Raw Log: Drenai/Verys in Ghenna

Please wait, connecting to server...

Connected!

⭐ Looking to smarten up your Oasiz profile? Get a new one, it's easy! oasiz.net/forum/?showtopic=25991 ALL users can now create pretty profiles like this for free: oasiz.com/Heisenberg?oacc=true Sign up today for free and secure your username/handle over on our new site: oasiz.com/?oacc=true&ref=chat  ❤

​

Note: Oasiz has detected that you are connected to this chat session from the IP address 64.44.55.12.

​

The chat's topic is: Carved from the mountainside, the monolithic stronghold looms in silent majesty. [ Happy Birthday to us! Celebrating ten years on Oasiz. ] [ Cloudy & Snowing ]

​

Visit http://deathstalkerempire.com to join! Also inform Drenai so he can upgrade your membership. [ Description of castle and region may be found here: http://tinyurl.com/os6ec53 ]

​

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : well hello miss. ]

Ⅴєʀүѕ : Don't give me that, Tyrant.]]

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : seem to have got myself in a spot of bother. ]

﴾Ɲǝʋɒɚի﴿ : Bitch slap him... it'd be aight 🤣)

﴾Ɲǝʋɒɚի﴿ : No...don't do that)

Ⅴєʀүѕ : So I hear. ]]

Ⅴєʀүѕ : Don't worry, Mama will come save you.]]

﴾Ɲǝʋɒɚի﴿ : Alright Im taking my tired ass to bed.... Peace)

Ⅴєʀүѕ : goodnight, lady~]]

Jαƌϵ·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >.> )

Ԑꭆɩᴤ♥ŁɛϺⱺꭆтɛ : Night ]

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : lmao. ]

﴾Ɲǝʋɒɚի﴿ has left the conversation.

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : blonde strands. The necessity of bathing and grooming, was something he had not truly understood, though he had known the effects of neglecting the two second hand. Other aspects of being something that approached human had also come as rather disturbing revelations to this man who had once been a thing crafted by the hands of men. The propensity for a certain part of his anatomy to be awake and ...for want of a better description aching for action before he was, he -c-

Ԑꭆɩᴤ♥ŁɛϺⱺꭆтɛ has left the conversation.

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : found rather baffling. Though it seemed to sort itself out eventually, it was a damned nuisance when one had to seek the chamber pot for the morning piss. Damned inefficient design in his estimation. By far, it was the intensity of the emotions that he faced that troubled him the most. While he was getting a handle on them, the more primal urges had yet to yield to his scrutiny. Perhaps he needed to follow where they lead, to truly understand them. -d-

Ԟⱺꝛ◦ɛͷͷɩꝛ has joined the conversation.

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : welcommen)

Ԟⱺꝛ◦ɛͷͷɩꝛ : Thanks )

Shadow_Grey has joined the conversation.

Shadow_Grey has left the conversation.

Cαsιм·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ has joined the conversation.

Sεναsτı·Cryтιĸos has joined the conversation.

Ⅴєʀүѕ : Yaaaaas]]

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : Welcome home tall pale and lichy)

Maahes has joined the conversation.

Maahes is away.

Ⅴєʀүѕ : Welcome home, y'all.]]

Cαsιм·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : Thank you.))

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : welcome home folks! ]

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : :: Far from the world of Larlandarl in a place beyond the scope of mortal understanding existed the Abyss. Some also called it the Underworld, for it was where the dead would roam for eternity if they hadn’t lived morally wholesome lives that would warrant them an Afterlife in the Celestial Spheres. Occupied by Devils and Demons, damned souls and restless spirits, the Abyss was typically divided into layers. Each representing the territory of the most powerful chaotic Fiend in the region. Amongst the most notorious of these layers was The Fourfold Furnaces. What was known as the Bleak Eternity of Gehenna and The Fires of Perdition. >>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> Bordering the Gray Wastes of Hades and the Nine Hells of Baator, it was best known for its infernal wasteland. Comprising smouldering dark skies and volcanoes of immense proportions. Amidst this backdrop of fire and brimstone was a dominion of epic proportions. A bleak metropolis of obsidian and ash with infinitely high towers, boasting of industrial power. With thousands of fiendish, fire-immune legs grafted under the massive lower deck, allowing for mobilisation throughout the plane and thus named The Crawling City. Able to cling to the steepest cliff face on Gehenna and slowly ford the broadest river of lava. >>

Sir_Thrace_Daighan has joined the conversation.

