Nerebia New Alteros

{NARRATION} Strange mists seeped through the town of New Alteros. A heavy fog rolled in from the East, carrrying a sickly energy with it. It wasn't long before the town was engulfed in the strange fog, lowering draw distance and increasing frame rates. And with it, came the sounds of battle. Grim figures seemed to move through the shadows, skulking and stalking. Getting too close would prove fruitless as they faded away with heinous laughter. And it was from the south that the first signs of trouble came. Reports in the town that a strange, spectral spirit was assaulting the people near the bridge. Small shops lay in ruin and travellers accosted. A ghostly drakanite of strange stature and even stranger temperments. Depravity seemed to radiate from the harsh and dumb creature as he attacked all that dared to get near. From around the mists, came the spectral voice. It was cracked and ancient. There was almost a squelching tone to the voice. It seeped into the mind, worming its way through. "People of New Alteros. People of Valmasia. Why do you struggle? Why do you resist the Dreamer's Call? Can you not hear her voice, reaching out to embrace you? Submit, children. Submit and you will live. Look. Look at this pitiful creature. This monster of greed. From another land, we found him. A debased pirate and bandit. A foolish mortal whose only goal was to acquire wealth with no purpose, no reason. Storied relics and vast hoards at his finger tips. All to appease and sate his own selfish desires and the vile whims of his sleeping god. They tried to fight. They tried to resist. In the end, they hid in the mountains, holing themselves away. Like rats to the light, they knew their time was drawing near. Rather than fight and meet their fate, they wanted to slink into the shadows, hoping we would leave. But we are patient, children. You cannot hide from us. You cannot escape. Not even grand halls in the mountains can protect you, my lost children. Give up. Submit. Forsake your false gods. Embrace the Dreamer or fight against your own greed."






Gorandis was looking forward to seeing his children for the first time. But it seemed like people had... other ideas. The mists rolled in and the screaming began... Some strange spectral things happened that he wasn't entirely paying attention too. Perhaps he could capture a few of them for himself, just like he had done in the past...

But greed could come later, first he had his woman to take care of though he doubted she truly needed it. As soon as she ran, he followed, trialing behind her to the commotion, red sparks flying off of his boots as he prepared himself for combat, the magic of hellstorm surrounding him and a seeping feeling a depravity came cascading off of him.

Whatever was attacking this town was daring to threaten his family. And they would pay quite dearly for it. All that calmness he had been masking himself with slipped away and allowed the rage to take control of his hind brain. The primal bits that boot up in extreme emotion, the ol' fight or flight stuff. And, well, his was pressing the fight button hard enough to break it.

Logic vanished, reasoning vanished as he slipped away, he identified the foe and that was all that mattered. He was ready to slaughter them for even daring to threaten his family. The air split beside him and a wet form flopped out, it shook off whatever vile mucous it's creation had brought with it and the small dog-like demon began to pant, it's long maw dripping with ichor.

At least his summons looked cool.
(Gorandis)

It would seem trouble was inbound- The fog was not easily overseen and as such, the Redeemer would have to act upon it. True, the soldiers could lead the charge and perhaps deal with whatever it was, but if the leaders of a city were not fighting, why should the people? Of course, Valeria was missing- She had... More important matters to attend, it would seem. What a poor time to be abroad discussing politics, but all is well left in the capable hands of Ryan Kyros. Or at least one could only hope so.

"Seems like we're needed, Gorandis- Shall we go?" Though of course it was foolish to say she held no fear- Even as a Worshipper of the guide of Death itself, Azrael, she could not help but to fear it. What if she lost and became unable to fulfil her purpose? Like Calliope? A gruesome fate, something she had not in mind to partake in. Only a fool feared death, but only a foolish fool didn't fear failure.

The sword of Tyrfing was drawn and the Oracle was more than ready to do her duty- Hopefully this being who claimed to know of the 'true god' was worth the challenge. Eyes were laid upon Veronica even if only briefly- She was the key to the future of New Alteros, by all means could she not die. Her mother was already too unstable and quite badly needed to pass on the Crown before she made another mistake.
(Celeana Feuer)

A dart of her eyes around and she couldn't figure out just what she had been seeing here and now-- mist? Things that did not belong in the midst of the city, and that was a certain problem. A grind of her heel into the ground and the teenager would let her gaze flicker around in confusion. Voices coming all along the way, enough to cause the girl a good amount of a frown to touch along her features. With gauntlet bound hands lifting upwards, she would immediately take a hold of the likes of Armadyl at her back, pulling him free from the scabbard held as she allowed the harsh motion to slash through the air, her eyes darkening a small bit with rieka.

What was this..?

A monster of greed? How were they anything sort of greedy when it came down to all of this? It just didn't make any good sense to her, and her fingers grappled tighter as she brought both hands down, straightening her back out as the little Swordsgirl would hold her chin up high and proud:

"We do not give up no matter what demands it!"

Nor did they hide. Nor did they run. They fought. And they would fight until there was nothing left. So what did this monstrosity think attempting to sway them into submitting? Azrael was the truth above all else, and she would make sure that whatever came near would be fended off.

Even if that meant her life in trade for the thriving of Alteros above all else.
(Veronica Kyros)

It felt... Odd.

Such was the only description this abomination of Kraus could be allowed to give. The boots of this creature rattling with every step taken at the side of Ryan Kyros, the flames that burnt deep within his skull remaining as bright as they had ever truly been. Standing at the side of those who held such power was nothing but a simple luxury this creature should not be allowed to hold, standing alongside those with strength to rival all others throughout Valmasia was but a reminder of his own weaknesses and failure to their Lord who still remained as a monolith of strength for all creatures that dabbled in undeath itself. Such could be pushed to the side for a moment as these foolish being stood before them.

"Burn... It." He murmured as the skull rattled with freedom from beneath the molten shell that surrounded Ark. The flames burning in his eyes only growing in power as a stride was taken closer towards this creature, his staff slamming against the earth as it ring for all to hear as a bell of battle that would soon be given to initiate the battle. He spoke not a word more as his staff remain firmly pressed against the earth, simply staring as though awaiting this horned beast to strike back at their Lord. To strike back at those who held strength above such fools that thought themselves able to defend their race.

They could all be reborn! Recreated through Lord Azraels art of Necromancy!

Was there nothing greater?
(Ark)

It'd been a day since Luthar had returned to New Alteros to, it was his home, whether his family wished to disown him or not, and he felt a continuous draw to gain reputation within this place. After all, it was where he read his first book on Necromancy.

But things were occurring he couldn't explain, things that never happened in his previous years here, and rumors of panic and heresy were spreading through the masses- it disgusted him at the thought of questioning the gaze of Azrael over this sacred city...

A hand rose and clasped lovingly around the pendant given to him by his estranged father. The whispers, the visions, they grew stronger- he could practically discern the intricate details on the armor of those who fought in the Divine War during those ancient hallowed days.

And then an atrocious voice pressed into his mind, daring to question Azrael's validity, his love for his people, for humanity.

Despicable.

"We aren't afraid of you, slaver! Azrael watches over us!"

He turned to see others rallying in a similar manner, and of course, Veronica and even his self-idoled immortal elder, Ryan Kyros.

Hope surged in his little ten year old heart.
(Luthar Kyros)

Gregory would walk out of his crypt home, he had usually avoided doing much of his Bulwark duties such as patrol and whatnot, he was immortal and undead, he didn't much care for busy work or patrol, matters that concerned the living is what those were. Usually he just preffered to stay in, read his book and bathe his corpse in perfume to hide the stench of endless rot. But today he was active, out and about as he did when he got bored of his usual daily activities

But now a monster had arrived, spouting off some nonesense about the Dreamer. He partly wanted to be concerned about the Neries situation, Nerebia and whatnot approaching, but if no one else these days seemed concerned with the first foreign invasion since the barriers went up, why would he bother to do so either.

He was just focussed on the creature himself, not so much what he repressented or the words it spouted out about how awesome the Dreamer was and whatnot. He'd activate his holy aura and approach the situation, prepared for battle, dressed up in his green jacket and armour, a hood pulled on over his head, and still smelling heavily of perfume.

He'd prepare for battle and whatnot, it was sure to be interesting.


(Gregory)

Something was off.

Deep within the city of New Alteros, the Lich was wandering around, his eyes peeled for something unknown. There was a chill running down his spine since the first sighting of Nerebia's approach, He, along with others, had managed to anger the Demi-god, and the thought of it coming to gain vengence was always on the back of his mind.

But how long would it be until it arrived?

As the various undead raised by the Lich marched throughout the city, weapons carried at the side, Ryan couldn't help but stay on guard. Perhaps it was a good thing that they did, as soon a sickly fog began to roll in from the near seas, filling the city was a sensation of unease, until soon a voice began to emanate from the mist surrounding them.

"Tch.."

Ryan's hand raised, causing a small rift to form, and his blade of ice was withdrawn from within. For those paying attention to the Lich, one could feel the unease within the Lich. He wasn't nervous, but perhaps anxious at what was about to occur.

"You're a fool if you think we'll bow so easily." Ryan said, his undead soon marching towards his location. "We will defeat you here, and soon we'll be coming for your god."

Of course, whether or not such thing would actually happen had yet to be seen.
(Ryan Kyros)

One True God

Daran would feel the mist as they all had approached looking for the suspect who had caused all this commotion to happen. As he would see the place was a mess. It really pissed him off on who the hell did this to the city. Nobody could let something so easily happen. How was the person able to easily just cause havoc such time bothered him greatly.

That was until they head voice of a stranger. All around he gaze to find this person. He would look then to see that the person before him was a drakanite, Though it didn't seem this was the voice of the creature. Almost as if it was being controlled. Then he could only think of one thing.

"So they have come. Damn knew the Neries would show up." This time it was not a bio terroist. No this time it was a drakanite with a strong feeling to him. It disturbed daran greatly. Though he would not let his guard down.

He would grip his new trusty companion and smirk. It was time to show him why the word of Azrael was by far superior.

"The world of Lord Azrael is stronger than any thing the Dreamer could ever produce. Today you failure will mark the day the dream ended to a greater lord. Praise the Almighty Azrael!" He would then let the aura cover his body as he prepared for battle.
(Daran Lakewater)

Strange mist and an unknown energy went on to nearing the town. Bou sadly knew nothing of the reason. His own involvement with these Neries events hadn't been the best, rather, he focused on different things like finding Gorandis or just bullying people. Now that the threat was here now, invading the little one's home town, ignoring it wasn't some simply task. Bou, along with quite a lot of the other Alterosi gaurds and even his mom, had begun to move out in search of the source of this invasion. Shadowy figures only fading away within the mist as people got closer and closer, it seemed pointless to even chase.

As Bou continued to look around, curious about all of this, he would suddenly stop and turn, another sigh given as some apparently greedy man had stood before them. This unknown voice speaking as they seemed to present this man as some sort of example. A glance around to others as they began to scream and shout and what not, but Bou hadn't felt like doing the same. Instead, he just got all defensive like the rest of them, figuring if they were going to be fighting someone then they'd have to put his head in the dirt afterwards...right?

