swarm alike. Kal'Shar's horde was crumpling under their empowered fists. Alistair only knew how easy it was to destroy an undead warrior, and while the swarmlings could most likely fight the horde off, as the numbers of the undead were crumpling faster than they could arrive, the swarmlings were slowly becoming outnumbered.
Zachariah's expression was as smug as ever. The power being displayed didn't seem to phase him. As the demons neared him, Alistair's gaze never shifted. His expression as cold and hardened as ever. Within seconds, a demon closed the distance between Alistair and himself. The only thing that he would come into contact, however, was a ball of ice Alistair formed effortlessly. His connection to high moisture in the air stemming from his inherited Lycan abilities. As the demon's face connected to the spiked ball of ice, with a simple shift of his finger, the ball of ice easily dragged the limp body through the air, out of sight. The moment his finger shifted, Alistair's cold expression faded as he channeled an absurd amount of dark energy into his palms, causing two balls of dark energy to form. As quickly as they had formed, Alistair swallowed them whole. As soon as the first one passed his lips, a blood curling scream pierced the combat filled area. Following the scream, the air filled itself with a blood red tint in response. As he opened his mouth once more, darkness seeped out of his mouth. For the first time since he cast the skill, the screams stopped briefly. Then the chaos ensued as hundreds of shadows erupted form his mouth, all of them eager to spill as much blood as possible.
From darkness, more shadows gave birth to themselves until the battlefield would grow crowded with the shadows. Forming from the ground, the shadows worked quickly, taking the opportunity to slash at every demon's feet and legs with their elongated, bladed shadow arms. As the demons would try and fight back, the shadows would simply reform as quickly as they were struck. Shadows... they weren't like anything that Kal'Shar or Red could create. They were... more potent than anything a mage could create. The horde, even with their numbers, would soon understand that the Shadows will never tire. They exist to fight Alistair's battles. One purpose... a purpose they fulfill outstandingly.
But his contribution would not end. With a simple nod, he understood the words of his own shadow. Without so much as a slight twitch, his body radiated an intense heat, one that would fill the room in a matter of seconds. As soon as he kicked off the ground, flames would shoot out of his hands, propelling him forward into the mass of demons heading toward him. Just when it had seemed like he'd collide with the first demon, tendrils shot out of his shadow, eight of them with a jagged end. Quickly, the began to grind, forcing the jagged, bladed end of their arms to form into shadow chainsaws. Like a deadly carousel, they spun around him rapidly, digging into the flesh of every demon he neared, cutting them down as if the entire situation were child's play while his shadows flanked them, engaging each demon from every angle while new shadows formed. His eyes never left the god-king, even though all of it.
• Eternal Darkness S This is the most powerful of all shadow spells. In the palm of your hands, you will prepare two balls of shadow. The next step is simple. By devouring them both, which doesn't take long, you emulate them into your being. You may then cast this spell. The Eternal Darkness is a tidal wave of horrors. It starts by screeching very loudly, a blood red appearing in the air. Then, out of your body, hundreds of shadows launch at the foe, all screeching with you. The surrounding area will quake and tremor, and your enemy will be smashed and slashed with the force of these hundreds of shadows. The range of these shadows is essentially as far as the vampire can accurately detect. Because of the fact that they're divided into many, most spells (unless large area spells of the same rank or higher) will not be able to clear them. Essentially, this means it is better to escape. Since the spell is S ranked, you cannot simply block them with any simple maneuver. Anyone who is met with the fate of being striked by these shadows will clearly note that they've likely been gashed, dismembered or cut to pieces, depending on the amount. Each shadow will cut deeply. Enough, really, to bring the danger of going unconscious. Lasts 10 posts before the shadows vanish.
Flame Jet | Rank C By shooting flames in the opposite direction of where they intend to go, the user can propel himself forward, moving at a higher speed than normal. (+1) this can be used to launch yourself about 20 feet in the air, or even to soften a fall from ridiculous heights.