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> Were it not for the utter terror it instilled in confounded observers who unwittingly stumbled on this place, a soul might’ve been impressed by its sheer magnitude. This was the seat of Immoten’s power. The jewel in his Abyssal Crown and unbeknownst to him, a rogue Nephilim had done the unthinkable (see also: very stupid). With a cowl pulled low over his head, the human-looking warrior ran through the streets. Catching glimpse of low barracks occupied by strange demons known as Yugoloth who were the primary inhabitants of this plane. Passing siege towers housing potent war magic and academies where fiendish strategists sought advantage in the Blood War. >>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> Slipping into an alleyway, Drenai eyed factories where smithies mass-produced fiendish military hardware. Recalling ancient prophecies in its millennia of existence, Gehenna was preparing for an apocalyptic final battle. The Axe-Man had concluded that Larlandarl was the first planet on its hit-list, one of many worlds that Immoten sought to destroy. Crouching behind a large trash receptacle, Drenai hid and waited. Opening the sack he’d been carrying to reveal an assortment of glowing purple stones, what were best described as spiritual explosives. The Titan embarking on a spot of international terrorism, having planted these soul bombs in strategic locations throughout the Crawling City and configured on a delayed timer. The anticipation building as the detonation approached the final seconds. >>

Εʀzαbεт·тнε·Sαтyʀ has joined the conversation.

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> “Three…Two…One.” Muttered Drenai. The Emperor squinting his eyes shut. Nothing. A frown worn on his rugged features. “One.” He repeated. Still nothing. “Fuck.” He lamented in frustration as he opened his eyes and stood up from his hiding spot behind the trash receptacle. Only to be confronted by an enormous green explosion from across the street as the aforementioned factory blew up. The blast knocking him off his feet. Drenai laying in a puddle of acidic rain and gazing at the sky. Erupting in laughter before spotting winged Tanar'ri demons crisscrossing the bleak heavens and gliding between rooftops. They were searching for the bomber he realised. “Need to keep moving.” Scrambling to his feet. >>

Εʀzαbεт·тнε·Sαтyʀ : *has blood war flashbacks*))

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> Navigating the abyssal streets. Knowing his brazenness would surely see him killed, he unrolled the tattered map in his rough hands. “If I can reach the Well of Souls at the city-centre, I can catch a portal back to Larlandarl.” Heading down another back alley until he reached a dead end. Doubling back on himself only to be confronted by a band of Yugoloth armed with tridents, chains and fiery whips. “Shit.” Growled Drenai. ::

Tempestas has joined the conversation.

TʜᴇLᴀᴅʏ has left the conversation.

Polaris☆ has joined the conversation.

Polaris☆ is away.

Tempestas is away.

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : Ya know...there is something to be said for boldness...but then there is that line...)

Jαƌϵ·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : It's Drenai, even his inseem is bold )

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : True...)

Ⅴєʀүѕ : -copies that down-]]

Ⅴєʀүѕ : Bold...inseams...]]

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : -snort- ]

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : Fortunately, mine only leans toward the italic...)

ლ{ಠ益ಠლ} has left the conversation.

ლ{ಠ益ಠლ} has joined the conversation.

✷Sᴄʀᴀᴛᴄʜ✷ has joined the conversation.

✷Sᴄʀᴀᴛᴄʜ✷ has left the conversation.

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : It was one of those primal urges, that lead him to the brothel. However, once inside, and faced with the choices, he was confronted with the paucity of his experience in such matters. He spoke quietly with the Madame concerning this, and found her to be most understanding as well as somewhat amused given his apparent age. The selection of a suitable consort followed, one who would be patient with his ineptness, who could guide him through this quite baffling dance that -c-

¤¥ulef Ta`am¤ : was much older than civilization, and even the race of men. It would be an eye opening experience that much was certain. -d-

Ⅴєʀүѕ : ||ᛘ|| A broiling mount of festering, fiendish bottom feeders rolled with sluggish progression. A single step translated into a crawling elevation of Yugoloth, all piled onto one another as they craned their necks, snapped their teeth and clawed at one another to reach the center. Violent, malevolent and gnashing they were-- all reaching to snap a piece of their brethren back in hopes of clawing their way toward what lie at the heart of their hundreds. Some delicious bit of the heavens, a true ambrosia that drew them in and awakened their madness. What was pure benumbed them, and every fiber or their unholy rotten flesh wanted it with magnitude that couldn't be quantified. Slowly, the mountain of demons grew, more clambouring on as they clung to the distant evanescent taste of her flesh on the air. A Valkyrie, some hope for salvation in their unforgiving hellscape. Salvation for those fallen to untimely, unheroic, licentious death. The mountain moved, one laborious step at a time. -c