"Lets put his head in the dirt." he'd say with a nod, darkness soon forming all around his little form as his wooden staff was grabbed, now just focusing on the supposed greedy man and others.
(Bou Zeboul)

A means to be ready whenever desired. It seemed that ever since the coincidental 'confinement' Gavin had been more ready to respond to the issues that derived solely from Nerebia's influence, that monster in particular but a mystery to the child that somehow managed to miss the last time it left its mark upon Valmasia's inhabitants.

"Too soon..." From one moment of chaos into the next, warnings go off, and a large crowd gathers within the center of the chaos, his own steps only seeming to be a habitual moment amidst everyone's presence. Veronica's demands met with a silent nod as he reached back for his axe.

He wouldn't have room to make a mistake this time, and hardly did he anticipate anything but perfection from the Kyros that boasted no means of retreat. "Well... lets get it right this time." He murmurs to himself. After all, there was only so much one could spare when it came to sacrifice.
(Gavin)

Visiting her cousin- that's what she had in mind at least. While wandering around the streets of New Alteros, Mia began weave through the denizens like a fine needle and thread through a quilt. Oscuri and the undead are ignored, as she is here to visit a rather specific person. "Vero-" Just as her eyes fall upon her cousin, the teen begins to notice a fog seeping through the city. It rolls in through the east, obscuring her visage and filling her ears with an irksome noise.

The sound of battle approaches.

Inquiries seep into her mind. Others begin to voice their opinions, state commands, but Mia stands there with a blank expression: flabbergasted. Or, perhaps she simple didn't have the social skills to respond to such a thing properly. Her mouth drops, showing sharp little fangs. She's confused, slightly scared, but forces out some form of response--

"Because Azrael."

Tightly, she makes a firm grip around the hilt of her corrupted blade. A small occultic flare wraps around the body of the youth; this coats her flesh in a web of darkness. Behind Veronica, she takes her stance- one may notice that it's a poorly placed Ifrit style. Strange, considering the lack of fire.
(Mia Hirano)

From that of the shadows, the improprietry, the selfishness, the likes of which only so dense in the long bygone era of the Saketes. Great spectral wings skeletally bound spread almost twice as wide as the height of that which it were attached. The goliath axe in hand as it's somber step gouged the earth from under each step. The great alabaster wings with no speach given from A massive shield in the other hand with effortless posture into holding it, the manifestment of greed, yet with the thinnest amounts of empath, that fate would be just the same.

"Like us before du, suffering peril, The Great Desolate Maw awaits, ready to consume du, und render all un flat desolation. Once I thought I could escape it, but all efforts, many efforts just as flawwed as positive. But what du have," The great wings spread, and with it small ripples in the lands tore fissures exposing new spans of the ocean, hidden undersea caverns beneath Byson, awash within the ruins of that ancient wall far beneath. "It all will be mine, glory unto Him." Him, not the Dreamer herself, some fragmented state of self remained, even as he haunted.

Weapon in hand, the air abound struck and stung, as the avaricial nature showwed, the iconic sinful mana aglow as the glare upon those gatherred in New Alteros' defence were made a target of, the great axe readily prepared to cleave, to smite, in the glory of some thus far unnamed masculine god.
(Hreidmar Green-Eye)

Nonsense, a voice with no body, a decadent thing for sure. Too long lived, too high above the clouds to see where it was stumbling. Prima tuned out the voice that spoke from above, as she merely filed in tune to the movements of those her superior. Her hair whipped in such ways it might well be flaying the air around her, her movements shambled with the weight of the strands that pressed about her.

Her eyes made similar intent, ready to strike at anything that neared more than it ought, anything more than an illusion. Words mattered not, death came to anything intruding on a holy land, what reason would one with the faith of one such as this girl have to worry?
(Prima)

Pelcise had gotten a new sword, something for himself to test his strength with. He was roaming the town, wondering just what to do for the day, but knew what to do. He runs off to his usual spot for training, but not wanting to use his perfectly good, new, blade for it, he decided to go with his old, broken one. He not only got a new blade, though, he got himself a new cloak, one longer than his scarf and covered more of himself than the scarf too.

A smile was on his face as he ran to the training area, with the blades strapped to his back. His thoughts only on that one matter, soon disrupted as he sees people running south, past the training grounds. Being a resident of the town, he got a little curios and ran towards the signs of possible danger. He didn't know what to expect, but maybe he might be able to get stronger from his experiences of the place.

As soon as he arrives, he sees a lot of people already gathered there, including one spooky spectre. A big gulp as he hears the voice, trembling in fear, but holding his ground. He's unaware of what awaits im now, but he can't back down, he needs to be here, no matter how scared he is at the moment. 'Okay, one scary looking guy and all of us here... Yeah... I think we can all handle him together.' He thinks to himself, hoping he's right about the monsterosity they're about to face.

He might not have control of his powers, like all the others do, but he can at least try to help them out, hopefully. A simple glare towards the spectre as he stands there, watching him closely, hopefully he can get out of this battle in one piece, like so many before it.
(Pelcise Aysev)

{NARRATION} There was something off about the depravity of the Drakanite. Greed blossomed so freely. However, what came forth wasn't the natural sin, but something corrupted by the Dreamer's mists. The grim fog enhanced it, letting it sap the power of all who stood within it. And how he drunk deep on their stolen might! (Please roll a D6 and powerdown the relevant stat based on the roll by 15. 1- Vitality 2- Melee 3- agility 4- Mana Capacity 5- Magic Damage 6- Nothing. You resist the effects of the Greedy Fog. This is simply a temporary effect of the fog! Do not panic, yet.)





The mist that came then was strange certainly, the energy that was carried aloft within the strange fog was dreadful to be sure.. But it was also curious, it's strangeness was alien and unknown, and that made it worthy of seeking out it's source. Scholarly pursuits would have to wait however, as soon after the city was overtaken by the energized fog the sounds of metal clashing against metal, the screams of those who have fallen. The sounds of battle came rising upwards to fill the air with noise.

Others could be seen rushing through the smog, shadowy outlines, unknown shapes, the cloud of white that obscured them prevented accurate recognition of who was who. Still, they could be followed, they all seemed to be moving in one direction.

Towards the bridge.

The spectral voice that came from the mist was eerie, sure, but he could only barely make out where it was coming from within the mist. Words came from Akkarin, yet there was no accompanying movements from his mouth to assist in his pronunciation of what his response was.

"When were we ever hiding?"

Socketless eyes turned this way and that as he looked at the outlined shapes of those who had also come towards the sound of the voice. "Doesn't look like anyone is in much of a giving mood either. Oh well." A skeletal hand came upwards to pull the lit cigarette from his lipless mouth, only to flick it downwards. Magic could be felt from him, as the air around him began to churn and tumble, the fog around him seemingly coming alive with motion as a cutting wind formed immediately around him.

It's been awhile since he last participated in a fight.. Or a battle?
(Akkarin)

{NARRATION} Greed was over come with copious amounts of violence! As is the Azraelite way! The group had managed to beat through the ghostly drakanite. A surprisingly quick battle for the New Alterosian forces. Almost painless, save for the one known as Pelcise Aysev. He was the target of the Drakanite's greed. The one that fell before the being's onslaught. A vicious grab and the child was held aloft. Before the spectre could be dispelled, the child would find his life force being drained. The harsh fogs of the Dreamer eating away at his life, leaving silvery scars along his young body. )Pelcise Aysev: -15 vit. Permanent.) But what of the Drakanite? The spirit was gone. There would be no satisfactory kill. No delight in beating down the dragonspawn and taking from his hands the glimmering shield. No, the fogs thickened and all sight was lost. Only a cackling laughter could be heard. The Drakanite spirit was simply gone. "Mhmm, children. How strong you are. Greed does not drive you, does it? Why do you fight? Why do you resist? Look as your children get hurt. Look upon the scars that he will bear for the rest of his very short life. But come, more toys await you all. Another lesson, perhaps. Come and see the downfall of the vain." From the north, commotion could be heard. A cacophany seemed to roll out from the martketplace. And around them? The sounds of coins falling upon coins. Out of sight, the mumble of regret. The hollow sound of despair from a broken soul. (RP at your leisure.)






It started.

Suddenly they all began to toss magic at this greedful man, the odd effects caused by the mist only being ignored by Bou as his main focus here had been to put this guys head into the dirt. Bou went on to using the water nearby and combining it with his occult magic in order to continiously smash away at the man along with everyone elses magic. In due time, he'd fallen, and now Bou was excited to do what had to be done. To put this guys head in the dirt! He lost, and such was the rules of New Alteros...At least to Bou they were basically.

He'd try moving through the crowd, but as he got in front of a few adults and could actually see what was going on, it seems the body would just...leave. Bou would look upset, this now being the second person to lose and then be able to get away from their destined punishment of getting their head in the dirt. "Why'd he leave....? He's supposed to stay and let me kick him around more...." Bou clenched his staff a bit tighter, obviously upset he didn't get his way, but not able to really do anything about it as of now.

A turn of his head is made though, more commotion was coming from up north, and it was likely to be their next place to go. He'd stick behind all the big dogs, following them as they'd probably be going to see what was going down in the marketplace.
(Bou Zeboul)

He would not be downed in the fight. Teleporting at random to the creature and blasting it with blasts of holy lightning, he was not the one to defeat it, however he would stand true in his opinion that he had at least some impact during the fight, along with have the strength to withstand being blasted to the ground.

Greed wasn't something he could truly concern himself with, why would one be greedy if they were to live forever, they had all the time in the world to do the things they wanted to do, he had all the time in the world to do the things he wanted to do, so Greed did not concern him in the slightest.

He watched as the boy was lifted up and scarred for life, and even though he was undead and indeed incapable of feeling much in regards to pain, still the sight brought him to wince ever so slightly. He would just shake his head, it seemed uncalled for, why was one so young fighting in this fight anyway? He was almost asking to get injured like that, a shame though.

He'd watch as the fog gathered around the defeated foe and how he simply vanished, he would then turn to the north as he heard the commotion in the marketplace, he'd just sigh lightly.

"Its just gonna be one of those days isn't it."

(Gregory)

Flames -- They burnt with power behind them.

It was as though this creature acted as though it held power over them. Even as flames struck at this being and burnt throughout his body it felt as though this Drakanite still arose even more powerful than he once had been. The intentions of sin and depravity that lingered from it was one that filled this skeletal abomination with a sense of hatred, filled him entirely with disgust as though this being held a right to act as though its own sinful nature displayed before their Lord could be allowed for a moment. The disgust that it brought only forced this being to stand taller, his staff that burrowed and billowed out smoke only pushing more outwards with the influx of mana flowing throughout it.

"Unacceptable..." This was the proclamation of Ark as he stood taller upon such words. Bones audibly popping and moving out and into their place as the shifting molten stone upon his body only continued to glow, chunks of magma falling from his body as a simple stride was taken forwards upon such actions. They could not falter for a moment if it meant this sinful being would be allowed to live, not falter for even a second if it meant this fog would continue to slowly consume them.

"I... It's... Very rude."

