raid on shadowmire

There is a deathly chill in the night air. Tensions are high as anticipation of the coming conflict mounts.

Asphodel's army stationed near the fortress, temporary lines of earthwork and wood marking their siege. Massive weapons of war break the treeline, prepared to barrage the sturdy walls of the keep.

Monsters of the Shadowmire stand ready at their forsaken fortification, intent upon defending it from vampiric occupation. Ogre and Nethradin alike, alongside their smaller compatriots stand ready- both on the walls and outside them.

Dead eyes set upon each other, silence before the oncoming storm of battle. Silence which is unexpectedly broken as a third force splits from the trees, breaking their concealment in shocking fashion.

The forces of Moxtli, intent upon indiscriminate bloodshed and destruction alone, reveal themselves.

(( Match-Ups will come following leader RPs and then regular RPs! ))
[Narrate]

The silence was almost piercing.

So much so that the Prince has only found it fitting to be wary and cautious. From the looks of it, the shadows that were whispering in his mind were suggesting only one thing - there are more forces than just that of Shadowmire.

There are more creatures that seek to disrupt this battle.

"--How utterly.."

"Expected."

The likes of the Fireblooded and Moxtli just love butting into the business that is not their own. If anything, it was growing to be a constantly annoying force.

Like a buzzing mosquito you just can't get rid of.

"No matter."

"Just another distraction."


What comes forth is the amalgamation of darkness.
The Collective, buzzing in thoughts and whispers.
Hosting several dozen magi.
Their voices, the parts of them.


A force to be reckoned with, no doubt, and perhaps it could have yet another one join it soon enough. It is here, however, that he finds it to be a doubtful endeavour to be easy..

For he knows that there are plethora of capable magi all the same.

"Take this place."

"And push the tribals back... they have no business being here."
(Ambrose Roche)

Event Admin: Ektu Grace vs Alexander vol Hellstrom
Sibyl Cirque vs Alexei pyr Docro
Cedar Grace vs Ambrose
Ciel Valkrin vs Adrian Ivanovich
Nestis vs Araceli Falkenrath
Tara Tuffam vs Annete Alricht
Ky Linnen vs Hati vol Hellstrom
Thorn Meztin vs Revna Rune
Smurg vs Sebastian
Maple Grace vs Blair
Verdict vs Avelin Alricht
Dok'zong vs Auberon Invidia
Nanzo vs Synesia Artra
Cypress Grace vs Aerica
Saki Linnen vs Vilyra
Rigs vs Ilya pyr Docro
Aranha vs Timothy Espanze IV
Twisted Creature vs Morven Mortilod
Vanessa vs Nathan Elbi
Triumphus vs Illythia
Marius vs Abe

DANGER CAP 1+. Feel free to use the War Map NPC that's about to be summoned!

Roaring flames of war.

Is it any wonder that the Prince would find himself on the frontlines of it once more? For as far as he could tell, this is something that would be inevitable; something that he would have to be tested through..

Time and time again.

Many could feel dread, anxiety in this- the vampires were, however, blessed with the ability to simply shut off these emotions. But.. Ambrose would not. Instead, he would rather dwell on them, overcome them.

A flea also does not fear. But does that make her brave?
No. It is because it feels no fear at all.

This is no bravery to overcome it- but as much as it instils in his unbeating heart, the crimson eyes are so ever wary. This will be yet another obstacle to overcome.

But..

"--Ah."

Cedar Grace. The attention of the Collective turned to it immediately, so ever curious; there, however, he can't help but tilt his head. It is certainly unexpected to him to be facing someone like this..

"What a surprise."

"I'd expect you would be taking care of your family by now, but.. I suppose that you're still trying to fight, even in your years nearing sunset, hm?"

Nonetheless, the purple hue is already conjured in the air. Something was telling Ambrose that he would be tested to his limits..

And perhaps above them.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to take your leave?"

"I think Sibyl requires your attention a lot more. The last time I've seen her, ever since that Andromeda incident.."