I Saw A Shadow B If Alistair's ability to not get hit wasn't already enough, Hawke perfects his defense by producing eight shadow tentacles tipped with foot long shadow saws to both attack and defend against opponents. Since Alistair is not diverting his attention to control the shadow saws, they are extremely precise. They are capable of splitting an arrow in half, or blocking a bullet, and when they attack, they go for the lethal blow.
Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2015 9:43 pm
The demons did exactly what they were supposed to, int he swarm queen's grand scheme. As her Bombarders rained hellish acid along with her Basilisks, she carved a dark smile into her face. Amid the scrambling force, the demons had distracted themselves with her undead as well as the swarm. Kal watched as if seeing a symphony, the shrieks of he swarmlings creating a chorus of chimes and tomes in her mind. She could see the demons wanted to make their way to her, and she could see that they were attempting to directly deal with her swarmlings and undead. While they would find initial success with the undead and skeletons, they would find her swarmlings much more difficult to simply kill, especially with her able to see and direct everything from her perch. Her plan was coming together beautifully, weather the zombies were cut down or not. Even that would be mitigated, however, as for each zombie taken down another would rise. The number would double by the time each one was slain, and thats only assuming each one was taken down.
And it would have been a safe bet that they would have been if not for the actions of Alistair. Kal's eyebrows shot up as she saw him eat his shadow balls and the shrike began. It distracted everyone, not just her, in fact. In the next few seconds, a horde of hundreds of shadows flooded the arena. Maria adjusted her stance and laughed a dark, sickening laugh. Her wings spread as she saw these occurences, and almost as if by instinct she took wing, narrowly avoiding a fist impacting the spot where she had been. Her tail stabbed the back of his neck repeatedly as she landed on the rather large demon's back. With a sickening laugh she didn't even look as her venom quiuckly took it's life. With the help of the shadows, it didn't appear that the horde would find their way to her with too much more success. The added strength of the shadows meant that the zombies would have more leeway to swwarm down on the demons. Alistair was a powerful ally to have indeed, or at least it would seem so to her as they had clear synergy that the god-king wouldn't have expected.
And speaking of swarms, it would be remiss not to mention the success the swarm was finding against the demons. They may have been strong and fast, and numerous as well, but none of them had ever seen anything like this. None of them had fought the swarm. The roaches were ravenous attack dogs who would not bow out until they were killed. They could take a punishment too, especially from basic weapons and attacks. As they spread swarm territory, their speed would increase as well as their attack. By the time the demons were able to put a focus on getting rid of them, they would have already succeeded in attacking like wolves in four roach cells.When the shadows appeared to help, the roaches attacked even more viciously, not worried about as much damage being sent their way with the shadows assaulting their legs.
The basilisks in the air had opened fire and were kiting away from projectiles coming their way. Occasionally the lot of them would focus their fire on a single demon, one Maria deemed especially annoying or dangerous. COmbined with the bombarder artillery they would find themselves completely covered in mere seconds. THe basilisk bombarder combo was strong indeed, but Kal didn't want to draw attention outside the gates so wih a flick of her wrist something happened to the artilery squad and all of the Basilisks. They all fell in a grey mass to the ground suddenly. Maria smiled when they sunk into the ground instantly and a brief intermission occurred between the acid rain and her next phase.
As if all from nowhere at all, 25 huge, tendril like monsters erupted from the ground. They grabbed at the demons, even ones in the air, slamming them to the ground or attempint to impale them with spiked teeth before retreating into the spawn territory and rising to attack again elsewhere. With the pure chaos and speed it would be hard to tell just how many of them their were. And in fact, not all twenty five would continue to break, about 5 biding their time until such a time as when they would be needed. Maria was pleased to say the least, at how that had turned out, but still there was more to see. For any who ever played SC, the Mother can be quite the irritation. If Zachariah found the roaches to be pests, it would be horrible for him to see what was marching, climbing the walls and flooding over next. The mothers had each released another twelve sets of ultralisks, and with that number complete, the 36 of them bounded towards the wall. With just a few hits, they slammed a hole in it and flooded in, a much more potent threat than even the roaches inside of the wall now. The acid rain may have stopped but a far greater danger was present in Zachariah's horde now. Without some sort of rally, it'd be too soon before his horde was simply overwhelmed.