Perhaps it didn't deserve the luxury of being reborn as a servant of Ryan Kyros.
(Ark)

If one ignored Pelcise, this was quite the painless experience, truly! The victory was easy. Obviously too easy. Something else had to be in store of them, else the Lich King and Imperfect were both wrong which truthfully was not a possibility. Nerebia was worth something in the least and it had to be well beyond this to be worth it.

Gorandis had seemingly lost himself in a fit of anger- It was truthfully something Celeana would have to take care of, but with how he... Smashed into his opponent without fear? Maybe letting him run loose for just a bit wasn't too bad an idea...

But the town! Her children was still there... Azrael bless she had left them in the capable hands of those in the Castle, there ought to be enough guards to protect them from both Nerebia and Gorandis.

"What a lesson, barely worth a dime. Compared to Azrael, this is nothing."
(Celeana Feuer)

Battle lust. The calling card to an Oscuri, the thing that drove them along. It was something that she succumbed to easily, wanting to viciously throw Armadyl around above all else. Wanting to make the threats feel broken. She did not want to give up, and the thump and thrum of her heart in her chest came along the way as she gripped at Armadyl tighter, moving in a manner that reflected water itself as she fluidly shifted, body rotating as she drove her weapon forward, attempting to dig in deep.

However, there was something that caught her attention... A child, none-the-less! With the fall of Peclise, a shocked sound left her lips as she soon ground her heels in, soon coming to drop down next to the boy, bringing one of her gauntlet clad arms upwards as she slammed her fist right into whatever might've been aiming to sap the poor child free of his vitality, but she wasn't fast enough, but...

"If you feel too weakened," her head turned as she looked at the boy intently. "Stand behind me, don't get too close. I'll keep you safe. Or you can go, no one will fault you for that."

It's spoken sternly as she brings her arm down, aiming to wrap it around the boy and tug him close, an arm moving to hold him upright and tight.
(Veronica Kyros)

Just like she'd been taught- charge in, run away, charge in, run away. Dive in long enough to do some damage, but don't linger and allow yourself to get killed. Despite the fog sapping away at her mana, and the brute force of this beast, it seemed to be no match for the combined forces of New Alteros and it's visitors. Yet- something deep within her began to stir. It was something a bit more powerful than strange cravings. Something a bit more vicious than what Mia is used to.

The saliva within her mouth begins to burn, but she doesn't mind the feeling. Carnal instincts are attempting to take control over her actions. It feels refreshing, freeing, something new and exciting. Yet, much like with the drakan before her, in brings about a tide of internal conflict. Why is she shaking, why is she trembling, why is she scared?

And why does she want to bite him?

Cerulean orbs begin to dilate, allowing very beady eyes to gaze around the battlefield. The hand that is free from her blade covers her face like a mask, as the teen can only grunt during her episode of confusion.

Just what on Valmasia is going on?

The coins are ignored, everything but the strange drakan is ignored- as her mind begins to revolve around a single thought.

Bite. Him.
(Mia Hirano)

The Mimic Rampart of New Alteros was as expect, fast, agile, and decisive with her blows. As befitting of her title as a Master of Ifrit Style. The claw upon her right arm continued to spiral about. Burning with a raging fury depite the Zeboul woman's stance being oddly calm once the first opponent was done for. Landing beside her son, Belle placed her left hand upon his hairs, petting them lightly. "Keep your guard up, Bo-bo. It's not over yet."

Still, the Mimic mother placed her hand upon her sword's hilt once more. Removing it from it's stabbed-in position upon the ground. Both her hands now occupied by something or another. It was disappointing to see Eliza not here but... Then again it was one less child she'd have to worry about getting themselves killed.

"No reason for someone who cannot fight anymore to stay here any longer. This isn't even the big one yet." Man, when was Nerebia suppose to come already? Hopefully she wouldn't be rotting away form old age by that time.
(Belle Zeboul)

Azrael Prevails!

The drak was no easy one to take down. He was hitting them all left to right. Not showing a ounce of mercy. Daran was still recovering from the attack before. though he would dive into the battle. Using his holy magic to hold the beast in place. though it broke his power like it was nothing. Daran would then attack. Though knowing it would come with a major price if he fell.

Though he would see out of all the people to take down the beast was the man he despised. Though Daran would think if this nothing more then a temporary alliance. What really mattered is what was to come.

All of a sudden the voice came back. Telling them they had more to deal with then this. Up north a up roar was going on. Damn they had got so distracted the market was under seize. He would gather his thoughts as he would not wait around. The people were going to need them.

"Lord Azrael guide us through this day of despair. Bring the end of the Dreamer to a bitter close." He says with a nod and then head off to the market. Knowing the others were easily keeping up as well. Though he would see the Princess was already on sight for the child.

A glad smirk on his face for her doing her duites.


(Daran Lakewater)

IT all seemed to happen in a moment, the sudden burst of magic, the presence of skillfull mages all around. Gavin himself even became a force amidst the display of magic against a common enemy, the frozen cleaver within his grip slicing through whatever lied before him when it was within reach. Though, hardly could he find himself delving too far into the pull of greed itself, his focus more so falling upon the very tasks that'd been implied from the get go.

"We can't be falling behind, It's hardly over yet."

A mention from the adolescent that desires to see this through until the event was over, the need of others apparent while the few casualties were combed over in turn. He'd take note of them within his mind, but it seemed that Veronica had it under control, and in a fashion that was much more deliberate than the amount that'd been displayed on his behalf.

"Unless, I'm truly thinking too much of our opponent." He murmurs, brows furrowing in tandem. That'd certainly have been a mistake he'd never performed before.
(Gavin)

The power of those who he wanted to consider family was awe inspiring, truly. But he too had done his part in that battle, the way the boy weaved water and blood, infusing every attack with holy rieka- it was an art in it's own right.

However there was little to stop such a force as the Kyros and the Bulwark, for Azrael lived within them. His mana coursed through them, their gifted rieka moving them onwards to victory. But oh did the fervour of battle fuel his bloody magics.

He still paled in comparison to his immortal grandfather, however the mere fact he fight by his side was enough to nearly bring tears of joy to the boy's eyes, even in the midst of battle. And Luthar did well to keep close to his elder, safely slaying foe within the watchful gaze of Azrael and Azrael's finest.

"Azrael guides our strikes, we will never forsake the Morning Lord."
(Luthar Kyros)

Well Gorandis certainly had managed to let himself go and he fell right into his sin. It felt good to let go, felt good to have something else do the decisions, to not have to worry about the consequences, to not have to fight it so much... He had a target, a righteous one and he tore into him with more ferocity than a rabid wolf.

It was in vain however, with the spirit fading away, continuing to mock, continuing to taunt him about his family... Gorandis' fists clenched until blood began to flow from them. He lashed out, attempting to stop the spirit, to bind it as he had bound so many others, but there was something else at work, something far more powerful pulling on the strings... and something that was far more rational right now.

All Gorandis could do was follow the trail. "Celeana! Look after the kids... This spirit is being controlled and I know what's controlling it, I can feel it and it probably can feel me too... It's one of the dreamer's minions no doubt, I've felt this before when I toyed with another Neries' spirit... We need to kill it, it's the puppetmaster behind all this."

Surprisingly coherent words given the circumstances.
(Gorandis)

More still, the girl ignored that ghastly voice. A seemingly omnipotent packet of sound that didn't belong, didn't belong at all. Her faith bled from her eyes in the oddest way, basking the area around her in a dim and annoying glow, the sort of way one might imagine looking at a dim light in the dark would feel during a fairly severe hangover. She'd lost track of the spirit, she was hunting for it, she wouldn't stop hunting for it - but she was easily the slowest dog in the pack, despite having no need of legs to move.

"It's always one'a those days if ya in the righ' place, Greg..." the hairbender mused, but little else would come of her lips. She wasn't one to speak with so many around, thoughts contained. A few coughs came here and there, as her heart pounded irregularly from some sort of... interferance. Sweat poured copiously down the face of the young'in.
(Prima)

Victory.

Despite the chilling fogs that continued to roll in from the nearby seas, Ryan would push force against the battle with the Greed-inflicted Drakanite. The moment the battle began, torrents of water from the nearby river would surge forth at the Liches command, and charge towards the Drakanites location.

It would be a vicious onslaught of water based attacks, all aimed at the single target. Shards of ice materialized in the air, conjured by the sword in the Liches hands, along with orbs of pressurized blood, all crashing into him one after another.

And soon enough, they would emerge victorious, at the cost of the injury of the young Pelcise Aysev.

"Is that all you can muster?" Ryan boasted, his eyes searching the area, yet coming up short due to the heavy fog that seemed to blanket the area. "Surely that's not all you brought to face the combined forces of New Alteros. If so, i'm dissappointed!"

Of course, it was mostly a bluff. Ryan knew things wouldn't be that easy. They never were, after all.
(Ryan Kyros)

Prima: <Hm, did we lose someone?>

He truly tried his hardest, attemptingto slash at the monster the best he can at the moment. Everyone had their magic, they could all do such amazing things, himelf, he only has his broken sword, something he charged into battle with all the time. As he tried to strike, it seemed the demon kept moving away from him, keeping a distance away from him. His slashes hit nothing but air, the others being able to do much more against them, but that just makes him try harder against it.

He roars out as he keeps trying to hit the target, to help the best he could, but couldn't. If anything, he was more of a hinderence, feeling something grip at him and sap some of his life force from him. He holds back his screams of pain as tthe fog leaves silver scars all along his body, feeling someone near him. His eyes opened, glancing at the female, hearing her words. It was the second time someone was actually kind to him, just to be kind. He pushes himself off as she says it woulf be okay to flee, or if he stays to stand behind her.

"N-No... this is my home too... I'm a squire to Valora, she would fault me f-for running." He says. Random mana began to generate around him, something he had yet to learn to control. A lightning bolt striking down at him, but not hurting him, swirling around his body. He looks to Veronica with a more confident look on his face than when he started aiding the others."I can still help... in some way, so I should."
(Pelcise Aysev)

The fight that ensued was a rather quick one, and though the fogs strange effect on them. they had emerged victorious. Cutting winds, crackling lightning and bubbles. Lots and lots of bubbles. All of it was used to batter away at the foe that was sent towards them, and in the end the Drakanite had succumbed to the onslaught of the many gathered Magi.

Though he didn't stay for very long, as quickly as they had won the spirit had vanished, robbing them of a more permanent victory. "Tch, we'll probably see him again at some point won't we?" An expressed sigh came from the skeleton's bony maw, not really expecting an answer to his question directed at no one in particular.

