A Sacrifice to the Morninglord!

Darak felt that the presence of something big approached felt as his power increased and how strong it was becoming no doubt, his dreams were right he is apparently approaching his Goddess the Dreamer to where they ... Or so he thought since His power increased a lot as if he were closer to his people and that presence he felt was nostalgic but at the same time he had never seen it.

Wandering away from Wychwood .. that place was a complete failure. He certainly found nothing but Yokais and inferior beings, scrounging from infected places as Deadland Marshes walks away and runs towards them with the desperate hope of cleansing the evil and setting up a church before the Dreamer approaches them.

In the search Deadland certainly was a dangerous place, he approaches a person who finds strange in the bosuqe, doubtless was someone who emitted depravacion .. another Azraelita? Another of those bastards who attacked him? Every time he approached New Alteros there were more of these was his time to finish them all.

"What lesser being the Dreamer have out in my way this time?"

He says arrogantly, his voice as usual is heard deep inside his helmet and his body covered in black armor with gold. Quite peculiar, certainly a pursuit like him.
(Darak)


[05:53:13] Who was this pretentious bastard? To think that he would refer to him in such a way? In such a tone? That this idiotic neries would attempt to claim his superiority over him? Ha! He smiled as he half shifted, "Fool. You believe that you are some creature worthy of note? That you are a creature that can simply command me as you wish like a whelp? Begone from here you Heretical spawn of that eldritch Abomination!"

He snapped his fingers and his black and occultic fire was about him. He smiled then laughed, then his laugh broke into a full and terrible cackle. A horrendoes and terrible laugh. He wanted to teach this neries a damn lesson in humility.
(Vindictus)


[06:04:19] Darak looks at him ... even this one dares to pull its wings? What falsehood .. that stupid to complete was a Drakanite .. The weak ams of Valmasia but believed the strongest so Darak was here to prove to Vindictus the power of a Neries, that was the message that had to leave Darak like Mienbro of the church. He was not a peeler who wasted his time with such creatures, but this was an enemy he could not avoid and was a future servant of the Church.

"I am a pursuer of the Church of Insight... Ears , Sight and touch of the Dreamer I wil evaporate you from this world and send you to the eternal Nightmare that lies behind this world called Reality..."

Darak takes his helmet as he show his horns and his gem in the forehead..

"Then consider yourselve part of the Church of Insight!"
(Darak)


[06:12:00] His luagh continued as he looked at the young man. "You poor unfortunate soul. Condemned to this. An existance in service to a false and derranged god of madness. Worry not! Azrael will deliver you from this perverted and twisted existance. May the Morninglord watch over you!" As he finished his red eyes shined like rubies, and the black fire streaked up.

It caught even upon the water. Streaking upon it with its terribe occultic power. He smiled as the fire raged and blazed about. It was the instrument to which he would sacrifice this one to Azrael. "Lord Azrael. See the work that your servant does in your name and bless him with the might o purge this terrible Apostate. Give him your wings to crush him, and in return for your servant's work provide him with the knowledge and blessing of your depraved arts. I ask this in your name."

He looked back at him, tossing the occlutic embers from hand to hand, then throwing them aside, "Shall we begin? I shall break your chains and free you of your imprisonment. Perhaps... I can make you my first undead servant." He laughed hysterically as he said this, his deprivation becoming apparent.
(Vindictus)
[06:14:33] Darak smile as he realize he is going to fight a Azraelite, he was searching them from a long time now wanting to know what they wanted from him.

"Your words are just poor blasphemy and fear.... Azrael is only one servant of the Dreamer itself who is the only true god while you are just a puppet from the Oscuris and there lies... I will be the one tha tbroke the chains in you.."

His gembeigns to shine as he surround himself from mana that he absorb form the Deadland marshes.
(Darak)


[06:15:24] {combat} Darak has been defeated by Vindictus! They're unable to continue fighting.

[06:18:49] And as the fight began, it was over, he immediately overtook him in the flames, covering his body, singing every inch of him in the occultic embers. As he was being overtaken, some of his eldritch power managed to scathe him, but it was minimal, he grabbed him by throat, burning him as he did, "We all have chains. Duty. Responsibility. Faith. But these are chains we choose for ourselves, yours are born of dogma." He throws him aside with a blast of fire.

He slowly walks to him, "Truly this is not the extent of your god's might? Truly you are simply mocking me. Show ing me your magnamimity in your restraint?"
(Vindictus)


[06:22:14] Darak was in big problems. This Boy was younger but skilled, he knew about training.
How could Darak be overwhelm by someone that is not a Neries or part of the Church of Insight itself? This is impossible and this make him mad.

"I-I will follow the fate that the Dreamer the only true god put in my way... If he wants me to die today I will! but I will be sure to take you with me!"

