shadow games

The night falls upon the Academy.

The bells ring, and the staff urges for students to remain safe within their dorms, to avoid all contact with anything outside; yet this time around, there will not be any careless students - there will not be a mistake of a single person.

This time,
it's all coming to them.

Howling, roaring... with the metal clanking in the back. The mists and the fog fill the area, and the feeling of dread and chill comes over- it's all too easy to tell that whatever trouble has been brewing, whatever stirred the Shadowmire forests lately...

It will be unleashed now.

What leads them is a peculiar figure... a simple man? Not quite. Despite being surrounded by monstrosities, none attack him- and when he comes close enough, the voice rings throughout the air.

"Students! Oh, dear students!"

"It warms my heart to know that you all will soon graduate the Academy, venture out and see the world for yourself."

"But what kind of graduation is it, without a night to remember?"

Almost on a whim, the machines come forward; the monsters follow, each with their own agenda. Trouble is afoot...

"Care to make a story?"

"Together?"
[Narrate]

So many eager faces.

So many cruel, malicious things that could happen... but beneath that mask, the Narrator only smiles. Truly, this would be a terrible night for all- one filled with trials and challenges, tests and bloodshed. One could never be truly prepared for this- not when the danger presents itself in such manner.

Can you feel the dread?
Can you feel the chills coming down your spine?

"Excellent!"

"Youthful spirit is truly magnificent, is it not? Always ready to find yourself in trouble... even if it would mean your doom."

The staff might've warned the students to stay within and avoid all contact with anything outside, but could it be helped? At this point, there are only two choices left.

Flee,
or take a stand.

"Come, then!"

"Let's make a story together. Let's see what tragedies will unfold today - what memories will be forged in blood and sweat."

"The night is yours."

 "Revel in it!"

Without a pause, the Machines march forward; their clanking bodies shifting with terrifying weight and power. The monsters follow in suit, and with the odd magic rising from Narrator...

Something odd happens to the Academy. Since when did it become so misty, so dark..?

[Welcome to the Shadow Games!]

[This is PVE oriented event. If you signed up for PVP, your matchups are below.]

Elise vs Smurg
Teagan vs Smile
Ty'raj vs Orobaes
Hironori vs Kor'Viliath
Guinevere vs Xian
[Narrate]

Clank...

Clack...

Venomous mana and noxious fumes billowed from around a horde of machines. Each step shaking the very foundation of The Shadowmire, each stride causing another billowing plume of smoke to rise.

Another stride.

Another tree toppled.

Another student nearly caught underfoot of this march.

"<:: ... Engaging targets. Command; Leave no survivors."

Even should one machine be toppled?

There were many, many more to take its place.
[Narrate]

Shrouded.

In the canopy of the trees stands the dark figure with his features concealed. Whatever magics were employed to create such foggy cover made its work well enough to create distance between the Narrator and the group ahead.

Yet..

"It begins."

A smile. Visible, almost taunting in its nature... for he knew what exactly awaits the students that chose to face against the machinery. Only one question remains...

How will they perform?

"Emerging from the dark forest, this titan of metal took students by surprise."

Is he...
Narrating?

"Ravenous and bolstering immense power, it would become a true threat in the coming days, right before their graduation."

"Will they survive? Will they show good results that Narrator will be satisfied with?"

"We'll see!"

From the shadows, he watches.

Eager for results.
(Narrator)

Thunderous applause.

Nature being crushed and torn asunder.

Such a grand display having been meant for these children so close to entering the world outside of this isle. Soon to be faced with beasts and men not all too different from their fellow classmates.

Another stride...

Another strike...

"<::... Engage."

Poisonous fumes billowing outwards.

Collecting and spreading with every passing second. Suffocating the lungs of any unfortunate enough to grow close.

The machines marched onwards.

"<:: Engage."

[/team 1!]
[Narrate]

One...

Knocked down.

Two...

Blown to pieces.

When each a hunk of metal would be cleaved in two - Something looked as though it was pulling it back together. Repairing and assuring its body wouldn't falter and fall...

Though such a slow restoration seemed impossible against the hordes of children.

Titus destroying a third machine.

And even still?

The March?

Continuing on, trampling all underfoot.
[Narrate]

Metal and magic.

The thunderous combined strength of all students from the Academy made him realize just how far they've all gone - but that only meant one thing..

This situation is perfect.

To witness his creation perform against such talented youth, to witness it fight back against such skilled combatants. This was turning out to be even greater than he expected.

It even made him smile!

"The promising students of Academy fought with all they had against the metal monstrosity!"

"Little by little, they would cleave away at its body, taking off chunks and pieces! Any mortal creature would be obliterated by now - and any creation would be annihilated without a question."

"Victory was in their grasp."

