Fracturing of a Cult

[21:15] Vedran Ivanovich says, "Mmh.. Oh."
[21:15] Saige says, "Piece of sh-... Ah."
[21:15] Syracuse Fengari says, ". . ."
[21:15] Vedran Ivanovich says, ". . ."
[21:15] Elijah asks, "..?"
[21:15] Syracuse Fengari says, "Oh, please don't stop just becuase I arrived."
[21:15] Hathor says, "We were waiting."
[21:15] Hathor says, "No one wants to smoke with me like the lame-os they are."
[21:15] Syracuse Fengari says, "Alright."
[21:15] Hathor says, "Anyway. Time to go round up my captives of the war so we can start sacrificing."
[21:15] Syracuse Fengari says, "Bring them in."
[21:16] Saige says, "... We're sacrificing? I guess that makes sense."
[21:18] Syracuse Fengari says, "They came here to kill us or enslave us. Though, in return we'll simple send them to rapture with Belial."
[21:23] Quick to go outside and untie the line of prisoners that had ropes linking their hands and necks to the following individuals hands and neck. There was a dozen soldiers of Huangzhou--- all nonmagi and none of any true relevance led one by one into the building. Shivering as they were made to wait outside in the cold, Hathor drug them all to stand centermost within the circle of chairs. From there?

She'd move a hand toward each of their mouths, ripping off the tape-like gags that bound all their lips. Some shouted profanities. Others remained silent and terrified. Whatever the case however, the Nethradin seemed to ignore them all, make sure they were set to stand in a circle. And the tied once more at the wrists to maintain that outward facing position. As if a horde of elephants were protecting the young in the center.

Still preparing, the Nethradin withdrew a blade from her cloak. It was ornate. Not used for combat. With small ruby-like gems placed within the handle and guard. Toward the bottom at the small pommel there was an eye-shaped etching. "While it is not truly blessed as of yet by Belial or his apostles like my last ritual dagger, I figured we can consecrate it in the corrupted starlight you bare, and in the blood of these... mundane individuals so trapped by their own moral codes. In need of being let free of their burdened mortal coil so that their spirits can find themselves liberated."

The dagger was then handed handle-first toward Syracuse.
(Hathor)
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[21:34]
{LOAD GAME}

[21:46] The building itself was rather empty, devoid of notable fixtures or symbols of worship to the sealed god. The scarlet hues of Belial's blessed scanned the room with a discerning eye. It wasn't much but here, in this building of stone built by the young Eniel Daigal. Would be the start of their sacrifices to free Belial, it's apostles, and those bound within it's realm with it.

Strolling about the room he'd glance to the ceiling, within it was a great glass window. Mightily stretching across the roof of the structure. Offering a clear view to the stars above and when the time was write the watchful gaze of the moon itself. A smile creep'd upon the magi's face as he looked up at the stars above. He could tell by their placements that the moon was drawing close over head. He'd shift his gaze to the faithful.

His gaze drifting over those magi and non-magi alike who'd joined them to praise Belial. Yet, as his scarlet hueslooked upon then, they'd also seen the bound and gagged prisoners as they'd been brought in. Soldiers from all over Agartha, renegade Dawnishmen, Jianghese, Gehennans, and everything in between. There where so many of them, all had stood with Huangzhou, all captured by Hathor or another of the cult as they'd fought and beat back the rest of Agartha in the last battle of the current warring period. He watched as she rounded them up, unbound their gags and gave them the freedom of speech.

With a deep breath, he tapped into his connection to Belial. He could feel the sealed god crying for release, could hear the whispers of countless who prayed for their freedom. They wished for company, to help alleviate the torture of their imprisonment. He understood that desire, he'd wished for something to feel the loneliness everyday while in Huangzhou's cells. His scarlet hues blazed in the darkness, as corrupted mana began to leak out from his very being.

Those glowing orbs shifted back to the faithful. Taking them in as what they where, brothers and sisters who'd arrived to help him. Who'd chosen to adhere to the tenet of freedom. They'd wished for their gods release and he would not tire until he'd achieved it. For once the Sealed God walked upon Eternia so to would Azreal and the Dreamer's vision of a Utopia could begin. He'd look toward Hathor as she'd offer him a dagger. He'd tilt his head as he looked upon it, a manic smile touching his features. He'd reach out a hand and grasp the hilt of the blade. A voice, silky and smooth boomed from his throat. Echoing in the hearts and minds of those who where present, his throat hummed golden as he spoke.

"Aspirants! Faithful! Tonight we've gathered to celebrate our victory over those who'd keep our spirits shackled to their desires! Those who'd slay use for our belief in ourselves! Cowards and sheep who cannot understand that Humanity was born to be free, not to be forced to accept their rules or their order!"

As he roared he'd point towards one of those soldiers who'd came to attack his home and kill his countrymen. An older woman who'd a particularly nasty look upon her face, profanities spilled out of her mouth like a fine water. There was hatred and rage in her eyes and heart. It was clear that she'd been eager to see the city of Dawn wiped out from the world.

