Wraith Battl

epo would run over to his fallen comrade


Slowly.. he cried and consumed his body... The final form of a nagual.. To fight against it's maker...



He needed the power.. he wanted it.. He needed to defeat this thing... he already lost everything... This was nothing but his sin taking over.


(Nepotietl Kumo)

Each drop of blood that spilled from him was another step closer to death. The end was approaching - and in that dreary haze, the Dryad's memories flashed in the back of his mind...each encounter, each battle, and this was the end of it all. He was slumped down against the wraith as it tore apart those who dared align themselves with the undead.

Leland was the first; flames seared right through the vampire, turning him to dust.

Gwyneira was another caught in the chaos as the stone paw swiped through her, cleaving. Breaking.

More. More.

The creature, by its nature, was a spirit of war--a hunter of Ixchel. It did not know mercy.


The elder dryad smiled from atop of his tomb, a slight grin. This was the music he needed to put himself to a very long sleep.
(Sibri)


Yang Kumo Jr. says, "mOrE MoRe"
Slayder readied for the battle with the Chieftain. He was the leader of Cruxati, and even though he was a vampire, he treated them as his kin all the same. Before the battle would even start, he could feel the immense power of this creature, surging off its being as the intense heat his body generated during battle was nothing to this. He felt like he was in an oven of wrath, but still, he stepped forward with Leland as he drew his blade. Taking the formorian stance, he charged into the battle against the powerful wraith.

Slayder felt one giant wave of flames from the creature, the wave shattering any protection the Formorian stance or his crystal aura had to offer and almost knocking him off his feet, and burning him in multiple places as he was sent sliding back, but was resolve to stay on his feet. Trying to coordinate himself with the others, he attacked when he saw the most opportune to deal a good cut to the creature. This was the first battle Slayder felt a certain emotion, bloodlust.

He'd been feeding this creature for months, almost a year now, offering it sacrifices of his own blood. Now, it turned its hand to bite him and he was quite angry about that as well. Almost every time he charged in, though it may not have been as powerful as the creature's flames, he exploded with flames of his own, quite bright red and orange. This combined his magical and physical strength, although it still wasn't enough.

Tlazhotla would charge at him near full force, and he barely had any time to react. He tried to encase himself in stone and crystals as much as he possibly could, although Tlazhotla quickly powered through that with her own powers, sending Slayder flying back into the fortress wall, leaving a Slayder-shaped imprint in it as he was now rendered unconscious.
(Slayder)

The conflict was beyond him, thus far he recounted each battle thus far and none have ever lead to such bloody states. The screams and cries of pain, the shouts erupting from within the bellies of so many beast.

All to stand against the deity imbedded with no longer one, but three. . . Spire-shards.

Ignore it. . . Sound it out.

The taunting nature that came with being timid. His skill in battle was one thing, but his mentality. Was not yet ready for the choice he made here. And so he relied on only his instincts.

And the pack of Ixchel.

If only one thing would make sense to the boy right now, it was simply that this being did not fight without purpose. Without mercy, yes. Clear as blood spilled over the boy.

Frightened in heart as it came throbbing so much so it felt as if it was threatening to break through his chest.

But the beast was true to the deities whim. Only standing against those deemed a threat to Gehenna as a whole. Was this truth or mere farce? Whatever the case was, the wolf held true to his purpose. Looking away from each death as they came.

Forward. . . Forward. . .

Ixchel, guide me.
(Seshu)

Bel Gwyn drops Hair #5.

Bel Gwyn drops Orichalcum Amulet.

Daichi drops Mythril Sword.

Femi picks up Orichalcum Amulet.

Daichi drops Ebb.

Daichi drops Adamantite Amulet.

Daichi drops Whitefur Cape.

Daichi drops Mythril Legs.

Daichi drops Eyepatch.

Death.

 Death was all around them, and Hatsu found himself stumbling as he had been sent flying across the terrain. HE had pushed his cosmic abilities to their absolute limit, drenched in sweat as the strain of battle left him shaken not just physically, but mentally. He watched as Leland and Daichi was slaughtered before his very eyes, his mouth hanging agape as a muted out-cry failed to leave his mouth. The carnage taking place here was assuredly goin to stain the minds of any survivor, the massive beast of destruction preparing to eradicate the immediate area.

 His mana waned considerably as he desperately called upon the stars above to heed his call. He felt only brief surges of invigoration as he attempts to replenish his reserves, clutching at his chest as his eyes drift downward.