Living up to his name, the Narrator, quite literally, narrates their fight - even as it goes on with the plethora magics being blasted all around.

But..
There's always something off.

"Yet.."

"Just as some of their teammates got hurt and they thought that the monstrosity is toppled, it was rising once again!"

"How, they wondered? How is this possible? How could unliving metal cling to life?"

"There was no time to think. Either they would strike now.."

"Or die!"

The Narrator clasps his hands, excited at the prospect of it all. Given the genius behind such creation..

Perhaps he wasn't just a madman.
(Narrator)

Amidst this frenzy of calamity and destruction, Alois Loire had recognized one important fact -

The monstrous mechanic creation responded to the commands of one.

One commander. One ruler. One ringleader.

The Narrator had commanded it, hadn't he?

He thrives in the calamity as the world crashed violently around him, the colossal creation buffeted with his own cataclysmic boons of mana. His capacity to cast seemed endless, but he knew this not to be the case -

In time, his laylines would be sucked dry.

The machines were felled only momentarily. They could be stopped, surely, with the appropriate command -

In the seconds between their sluggish restoration, Alois leaps forth, not toward the machines, but swept instead to their master -

The Narrator is greeted by a toiling, incandescent lashing of primordial flame.

Stories were never exciting if the outcome was preordained.
(Alois Loire)

Strange.

He decided to attack the Narrator directly? While it came as surprise at first, the madman was quick to react, already reaching for the weapon that would be no doubt used. And yet..

Where he tries to strike at him,
he strikes only dark lightning.

"Ah!"

"No, no, no!"

"Naughty! Who in the world hits the person telling them a story while they're doing it?" He shakes his head.

"That calls for punishing!"

Dark lightning surrounds him. The smell of ozone and brimstone lingers- powerful, with cascading, darkening visage all around.

Surely he did not expect him to come unprepared.
(Narrator)


{RP BATTLE} You have WON the battle!

{RP BATTLE} {INJURY} Alois Loire has rolled 1 for injury!

Alois Loire has sustained an injury in battle...


Definitely a promising student.

Adaptable and capable- which is exactly what the Narrator was looking for. But try as he might to ensure that the link between the Narrator and the Machine is cut off by attacking the creator..

That might've been not the best idea.

Unexpected, dark lightning strikes him down, time and time again- while the sword and flames leave their mark upon the Narrator, there's something unnatural about his perseverance and stamina; something that could give even the strongest monstrosity a run for their money.

"Bad! Bad student!"

"I was telling a story and you rudely interrupt me like this!"

Infuriated, yet focused on this tale that he was weaving. Whereas Alois makes a commendable effort, in the end, he's blasted away from the Narrator.

Right back to the group.

"Now!"

"Where was I..."

The eyes behind the veil assess the environment. How did the machine perform?"
(Narrator)

Gunfire.

Blades.

Staves conjuring forwards mana.

Machines would be cleaved and blown asunder. Shells which sought to repair and undo any damage folding against the continued display from each and every student now present.

"<:: ... Narrator, Retreat. Critical... System..."

Caster proving themselves capable of slicing one of these massive machines in two. Consumed by noxious gas and falling into the ground not seconds after, brought down by that continued corrupt mana that endlessly spew.

"<:: Fail...ure..."

Three Machines being blown apart by both Titus, Alois and Orain alike. Cleaved apart and reduced to nothing more than a melting pile of steel and bolts.

Eztli?

Well - They would assure that final machine fell.

They would assure that continued march would end with their blow, however such was achieved.
[Narrate]

"--Ah!"

The fact that machine lasted this long was already impressive to the Narrator. The Academy taught their students well, and given the strength that they all possessed, it was no wonder that they would eventually prevail.

Despite its impressive recovery abilities.

"The machine monstrosity was enduring!"

The narrating continues. Unsurprising.. even strange, the fact that he was attacked by one of them just a moment ago - yet he's so ready to continue telling the story.

As if nothing happened.

"Capable to stand its ground, despite the powerful blows coming from each student. Death would be certain to any unprepared, lowly magi - yet they performed with valor and strength unlike any other!"

"Through this struggle, they grew- each knowing that the world holds countless dangers out there.."

"And this one is merely a taste of it."

Wounds of the blade and fire linger on his flesh, but they concern him little, if at all; the stamina of the man allowing him to easily carry on.

"With the final blow dealt, and machine falling apart, they could celebrate their victory!"

"But they should not celebrate too much - for the fate has a strange sense of humor, and numerous ways of punishing pride."

Darkness envelops him once more. Enough to shroud him.. enough to cause the fog to thicken; to that end, it's almost as if he's beginning to disappear.


"Is this the end of the story, or merely another chapter?"

"They will find out."



"Soon. Very soon."


With the vanishing figure..

Was it a promise of something greater in the future?
(Narrator)