"This woman is a soldier who'd sought to destroy our city and our faith! However, we are not some hatred fueled monsters! Whom offer only maiming and enslavement!"

As he spoke he'd take a step towards them, perhaps it was his size or the scarlet hues that blazed as he got closer or perhaps it was the sickening tendrils that radiated from the Neries. Most wouldn't be able to see them, foul things made from the smokey spirit. They curled about the room, wrapping around all present, especially the powerful magi who'd come to bear witness and participate in the ritual.

Standing before the Neries, the woman went silent. Unsure what to say, that silence grew only worse as the invisible tendrils that was the Dreamer's blessing started to wrap around them. Draining the small bit of mana this soldier possessed. For those with sight to see, they could tell that even as the tendrils drank greedily upon this person's mana circuitry, something strange was happening. The overflowing cosmic power of Belial was being forced into their circuitry, pushing like a flood to take the place of that which had been pulled away.

"You may speak, you may thank me for freeing you of your own fears. For returning to you the freedom of the long night."

His words rolled forth like honey, hypnotic and mesmerizing as the magic of his melodious spells drifted into the woman's mind. It was a cruel thing perhaps, to re-write what a person was so that they would feel nothing but euphoria for what was to come. Yet, it was something he'd do. In fact it was something he was doing to all of the soldiers, those thick spectral tendrils sliding along the floor to wrap around their bodies, draining their mana. Just as the endless rush of Belial's own came down from the stars.

There was nothing but a pleasant smile upon the woman's face as her eyes grew foggy with Belial's gifts. Yet, even as she realized the power of being freed it was to late. Their body couldn't handle the influx of so much mana, let alone corrupted cosmic energies. Those who knew what to look for could tell that she'd begun to grow weak. Even as she reached upwards with her soul to Belial her body drug her earthwards. Syracuse didn't need to look up to tell that the smiling red moon was above them now, it's light bathing the structure and them.

"I grant you freedom, go and be with Belial. Once you have cleansed your soul of the corruption of Jiuwheihu we will pull you back to be with your loved ones. . . In paradise."

He whispered it, yet it was as loud as a scream to all who was present. The masteries of sound bringing a disconnect with what was real and what was magical. Mere moment's after he'd spoke his blade swung swiftly, the sacrificial knife slicing through the old soldiers throat. In moments they'd be dead, mere seconds of life. Second he could feel drain away with his connection. Second he felt as his own mana circuitry blazed in rage at what he'd done. The burning of Magdalan's runic restraint piercing the very center of his back. It was almost enough to put the Neries down. Almost.

The woman dropped to her knees, the light fading from here eyes. As she died, with a manic smile upon her face and here eyes locked to Belial.
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[21:49] Syracuse with a flip he'd walk away, handing Hathor back their dagger. It'd been concsecrated well enough. He'd give them a nod, they could free the next soldier.
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[21:50] Syracuse Fengari says, "Free them of their old ways, they are ready."
[21:52] Vedran Ivanovich says, "..."
[21:53] {Item} Picked up a bag of 500 dropped by Hathor.
[21:54] Listening to this entire speech- to observe what was going on, the Oscuri wasn't sure what they were reading. After all, they did not at all follow Belial. Still, it was an interesting experience, and not one that they disliked.

Their nose wrinkled at the blood- the scream- the whisper? Making their head fuzzy. The sound magic wasn't helping, but certainly the message was well received. After a few moments of silence, they opened their mouth to speak-

History History HISTORY, do you see it repeat? The core of the world is at your fingertips!

Look, it's the blood, it's dripping, everywhere! Blood upon blood, bone upon bone.

Your hands, your hands! Draw with the blade, all of your strength.

Azrael remains in chains while you run free! Are you not ashamed? Guilt, Guilt, GUILT!

Remain silent, or remain loud.

What a USELESS-

They tasted blood on their tongue, and before long they realized that they'd basically gnawed a few taste buds off of said tongue after trying to speak. The headache was so great, that they couldn't focus on much else.

Without ceremony, without a word, the Oscuri stood up, nearly clattering the chair, and turned to leave.
(Saige)
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[22:10] Toxidom says, "lol"
[22:12] What a spectacle. And yet... part of it drove the Nethradin batty. Never before had she seen such magics being used by the Neries in the hands of another Belialite. Was he perhaps, blessed by another and simply fooled the group into believing he was a true faithful to the Sealed God?

Whatever was the case, the Minotauress watched as the various soldiers were spoken to by the one who called himself a prophet, there was a taint of jealousy that came from the hooved woman. How badly she wanted to feel the touch of that light directly once more.

When the first sacrifice was made and the dagger was touched not only by Belial's light but also, by the blood of the sacrificed it was finally blessed to be the tool of ritual sacrifice I was meant to be. From there, the Nethradin greedily took the dagger back, swinging it to be held firmly in a reversed grip. It was then that she approached yet another one of the Soldiers. A man, roughly Syracuse's age was the first to be approached.