Think she was done yet? HA. No Maria had one last trick up her sleeve. Anyone not paying attention to her would double take and she'd be gone, falling back down over the wall and unleashing one last child. A huge roar sounded off suddenly as a monster literally grew from her body, tearingher to shreds as it came to life, flooding thewalkway and overflowing on either side of it as the monster came to life. With a roar, the three hundred foot tall CLoverfield stood up slowly as it eclipsed the gates entirely. In a protective pod on it's head, Maria floated in swarm territory, prepared to give orders to the monster as it roared down at the god. She pointed forward and the monster slammed a bladed foot into the arena, clearing the area as it's pores opened and swarm territory flooded out around it and another troop of 3 ultralisks freed itself from it's body.
And when Zachariah thought no more chaos could come the hounds, that we all seemed to have forgotten about, launched themselves through the battlefield straight towards him, aiming to rip him apart. They attacked like a wolfpack as well, circling him and hounding him in a way that would potentially leave him open for another attack from another thorn. In this way, they would be the greatest threat to him, the strongest creations currently in play.
7400 - a lot = 3364nrg
Passives
+5 additional swarm to spawns +2+2 +3000nrg Basically this
Spawn: Roaches (36 @ A) Ultralisks (27 @ A) Liches (27 @ SS) Mothers (6 @ SS) (Spawned 36 Roaches @ A) Hatchery(6: post #1) Cloverfield (1@ SSS) (Hatcheries @ Post # 2)
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2015 11:39 pm
x x ʀ ᴇ ᴅ │ ᴍ ᴀ ɢ ɪمُغ ---------------------------
His robust conundrum paints nearly everyone of them, including the others with slander and perhaps truth. Except for her. No name, no known face. Smug as can be he sits atop his throne and looks down upon the trio. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. Perhaps he should have paid more attention to the world around him instead of holding himself up in the doom and gloom of Nocturne. She doesn't reply. Sometimes the most heroic action one can take looks a lot like inaction to the rest of the world. Sometimes the hardest, longest walk is the one the white hat takes offstage. Her gaze sweeps over the other two, each handling their own battles, a muscle flexes in her jaw once the blood-red stare drifts back to Zachariah. Energy fluxes, wafting off of him and nearly pulsates with Brionac remaining in place. Even with the godly aura and the chaotic scene ripping the ground apart, insects flying and exploding, demons harboring ill-intent. Shadows even come into play, tearing away at what stood in the way. Lastly are the hounds of war, their pack rampaging like bulls in a china shop. A swirling blur of pitch and every other muted shade mingled, sounding both howls and screeches that could awaken the dead if they weren't already there.
Sparks erupt from her hip, igniting into a full blown bolt that lights the air in a vermilion flare. It zig-zags in stutter stop motions around the beasts and their shadowy counterparts, past the morphisms of bug. With each foot cleared, the lightning gathers and draws more energy. She remains still, unwavering, a porcelain face calm and collected, holding her spell upon the God-King while the static red moves all the more closer and simultaneously faster. It would find its target, seeking to obliterate.
sᴛᴀᴛɪᴛɪsᴛɪᴄs
7 / 9 ⋮ 3,100 [ All Magic empowered by 2 Ranks ]
Skinweave D-SS [ 25 E ] --> B A cardinal defensive ability. The Red will lace their skin in a thin layer of extremely durable magical energy. Due to the see-through nature of the weave, essentially anyone without energy sight will almost believe that the Red is literally invulnerable to damage. However, like with most defenses, the Skinweave will be destroyed by an equal or higher-ranked technique. This technique's rank can be changed by adding more energy to it, even mid-combat.
In verba mea (lit. On My Terms) D-S [ 250 E ] --> SSS [2/2] There are times when it is best not to fight. A sorcerer must be intelligent when choosing their battles. In the event there is someone who is threatening the sorcerer, they can press their energy against that person and force them to be unable to draw a weapon. This is a constant application per post, and while the sorcerer is holding their energy against someone they themselves are unable to cast spells. The energy must be reapplied once every two posts.