Though not without a small cost, rather literally. The only one that fell from their side being a small chold. Barely old enough to be considered a kid, and not a toddler. Still, this was not over yet, there could be heard more from the north, an unintelligle cacophany of noise that mingled together in a rolling tide of sound, calling those many victors towards it just as the spectral voice of greed had done before.
(Akkarin)

{NARRATION} The streets were rife with combat. Citizen seemed to fight one another i nthe fog. The sounds of punches being thrown, magic being hurled and blades clashing filled the air. Something had stirred the populace of the city into a frenzy. Depravity radiated through the thick fog. In the center of it, a woman. Lustful energies radiated from her as she laughed at the fighting people. There was almost a degree of malice to her voice as she cooed at those that got too close, before sending them off to be spitted upon the blade of some other frenzied fool. The slimy voice rolled through the fog once more. Like bubbling water, it rose to the center of consciousness. "Look at your common people fight. Look at how they die. All for the fake love and affection of someone long past. Is that why you worship Azrael? Is that why you so blindly scream praise unto a long gone being? In their land, she had meaning once. Long beyond the Peace Barrier, there was purpose to her. Now, she is a faded memory. Her beauty long gone and her mind well before that. They hid in their glimmering cities. A decadent empire that once stretched from coast to coast. There was a strength once, but no longer. Broken by rebelling slaves, they retreated into a life of hedonism and corruption. All to worship some imperfect entity. All to forget their shattered lives. They did not fight us. They retreated. They sought to go deeper into drug-fueled dreams. They thought themselves safe from her reach. The Dreamer is boundless. The Dreamer is endless. Like you, they were abandoned. Like her, you will die." And the focus of the spectral woman turned onto them. (Please let the EC post and then you may do so as well.)





The spirit is absolutely amused--

Beyond amused, some might say, and perhaps a bit too much so. Whatever the case, she nonetheless entertains the notion of her offensive against the city's entirety while also offering the turncoats among them an alternative to this warring of powers - sure, they'd be enslaved, but who wouldn't want to stand beside such a beauty? She was Lust indeed, but there was no shortage of pride nor egotism in that mind of Shasleesh's. It'd be a cold day in hell when she did not wallow in her own gorgeousness, and while others were welcome to do no different, there was a slightly off-putting aura to counteract her welcoming pose - for the strong-willed, anyways. Depravity swirls, though lovingly so-- like a succubus, almost, a regal sense of raunchy obsession flitting to the noses and the ears of all who would listen.

"Many of you are just children aren't you?!", she inquires rhetorically, not hardly expecting a reply from most. For a moment, she is disheveled, though it's a fact shortlasting. A hand brushes hair out of a metaphorical face, that bundle of spiritual 'essence' far less human than probably anyone else present here. She was a remnant of a bygone age-- though by no means was her fragmented self any less strong as a result. "It's an easy pick if you're mature enough for the job." She flexes her body - which is not all that well-hidden behind a thin sheet of silk made even thinner by the ethereal nature of her form. "Think of what it'd be like to experience me up close. It's great from over there - wouldn't it be amazing from over here? More amazing?"

The alluring, almost ensnaring thrall of Lust lingers to the weak-willed, as was aforementioned.

"Come now. Don't resist. So many have fallen to my loveliness already-- just stop resisting! It's so hard, isn't it?", she imposes, stretching her arms outright as if to hug the entirety of the opposition. Despite the evident odds - something like a city-to-one - she seems oddly unfearing. "It's so much easier once you just give up. Come close, I'll show you!"
(Sheslaah, Divine Kiss)

The fighting was... Inconsequential to the sin of Wrath. Hell, he was in his element here and any civilian that dared to approach him was struck down without mercy. He had no time for this, his family was at stake and he sure as hell wasn't going to have some peasant be the death of them... Whatever was causing this was.. well it had little effect upon him.

He had to find the one he had felt. That... Neries at least it seemed like a Neries, the one pulling the strings. Yet instead he only seemed to come across another spirit, likely just another puppet. "I have no time for you you stupid woman. It'd be easier if you just had your master show himself so we can get this over with..." The storms around him grew further agitated.

"If I find that even a single hair on any of my daughter's heads have been harmed... Oh you won't even be able to understand what I'll do to you..." Lust was going to have no effect on him, not through any sort of noble cause or anything like that. No, instead he simply had a sin that was hitting much closer to home, something more personal...

Any outside source was far too late to challenge it.
(Gorandis)

The worst had passed for the only true sin that Celeana possessed was Greed- Of course, the woman before them was beautiful no doubt or at least gave the aura of being so, yet the Oracle remained unfazed. Beauty was nothing she desired nor was sex. She had been given children, nothing more was to ever reach her in that regard.

Her love to Azrael was the only true love and lust alike. "Gorandis, you might want to go seek out that spirit instead..." Gorandis however? Well, given his history with Valeria... One could only assume the worst.

Hopefully he wouldn't succumb to Lust. Again. Just hopefully. He was a father now after all. A father to two beautiful twin daughters that he best not forget. He wasn't the only one capable of getting angry after all.
(Celeana Feuer)

"Then continue on."

It'd be good to have someone with resolve in the ranks, right? And that was what he was showing here and now. With the boy standing on his own now, she gave a stern nod of her head as she soon moved, feet thundering against the ground as she slipped free of the once confines to listen to the sounds of those fighting in the distance, a grit of her teeth coming. What was going on here?

What was that awful feeling? It was something that seemed very much bothersome to the girl, not truly used to such a disgusting, raunchy feeling. "What...?" The girl bit it out in irritation as she gripped at Armadyl's hilt much tighter than before, tilting her chin upwards as she shook her head.

"The only reason we'll come anywhere close to you is to beat your face in!" It was true though, right? It was an alluring, awful feeling...

Not something she wanted to deal with in the slightest, so... She would deal with her battle lust instead.
(Veronica Kyros)

Disgusting -- They were all disgusting! All detestable!

The sinful aura that shrouded this being only furthered the sheer anger that rushed throughout this skeletal abomination. Flames that burnt in his gaze billowing with a sense of power never faltering even as the empty skull of this being stare back towards this abomination of Lust itself, acting as though even a singular soul would dare to be overcome. Yet it was not until he looked upon this woman truly, as his body prepared for battle that he could feel his own bones beginning to tremble with a sense of eagerness. Almost as though his mind was made up, yet his body still sought to move towards such a creature of sinful and detestable desires. No, he could not be allowed to be overcome so easily in the end.

"I... Hate... It." Murmured this creature as a singular stride forwards came to match such. His staff smashing against the earth beneath him as yet another wave of flames come to burst upwards from the ground beneath him, twisting to the very whim of this creation of both magma and illusions all twisting with freedom. The destruction of sins would soon be their goal, the destruction of those that followed along this path of sinful desires as though it was the only choice for them. Those that shied away from Azrael only to burn in a star for eternity and turn away from undeath simply to indulge in such luxuries.

"Kill it."

Yeah, it needed to die like everything else. They had chosen this fate.
(Ark)

He looked to the creature that seemed to be quite lusty in behaviour and design, the way it spoke and looked would possibly be alluring.... if he had a pulse and functioning, well, parts. Knowing his luck even if he somehow attempted to get the job done, something would probably off. So he just sorta activated his lightning aura once more and shrugged, it was time to kill a whore just as they had killed the other creature.

He'd look to Prima, "Yeah but thats the thing, I'm usually not looking to be in the right place for it to always be one of those days, I don't enjoy them, just busy work and strain. But work is work, lets kill this bitch."

"Lets start the party guys, time to throw down!"

He would crack his knuckles though it only really served to break skin, more stitching he would have to do after this odd series of events had come to a close.
(Gregory)

He rushes to the market place, the one part of town he likes the most, as it means he can relax for a while. He stops short of the market, seeing people fight over one person, a woman. He blinks a couple of times, being to young to understand this at all, unable to understand lust. As he keeps his gaze on her, he turns away swiftly, seeing how transparent her clothes are as she speaks. He keeps hishead turned from her, being the youngest of the group right now, not wanting to look at a half naked woman.

His gaze falls on to Veronica, the girl that helped him before, and soon hears her words. He has to fight right, he has to help them, like he promised. A nod is given as he draws his new sword out, glaring at her, putting proper clothes on her in his mind. One fight after another, that's how people get strong, right? Hopefully he doesn't get himself hurt again, like the last time.

'All right, I can do this, keep my distance and... see if I can use this magic around me.' He thinks to himself, lightning still swirling around him, making him wonder if he can do anything with it.
(Pelcise Aysev)

Another one?

First it was the spirit inflicted with the curse of Greed, and now it was one inflicted with the curse of Lust. It wasn't something he was unfamiliar with, given his encounters with the likes of Marciel Melym, but the allure and beauty of the ghost-like figure standing before them was nothing to be doubted. But perhaps it was the fact of his own overwhelming depravity, or perhaps it was the fact that he was a corpse, and no longer felt things such as lust and desire that prevented him from falling for it's charms.

"Another one of your pathetic ghosts, servant of Nerebia?" Ryan explains, his sword raised into the air once more, causing shards of ice to manifest and surround his body. "This is getting tiresome, hurry up and show yourself, cretin!" And with that, the waters that surrounded the city once more churned at his control, causing them to flow through the air, and prepare to strike down the target of his ire once more.

"Let's hurry up and end this, and rid New Alteros of these pests!"

Of course, that's if they didn't fall in battle beforehand.
(Ryan Kyros)

Everything about this is unsettling. With each passing moments, her cravings continue to grow. With each passing moment, she continues to feel as if a part of her is lost, replaced with something far more sinister. The strange energies that radiate from the woman before her forces the spiderlings neck to practically snap as her attention is placed upon the being: undivided attention.

Opening her maw, it soon snaps back shut. The offer to join is tempting. It feels as if her very being is pulled towards the creature. She's confused, and the remnants of her thoughts begin to fade as the Bulwark and company make their way towards her. Just another enemy to defeat, right? Just another stick in the road that needed to be removed...right?

Yet, she couldn't sake away the eerie feeling.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Like clockwork. the Arachne within her is compelled to come out. The lustful energies not only beckon to Mia, but something else- something carved within her mind, body, and soul.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"I...ah...ah?" She begins to scream! The lower half of the teens body begins to darken with a think and black fur. She begins to cough viciously, hacking up venom. A change, a metamorphosis is occurring and she doesn't quite understand it, nor understands how to accept it.

Though, the thing she does understand is what she's been craving this whole time, the very reason why she desired to use those strange fangs of hers to bite another...
(Mia Hirano)

With so much going on, Gavin could only find himself confused as he dashed towards the next source of trouble, the issue ahead but another reminder of what it was that'd be encountered at one end of Valmasia and back. To be met with perfection of this kind certainly left him confused, and nearly agitated at the game which had been played with every turn, the offers of each and every one making it that much more clear in which direction was heading.

The Axe within his grip had only been grasped tighter as a stance is taken, his intentions obvious in the moment he focused onto the woman. There were so many issues at hand with what was shown, the allure of perfection but a means of temptation trampled by agitation alone.

"Annoying!" It seemed the minions of Nerebia spoke plenty, their offers only falling upon dead ears time and time again.
(Gavin)

Voices

Daran would look as they got close to the market. People were figjhting and killing one another. He would try to stop them but the push past him and kept fighting. One charging at him with a blade. He would look to see it was one of the Bulwark's he trained. He would kick the Bulwark back and knock him out. Looking in anger of who could have done this to them.

The place was a bloody mess.

"D-d-d-damn it!"