"Your morals. Are they worth dying for? To live as a slave to an emperor or a fox goddess who truly do not care for you? It's a shame really." Before even getting an answer however, she slit through the artery of the neck, causing blood to quickly rush out the wound. Not even bothering to drain the sacrifices of their mana--- as it seemed Syracuse had already grown a handle on that. Taking from her the meal so she desperately craved. In what seemed like an attempt to show up the Neries, she'd hold the dying man by chin, keeping eye contact with him as blood and soul left the body.

"You will be reborn again. In another life. Where under the gaze of Belial you will be shown the path of true freedom. No longer will you be forced to do any of which you do not. For it is through Belial and only Belial that you might find freedom." And then her hand dropped, her fiery eyes glaring at those to be sacrificed. And then? Toward the Neries.
(Hathor)
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[22:13] Eniel merely watched as Hathor brought in her prisoners, Soon after more of his own would arrive tailing her about half as many as Hathor brought seeing as most died to injuries Eniel gave them prior. He was irritated for some reason but he mostly kept to himself awaited to hear the words of others and allowed for the red moon to gaze over them before the ritual began.

Watching Syracuse combine the Dreamers blessing with Belial's own it was...An interesting interpretation as Syracuse had always been doing. Although Eniel found it brought no justice to his own values. He watched for a while as they all went mad with euphoria from Belial's cosmic mana infesting them.

Eniel enjoyed this part at the very least they're bodies bein filled with corruption their final thoughts being of liberation and then...Then The Knife would strike down upon them releasing them to Belial. Eniel spoke no words but his expression was rather amused he shot a passing glance towards Saige and the person Syracuse brought he didn't really know what an Oscuri was doing here nor what they would feel towards Belial but he left it as it were. None of his business at the moment.

Attention then shifting back to the knife used by Hathor awaiting her to draw the blood of the cackling sacrifices as they could feel the inspiration of the Belial invade them. He awaited for their final release when the blade plunged deeply and extracted what little essence they had left to be returned to Belial.

As he had no role to play in the sacrifice he merely allowed for his prisoners to be offered up as well. He would do his own prayer to Belial and only Belial. He looked towards the moon and ignited his cosmic magics...Oh how close he was to feelin Belial's blessings shine upon him...How he wanted to feel the embrace of his lord...How he wanted to be free of the travesty the lifestream was and connect to the very essence that defies it.

Eniel waited until Hathor was prepared to strike down the victims and when she did he would prepare his prayer speaking mostly to himself and Belial but it would be loud enough for all to hear if they choose to.

O' Belial. Accept upon your throne the freedom of these mortals. Accept their flesh, Their blood, Their bones, Their hearts, Their soul, and their spirit. We offer it all to you. In praise of you and your glory and to one day see you set freed. The Tyranny of Angels persisted for too long...Too long have mankind sought divine wisdom to solve problems they were not yet capable to do. Let this be an offering of our conviction and our devotion to you so you may one day bless us with the same power to break away the bindings of this world and to Liberate them forever more.

(Eniel Daigal)
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[22:24] Syracuse was in horrendous pain, though he worked hard not to show it. The coursing of divine wrath through his circuitry at odds with Belial and the Dreamer's gifts was tearing him apart on a circuital level.

Though, it was doubtfully anyone could notice given outwards signs of pure euphoric power. He'd tilt his scarlet eyes to look upon Siage as they went to leave, ashamed? Fearful? Now, blessed.

With a whisper that none but they could hear, the sounds of the Neries voice trickled into their Squire's ear.

"You turn away Knight of the Shining Star, yet, our work shall free Azreal as well as Belial."

As his whisper slithered in the air, snaking their way to their apprentice a soft smile leveled itself upon his face. Speaking was helping him get over the shock to his system.

"We have searched the oceas and the lands forthe winged savior, yet his prison alludes us still. Where else could it be but the moon? Imprisoned with his old enemy, does that not sound like the ironic cruelty of Kraus?"

His words came to an end at that point. He'd laid the bait, whispered a truth that he believed into the Oscuri's ears. It would either take root and give them direction, or it would fall away just another whisper.

His gaze shifted readily to Hathor's own fiery glare. He could feel the rage, the jealousy, the spite. Yet, he offered only a smile, his teeth shining in the moonlight. He had nothing to prove, one could not fool a god after all.

He'd shift his gaze to Eniel then, listening to the young man's prayer. It was a beautiful thing to hear, so pure in it's devotion to Belial. So, right. He'd shift his gaze back to Hathor for but a moment. She'd not return the knife for another's use most likely.

However, he was the blessed of Belial. All he touched was marked by that gods presence. With a shift of his features he'd toss the axe towards Eniel once he'd finished speaking.

"Your faith is pure, young Exemplar. I can feel the gaze of Belial turn to you with happiness."

His gaze shifted back to Hathor, those brilliant scarlet hues glowing brightly as they where empowered by his corrupted cosmic energies.