Ⅴєʀүѕ : Demons rolled beneath one another at its front, ichor and poison gushing from beneath the pile with each arduous step. "You will not leave unnnnssssscathed." Hel warned. Her salacious voice, undertoned by distant shrieks played at the Valkyrie's thoughts. Some foreign discharge slapped her in the face and dribbled off of her chin where her helmet was open. She felt it run down the length of her neck and Verys cringed. Repugnant. Shouldering their weight with an intense lean as she walked, the growing pile of Yugoloth was rank. Their clawed hands reached and pulled at her face, her arms, her shoulders, between her legs. What she wouldn't give for a decent mount or a bit of space right at that moment. Continuing in her path, she led them through a valley through which she could dispose of them (as many of them as possible). It wasn't a comely face, graceful body or what lie between her thighs that drove them toward her-- it was her essence. What she represented to these vile fiends was -c

Ⅴєʀүѕ : far more potent than mortal beauty. She radiated with celestial power, though only borrowed from the greater Gods and afforded through occupation. It was her gift, a tool kit for delivering the deceased to their final victory Hall. It ensnared them all, minds rampant with lust for salvation. They could smell it on her flesh, cloying and promising. It was what weakened them, made them prey to slaughter. Blinded by the radiant being's nature so that all they could see was their own desire for freedom. It was what all beings felt when her arrival was imminent. Glory! Victory! Valhalla! Verys spat at the nearest of her foes, whose claw found purchase in the eye slits of her helmet. Growing impatient with them, she released the unbridled glory of her potence on them whilst crying "WELK NEI MEIRI!" [Walk no more!] From an outside perspective, the mountain of crawling, clawing Yugoloth would have appeared to collapse at its center, sending out a shock wave of undulating limbs, heads and -c

Ⅴєʀүѕ : torsos. Beneath them, the Valkyrie had collapsed into the craggy orange soot one of Ghenna's many canyons, taking the lot with her. The rusty soil yawned to swallow them as beams of golden, white light shot through the gaps in their bodies whilst they began to come apart. Their fiendish screams rising in a cacophony of discord-- shrieks and curses in their mother tongues before those themselves began to turn to ash in their mouths. Bodies turned black before grey, dissipating into ash where they'd once been many and blowing in the wind around the only thing left standing in their wake: Verys. Now, where was the son of a bitch Tyrant?||ᛘ||

Sir_Thrace_Daighan is away.

Ԟⱺꝛ◦ɛͷͷɩꝛ has left the conversation.

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : :: This particular squadron of Yugoloth were known as Mezzoloths who appeared as humanoid insects, standing as tall as Drenai at seven feet. They had six lanky limbs, four of which were arms ending in horned hands that were tipped with talons. Their entire bodies covered in dense plates of ivory-coloured chitin; their broad skulls notably armoured. Wide-set, insectoid eyes able to see in ultraviolet and infrared spectra. Although they could fight unarmed using their talons and fists to rip apart the flesh and sinew of enemies, the shields and tridents they carried signified their allegiance to Immoten. >>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> His demonic crest inscribed on their weapons. With access to spells of darkness and an innate ability to exude noxious yellow fumes, these insectoid warriors were able to fight in their self-generated fog unimpeded. Conveying no verbal sound, they instead communicated through limited telepathy with those of basic sentience. The Mezzoloth blocking off Drenai’s only means of escape as they converged in the alley. Catching him off guard, spraying him with toxic mist. Drenai coughing before he was engulfed in darkness -- the Yugoloth projecting their shadow magic towards him. >>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> The Nephilim then set upon. With the odds against him and outnumbered the Titan lamented his hubris, knowing his pride had brought him here. His life about to come to an abrupt end in these infernal streets, in part due to his fatigue and unfamiliar surroundings. Realising that Soul Bleeder would be ineffective due to the narrow alley, lacking the required space to generate effective swings with the battle axe. The close proximity of his attackers bombarding him from all sides. He couldn’t even see them to retaliate, swinging in vain as he was repeatedly struck at. >>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> A blow to the head as Drenai staggered. Gripping to the edge of consciousness as the spell of darkness dissipated, one of the Tanar'ri hovering above spotting the skirmish. They’d been looking for him as well. Of a particular breed, known as a Balor, the bat-winged, red-skinned monstrosity swooping low to fetch him. Growling in pain as claws sank into his shoulder, the Emperor feeling himself being lifted and carried off. >>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> There was a crimson tint near the ground due to the magma flow and pyroclastic ash, but it quickly faded after a few dozen feet overhead. Drenai’s tree trunk legs scrambling in mid-air as he struggled to break free though to no avail. Barely clinging to his axe. Now airborne, the Nephilim had no choice but to marvel at the breadth and scale of The Crawling City from this height. Its twisting shrines and obsidian towers sculpted in the reoccurring image of Immoten. The air itself filled with feather-soft gray ash, which fell everywhere like dread snow. >>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> So too, could the River Styx be seen, flowing through the wasteland beyond the walls of the metropolis. Its polluted currents hurtling through gorges and canyons with breathtaking speed. Legendary cataracts where the surface was broken by boulders and jutting pillars, the ledges creating waterfalls that would never find the bottom of the layer, either evaporating or disappearing into fissures and cracks. >>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : >> Whilst floating in an impenetrable, infinite void were volcanic mountains seemingly without base or peak, measuring hundreds of thousands of miles in each direction. The slopes burning with constantly flowing magma. Cascading lava rivers forming in the distance. Drenai’s heavy lids struggled to remain open as he took in as much as he could, his grip loosening on the haft of his weapon until Soul Bleeder fell from his grasp. ::