He would look to see a woman. A beautiful woman at that. She was strange one almost seeming to call out to him. Her words were strong but Daran would shake his head. Something was wrong and he would not be controlled. It was like something was try to take over his mind.

He would not be a puppet anymore!

Daran would grab his blade and smirk. It was time to throw down! He would gather up energy and prepare to fight. Knowing the people they were about to fight were friends. He would not fall to this illusion.
(Daran Lakewater)

Luthar was but a child, and so he was not swayed by such a thing. Instead, he was rather confused. This spirit seemed to be trying to allure the whims of adults, or something- that's al he couldn tell. And then it washed over him, that strange sensation that exuded from the sinful spirit.

"Ehh.."

And then the others seemed to insist on ridding the city of this spirit, the young Kyros included. For whatever emotions this fiend brought forth were foreign enough to him for it to feel alien and out of place. He couldn't quite understand what the purpose was.. yet, but it felt dirty.

Water surged foth and crashed from the surrounding bodies of water that bordered New Alteros, blood hissing and sloshing towards her form all aiming to make quick work of this 'sin'.
(Luthar Kyros)

Prima found herself slowing down at the surreal sights that other no doubt saw before her obscured vision. Tendrils pittering, pattering, and falling to motion none and a half. She was some four meters off of the ground, long strands of hair supporting her like hyper mobile pillars and pistons of a biological machine. A pre-teen who spent her days in armor, she was hardly distracted by the spirit,

"It's more than work, when somethin' might die, though it seems we're fightin' the dead..." she remorsed, in a way. No blood would be shed outside of their magical firing squad, other than that of the citizens it might seem, "Eh? Yep yeah. Let's drop 'er like a rock."

Spidering limbs of hair twisted over the scenery, lightning snapping downwards amongst countless unnaturally long strands of hair, ready to zap at anything that came- like a laser, non-lethal if one were lucky. Luck was an important factor in staying alive, wasn't it?
(Prima)

Another spirit within the chaos of the marketplace, the citizens seemed to attack one another in a frenzy of sword and magic. Just like the one that had come before, this one too had a eerie feel to her, just as the fog did. Everything about this seemed all too sinister. This time though, there was something more alluring about the foe that had come before them.

This woman was enthralling, her beauty was nearly inhuman despite her clear transparant state. It was beauty that had gone past simply being physical, but an emotional tugging force, a feeling that pulled you inwards-- towards her.

It was ruined however, by that off-putting aura that came with her however, a depraved love. It was sinful, and it was powerful, obviously so.

Shaking his head slowly, he moved his socketless eyes away from the woman to look towards those near him as each one seemed to be readying themselves to fight in their own way. "Guess we put her down just like the last one then." Winds rose upwards in a gale as lightning crackled between his fingers. From the airmist, was pulled spare water to form a ball that hovered above his skeletal palm. With his own preparations finished, he looked forwards once again, towards the woman.

Everything else aside, she needed to be stopped to protect the populace.
(Akkarin)

{NARRATION} Unfortunately, the group was going to have to go three for three on this one. A sound of eternal irritation seemed to come from the mists. It sounds like someone was becoming increasingly frustrated by these events. The foul fogs thickened and surged around the group! The power of lust semed to grow stronger. Unlike the last one, there was more invested here. Gorandis would feel a sense of panic in the fog. A lot of effort was going into this spirit as a horrid screech called out in their minds. But the area was flooded in the strange magic of the Neries, pulling the spirit back into the area. But this one seemed far more unhinged and erratic. It blinked in and out of existence, as if trying to escape the place in fear on its nonexistence.



{NARRATION} Moving on in the story of poor decisions and underbalancing in fear........... There was a psionic shriek. An angry, pouting scream of rage that rang out through the minds. As the decisive blow was handed out to the spirit, the fogs grew thicker once more, whisking away the enetity. No snarky words to roll forth. No 'lesson'. Just anger. Pure, petulant anger. It seems that the forces of New Alteros had things on lock here. Of course, there was commotion from outside the keep, where it seems the bulk of the army was located, engaged with something. Who knew what other annoyance would be brought forth? But the fog seemed to grow thicker.




It would seem that Celeana beat him to the punch this time. It brought nothing but a smile to his face. A beacon spearing through the anger to make him laugh. He had found a good woman to mother his children. They made a good team by the look of it, the pair of them each landing a single finishing blow, one after the other.

And then the fog of anger rolled in... it almost made him laugh, this piddly little thing was meant to be anger? It was nothing, mild, a complete disappointment. Oh he would show them what anger truly was and he would show them first hand, just as he did with the first spirit, and just as he had done with the second. Whoever they were, they were not in for a good time.

"Good work Celeana... But it seems we're not done yet."
(Gorandis)

He watched as the creature was defeated and he would nod. Were he alive he perhaps would of given in to temptation, but as a member of the living dead, well, matters of physical attraction alone could not sway his will, so he fought hard to try and defeat her, blasts of holy lightning rippling away in the market.

And once more, while he did not do the defeating, he still felt that he did a good part in fighting back, and felt confident in his abilities. He was Gregory, the most stylish and most glorious undead servant the world had ever seen! And his powers would not pale when compared to that fact.

He'd ready himself for whatever came next
(Gregory)

Done

Ding! Dong! The bitch was dead. They had finally all band together once more to take out another foe. She was tough as nails though. The woman power was very hard to deal with. Yet, they seem to come out on top of the situation. He was glad to had avoided the power she was baring. He could only imagine the strikes the woman was giving.

As he would slam his blade on the side of her he would see the others take over. Still with that he would then watch as the fog got thicker.

Great

Of course though stuff was happening by the keep. Daran would hurry as everyone of the citizens seem to be okay. He checked on the guards. Instructing them to get their stuff and fix everything and help the people. As for the rest it was more ass kicking to be done.
(Daran Lakewater)

The Keep? Oh no, not the Keep! That was where her babies were!

Quick to the rescue, the Redeemer would rush towards the Keep of New Alteros- The castle which housed the royalties and Redeemers alike. One thing was hurting the citizens, a sin was to call Azrael false, but to harm the children of a mother? An unforgivable act.

"This is an annoyance, let us slay it already in the name of our Lord!" She spoke whilst moving, her gaze only once averting from the Keep to pay attention to Gorandis. Unstable and non-trustable were not even remotely close to being enough to describe him.

He could lose his temper within seconds and whilst he had never met his daughters, he still seemed more attached to them than even she. If he got mad from people calling them names, one could only imagine what physically harming them could do.

"Our daughters are there, Gorandis. We are far from done."
(Celeana Feuer)

Certainly did the fights last much longer than what had been anticipated, for the strain that came with the use of his magic certainly did show. Though, this time did they certainly seem to be pulling through without injury, such being a successful venture on their part to ensure that everyone remained on top of things.

Though, all the more does it leave the adolescent wary of complacency, as his focus would remain strong throughout, despite knowing fully well that it'd only be a matter of time until he grew agitated enough to lose his patience.

"Lets get this over with!" The child grows, eyes tracing towards thesource of commotion. By now, one could tell that he was almost spent, and even furthermore done with having to deal with one spawn after the next...!
(Gavin)

Beneath the onslaught the spirit of lust fell, for what force could truly withstand so many potent magi, the Lich himself, Luthar's cousin, the young but neglected Kyros, the Oracle. All of these and more were here to defend home and faith.

"Be judged by Azrael!"

A ferverous battlecry that escaped the boy's lips made it clear his intentions for any who questioned loyalty or faith. Luthar was done hiding from things, he'd show his capability here and now, fighting by his allies sides, whether they knew he was there or not.

His eyes flickered from Veronica to Ryan, to Celeana, their resolve remaining true in the face of such a deceitful enemy. It only strengthened his will to resist whatever else this pathetic mana-eater would throw their way.

His staff slammed against the bloodstained cobblestone and called forth several shards of solidified blood, floating overhead, waiting to be sent forth to pierce enemy flesh.
(Luthar Kyros)

Prima was herself quite astounded to be working with a group of such power, it sent her heart fluttering- or maybe that was intruding mana penetrating deep into her soul, it was hard to tell. Gregory might realise at this point that she was mostly following him around, using his flashes as a waypoint for hair-covered eyes to follow. Anything that didn't glow, she could hardly see through such a mass of tendrils.

The girl was hardly even sure of what she was hitting, perhaps she was even following the arcs of his stylish lightning for the guidance of her own attacks, who in Azrael's name would know amidst the practically exploding streets and the dust flung all about?

"What a sound... reminds me'a my family home."
(Prima)

A well fought battle, the boy bobbing and weaving, moving with a grace he hadn't shown in his previous battle. He seemed to be tapping into more magic, seeing other using all sorts of other spells. It made him want to try it out, sending forth waves of different elemental attacks. He didn't know where all this came from, but being able to attack from a distance with all these spells helped him, keeping a distance from his target.

He hears the screams from the fog as the woman falls, thinking it was over, but it wasn''t. She got back up, making the boy lower his head a little bit and go back to moving about with an unknown grace. He seemed to be doing good at keeping his distance from his target. His spells helping with that much. 'Where is all this power coming from?' He thinks to himself, seeing all the others try as hard as he is. After she fell the second time, he'd be panting and sweating, his clothes a little bit torn in places and more injuries along his form.

This is one hell of a fight, but he has to keep going, no matter what. He looks to where the screams come from now, eyes widening towards the keep itself. He clutches his blade tightly into one hand, rushing in the direction of the place he sleeps. The sword, usually held in two hands, is held in one hand this time, meaning the boy either got stronger, or his adrenaline must REALLY be pumping. Whatever it is, he seems to be in control, for the moment. He has no intentions of backing down, not now.
(Pelcise Aysev)

Victory once more.

Despite the potent sinfuly magic the spirit before them wielded, it held no chance against the combined might of the New Alteros bulwark, and associated allies. Between potent fire magic, bolts of occult-infused lightning, and plenty of bubbles launched towards the spirit, it soon fell before their might.

But something was off.

With the spirit gone, it seems that there would be other things would require their attention. Towards the keep there were sounds of battle that resounded through the air, perhaps the only signal of what was occuring with the potent fog surrounding them at every angle.

"We must move quickly now, who knows what else might be waiting for us.."
(Ryan Kyros)

The draining feeling of Neries trying to pull them down. It was not a good thing in the slightest, and it was enough to cause a bit of a dire feeling within her. Shifting, moving, she would allow her battle fury to fuel her onwards, aiming to crash and slash Armadyl right into the thinly veiled woman, aiming to leave nothing behind of the spiritual presence. One could see it! The manner by which she was dictated by fighting, the fervor leaving her invigorated, the adrenaline and rieka rush unlike a drug unseen by any human, but thank goodness they were in a city filled to the very brim with Oscuri, right?

No need to watch the Princess attemping to beat the shit out of someone with little to no drawing back. With no remorse.

Slamming her feet down into the ground, she would keep her silence despite the clamor all around, and into the mist she would go further, following along to whatever need there had been.