"As for you, Hathor, the whispers of those whom died with you in life. They long to stride with you again. Belial will bring the same blessing that I possess unto you."

Yet, his gaze didnt' slow as he shifted back to Vedran, tilting his gaze towards him. He'd offer a smile, a sweep of his hand towards the prisoners. Though what he said echoed loudly for all those to hear, magi and non-magi alike.

"We are all equals, all the same in Belial's gaze. You may join us in our praise if you desire. As may any of you who believe that their is some sort of restriction holding you back from participating."

He'd shift his gaze to the remained prisoners, simply waving a hand to them in a grand motion.

"Don't let your trepidation stay your duty to free these people. For our they must be released."

As he spoke the word they, he cast a glance to saige. They knew he would be referring to his belief that Azreal was also imprisoned. That they could free him.
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[22:33] There was a falter in their steps as the whispers trailed upon them. Their expression fell, a blank look in their eyes that almost seemed to turn a haunting, eerie green. Not the vibrant, but more ghastly. They grit their teeth, blood dripping from their chin as it rolled from the bite upon their tongue.

"..."

Turning around towards the others, a small smile was offered- the smile... was strange, almost like it was forced, but it was also genuine. Unhinged, might have been the correct word for it. After a few moments of silence, the Oscuri brought a hand to their head, eyes narrowing.

"Sorry, I have a headache." They stated, rather quietly, though it was definitely audible.

what do you wantThe teenager then pressed both hands together, smile returning in a placidi see that you are manner, nothing tooterrible, even with a flash of pain from theirwho is it you ask for mouth.

"I didn't mean to interrupt anything, that was... nice."why do you lieThe Oscuri stated rather quickly, in a way that one stated something to save face.you deserve hell

"Hope you didn't expect me to kill anyone, I'd feel undeserved."
(Saige)
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[22:37] She.. He? Them. It? Whatever. That didn't matter.

What mattered was the ongoings here. One blindingly, unnaturally green eye fixed on the proceedings, the other pale white. Blinded, likely. Though by what was most certainly unclear. The wild-haired figure's gaze drifted across the interior of this empty church.

Yet that gaze could not help but linger upon the prisoners soon enough. Crimson, like the blessing of the one imprisoned, spilled across the stone. What a mess. So unclean.

The corner of their mouth twitched.

Green and white shifted from fallen corpses, to the neries beyond them. To the Nethradin who radiated such Envy toward this prophet. The twitch turned into a smile. Amusement was evident in this kid's expression.

Faced with such things how could one so young smile?

And yet the little figure paced around the central circle.

They came to stand near the one they'd call Prophet.

No words were spoken, and they decided against partaking immediately. Though it was torment to restrain themself, especially in the presence of the blessings of those so free, they managed. A certain sense of Pride must be maintained, after all.

A mutter was offered toward the large neries. Near silent.
(Elijah)
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[22:37] Vedran remained soundless for the majority of ritual, idly observing as Hathor's fiery gaze was directed at the prophetic Neries while the remaining prisoners shook and cowered-- "I'd require the dagger or another blessed armament then-... in order to properly free them." Expression cold and unwavering in the face of mass death and sacrifice.

Shifting his gaze between Hathor and Syracuse, nodding towards to two befefore advancing towards the group of prisoners-- Baring those pearly white fangs; the temptation to rip open their throats and to indulge in their slaughter quietly arose.

He'd stare with those beady scarlet eyes, as a nagging voice at the back of his head called for gore and death; growing louder and louder with each passing second.

Turning away from the sacrifices... while reaching toward his Odachi; sparking the rune and seamlessly drawing his blade - "A proper christening for my newly-forged blade." The century-old immortal brought the Odachi's edge to the throat of a prisoner, allowing a few moments of silence to permeate.

"Do not fear-- You'll be free from this cycle o' zealotry and morality; sent to a better place instead of his wretched world." Stated, rather coldly; Not even an ounce of empathy was display in that moment..

Could've been assumed that Vedran will slit their throat after Syracuse blesses his blade.
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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[22:51] He'd only offer a warm smile to his former squire at their question. Undeserved, yes he could understand that. He'd much rather have slain them then and their on the field.

Yet, they weren't magi they'd have been a slaughter no matter what. His very presence no doubt could kill most.

"I felt it was polite to offer."

He'd shift his gaze from towards the approaching Elijah. Yet, they would have to wait for a moment. Instead he'd look towards Vedran's acts. He'd the blade and was ready to begin. It wouldn't be much to say that the Neries was surprised they'd use their blade and not their teeth.

After all he was not one so traditional as to only say their was one way to release them from their bindings.

He'd cross the space between them, a hand radiating over the olden blade as he looked upon it. It was a beautiful weapon, one that'd surely cut down the enemies that the vampire would face.

Idly his thoughts drifted to Hathor, and then to Vedran. He knew that in time the old Nethradin might turn against him and attempt to end his life.