"She seems unhinged. Shouldn't you be looking after her - and not fighting for the bragging rights of burning Shadowmire territory?"

A tease on its own.

Or a distraction?
(Ambrose Roche)

How many times had he trudged through this smog? The howls of agony, the desperate yells of battle. Had he lost sight of himself, his pursuits - goals? Why was he here?

He had orchestrated this attack, to destroy Fort Umbra.

Step by step, his loafers trudged through the grass which had now become a thick, sludgy consistency. So many had already trodden across it, so many had already shed their bleed on it. Any lesser magi that had approached the Warchief were repelled non-lethally. He was a tactician, a general - not a murderer. He was better than them - right?

"... Hello, Ambrose."

The dark prince of Asphodel hung in the air above, suspended - like a marionette. Something beyond, pulling the strings, perhaps. It mattered not to the man. His chidings were met with a shrug of those broad shoulders.

"Honestly, this might be my final battle... But... I am here, taking care of my family. They are all here. A parasite like you wouldn't know of family, would you? The only thing you think about it is your next meal, no?" The Grace took a step forward. Another.

"I cannot leave. My wife, son, daughter are all here fighting for their lives. One is on the wrong side - Though she will be brought back, rest assured." Eternity's edge was released from his furled grasp, rotating wildly in the air, the bleeding edge faced towards him.

"Sibyl is my family too, I will not have you speak her name. You aren't worthy of it - Selling your humanity for the cheap idea of immortality. You make me sick."

Had the distraction worked?
(Cedar Grace)

{RP BATTLE} Cedar Grace is ready for battle!

{RP BATTLE} Cedar Grace is no longer ready for battle!

"..?"

He wouldn't know of family? He wouldn't know of love, of affection to another? Of all things, it is the only one that seems to touch upon something.

Hit a nerve, one could say.

"--You know nothing about me."

"Don't pretend like you do."

There, he readies himself for what's to come. The Collective takes the bow..

And the dark arrows are nocked once more.
(Ambrose Roche)

{RP BATTLE} You have LOST round 1!

A struggle.

To overcome these magics of metaphysical, the constant barrage of the time that could almost erode even the likes of the Vampiric Prince; for as much as the dark arrows are fired upon Cedar Grace, and the noxious fumes fill the air to snuff out his resistance in this battle..

It's no use.

They graze him, wound him as any naturally dangerous magics would- but he's the one on the backfoot. Is it strange to feel as if he was never ascended... is it odd to feel as if he's alive again?

Is it odd to feel like his heart trembles..
Even if it doesn't move?

The barrage of blows and exchange between the two of them is vivid, powerful- but where the dark magic intends to sap and weaken the Grace patriarch, the blows of crushing gravity and warping time seems too much.

At least... for now.

Ambrose sharply exhales. There is a crimson ichor.. drip, drip..! and carefully the Master of Collective wipes it. Even if he were on the losing side..

He would not present himself as undignified.

"--Selling humanity for the cheap immortality?"

"You really know nothing, Cedar Grace." A huff. Where he recollects himself, the Collective aids the Prince up once more.

"My intent is to return one day to Apropriya, to commit to Grand Cleansing and purge the Elders. No mortal man, and not even Angels, can overcome them."

"I am but a fledgling. They are god among men. To fight against them - one must be an equal, eventually." Even then..

"Have you never heard a proverb - fight fire with fire?"

The intent of such was known to some, but even then, he remarks. As for Sibyl..?

"...And the fact you say that I shouldn't utter her name?"

"You don't know... even this? She never told you?" A frown. They say in the heat of battle, in the heat of stress..

People hardly keep up with the masquerade. They hardly lie, if ever.

"We shared the night together."

"I held her close to me - and I admired her, as much as she admired me. But whatever we had.."

"It was ruined."

Yet, it does not mean that the memories fade easily. It does not mean that these feelings fade either..

"So do not pretend like you know - and do not tell me whether I'm worthy of uttering her name."
(Ambrose Roche)

Reality skewed.