It was time to get this show on the road.
(Veronica Kyros)

Even with the changes occurring within her, primal fear held her back. Her thinking began to change, her mind began to sway. It was as if the teen could only rely on instinct, and her instincts told her to run. She began to backpedal, attempting to escape, that is...until the feeling of unbridled anger begins to radiate from the keep.

Time and time again she'd been denied of her cravings due to the work of spirits, but perhaps now things would be different, perhaps now things would change?

She grabs at her head, fingers twining between ebony locks. She screams, she cries, she wails. Something is happening and she doesn't understand it. Is this the change her father spoke of? Is this what she'd been warned of?

Is she becoming a monster?

While her human legs continue to turn, and run in the other direction- she is forced to stop. Falling to her knees-- or what she thought was knees. It's painful, the growths, the extra appendages, the extra eyes- everything that occurs within this moment is little more than painful. Fists slam into the ground, punching away at the concrete as these sins had managed to break her free from her mortal shell--

The Arachne has woken.

What falls from the teens lips is a scream, loud, relentlessness. Tears fall from all eight of the beady eyes that now rest upon her visage, and all she can do is let her body take over- rushing towards the keep without a second thought.
(Mia Hirano)

Bubbles were thrown outwards menacingly, mere distractions compared to the heavy magical blows thrown outwards by the stronger magi present. Though that certainly didn't stop Akkarin from handing out a few shocks of his own. With that fight finished however, it was time to move on to whatever else was coming afterwards. Probably another fight given current information.

All the same, it was a fight that he would walk towards willingly, as empty eye sockets turned towards the Keep drawn towards it by psionic anger, a rather large deal of anger if one were to judge it so..

It seems whatever was controlling these spirits was losing it's temper, and that brought out a little chuckle from him. "Bit of a sore loser isn't he? Didn't even try telling us to stand down or forsake each other." A slow shake of his head, the motion somehow conveying his disappointment and amusement at once.
(Akkarin)

{NARRATION} Before the keep, it seemed like a scene of battle. A squad of soldiers lay about the land, battered and bleeding. Some seemed in the grips of death, while others seemed unharmed but out for the count. There seemed to be little rhyme or apparent reason to this. In the center of it all, an armored woman, gleaming swor din hand. The storms seemed to move at her whim and beckon. It took root in their mind, the psionic voice. It seemed agitated, almost panicked. There was a sense of hatred about it, of contempt and frustration. "YIELD. YIELD I DEMAND IT. THE DREAMER WILL FEAST UPON YOUR FOUL ENERGIES. YOUR CORRUPT MANAS. LOOK AT YOU. ALL OF YOU VILE SCUM. SENSELESS BRUTES. VIOLENCE IS YOUR WAY OF LIFE, ISN'T IT? YOU WILL BE PURGED. YOU WILL BE CLEANSED FROM THIS LAND. VILE WRETCHES WHO DARED TO CHALLENGE THE DREAMER. I SEE YOU. I AM HER VOICE. I WILL PUNISH YOU." A scream followed and all was silent for a moment. The ghostly woman flickered in and out of existence before the grim voice returned, seething with petulant hatred. "Barbarians. Worst of them all. They see it as sport. They see war as a game. All a challenge to be surmounted. All in the name of their vile god. Do you know their goal? Do you know what drives such savage fighting? They scream of honor and loyalties. It is a front. You should see them fight one another. Fight their cousins in the mountains, their former masters in the glittering cities. Unwashed hordes that seek only pure violence. They fight. They fall. They fight. They die. They did not care. They worship their hatred and abiltiies. They see boon in their corrupt ways. Go on. Pit yourself against the spirit. Build your pointless legacies. You will rot. You will be worm food as your pleas are ignored by an uncaring god. Just as hers were." One more spirit. This one seemed different. There was no apparent sin. No explosive power to feed into the Nerebian mists. Perhaps there was something there, but it did not explode forth like the others. (Let the EC post and wax poetic)






"Hahn."

The spirit steps out, a faint scent of ozone surrounding her as her hands grip her blade, held upwards before her helmed face. There is a quiet level of almost serenity about her, a gaze outwards as cold mist gathers about her feet, sternly booted in simple-seeming leathers, tied up in bone-hilted corsetage.

Her armor is underneath a navy cloak, practical, bent, and torn, covered in slices and burns. Her cloak bears the scars of battle proudly, carried with her into her memories, the left behind phantasm of a once proud warrior unbent, unbowed, unbroken.

"I am ready. I am here to fight until I no longer can- I am unbent, merely bested." Her voice, deep and powerful, rings out with the force of any general, with the brogue of the Karkizan north carrying powerfully, but she enunciates with a deadly force behind it.

"He speaks quite a lot, doesn't he?" It's spoken so dryly it would be hard to tell if it was laced with sarcasm, or a mere commentary, as she steps forwards. "There is nothing ill born of honor, of giving yourself over to bloodlust and the chosen who walk amongst us to grace us with their prowess in battle."

"They would never understand the refinement through the trials of battle. A blade proven through blood is the finest forged, and there is no rest for the eternal warriors. Even though they bested me, it is sad they see it as weakness. I carved out far more than they could ever hope to replace, in spite of their craven tactics."

A sneer, glancing upwards- A disobedient spirit, whole and hale in her devotions.

"But do not think my spirit is not truly virtuous- I fight for the victor, as it should be, and my pride is not one that was worn away, or scuttled like their metal boats upon our shores." She brings her sword down in an arc to rest, like a powerful bulwark. The mists catch the saintsfire of lightning, arcing through them like a cloud when the tip touches down to the stony earth.

Despite it being wholly unnecessary for a phantasm, she rolls her shoulders, as though to crack them, warming for battle.

"Let the victor babble. Draw your blades if you must attack me so; one upon all- Cowards." Her chin rises high into the air, eyes misty and distant in her diaphanous glory. The 'skin' that can barely be seen underneath her helmet is ragged and torn to show teeth in a cruel, ragged cut-away from her lips, flesh oft torn.

"I will show you true strength, undiminished by these games."
(Skadi the Sky Dancer)

{NARRATION} Frustration was the emotion in the air. The spirit is snatched from the field as Veronica lands a deciding blow. What could have been a moment of triumph was simply snatched away in a flurry of anger and hatred. There was no psionic screech this time. There was only an annoyed sense of hatred. All around them, the og started to fade away, drifting into the keep proper. A low groan could be heard as the keep started to shudder violently. All followed by an angry hiss. Thankfully for Prima, it seems Skadi was pulled away before she could do any real damage.







That had been news for him... His daughters were in the keep... The keep where the presence he felt was attacking from... And yet this woman thought she could stand in their way... Not for long. While house Feuer for once didn't get the final blow, perhaps that was due to the newfound urgency of getting within the keep, to where their children were.

Gorandis was at a loss for words, he had none, he could think of none, he was worried and behind that worry was piles upon piles of nothing but pure rage. Rage at everything, these spirits, these creatures. All of it... No words were shouted to Celeana, no other actions were taken. He only sprinted into the Keep, expecting her to be close behind him.

The rest of these people could trail along if they so wished, he had far more pressing things to take care of.
(Gorandis)

Only A Dream

Daran would hear the voice scream at them. He found it quiet funny as they had upset the almighty anger of the Dreamer. It seems the voice of this creature was not to happy with the result of things going this way. He could care less as he wanted to see this thing just end and die. In the name of Azrael they were going to do just that. As they would see at the keep was another person.

"I can only imagine what this one will do. Best be on guard everyone." He would swing his blade around. So this one was going to be a problem also. Well that was just brilliant. They could literally take this one down and then move on to the next set up business.

He would then see the statues of legacys presented behind the woman. He would grip his blade as something bad was going to happen. All of a sudden the woman began to speak.

That was thing though at the time. All he heard was blabber as he attacked. Not going to show the woman mercy. They all assaulted her with many attacks. It seemed though as he watched her take down Prima. He would panic though be relived as the Queen had come and finish the woman before she could end Prima's life.

"Prima are you okay?!" Running to check on the girl.
(Daran Lakewater)

He fought once more with all his might, streams of golden lightning blasting forth from his fingers and at the spirit they fought, he knew he would not be the one to land the finishing blow, but ever little strike counts, everyone needed to do there part and he was doing his. He blasted bolt after bolt at the creature, he would not stop. Though as he did this he just couldn't resist the urge to yell something out to it.

"Man, you sure do like to talk a lot. I mean, I love monologues and whatnot, lord knows I'm-" he'd move out of the way of a possible strike before going to continue speaking and attacking, "-one he tends to monologue on occasion myself, but you were soooo boring. Your doing all this for your god right? The Dreamer or whatever its called. Well, if you really believe that its gonna beat the forces of Azrael"

Another blast of lightning, "Keep dreaming!" And as expected, it was not he who downed the creature, hell, in the bustle and bluster of battle his words were likely drowned out and his attacks possibly not even noticed in the grand scheme of things. In the end he'd move over towards Prima.

"Prima! You alright man? Did some pretty good fighting out there."
(Gregory)

"Is this truly all?" Whilst Veronica was quite strong no doubt, she was still just a child and this so-called challenger of Azrael had been bested by one. It was a... Humiliatingly poor performance to say the least.

Was there truly nothing the Dreamer had in store for them that would allow any type of challenge? Well, perhaps that was for the best- The city didn't need any more damage than it had already sustained and they couldn't exactly spare a man if they wished to march on the Imperfect before he actually ascended again.

What a poor timing the creature had, truly. By now they could have probably ended the heretics in Loranthis, but alas they are halted by a third party who felt like killing themselves.

"Magnificent blow, Veronica." Sounded her words, the Redeemer remaining on the trail of Gorandis who seemingly had the same idea as herself- Though soon enough her hand would find itself onto his shoulder, "Wait, stop yourself Gorandis- As you are now, you are even more dangerous to them."
(Celeana Feuer)

Once more, he fights with the same grace, still wondering where this is all coming from, but he does his best. He moves around, almost gliding along the ground, keeping the same determination in his eyes to keep the place safe. This time, it was his home, the castle, the place he lives. He has to protect it, or risk sleeping on the streets once more.

His barrage of elemental attacks hitting the demon in a human form. His blasts hitting their mark as he tries his best against the monster. He smiles as he sees the girl that helped him before, about to land the finishing blow, only for the demon to be pulled away from her and, into the castle. Now words spoken from the odd voice, not a single thing, just a feeling of anger and hatred. He looks around, trying to find out where the next target is and... the castle.

He snaps his neck, looking towards the keep as he hears a groan coming from within, followed by a hidd. He's come this far, no point in backing downnow, right? He charges in, once more, tossing his heav shield aside as he was getting tired of lugging it on his back. He just needs to keep going, to protect the people of the town and his home. He also wishes to make sure the person that tried to help him, doesn't come to any harm, she seems important after all.
(Pelcise Aysev)

A vicious trudge into the mist. To make her way inside without any kind of remorse. There were screeches, there were sounds that made someone want to rake their very fingers against the sides of their face, but she worked toward holding herself together above all else, even if she was not truly 'together' as it would seem. The addicting twist and movement of rieka through her very body suggested that she was not keen toward giving up. Let the loser babble rather than the victor.