His hand simply slide down the blade, the cursed cosmic energies washing over the weapon's blade. Curling around the metals, seeping into it.

No words need be spoken in this act. He need not beg Belial for his gifts. Now, the gods of freedom would give it or he would not. Such was the relationship he possessed.

Yet, within sort time the blade would glow a soft sickly red. The mana infused within it only dimly lit. Yet, as the blood flowed, surely that dimness would shift to blazen light.

"Do as you will Vedran, nothing is demanded."

It was simple, those who wished to join had to do so of their own desires. Not his or anyone elses.

Turning he'd return to the edge of the ritual circle. He'd ever so softly whispers, his mouth unmoving, yet the words drifting down to the young lad. Answering their questions.
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[22:53] He'd only offer a warm smile to his former squire at their question. Undeserved, yes he could understand that. He'd much rather have slain them then and their on the field.

Yet, they weren't magi they'd have been a slaughter no matter what. His very presence no doubt could kill most.

"I felt it was polite to offer."

He'd shift his gaze from towards the approaching Elijah. Yet, they would have to wait for a moment. Instead he'd look towards Vedran's acts. He'd the blade and was ready to begin. It wouldn't be much to say that the Neries was surprised they'd use their blade and not their teeth.

After all he was not one so traditional as to only say their was one way to release them from their bindings.

He'd cross the space between them, a hand radiating over the olden blade as he looked upon it. It was a beautiful weapon, one that'd surely cut down the enemies that the vampire would face.

Idly his thoughts drifted to Hathor, and then to Vedran. He knew that in time the old Nethradin might turn against him and attempt to end his life.

His hand simply slide down the blade, the cursed cosmic energies washing over the weapon's blade. Curling around the metals, seeping into it.

No words need be spoken in this act. He need not beg Belial for his gifts. Now, the gods of freedom would give it or he would not. Such was the relationship he possessed.

Yet, within sort time the blade would glow a soft sickly red. The mana infused within it only dimly lit. Yet, as the blood flowed, surely that dimness would shift to blazen light.

"Do as you will Vedran, nothing is demanded."

It was simple, those who wished to join had to do so of their own desires. Not his or anyone elses.

Turning he'd return to the edge of the ritual circle. He'd ever so softly whispers, his mouth unmoving, yet the words drifting down to the young lad. Answering their questions.
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[23:07] Eniel watched as the slaughter continued blood spilled on to the grounds and began to inch its way out of the circle they had created. Eniel did pick up the axe as purposed to cut off a few heads but he became more enamored with the blood. Pouring what knowledge he knew of ritualistic circles he drew one that offered praise to the Krausites in their time of need.

However he drew it in their own blood as an affront to their god and their religion to angelic and divine knowledge as a whole he did this to shame them for accepting slavery instead of freedom. Eniel had already indulged his bloodlust and killing weaklings who could not fight back didn't appeal to him. He required some challenge at least.

Yet as he enclosed them in the circle he drew in the blood of the sacrificed he'd offer yet another prayer towards Belial. Invigorating the blood with his own cosmic magics so the crimson color washed the ritual circle in Belial's light as the moon hovered over them.

" There are many here who have proven their devotion and many who have chosen to abstain. They will be freed regardless of their burdens and their strife's...I can already feel you attempting to claim me for my destiny and in time soon I will wear the very same glow as the Syracuse does...Now let us all say one final good bye to all who we have gathered...Let their souls be gone in freedom...Let their blood be boil by the Red stars and once they return let them be ready to destroy all that Kraus has forced humanity to destroy. "

As Eniel spoke he would continue to channel his magics through the blood circle soon igniting it with a passionate red star fire crimson almost as if he had been channeling the very will of Belial but instead the color shifted due to the volumes of blood being boiled in the star light pyre. As the moon rose over the pyre the rest of the sacrifices and their corpses would be immolated in the stars light their bodies burning bubbling and the suffering they ensued was that of horrors...Yet there were no screams.

There was only elation, Laughter, the maniacal whims of those who would soon be set free'd of their burdens and returned to Belial where they're faith in humanity and its power can be restored.

" Accept them all My lord, Their bodies and souls...Will all become ash and stardust for you to consume and then to create. Free them so they may once again bask in the glory of freedom and liberation. " There were no bones, Remains or even clothing left behind It was as if they had never existed. The Circle of blood Eniel drew was nothing more than scorched markings on the ground He looked towards Every to see their expressions. Some few sacrfices were still Alive Eniel made sure not to harm those who were in Hathor or Vedran's path but his own were all immolated into nothing.
(Eniel Daigal)
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[23:07] That would be difficult.. But the little figure bowed it's head. Wild hair fell across that round visage. For several long moments there was no movement, not a hint they were anything but a statue. Even their breath was so shallow as to be nigh imperceptible.

Inside, there was preparation.

Perhaps they were more perturbed than they seemed? It was hard to tell for certain. Their hesitation remained for some time, another mutter escaping their lips. They did not wait on a response, but strode forward without hesitation afterwards. An assumption was made that things would follow as asked.