Darak charges himself with mana around him as he jump to attack Vindictus. Charged with wrath and wanting to protect his god he was ready to do whatever it takes even if that means going in corruption.
(Darak)


[06:34:11] He stared at him again, like a ship being battered by the roiling and battering waves. He was pathetic. He would have pity on this weak and faithful Neries. And it would come in the form of a single word. “Recant. Call Azrael or Akujin your lord, and I shall spare you the judgement that you deserve.” He would smile as he stared at the confused and agonizing neries.

Their hierarchy was everything to them, and he was, pun intended, shattering his greatest dream and realm of thoughts. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. It was judgement day and he was Judge, JUry, and executioner. “Recant or perish.”
(Vindictus)


[06:35:02] Darak is full of strength .. He stops to hit very .. his body is very hurt but the voice of the Dreamer in his head is stronger than the pain .. his faith is stronger than defeat. He can not fall now can not lose and let an enemy of the church continue like this. Is it your time to fight with all your might or think Kerenvas and Naphtalia? His only family in these places.

He uses all his forces to absorb as much mana as possible around him ... destroying the small plants from his source of life.
Darak gets annoyed with burns, and looks fixedly at Vindictus.

"Dont believe you have beat me.. don't believe you have beat the Dreamer! I am Darak the Soundless! Son of two seekers! protector of the Church you will need to cut my head if you want to stop me! Come one lesser beign show me what you got!"

Surrounding his body from the mana , creating a sort of defense that defense, he start to creating little waves around him, from the pressure that his power does. He without doubts believe the Dreamer is with him in these moments.

Darak looks at him we a disgusting face...

"Why I would call to lesser beings god? A Newt and a Psycho? tell me why!? "
(Darak)



[06:46:08] He smiled as he was overwhelmed once more, his entire body was scorched, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him into the floor, placing the heel of his Iron boot on his throat, “Because this Newt and Depraved, just fucking showed your snotty.” The boot pressed on him. “Dogmatic.” He pressed harder, “Deluded.” He would be choking on blood. “Highborn Neries ass that his entire existence, is a lie!”

He laughed as he took the boot, off, replanting it firmly onto his chest, breaking his ribs and his body, “Do you still hold to your foolishness!?” He was smiling at him. Like a hyena in the view of a full meal, a sacrifice. He wondered what his last words would be. What he would beg for, or if he would simply call to his god for vengeance or aid.
(Vindictus)


[06:57:13] Darak find himself behind the heels of the Draknite .. He was a mosnter and was getting more near to him. It was late for Darak He did not intend to humiliate himself before an inferior being like these Drakanite and to top a Drakanite Azraelites, this was a mortal enemy for Darak, no doubt his Neries ego and his faith in the church were bigger than everything. He tightens his teeth as he tries to look at him while his thick blood falls to the floor.

"Stamp me ... hit me ... hurt me but you will never break me! You and always be a lesse being! You and your stupid gods are weak and they will always be weak! You dont have a chance agaisnt me And you will never have! You can break my body, but my will is far storger than anything you know! Come on try to break me, but you are just scare of killing me! Will make you suffer! "

Darak spits at Vindcitus while expressing all the feelings that have been kept for so long, being part of the church being a dog of this I could never express his hatred. And now it does.
(Darak)


[07:11:44] He smiled at him. This will be fun. “In the name of Azrael, I condemn your damned soul to the darkness. You shall be forgotten. As will your God be.” He took his fire and enraptured him, a slow burn, a terrible heat and scorching suffering and pain. He would slowly feel his skin melt, and glue to every part of him, every inch of him in terrible, horrendous and unfathomable pain as the occultic blaze washed around and over him. A baptism by fire.

He smiled as he heard his soul seethe and suffer. Writhing in its casing of mana circuits, trapped, burning to break free. And soon it would. He kept burning singing him. Obliterating and incinerating him. It was to be his swan song, his end and his retribution. As he let the fires die, he walked over to him, leaning to his ear, “I will end your dream.” He grabbed him by his horns, snapping them from his head. He placed his boot heel on his chest’s sternum, partially exposed, and grabbed hold of them, forcing them from his skull with brute force. A terrible force.

Slamming his head over and over again into the ground, he twisted his his neck, before finally, slamming his head one final time into the floor, snapping the horns from his head. The worst was yet to come, and in this whole procedure and time he was laughing, chanting, “In the name of Azrael be purged!” He cackled a terrible, depraved laugh.

He took his horns in hand, stabbing them and forcing them into the poor man’s eye sockets, into the front on his face as he screamed for his life. As he felt the immense and sufferable pain. He pressed them deep, but not deep enough to kill him, but the coup d’grace was coming. It was most assuredly coming. He would not rest until it did find him, both the grave and his end.

He took his hands, grabbing hold of his partially, exposed and broken ribcage, forcing and burning and melting it, hacing at his organs, once he was exposed, it was the end, he grabbed hold of his heart with his bear hands, ripping it straight from his chest, and before his eyes to see. Burning it slightly, before squeezing it.

“And as is written in the Book of the Dreamer… Death is but a fade from this life… and into the HANDS OF AZRAEL!”
(Vindictus)