Veronica had no words, she was in her zone. It was apparent to see, the demonstration of moving fluidly with Armadyl clutched in her hands, the twist and motion of the hilt of the sword twirling along her hands as she used illusionary tactics embedded deep within the fabled weapon to cause the darkness of despair.

And with a barreling motion, she soon slammed her body forward, aiming to carve the blade through the midsection of the now dissipating spirit as she gave a bit of a snarl, lost within the grips of battle for the moment.

And upwards, she tossed herself, body toppling right over itself in a backwards flip, feet crushing down into the walkway, causing spiderwebbing cracks to form as she looked toward Celeana, a nod of her head coming as she moves to head into the keep, undoubtedly headlong above all else.

Of little words, but that didn't mean she would not regard, mind. There was a mission, and that mission begged completion here and now.
(Veronica Kyros)

The eight eyed beastly teen only nods towards Veronica. She opens her maw, attempting to speak, attempting to say something- but she found it difficult to talk with her kin. Would the Oscuri view her as a 'monster'? An abomination? Mia knew the change would be drastic, but to experience this? In confused her, in scared her, yet...it enticed her. For the first time she didn't feel inferior. For the first time she didn't feel useless.

A smile creeps upon the Arachne's lips as she craws towards the innards of the keep, moving along with the congregation that made up the Bulwark and New Alterosi forces. All eight legs begin to stomp as the 'newborn' spiderling begins to continue the hunt. Sniffing, she attempts to smell out anything that could help her deal with the urges. Anger and malice are felt, but she isn't searching for well-known emotions, she is searching for something simple- something to make toxic.

(Mia Hirano)

Veronica Kyros: <*ur too cute to be a monster its ok*>
Mia Hirano: >//<

And down did the third enemy go, this bout but another victory in th ename of New Alteros. It was however within his eyes as another step to some untold condition, the amount of enemies that had appeared when he thought it to be over leaving him to a certain pattern. But this was the least of his worries, for it'd only be a matter of time until he found himself conflicted with waht to expect, and what it was he wanted to do.

Frustration was at a constant, where it became visible within his countenance. Impatience, and an expectation for this to be over. Just... how much more would they have to endure?

"Hmn..." He grits his teeth, purple hues glancing about in wait of the next spectacle, if there would even be one. . .
(Gavin)

Water churned.

With a movement of the Liches hand, the water surrounding the keep surged forth and moved at Ryan's command. It floated through the air, moving and changing as his magic took hold. Each spell clashed against the spirits body, causing minor yet scaling damage with each hit. Shards of ice pierced into phantom limbs, and water attempted to bind it's movements.

Combined with the others magic, victory was soon in their grasp.

But alas, before they could celebrate their victory, it seems that Gorandis soon rushed off into their keep. Why he did so was beyond him, as Ryan was unaware that his own children were situated within!

His attention shifted to Celeana for a moment, a confused expression on his face, before his hand gripped tightly around the crystalline blade, and chased after Gorandis.

And yet, he had no idea what might wait lurking for them within the Keep, considering what they've already encountered.
(Ryan Kyros)

So the bizarre, angry spirit fell just as the others did to the forces of the Forsaken Bulwark of New Alteros. The power of the Oscuri was not to be belittled, Azrael bestowed formidable power upon his chosen humans- his few warriors.

The spirits seemed be stolen away before they could truly fall- before any spoils befell the militia, as if some force was doing whatever it could to spurn the victories and make them turn sour. And so Luthar turned his attention to the keep, watching Gorandis hustle by, likely after his daughters.

For a sin to show humanity, it was something of a testiment to the bond a parent held with their children- no matter what one may think, humanity always remained.

He recognized Mia's aberrated form.. and though it was truly bizarre, Luthar found more curiousity than fear or disgust, after all, she'd been rather kind to him. Unlike his own family.

And so the young Kyros followed after Veronica and Ryan into the keep, staff held aloft and at the ready.
(Luthar Kyros)

Reactions of Prima, emotionally, unreadable at this point. Fighting- they were fighting, again? It was almost tiring, and getting more dangerous. Even condensed, protective hair and elevation couldn't protect the girl from force that had been honed much beyond hers. All her attempts to stay out of danger and rain hell were just making her into a target for this woman. Was she even a warrior, in face of such a person? Were any of them? Well, the others had managed to evade better than her...

A blade through her hair like the layers weren't even there, a strike that made waste of the staff beyond it- the mana gathered within it exploded in a wonderful show of fireworks, and she fell from her skywards perch and towards the earth with smoke trailing off her form and nothing but hair to cushion the impact. A follow up would, have indeed, been quite easy.

Luck was all there was to be said, of the pink thing that descended violently to the floor of the world. As Daran approached with such hurry, he'd find her with her eyes almost entirely shut, limbs laying just about wherever they wanted. But, a lock of hair formed a hand, and protruding from its top was a thumb of pink hair.
(Prima)

Well that fight was underwhelming certainly given the spirits big words that had come before the battle-scarred warrior had openly challenged the entire group. Water splashed outwards, drenching the spirit in it quickly followed up by stringent shocks of lightning that only amplified his finishing blows, all while cutting winds and concussive blasts of air battered at the spirits form.

Annd just as before the spirit lost soundly. It's barring presence no longer keeping them from entering the keep itself, while the frustration of the one behind these spirit attackers only grew with each defeat it suffered.

The strange transformation of one of the teenagers, brought a discerning eye forwards though it did not remain long. It was rude to stare after all, and his attention turned towards Gorandis and Celeana as each of them rushed into the keep, though it looked more like Celeana was rushing after Gorandis in particular instead of into the keep. All the same, between those that had gathered after the quickly decided battle, Ryan was the figure that Akkarin focused on the most, and as he moved forwards to enter the keep, so would he.
(Akkarin)

{NARRATION} The fog in the keep was stifling. It was hard to breathe and even harder to see. Grim shapes seemed ot move about in the keep. It wasn't until the party full entered that the smog would slowly dispearse, leaving only the haze of suppression nearby. At the foot of the dias, stood the Archbishop. He was... short. Almost unimpressive. The man seemed deformed. His voice was a gurgle as seedy eyes stared at the group from behind a horrid mask. His staff clutched nervously as his misshapen horns seemed to cling to his face. Breathing heavily, he gestured to the three spirits behind him, all seemingly tethered to what could only be described as ancient fetishes. Skulls wrapped in wire, bound by runes. The Archbishop seemed to be drawing from the power of the fetishes, the spirits bonded to him through it. And the area seemed oppressive. The fog was imbuing the slimy man with power. What ever imposing figure of great stature they were hoping for, they would never got. Instead, they got him. A deformed monster playing with his puppets. "Vile beasts. I gave you chances! Chances to learn! Chances to quit. Forsake your god. Bend a knee to the mercy of Nerebia. She will have use for those of yoru strength. Do so, or I will add you all to my collection. Especially your children, Hatemonger and Oracle. I will force them to scream out the name of Nerebia before I snuff out their life. And you, Lich Kyros. I will find your soul jar. I will feed it to my god. And you, wielder of the mimic blade. Your friends will die to me. Their spirits to be descecrated for eternity. Yield to Nerebia and mercy will be given. Fight against her, and suffer fates worse than death!"

Prima: <I'm not a prime roast yet.>

The cretin, that insolent little wretch of a creature. It had dared to threaten his children?! All of Celeana's effort in the world would not be enough to stop him. All of the effort of those assembled would not be enough to stop him. He wanted blood, he wanted to rip and tear and destroy. He wanted nothing more than to watch the light die from its eyes.

And so he lunged along with the others. Diving into combat, sending as much magic as he could muster, sending as much power as he could manage. Giving it everything to kill the Archbishop. Lightning flared, winds howled and his hands eventually wrapped around the Archbishop's neck where he crushed the life out of him.

But that wasn't enough, just killing him wasn't enough... THe runes lining Gorandis' body began to glow a sickly purple, a purple tinged with the red of his sin. Energy streaked out, snaking around the Archbishop's body before digging down into his core. The energy strangled and suffocated the spirit that was attempting to escape in death.

But the dreamer would not be having this one back.

The energy formed around the spirit, lifting it out of the body and compressing it down into a small crystal, one that filled the entirety of Gorandis' hand. It shone a shimmering silver. Here, the Archbishop would be lay in torment, subjected to whatever whims and fancies came to his mind. And Gorandis had plenty of painful ones planned.

He watched as the other spirits vanished in defeat and went to grab whatever trinket was left behind.
(Gorandis)

{NARRATION} It was fortunate for the party that they had Gorandis with them. His rage and fury had carried him through the spirits and right onto the Dreamer-empowered man. The fate of the Archbishop was a grisly one, his soul damned to whatever the Sin of Wrath so craved. Unfortunately for the rest of the party, the spirits were tied to something external. Their fetishes remained along the top of the throne area. Their power was tied to the mists around them, which slowly faded after the death of the Archbishop. The party won but had also taken their hits, for their focus seemed to shatter after beating the Archbishop. Gavin took the worst of it. Hreidmar's greed had overwhelmed the boy. The seed of depravity implanted upon his soul. The scorching pain of never being satisfied permanently emblazoned upon his being. A part of what might have made the child who he was? Stolen. Stolen with the fading laughs of the greedy spirit. His mind would be filled with grim visions of a foreign land, of glorious hoards he would never have. The Curse of Greed was upon him and the toll was heavy (Cursed with Greed. -20 MC to Gavin.) Akkarin and Hreidmar were the next victims of his fading assault. However, it was far lesser as the totems had begun to lose their foul power. The earthquaked and the ground rose. No greedy sin to steal their powers but their bodies were shattered and leylines damaged. (Akkarin and Veronica Kyros: -5 MC, -5 Vit) Mia, Pelcise and Luthar had simply been caught on the wrong end of the spirits and the Archbishop. They were thrown about the room with ease, battering and knocking them unconscious. Contusions and concussions would mar their bodies, with the cracking sounds of an arm or a leg following. (Mia, Pelcise and Luthar: -5 mc and -5 vit for three years) The rest had simply proven too durable or too lucky for the assault of the Archbishop and the spirits. Whether the spirits had simply proven too weak in the end, or too uncaring, it mattered not. Most of them had emerged relatively unscatched beyond the beating they collectively took. The archbishop dead and the loot was theirs. The spirits gear, or what remained, lay neir their respective fetishes.



He fought his hardest, a brave soul to the end, but all four of them was too much for the youngling. He couldn't hold his own against them all as they seemed to use spells that made him wonder where the attacks came from. he looked to his back, to his left and right, nothing was around. He felt his body being attacked, barraged from all sides and being tossed about.

Finally, it would end with him flying through the air, his back hitting a wall with a cracking sound from his arm. He lets out a scream of pain, the first time since the fighting began, having held back all of it. His body falls to the ground with a thud, his head banging hard against the ground, knocking the poor little guy out. He lies on the ground, for the rest of the battle, and after, unconscious, not taking part in any of the after math talks. The lightning that swirled around him disappeared as he couldn't hold it anymore, not while unconscious.