Even if they did not, certain colors were revealed. Stepping into the moonlight brought a change over their form. Where there was reserved twitching, barely contained.. something.. Now a grin stretched wild and manic.

What they perhaps thought to be Oscuri was shown to be Sirenian in nature. The sharpened teeth of that particular race was evident. The only weapon they had upon their form.

They had to make due with what they had access to.

But a glance was spared toward the Prophet, expectant of compliance, yet uncaring without. One dark-toned hand lifted to place upon the shoulder of one of these prisoners, to bring them down to the manic figure's level. And they muttered a few more words, too, before the deed was done.

Before crimson spilled, at the behest of razor sharp teeth.
(Elijah)
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[23:10] As the prophet gracefully slid his hand over the weapon's blade, imbuing it with cursed and corrupted energies-- "Then I shall." Blade instead of teeth, this wasn't a ceremony to Cain - He possessed a certain affinity and fondness for his weapon; serving him fruitfully.

Yet-.. never earning a name.

"With this, I shall free you from this infernal plane of existence-- Pray, Cry, Scream; Do not let me stop your final acts." Letting the sacrificial prisoner wail and fruitlessly bargain, hoping that the reality of the situation would dawn upon them.

Their fate was sealed the moment Vedran leered at them! With a deft and swift movement of his hand; the sword effortlessly sliced through flesh, veins and arteries-- Causing the mana infused blade to illuminate a stark and vibrant vermillion.

The swing's arc caused blood to splatter and travel across the room as the ichor that he worshipped and devoured steadily cascaded onto the marble tiling - forever staining the chapel.

Running silent as his head hung low-- He didn't utter a single word of worship or the usual mumbo-jumbo associated with such a brazen act of sacrifice..

Shooting a glance towards the others, while it was a sacrifice for belial-- It wasn't like Vedran was the speech type!
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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[23:11] {Item} You picked up Star Key. Dropped by Hathor. .
[23:14] As the ritual ended, well there was no more souls left to send on their way at-least. Syracuse would shift his gaze from the corpses towards those gathered.

Of course any of their emotions, their vices, their sins, their virtues. As long as they'd done what they did out of their own will. It would all be sent towards the sky, towards Belial.

He'd shift his gaze back to the other Belialists as it came to a close. After all, they'd all chosen to do what was done willingly. Whether they did it for Belial specifically didn't really matter.

He'd keep his voice silent for a time. As he himself enjoyed the rush of cursed cosmic through his veins.
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[23:28] With the ritual dagger still in hand... the Nethradin placed the bloodied item to her lips. The long serpentine tongue of hers wrapping around the caress the blade and clean. All the while she looked at the number of sacrifices still yet to be had. From there, footsteps took herself before a young lad.

He couldn't have been older than sixteen years old. It was then that the Nethradin rose the blade up to his adam's apple. Poking it light enough that blood was not drawn, she spoke up once more. "Ah. One your age is already so corrupted by the shackles that Huangzhou uses to bind you. Fear. Superstition. Racism. And so many other flaws of their kind. How badly they wished to slay me simply for what I am. Perhaps I too... should pass on their racism. A return of spite." And then the dagger plunged forward. Putting the force behind it needed to penetrate an artery without going completely through, the blade was then withdrawn. Once more did blood spray from the small incision and the pressure built within the veins before. Once more did her white armor grow caked in the blood of her enemies.

And soon she turned herself over toward Eniel. Wide-eyed, she spoke out. "I care not for this speak of Azrael or Dreamer in the Halls of Belial. Personally. I find it heretical. When it was Azrael who sealed our God! It was his followers that drove the cult back into insignificance!" She turned then over toward another Sacrifice. Not even caring to look their way, a blade ran across their throat! Taking her third of the evening.

"This is a house of Belial. And no other deities. Especially not one whose holy art was designed to enslave humanity to his will!"
(Hathor)
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[23:34] Simply held his hand together, as he listned to Hathor speak. He'd tilt his head towards Eniel as well, extending a hand towards Eniel. He'd simply tilt a head towards the axe still in the young man's hand.

After all, it was his axe. He'd not make a move to take. He'd just offer that same smile that so easily settled onto his face. He'd expected a declaration against his faith. Yet, he'd not say a word. He was awash in the blessings of a the gods.

What more proof did he need of his own beliefs?
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[23:41] One after the next after the next. Their body twitched, strained, as though they held back. As though they struggled to contain themself. Each bit of blood which crossed their tongue only made it worse. Desire radiated from the kid.

A draw upon the mana which flooded them. Upon the ethereal favor of the God they so wished to free. One hand shot out and, with ease, the kid ripped the esophagus out of one prisoner, whilst another's carotid artery was severed by razor sharp teeth.

The kid bathed in blood and moonlight.

Yet they were distracted, at last. Partaking in a somewhat common tradition among sirens, they paused to bite into the flesh they'd ripped away, green and white now fixed upon Hathor. A quiet giggle escaped between wickedly sharp teeth as they thought on such words.