Static Red D-SS [ 250 E ] ---> SSS Static Red is an extremely capable technique. At D rank, it begins as a ray of red lightning from the caster's fingertips, flying forth at the aimed target until the user releases the technique. At B rank, the technique can form at the elbows and arc out, from the eyes, from the shoulders, the ridges on one's chest, even the hips. This essentially means that it can be held indefinitely, if it is not destroyed. At A rank, it is no longer even connected to the caster's body, but a sentient ray of lightning that follows a target and seeks to decimate them. At this point, it is extremely deadly, and is perhaps the primary offensive capability of a Red in a one-on-one fight.
Posted: Sat Sep 19, 2015 8:56 pm
War. War never changes. Whether the enemies are sitting nations away or close enough to see the pitch black abyss of Zacariah's eyes it is always the same. Chills ran through his body, quaking along his soul and urging him forth. He wanted to dive head first in to the horde, slaughtering the masses on either end with wanton recklessness. In truth he felt thrilled to see Alistair shedding his tethers and flexing his muscles. Most of the demons that came across the hybrid fell to his knees in quivering heaps of differing dead piles. The energy expulsion from the rebels filled the air and dissipated in to the sky, all the while Zacariah watched like a voyeur peaking in on their greatest fantasy. The insect queen kept on spawning and reforming and terraforming her little abominations in an attempt to flood the arena, which was already nearly packed to the brim. The pillars and walls seemed to visible strain against all the pressure, and the sheer force of the battle was taking its toll. Large chunks of stone were dislodging themselves from the structure and flying out to those assembled, crushing indiscriminately. Anyone remaining still would have to dodge the falling debris. Zacariah merely shifted his position, letting the boulder crash in to the throne behind him. It was not until Kal Shar set lose the hounds of Daniel that the god-king truly responded. The magus in their little anti-Zacariah group had forgotten a key aspect of her suppression skill and the moment she launched an attack he was free. Zacariah's body moved like rippling water. He pivoted so smoothly and grasped Brionic, standing firmly against the assault. As they descended against him the king bent his legs and launched himself to the side, holding a hand out facing Red. From his hand sprang forth a wall of black flames, so hot that all would feel them. Her bolt of magic would meet it head on and disappear, no further theatrics. His momentary distraction looked to be his downfall as the thorns descended upon him. One tackled him straight from the apex of his leap and brought him crashing in to the ground. They would pile at him, tearing with claws and teeth in an attempt to rend him limb from limb. It was chaos then, an army with no commander. The horde was destroying zombies and skeletons with little resistance, it was through the actions of the swarm and Alistair that quelled the tide that threatened to overflow. But something began to happen. The more they fought the more demonic they became. Demons turned to aberrations, claws leaving horrid unholy burns as they tore in to flesh and teeth shredding anything caught in their reach. Black energy was seeping out of where the Thorns were tearing at the god, pouring over the floor and crawling along just like Alistair's shadow army. It entered the demons and transformed them each in to monsters on par with the strongest of Maria's. They attacked with fervor, pushing past the undead and aiming to separate Alistair, Kal Shar, and Red's heads from their bodies.
A mass of darkness shot in to the sky. Black feathered wings spread outward as Zacariah emerged, almost completely unscathed from the thorns. He held Brionic in one hand, gaze cast down at the lowly lifeforms below him. "Your strategems were well planned. Tame the beasts sent by a god to kill a god. Too bad for you, a beast can be subjugated even easier than mankind. Look to your so called Thorns of God. They are nothing before me." With the tip of Brionic he pointed, and all who looked would see a horrid sight. The creatures were tearing at their own flesh, frothing at the mouth and seeming rabid. What control was had over them had been severed. It would not be long until the thorns ended their own existence. The look on Zacariah's face showed no pity, only anger. Across his chest was a large gash that did not bleed, caused by one of the monsters. The king would permit the battle to rage on until he grew bored of it, then after allowing each of the three to respond to his horde he aimed his spear towards the back of the tribunal. The entire area was 500 feet around, and when his spear made it to his mark a blast 300 feet large would ensue. A terrible and beautiful white light would push outward, aimed to hit all three and those inside. With his strength the spear would seem a speeding arrow, and the blast an instant trigger. Unholy beings were about to suffer extreme amounts of holy damage. Just behind the blast Zacariah would be, pushing with his wings and following after his weapon.