Gravity contorted, time bending to the will of the man in control of it all. The enactor of his own fate. The natural withering forces of nature whittled at his health, time continuously reversing, his wounds - albeit the small ones, mended. Poisons were reversed, combatted by having never existed.

Eternity's Edge rapidly rotated, swiveling about.

It was no use having his brother's will wield the blade for him - no, it'd be better left in his hands this time. The blade was called back, the cosmos above reflecting off the gleaming edge of it. The hilt was grasped by curling digits.

Each swipe erased space. The space between them carved from the fabric of reality, bringing them closer. Seconds of time ticking away, shaved off the clock.

This was why he came. The rush of battle, that feeling of.... Being alive, the adrenaline, pulsing through his veins. Nothing else could bring it, he had... Almost forgotten it in hisold age.

"... Nothing? I know nothing?"

The man's burly shoulders and packed sinew rippling as he swung the blade about adeptly, "You disrespect the strength of mortals..."

"- And yet you are losing to one."

"Do you feel it? That embrace of undeath... You feel it coming, don't you? You were too insecure in your strength you decided to turn to immortality. You are only immortal in name, Ambrose. You will never age - But you can be cut down."

Cedar was taken aback by his next words.

"I don't believe that for a second."

His blade was leveled with renewed zeal.

"Ain't no way in Hel her taste in men is this shitty."
(Cedar Grace)

{RP BATTLE} You have LOST round 2!

Cedar Grace has lost 12 vitality from this battle for three hours.

{RP BATTLE} You have LOST the battle!

{RP BATTLE} {INJURY} You roll a d6... You get 3!

Every second.

Every minute.

Things precious to the chronomancer. Every moment was to be cherished, every frame of reality held some semblance of importance. Even in battle, the mere twitch of a finger, tremble of a lip, flick of an eye, quirk of an eyebrow. They all meant something.

"Tell me - Ambrose... Why do you wish to never die? Why do you cling to life so desperately when it is so fleeting?" The words were exchanged amidst combat. What is it to you?" The man sought understanding. He was not... An inherently evil man. He did not wish to cleave this vampire's existence, even if he had been ordered to take his life.

"To me, life is... The moments, feelings. When my children were born... When I married my wife, trained Sibyl..." His blade swiveled, sidestepping the man's desperate whip of nature, Cedar's free hand clasping down onto his forearm, the serrate edge of Eternity driven into his abdomen.

"Life is beautiful - I see why you cling to it... But there is beauty in death, growing old. One day I will not be here for my children, to guide the youth, like Sibyl. These hands have taken one life - Andromeda's. I do not wish to take more. Cease your expansion of your parasitic city. That is my purpose in coming here."

"I will fight until I know that my family will be safe. They won't have to worry about you roaming to feed off of them... Sapping the lives of others to further your own... Sibyl would never love a man like you. You seem smart... But you lack in everything else."

The blade was pulled up, flesh splitting, bones cracking, the sword drawn up to the bosom of the thinner man. Sparking arcs of chronomancy bounced wildly around, winding about. The vampiric nature of the man would heal this almost immediately.

If not for the withering effects left in. Whenever the wound would patch itself up,it would immediately ripple back downwards, splitting open once more. Over and over, it bore no end.

The blade retracted, the limp body of Ambrose cast aside to sprawl across the ground.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to attend to my family."

He curtly began to move through the smog once more, gravity pulsating with each step, craters left in his wake.
(Cedar Grace)

Event Admin: Adrian Ivanovich vs Nestis
Sebastian vs Ektu Grace
Revna Rune vs Cedar Grace
Annete vs Rigs
Blair vs Cypress Grace
Auberon Invidia vs Nanzo
Autumn Wicks vs Aranha
Vrana, Morven vs Ky, Sohan (cap 0)

DANGER CAP 1+!
[Narrate]

He tries.

And tries, and tries..