With a voice like sand poured across stone, they spoke.

"Is that not hypocrisy? This place, a hall for freedom, and you'd constrain what one may or may not do here? What one may or may not say? I don't much care for that.."
(Elijah)
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[23:43] The teenagers eyes narrowed at Hathor as she spoke out at him, The talk about Azrael? Did he mean the presence of Saige or the fact that Syracuse intended to weave three gods into one where that could not be a circumstance.

He remained silent for a moment before giving the Axe back to Syracuse, Letting him hold his weapon again. Yet Eniel would feel what Hathor was playing at and responded with his own opinions.


"I agree. As much as you willingness to accept Belial is evident in your power I know it in my heart that trusting Azrael...and his spawn are of no aid to us. Dawn is like it has always been. A tool to be used to further our goals. And besides the few green Oscuri who follow Azrael faithfully there is no need for us to give into this pantheon of Gods when all we care for is our own. This place is for Belial and Only Belial."

He'd then shift his gaze to Meet Syracuse in the eyes."It just will not work with two separate ideals clashing...Its not something I can support either. " Eniel then turns his eyes towards the stranger as they speak he is amused clearly by what they had to say and responds.

" Freedom yes. But that does not mean we hold no one accountable for their actions. You are free to do as you please...but there will be consequences for actions that place the Cult at risk. That much is common sense. There is no ideal that is unflawed after all expecting it here is hypocrisy in itself no? "
(Eniel Daigal)
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[23:53] Syracuse took his axe, smoothly re-holstering it within it's place upon his back. He'd listen to Eniel, hear the words being spoken. After a time his gaze drifted away, towards the moon.

He'd hoped that he'd be able to forge together a cult that was more than just the ideals of old. Yet, it had not found fertile ground with Eniel and Hathor.

From the blood moon his sight shifted towards Vedran and Elijah. Yet, he asked nothing of them. Demanded nothing. It was not his place just as it was not his place to demand anything of Eniel or Hathor.

His gaze shifted back towards the altars in the back. Gazing at their crude nature, it was something olden. Something simple. His smile did not falter. Did not waiver, how could it?

His gaze shifted back towards Eniel and Hather, he'd take a few steps to them. Stopping just sigh of arms length. There was no anger coursing through the man's veins. How could he be angry? They where making their own choices. His work could be called done.

"Then, I leave you to this building built for one god. If you so desire it to be. If your beliefs find me so at odds than so be it. It matters not to my convictions just as my own beliefs matters not to yours."

His scarlet hues tilted back towards the moon above for a moment. He'd speak the last few words as he looked upwards.

"In the end our goal lies unchanged. I wish you luck in your efforts. May they prove fruitful as may mine."

With that the Prophet turned to leave, his steel-toed boots plomping through the blood, to clack upon the freshly hewn stones. Striding towards the world beyond.
(Syracuse Fengari)
[00:00] As the prophet turned to leave, observing as the steel-booted Prophet trudged through blood on the way out-- A voice resounded.

"Enough."

For once, Vedran's voice was loud and concise - shattering that usual fa軋de of temperament and silence.

"While this choice ultimately belongs to all of you-- A schism at early point within our growth would be inefficient! Illogical. Compromise is what I can recommend at this stage." Shifting his gaze between Syracuse, Hathor and Eniel� Oh. And Elijah... I guess?

Scarlet hues glared forward as he took a few moments to compose himself.

"Regardless of what necessarily happens to be the 'way' new or old-- Syracuse has already been embraced by Belial! Is a rigid structure truly necessary? Belial doesn't appear to agree with such a strictnotion or Syracuse likely would've gone unheard.." Counterproductive as merging the faiths as they were.

It wasn't like they could confer and debate, setting a different course then quietly falling to pieces.

"Strength in numbers 'nd all"
(Vedran Ivanovich)
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[00:06] Met the vampires Scarlet hues with his own. He'd tilt his head as he listened, ah Stability. The third tenet in all it's glory, the manic smile that blossomed wide across the prophets face couldn't go unnoticed.

Yet, he was a man of the tenets. All of them, even if he failed at some more than others. He'd tilt his head towards Vedran as he listened.

"I offer no compromise, I cannot. Nor do I demand they change their faith for myself. I have no retracted my strength for Belial's unleashing. I only retract my guidance from Hathor and Eniel."

He'd tilt his gaze down towards the bloody floors he'd frown. So much wasted material that could have been used, could have been saved. He'd then give a light chuckle, echoing about the room as he thought of something.

"Isn't it ironice, that they worship the corruption of Belial so fervently. . . And yet fear my beliefs will corrupt them and this place in turn?"
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[00:09] * You have been awarded 1 Roleplay Points! *
[00:13] A visible frown. Did not a one else see this as a problem with this but herself an Eniel? How freeing Azrael would only result in the enslavement of humanity and Belial? With a huff of air, the Nethradin took steps toward the exit of the building. It seemed that the thought of working to free Azrael greatly bothered her.