porkchopo
The People Scream Kerron
-VL- El Hiro Fresco
Stats: 18/15 Energy: 15,000 (In order of appearance)
• Arm Spell Blocking ThingSS Arms - His arms are the vanguard of his body. They can create energy walls in front of and behind him, which will block spells for a rank less in energy, and nothing more. They can also use energy offensively, creating massive black torrents of flame that can either directly be unleashed from his arms, or be channeled through his gun. These flames are a rank more powerful than their cost. For D rank energy, the arms can unleash energy jets from the elbow that will push you forward very quickly, and can also help to create an impactful landing. These can follow the leg jets to increase the jump, or simply get to the destined location more quickly.
• By My GraceSS Zacariah can feed his energy in to his horde and turn them in to SS level monsters in terms of raw power.
• BrionicSSS Brionac is the god-like spear that Zachariah wields into combat, and this spear may easily kill an opponent. If it slices you, you die instantly. This ability throws the spear at a designated area, and then proceeds to ignite it into a massive explosion of holy light. The explosion scales from 40 feet at C rank to 300 at SSS, and the area is filled instantly with the destructive blast. Unholy creatures even near the radius will suffer huge penalties to their health and their mental wellbeing.
A faint smile
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Posted: Sun Sep 20, 2015 2:13 am
Things had begun to go exactly as she wanted them to. With the shadows aid, the undead and skeletons, along with the swarmlings, were tipping the scales, But her eyes were keen, and Maria saw things starting to sway. First Zachariah grabbed at his spear. That could only mean something had happened to Red to break her focus. No matter. Maria simply waited, watching his actions. The Swarm cried out to her, and she saw why, more like she sensed it. The Liches were the first to respond as they stopped poking through the ground, allowing the undead to fill their places, though not for long. Within the Cloverfield, she had not much to worry about from the demons for the moment but she knew that eventually it wouldn't be able to hold them back. No, she saw demons growing in strength and a black wall of flames ahead of her. The Cloverfield began to glow a bit, clouds gathering overhead suddenly. She was... harvesting it... She was sacrificing it but why? The Hounds had began to go crazy for some reason, and Zachariah was pleased with that but by the time he went to move into action Kal wanted to send a message of her own.
The Cloverfield was gone, sure, but she had her own plans. The Swarm had backed out, all but the Ultralisks as the undead were slain. It was the only prelude to her answer for his Horde. While he was busy talking about the beasts, energy welled over in her body, filling every inch as it arced between fingertips, strands of dreadlocked hair, between her wings, her head and tail, her spider legs. It all seemed to focus, just as Zachariah welled energy in Brionac. With a screech she aimed her shot at the spear just as it released from his hand. The Clashing energy would cause the explosion to occur farther away from Alistair red and Maria, in fact not even far out of his hands. Meanwhile, the mothers released 12 basilisks that simply flew up to be near Kal.
7400 - a lot = 2364nrg
Passives
+5 additional swarm to spawns +2+2 +3000nrg Basically this
Spawn: Basilisks (12 @ A) Roaches (12 @ A) Ultralisks (9 @ A) Liches (27 @ SS) Mothers (6 @ SS) (Spawned 36 Roaches @ A) Cloverfield (1@ SSS) Harvested for Heart of the swarm. (Hatcheries @ Post # 3)
Posted: Tue Sep 22, 2015 2:12 am
This was battle, nothing and no one was safe. With every swing of a blade, a fatal wound would be dealt. Every inch Alistair moved meant the death of several demons. The hacking and the slashing that suddenly became normal to him... lives were ending, and yet Alistair grew numb to the fact. As he sped along the field, Hawke's saws continued their onslaught, and with every demon he neared, another number was added to his body count. The demons were small fries... well, at the moment they were. Like a plague, a violent energy began to seep out of each and every demon. Like a domino effect, one demon began to exhibit increased strength, along with terrible growths. Others ensued, and suddenly more and more grew into monstrous aberrations. Zachariah's horde was becoming something different altogether. With fervent eyes, they remained pasted on the god-king. This was his doing...