All that came his way were groans of pain as he lies there, his sword arm breaking during the fight. His back remaining fine, his arm, when he hit the wall, moved in the way, preventing the back any heavy damage.
(Pelcise Aysev)

Darkness.

After getting tossed aside like a ragdoll, the angered arachne's vision begins to swirl into a blank state of nothingness. The world around her begins to fade...only to have a sudden rush of adrenaline after hearing a loud snap. Her arm is broken, leaving bones exposed. A scream falls from her lips before all eight of her massive legs curl. She rolls over, with the lower half of her body curling up into a ball.

Splat goes the spider.

She isn't out for long, just long enough for the battle to conclude. While in a better state of mind, she may have attempted to claim something for her own- but she didn't stick around this long out of greed, or indulgence. Rather, instinct drove her to run, yet simultaneously it drove her to fight. Whispers, whispers, small voices invade her mind- perhaps a hint of madness, or something had become affixed to her during this turmoil.

In the brief period of time while she lie unconscious something had affixed itself to her very being. How odd...

She'd begin to rub the side of her face, annoyed, confused, weary...and thus, would attempt to leave, less someone or something tried to stop her.

She had much to think about.
(Mia Hirano)

A threat to their children- The Oracle was unhappy to say the least, however Gorandis seemed to have taken care of that issue. Perhaps she could trust him more than she had thought. His anger was... Extreme, but quite understandable! She felt it herself, after all. How rage built up within her instantly and how she felt herself losing control just at the sound of it. Making her children scream in pain and agony.

Gorandis was well appreciated to say the least, it meant the mother no longer had to worry about her children. It was... Surprising how effective Gorandis was.

Eyes for once left him and ventured over to the loot at hand- A shield she took interest in, but for a moment she would avert once more to glance back at Ryan and Veronica. The duo seemed alright, even if Veronica seemed to... Suffer a bit. Hopefully nothing Ryan couldn't fix. Then again, he seemed quite settled on acquiring an item first!

"This is what happens to those who oppose our Lord and attack our Holy City! Shameful defeat."
(Celeana Feuer)

They had emerged victorious, yet heavily injured.

The magics wielded by the Archbishop weren't something to be doubted by any means. Horrid torrents of meta magic crashed through the Keep of New Alteros, ripping furniture and undead apart with ease. But despite this, even with the spirits accompanying the Archbishop, the forces of New Alteros emerged victorious.

If only barely.

Despite the difficult fight, it seems that Gorandis had enough of the Archbishops defiance, and soon struck him down, causing the spirits that attacked them to shimmer and shatter from existance, leaving their idols resting on the throne room. Despite being battered and broken, the Lich approached the throne room, and went towards the one used by the odd looking fetishes on the throne, and picked up the strange sword left behind.

"Whoever wants this sword.." His voice is drained, tired from the events that had occured within the keep. It was held up into the air, and it's magical properties could be sensed flowing through it's foreign metals. Despite it's appearance as a sword, the energies easily shown it was made for someone who manipulated magic from afar!

"Can come to me personally later, and a wielder will be chosen." After all, he had no need for it, not with his crystalline blade still on his back.


"As for the remnants of the Neries invasion, they will be dealt with soon enough."
(Ryan Kyros)

Finally

It was over finally they could rest. The Sin of Wrath had brough the fight to a end. Daran would smirk as he got his ass handed but he was still alive. Most of everyone had survived so that was good. He would look to see that it was something in heart that the Neries was took down.

Daran would get up and look around.

"I lived through this mess all that matters." Flipping his sword he would look around for something that was not being glimpsed upon the higher ups or anyone else. No, Daran was going to do a bit of thinking. He would check on the guards or the others people around the castle who were out cold.

Telling the guards and others to go check on the people. He was glad him and Prima had took materials to help the city from the cave. So it shouldn't be to hard to fix up the Neries mess. Though it was not going to be something they just forget.

(Daran Lakewater)

Prima, once more having taken a beating, was only standing at all because of her hair- the mass of which she leaned against like it were less made of strands and more of... wall materials. She once more acted as little other than a soldier, manuevering and striking until her vision had temporary blurred and her legs refused to move. Infact, she was laying on the ground nearby as the Archibishop fell, free to do nothing other than watch his pitiful end.

Amidst the settling down of dust and shattered furniture when things fell more quiet than they had in hours, some might eventually spot her wandering about aimlessly with quiet eyes and the occasional mean look, tossing rolls of bandages towards anyone bleeding profusely before disappearing from the building if none attempted to interact with her. She wasn't cleanup crew. The bandages were just annoying weight. There were citizentry to help outside, anyways.

Mysteriously, one of the few intact pieces of furniture disappeared with her.
(Prima)

Prima: <Not like I'd loot heretics... the stuff's probably cursed.>
Gregory: <*heads back to the market*>

It wasn't the best. But it'd have to do, right?

With ripping and tearing, fighting to tooth and nail. It was hard. Agonizing, and would the keep ever be the same? With her leylines in tatters, she finds herself dropped, a kneel taken as she dragged in a few agonized breaths. She was... she was still alive, right? Even though the hazy daze threatened to take over her mind, a shake of her body as she chokes up a few spatters of blood here and there.

It burned.

Whatever ripping, picking, pulling. It was awful, and why it remained was beyond her, but she would stand fucking tall above all else, despite the blood that trickled and spilled, the dimming of her rieka lines showing forth as she stumbled, standing up straight and tall with a clench of her teeth together.

"Hua..."

Her hand pressed lightly against her mouth as she attempted to keep from vomitting from the pain, but alas-- stand tall, stand together, and she stepped over to what might've remained of the Sky Dancer, and she grabbed a hold of the sword that may have remained, soon lifting it above her head.

"We will ruin Nerebia! Let this be a testament to New Alteros' strength above all else!"

And maybe she would soon pass out as well, who knew? She seemed very wobbly on those feet of hers.
(Veronica Kyros)

Now that the incursion with the Neries was over, or at least he figured it was, it was time to inspect the odd totems left behind.

Whatever they were, strange totems crafted from odd and foreign metals likely unknown in the land of Valmasia, there was one thing the Lich was familiar with. They contained a spirit within them, and it was something that could be manipulated. Picking up the one he was standing before, the one containing the Lust sin in particular, and kneeled down before it.

"What makes you tick, I wonder.." Ryan muttered, his eyes fixated on the strangely crafted totem. With his hand hovering above it, faint tendrils of Rieka dropped down from his palms and connected with the mysterious totem, probing whatever magical ties connected them to the world around them. However, he did not go through such an action without preparation. Magical barriers erected themselves around his body, and protected his mind. Who knows what curses might linger on the artifact before him.

"Reveal your secrets to me.."

Of course, who knows if things would go exactly as he planned! He was experimenting with foreign magics after all, but given he had mastered the art of Soul transference, who knows what he might find..
(Ryan Kyros)

{NARRATION} The totems on a surface level seemed unremarkable. They were all skulls, bound in orichalcum wire with strange runes carved into the foreheads. Each propped up on an ironwood pole. To most, they were just grisly trophies. However, closer inspection would indicate which skull each belonged to. Each one radiated a sinful energy. Greed, Lust and even an unseen Wrath. They were unpowered, however. The Nerebian mists had kept them so powered, tethering them while the room was so filled. Soft whispers can be heard from each, however.



People did so well... So well...

Eyes were laid on Gorandis. He seemed to be not in motion for once. Remaining in his place. A good thing, it meant she knew where to find him, a seldom thing these days given how likely he was to roam around and get himself into trouble with ease.

Attention was directed at the lower tier of the Bulwark; Luthar and Veronica specifically. Veronica had proven herself more than worthy to become a Rampart and even though she was the heir to the Crown, such a thing mattered little given she had not yet received it.

"Luthar Kyros, for your service in the name of our Lord and for the protection of the city, I hereby promote you to Avenger. Veronica! You have proven yourself more than worthy, I look forward to seeing you with the crown." A silent promotion would be given to the Princess, surely she was already pretending to have more authority than her ranked allowed given her mother regardless.

As for Daran... Well he had brilliant efforts, however given his rank and relatively unknown name, she could not quite well promote him to the rank of Rampart just yet. Especially given how he had apparently been deemed boring to fight by Gorandis, which usually meant they were not strong enough for such a rank just yet. Just look at Belle, she held strength worthy of a Rampart. He would be given a pat on the back for his good efforts. Maybe some other reward could be found for him in the future.
(Celeana Feuer)

Veronica Kyros: <*whoops ehehe...*>

Voices.

Within the strange totems, mainly consisting of skulls and orichalcum wiring running across the surface was the souls of the deceased. Something within them was odd, however. Potent depravity rolled from the skulls, particularly familiar to depravity emitted by those who had fallen into the curse of sin. What had happened to the spirits within?

Just who were they?

With the veins of rieka soon covering the skull-like totem before him, Ryan continued to probe further. Faint bits of necromantic energies would be channeled into the skull. Perhaps not enough to manifest what lurked within entirely, but enough to allow their voices to be heard.

"Just who are you?" Ryan demanded, his eyes narrowing upon the Totem before him. "Who are you, and why are you serving the Dreamer? Are you simply Neries trapped within? Or are you something else..?"

Of course, he had no idea if such a thing would work! Who knows what magics lurked within the skulls, nor if the small push would be enough to cause the ghost to manifest! But he had to know.

Why?
(Ryan Kyros)

{NARRATION} Ghostly images barely flicker. Soft voices carrying. They could be clearly heard by Ryan, linked to him and his rieka for now. They were unfocused, almost like a series of memories. Was there true sentience or sapience to the totems anymore? Not enough power was being channeled to manifest a full spirit. Only their gibbering voices carried out, like messages from beyond. Which would he listen to first? Greed? Lust? Wrath? Or would he dare to power one up?





If one did not take the initiative that they had to, then where would they have ended up? People had to stand tall! And they had to make themselves appear as though they were larger than life. Why?

Well, it wasn't like anyone else was going to do it for you, so...

"I'll continue to prove myself to Alteros above all else." Swinging the storm imbued blade through the air, she listened to the crackling of lightning momentarily before giving a slight cant of her head off to the side.

"...Now I have to go make sure I'm not going to-- pass out."

Hurk. She wasn't going to give up in the face of anything.

"Stand tall for Lord Azrael. He smiles upon us today!"

And with that? She'd soon skitter off out to the outside world to do...

...Lord knows what.
(Veronica Kyros)

Pat On The Back

Daran would get a pat on the back from the Oracle. He shook it off as he watch the others get promoted. Did it bother him. No, all Daran cared about was serving the city. He was sigh as he really hoped to get a book or something out of this mess. Yet, nothing was found for the guy. He would then rub hsi head and stretch his arms.

Healing the wounds he got from the battle. It was not really that bad as he thought. More than likely he was glad for the young princess to get her rank. Daran would then head off to train. He was tired of this commotion.

He would give Luthar a thumbs up.

Then he would look at Prima and smirk. "You did great out there. Your progress has improved greatly." He says with a laugh. Though she know it has his heroic laugh.
(Daran Lakewater)