Morgan_Thalasi has joined the conversation.

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : welcome. ]

Morgan_Thalasi : Ty)

Darwin_Poole has joined the conversation.

↼Emory·Evorian· : welcome everyone]

Darwin_Poole : <<TY>>

Ðᴙϵɴαı·Ɗϵɑτђsταᴌᴋϵᴙ : welcome! ]

Darwin_Poole has left the conversation.

Ⅴєʀүѕ : ||ᛘ|| Acid fell from the skies in sheets of decrepitation, peeling back the flesh of those suffering there with unrelenting ruin. Old wounds re-opened by the vicious climate of Ghenna, whose entire purpose lie in the torture of its miserable inhabitants. Blight and putrefaction surrounded her, punctuated by the landscape and its unnatural counterpart: The sprawling empire of Immoten. Gliding on putrid air were the Tanar'ri, circling like vultures with hostile gaze in surveillance of their land. Likely looking for the same prideful asshole she was. The battle-maiden turned to watch as molten rock gushed down the length of the canyon toward her, eating away at the umber landscape as it crawled. Sighing with passive aggravation, she turned on a heel and climbed out of the crater she'd created, where it would soon pool. Glinting in the smog-filtered light, golden armor smeared with the sanguine excrement of the Yugoloth filth would signal a beacon of hope for onlookers while she labored-c

Ⅴєʀүѕ : of her own hole. The heat was palpable, though it bore no effect on her. By nature resistant to those things which caused putrefaction and decay, the Valkyrie noted that while she didn't sweat or wear from heat-exhaustion, the elements were unkind to any living thing unlucky enough to fall into its domain. Her step increased, finding ample reason to avoid the magma as she spied the circling winged beasts once more. Their shadows were cast long and dark on the ground where they prey. A Balor dove amidst them, marking its intent amongst a crowd she couldn't see past the spires and structures of the city. It's crimson flesh and wide-splayed black-tinted wings marked it visually, she needn't spy its curved horns or lightening gaze to identify it. When it rose, it did so with it's lunch securely clasped in its dark, curved talons. From the distance, Verys could make out the hulking frame of Drenai. Her features twisted beneath the visor of her golden, winged helm. "Hvat fuckrinn?" [What -c

Ⅴєʀүѕ : the fuck?] She cursed, drawing a sharp breath between her teeth as she watched the iconic axe fall from his grasp and disappear beyond the skyline of Immoten's proud empire. Could he truly not fend off the Balor with that divinely forged weapon of his? Would she be so lucky as to collect the man and drag him to Valhalla today? No. She'd learned better over years of watching the Tyrant repeatedly escape the clutches of death by varying degrees of success. Each time being called on to wait for the moment he'd fall-- and always watching as the opportunity to seize the idiot slipped through her grasp. Verys was beginning to believe the bastard would never die. His time would come, all things died. Watching with pupil-less halcyon gaze, she stood serenely in the hellscape as she watched the Balor clutch its prize. "Gangi þér betur næst." [Better luck next time.] She thought aloud, walking toward a discarded scepter where it lie in the path of lava. Shifting comfortably as -c

Ⅴєʀүѕ : she reached, paldrons glinted over a bloodstained cuirass. Golden mail glittered beneath, backplates shifting to open as she kicked the end of the scepter so that it pivoted against a dusty rock. Lifting her toe, she caught it by the shaft and tapped it on the ground to steady her grasp. And with that, the Valkyrie set out to follow the unlucky Balor toward its destination, only stopping along the way to collect a couple of small souvenirs. ||ᛘ||