There wasn't a single warrior on the field that truly knew of Zachariah's gifts... his energy reserves could even be, well, endless. He could be using his power right now, distributing it to each and every demon in his horde. Even now, he was simply throwing his power around, toying with them. But as soon as the bolt of red lightning flew past him, Alistair understood that whatever Red had used to subdue him... it was over. The second Zachariah raised his weapon Alistair, for the first time since the battle commenced, was truly at a loss for what the weapon could really do. Suddenly, the demon's form changed, shifting into a javelin throwing position. With tenacity, he threw it. Well, he would try. "You're good..." he calmly stated. As quickly as the heat had shifted up, it'd shift down as Alistair's eyes glowed a bright blue. With an intense growl, he continued. "...but I'm Alistair." Without spoken permission, the rightful king pulled energy from his fledgeling, pinpointing his ability to one spot... Zachariah's hand before he tossed his javelin. With an absurd amount of energy, Alistair would seal the spear to the demon's hand with ice. A seal so powerful that one could only imagine it'd take... a blow from Brionac to sever. Of course, with confusion, the god king would believe the movement could go without a hitch.
In reality, he'd set the bomb loose upon himself. Brionac's explosion was instant, no matter what Red or Maria would try to do, the explosion couldn't be stopped. Of course... there was always someone in the vicinity more special than any other in the area. Like silky smoke, she rose from Alistair's shadow, emerging finally into the battle herself. Understanding what the Shade would have to do to protect Alistair... her king... the Shade would begin to shift her form, dispersing into several other smaller shadows, linking together to form into a large barrier, separating the demon-king and his horde from the three rebels. The incoming explosion would meet the barrier, and despite it's power, the barrier withstood. Nothing would ever break through. The demons... after their buffing and changing... they would all perish. Zachariah would have something up his sleeve, but without his horde, it'd be him... and Alistair. He wouldn't be alone this time. Maria, a warrior with the strength of a thousand stood by him; along with Red... her powers were still to this day unknown to the man.
• Svipjod (Boosted to SSS) The Fairhairs can emit an extremely cold aura that will slowly freeze multiple targets in an area around them, or quickly freeze a nearby and specific target. This is a passive ability; they can constantly attempt to freeze opponents as well as projectiles mid-air, and the time it takes to freeze any one thing depends on the focus on that target. They can emit large and unspecific, clunky but not too solid auras of frost, or they can pinpoint an area and essentially freeze something with high speeds. This ability comes in handy in melee-based altercations as well as defense, and energy can be applied to it to make it more potent. It can be avoided and dealt with just like anything else; mostly used to slow people down.
Never Again SS It happened once. Hawke lost Alistair to Marishka, and the girl experienced despair like no other. She vowed, upon finishing her training, to never let it happen again. That she would always protect him, even if it costs her her life. Should Alistair get into a position where there is absolutely no escape and death is inevitable, Hawke will suddenly appear and, using every drop of energy left (though she needs at least 500 to execute this skill) to cover Alistair in her life essence. Pure shadows. This shadow barrier is unbreakable for the duration of this skill by no means. Hawke will completely take the blow, taking all of damage. The use of this skill means almost certain death for Hawke. Once per fight.