But it is ultimately a futile action that sees no fruition. Does he fail because he's unable to catch the Chronomancer, perhaps? Or is it because of his own failings, his own mistakes made along the way? For as much as the dark arrows of Occult seek to pierce through his defenses, at times armed with excessive potency..

It is still not enough.

But amidst the battle, there is a revelation- found to be written on the pages of blood and vitae spilling alike, for his flesh was oft injured by Cedar in the process; the Collective fought for its master, seeking to keep Cedar away..

But to no avail.

"--Because my family was slaughtered by vampires."

"Because I was born to Paladins from the Order of the Silver Sun - serving Angel Soliel." Does he not see? Does he not understand the ultimate purpose behind his act?

"But even with her divine magic, she fails. Even at her full power, an Angel can barely match a single Elder." Does Cedar not understand the despair of this situation?

Vampirism is but a tool,
Ambrose despised the Elders, however.

"I do not scorn the mortals, nor their power. But if you were to face an Elder, Cedar Grace- if any of us would do so.."

"We would die in a blink of an eye."

The Moxtli Warchief simply did not understand the power that Ambrose is talking about here - because he never witnessed the power of the Elders. But Ambrose?

He did. They were truly gods among men.

"Only centuries of experience and skill can match them - and I just began my path. I am barely twenty one year old."

That alone should explain why Ambrose wishes to extend his lifetime; by the time he could even match the strength of Cedar Grace, that'll be already most of his youth gone. At that point..

It's of no use. But where their battle continues, and the blade of the Grace winds up, if only to slash against Ambrose.. it is soon moved aside- his regenerative capabilities already trying to restore his flesh, but..

Time magic prevents it from doing so.

Yet, as Cedar chooses to speak of Sibyl? It is one last thing that wounds him.. but it does not wound his flesh.

It wounds his heart.

"--I know." All too well that she would never love a man like him.

"That is why I gave up."

Forced back, the Master of the Collective had no choice but to retreat- the rift was quickly conjured by the Collective, if only to begin a retreat.

"Collective. Take me to safety."

In this purple hue...

He vanishes.
(Ambrose Roche)

Event Admin: It is not a clean battle, nor is there a decisive winner- there is, however, a decisive loser.

Though the fighting goes back and forth, forth and back...there is one thing that is undoubtedly certain. Amidst the chaotic flinging of magic from all three sides, the bombardment of siege weaponry-

Fort Umbra is shattered, and destroyed. Fires rage about the battlefield, rubble coating the ground. The blood flows in rivers- a dark red that threatens to stain the earth.

Today was a bloody day for everyone involved in the fighting...
And yet more is to come, with the queen demanding prisons and Cedar's temporal blade preparing to cleave through Revna, the corpse of the great giant Smurg in the grasslands. The flames dance throughout the jungle in the blood and chaos, the east is unable to be tamed in this night.
[Narrate]

Wounded.

For as much as Ambrose fought his way against other magi, it was not the kind that would see him emerge victorious- quite on the contrary, it paints a painful image of defeat, one that had him slashed right across his body.

Temporal magics tampering with him.

"..Hrm."

It seems that the battlefield was gruesome.. so much so that it would be difficult to tell whether they're actually pushing back- but considering the circumstances of Moxtli's powerful warriors that intervened with their assault..

Was it any wonder that this would happen?

Amidst this raging battle, not a single Mire monstrosity was attacked by the forces of Moxtli - and instead, they were pushed back by the forces on both fronts.

And yet..

The Prince emerges from the rift; the ripple of purple hue is evident, yet as much as he holds himself together, his movement is followed by a crimson ichor.

drip.. drip.. drip..!

Bleeding. Had it not been for his regenerating ability, then perhaps he would be wounded much worse, but..

"Collective. Maintain the guard."

"I do not want to see a soul next to me."

Somewhat.. annoyed, with this defeat, but it's only natural. With the shadows dispatched to carry out their Master's task, the brooding, wounded Prince makes his way elsewhere.

There is much to do.
(Ambrose Roche)