While the art of Necromancy had it's uses and was his creation, Azrael made it in a way where those who were summoned back were slaves of their masters. Perhaps Syracuse never had the perspective? With a hand moving toward Vedran, she aimed to give him a pull on his shoulder's clothing. "It is not a fear of corruption, it is the fact that Azrael is the one who enslaved Belial and sealed him. It is the fact that his freedom means the slavery of humanity--- that makes the two of them incompatible for worship. The Dreamer? I do not mind. Sure. That's fine. But what has Azrael done for us, but try to make us all his undead servants?! I cannot be made into an undead under his rule. So he would destroy individuals like me. He would destroy the Vampires he cannot tame.

I refuse. To aid. In the freedom of Azrael. For the consequences are far too great." She couldn't lose her life. Nor could she lose the Vampire who she had grown so strongly attrached to. For his sake? The world will break to her unbreakable spirit.

"I'll be going now."
(Hathor)
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[00:15] Eniel eyes narrowed again unto a close as he did attempt to listen to Vedran's words and accept them for what they were neutral and imposing on either side. Yet there was a bigger picture they were all forgetting.

" All I can offer is my perspective and my predictions, So we create a cult that follows three gods. Yes? Yet when one side of the faith grows larger and their voices of hatred form as one the massive amounts of confusion will eventually make turmoil within what we have. What do you believe will happen to the smaller sides? They will erode. We cannot build the fundamentals of religion upon ideals that conflict. There is no path to compromise even if Me and Hathor were to agree the structure of this cult would collapse upon itself like a shark eating its sibling in the womb."


Eniel head began to swing from left to right. " Trust me it is not corruption I fear. It is the compression of Ideals. Youwho have the blessings of two gods within you now tell me tis then. Who do you prioritize more? Who do you give your whole entirety too? Which laws do you follow more? Do you obtain from the restrictions of one god who claims murder is appealing or do you rejoice with the god who claims murder is your blessed right? You perhaps are able to pick and choose which laws you follow at which time but the average man needs answers not more questions. I cannot deny I have lingering resentments for Azrael and Oscuri due to my past but....I do this with no ill will You are indeed blessed by Belial but you cannot forge a path to him with gods who sealed him. "

He'd then cross his arms and is steel blue gazed turned towards the flames and the crude effigy's he made out of stone. " Without purpose humanity crumbles, So they turn to the divine, Or the Fallen. But they have never thought for a moment to free themselves from their chains not once has the option to take freedom for their selves been given. That is what I choose to fight for. You may fight that fight as well. But only in halves. " Eniel prepared himself to leave as well, The bloodied gore that remained would be cleaned up eventually.
(Eniel Daigal)
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[00:16] Vedran Ivanovich says, "... So be it. I have nothin' more to add or advise."
[00:16] Vedran Ivanovich says, "In the end, we'll all do our part, if seperately."
[00:23] Offered a smile, he'd shift his gaze about the room. It wasn't his place to provide enlightenment. No, he could only point towards a path and say This is what I tread. He couldn't force others to walk along it.

"Hathor, you say that you cannot support freeing Azreal. . . Yet I believe him trapped in the moon. So, you believe him to be there as well?"

He recalled their first meeting, that first conversation in Vedran's house. Though he didn't linger upon it. His gaze shifted to Eniel. He'd offer a smile to them. They spoke of logic, cold analytical. It was not his forte.

"You don't understand, Belial granted me my freedom. I choose to express it through the tenets because I find fulfilment in them. I wish to free Azreal because the Holy Arts are a gift that can bring Humanity unto paradise."

He'd shake his head as he laughed, watching them all go to storm out. They'd wanted this house to house only one god. Yet, he stood with the blessings of two. Still in it while they left.

"Vedran, you are right. We'll work towards our goals separately, yet in the days to come I may call upon them for aid as they may do myself. Our goal is the same our power all focused."

He was the Prophet, he would answer the call of his flock. Even if they went astray or ran him over. It was just that simple.
(Syracuse Fengari)
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[00:26] At this point? The lot of them were distracted. Busy with their arguments over ideals and otherwise. The kid didn't care for such things. They didn't bother trying to convince anyone of their own views, for their views were unimportant. To them, at least.

They cared so much. So much devotion.

In the end, the kid didn't. That's what it came down to. There weren't many things the kid wanted. But right now? Right now they could partake. Those few left living soon.. Weren't. And those now dead were the central focus of this kid for now.

Wordless, they tore into flesh. A curious few thoughts flickered through the back of their mind, memories of the context in which they'd heard these stories before. The perspectives on religion- It changed from person to person. And this, in itself, was amusing.

What would they say if the kid challenged their beliefs?

Green and white looked up from the mess they'd made of one of the corpses, one hand stuck in their mouth. A severed hand. One they were methodically gnawing upon just then. Agonizingly slowly. Rather calm.

Dinner and a show..
(Elijah)