x x ʀ ᴇ ᴅ │ ᴍ ᴀ ɢ ɪمُغ ---------------------------
There was no need to mentally assess the game board. As soon as Static Red had went off, the hold on the God-King wavers, fading enough for him to grab his weapon. Simultaneously the energy weaving over and around her flesh strengths, intensifying to brace for fallout of her mistake. She immediately embodies a swell of heat, a fast ripple of one wave and then another following that produces flame. Red locks waver, their strands uplifting. Pallid pallor loses the alabaster sheen and takes on that of sun-kissed caramel, sparks igniting at the tips of fingers, at the curve of hips, across the contour of crimson refluxes. No longer is there any pitch pupil. Everything becomes red and anything can burn. The pressure ratcheted up violently, and just when she was certain the top of her skull was going to blow off and rain bone shrapnel across the ground, a thousand red-hot ice picks perforated her head and body, releasing the pressure, creating a new hell of its own. A living inferno. Neurons fired synapses, time is only a figment of moment where she remained in place, standing strong and already preparing as the others made their own stances. Her lips moved soundlessly as she casts the next spell. The grimoire bound to her body, covering it in inky runic calligraphy, now dances across her limbs like snaking ribbons. Cut from marble, smoother than a storm and the scars that mark her body, they're black and crimson. Her lifeblood is a flood of rubies, precious stones keeping veins hot, the fires find a home in her.
A wintry wind howled down between the locations walls, rolling through the battlefield, nearly chilling to the bone. The Thorns transformed, growling and whining, crying out as the tar-like liquid cling and devoured them. Turning them into seemingly much more terrifying counterparts than the prior. Her visual attention isn't on them. She can see the spear raise, watching it because energy calls to energy and the flicker of ice burst forth. Zacariah would find that not only was his spear entrapped, but his body is weighed down exponentially; in fact, he is stopped in his tracks. Gravity is a b***h. Even Gods in this material plane abide by it, a shackling chain of humanity that holds no favoritism. Any creature, or beast as he referred to them as, in his near vicinity was helpless to its thrall. As a king who degenerated into a tyrant, he forfeited all rights to his subjects' obedience. Thankfully the trio was just out of distance. From Red's peripheral's she glances at Maria, then to Alistair, and back to the spectacle before them all. Gods may work in mysterious ways, but Hell worked on efficient ones.
sᴛᴀᴛɪᴛɪsᴛɪᴄs
7 / 10 ⋮ 3,100 [ All Magic empowered by 2 Ranks ]
Skinweave D-SS [ 250 E ] --> SSS A cardinal defensive ability. The Red will lace their skin in a thin layer of extremely durable magical energy. Due to the see-through nature of the weave, essentially anyone without energy sight will almost believe that the Red is literally invulnerable to damage. However, like with most defenses, the Skinweave will be destroyed by an equal or higher-ranked technique. This technique's rank can be changed by adding more energy to it, even mid-combat.
Hell's Grasp Stage 5 [ Passive ] By this stage, the user now takes one rank less in damage from all fire skills. As a result of the users dedication, the user obtains a +1 rank in power to all hell's grasp skills making the user that much more deadly.
Heat Wave B [ 75 E ] --> SS [ +2 Mage, +1 HG ] A step up from Heat Clap, the user builds an immense amount of flameless heat in their body, only to release it at a moments notice, expanding throughout the entire area. This skill has the same effect of Heat Clap, but it also raises fire and hell's grasp skills by one rank in power.
Flash Fire E [ 10 E ] --> B [ +2 Mage, +2 HG ] When the user is about to be attacked by anything fire related, they will briefly surround themselves with a thin layer of fire to brace themselves, thus lowering the rank of the opponents fire attack by one.
The Weight of my Power D-SS [ 250 E ] ---> SSS [ 1/7 posts ] Pure energy in high measures can feel akin to gravity. A sorcerer can manifest their power as a mostly transparent blanket. The more energy they assert over an area the higher the gravity will feel in that area. Everyone in the location of their choosing will feel the pressure, even them if they are standing in the designated zone. At D-rank the area they can affect is 5x5, then 10x10, then 20x20, 40x40, 80x80, 160x160. D-rank pressure would fatigue those caught in it more. C-rank pressure would slow people down by -1 Rank. B-rank pressure would drop the strength stat by -1. A-rank pressure would raise the energy cost of any physical ability by 1.5x. S-rank pressure drops speed and strength by -2. SS-rank pressure increases the cost of physical abilities by 2. SSS-rank pressure stops people in their tracks. The pressure increases over time. For each rank the ability lasts one more post. Depending on the energy that the sorcerer puts in to it will effect the cool down. 1 for D, 2 for C and so on until SSS. SSS can only be achieved when in possession of the user's grimoire.