 The blue rose. The mark of his previous failure.

 He struggles to come to a stand as his gaze whirls toward Adeline, the youth clearly distraught as his body strains to withhold the surge of mana he was trying to store. He was pushing himself to his limits and beyond in this battle, and this had easily been the most dangerous exchange he had ever found himself in. Even the whole village versus this beast was unable to conquer it..

 He forces himself to stand up straight as his hands clench together, frost exuding from his immediate person as his vision swam. He had too much to live for, he wanted to do so many things.. Was it about to all end up abruptly here?

 He was scared, but that anger that he had felt residing within his chest was a stark reminder that he had to remain strong. He couldn't afford to seek pity when that was the very thing that upset him more than anything.

More than anything. He would not be looked down upon.
(Hatsu Wvelven)

Ariah Rowan whispers something.

Tristan Wess whispers something.

Fire scored the land and she tried to use her healing touch upon Nepo to the best of her ability. Her influence spread and touched as much as she could, but there was just no fighting this might as she finds herself slipping through the chaos and the crowds.

Don't look, right?

The destruction was more than apparent, and she would slam through to try and get closer, but it didn't matter. Her arms held upwards to defend her form, slamming her feet backwards against the waves of fire that blasted forward. The burns that ate at her skin would only empower her further.

"Nepo," she called the words out, a bit distressed as she stared forward. The scent of melting flesh, the darkness that made the adrenaline rush through as she looked through the crowd.

This.

Hah. Smoke leaves her lips as she finds her pupils dilating like a wild animal. "I--… Hatsu,"

A hand absentmindedly grabs in the smoke and debris, grabbing at the back of his shirt as she gives a pained sound outwards. "Can't leave him here to do that. We have to. Get. Nepo."

One died, did the other have to, too?
(Adeline Kumo)

Veritas picks up Ebb.

Veritas drops Ebb.

Seshu drops Mine Key.

Seshu picks up Mine Key.

Seshu drops Mine Key.

Hans picks up Whitefur Cape.

Hans picks up Mythril Sword.

Hans picks up Ebb.

More. More.

Eh. That spells out the story of his life, doesn't it?> Was it supposed to hold some meaning to it or just describe how it was? Life was cruel, they faced odd, but what they didn't do was not oppose what they thought was /wrong/ and that felt way better than whatever it was the spirit would ever feel. To t-hem, even living 18 years of meaningful life all led up to a moment where they were just killed in the background, randomly and not even really talked about.

Losers. Nobodies. That is what they were considered, weren't they? Ehe.

That's funny.

However, he can't laugh. For some reason the fuel pumping through him takes him through the battle, with each rake of his sword and movement made he further lowers the spirit's health, getting it so damn close to falling that he could taste it and what guided him? It wasn't some spirit that refused to accept change - even bad. That couldn't think, that only fought for somebody that thought of himself as the supreme ruler of Cruxati.

Did he even try in all those years he didn't exist? Did this place really have any life with him here and not Leland? It didn't, so it felt nothing, but right to fight this god like power that deemed them all unworthy for...

This land isn't Sibri's anymore. It isn't what it used to be, what Gehenna stood for now? It wasn't meant to be what he thought it should be. It wasn't meant to be so fucking stale, so stagnant, so god damn boring that nobody wanted to even live here let alone walk through here.

Leland made it work, Leland made the dream work, he slaved himself to feed those that wanted to be fed by him. He made it what it is, he brought these people here, he made them feel at home, he made waves across the continent, he made those to the west come over, he made those that were in the north vanish. He made the vampires and even dawn want his head in those time.

What did Sibri do for this generation?

Nothing.

His body is rocked back, his vision, blurry and thoughts scattered, it was more about this all, leading up to this, what did it mean? Why did it matter?

It didn't, none of them did. To people like Sibri, those strong people? They were background people that just did something bad! They deserved to die! Life is meaningless in the eyes of those with power and they call that corruption, because for somebody who was so adamant about spirits, he was far too corrupt in Daichi's eyes.

"Jujube-" his eyes wander, looking for her and before he knows it, he dies to the flames, occult powers and lashings of the spirit that wishes to defend - that wishes to hunt two people, but takes others in turn. He falls, he skids and he gets to see her for one last time, hand coming up to her cheek before what is left of him fades away into the next life.

His vision? Gone.
His dreams? Gone.
The rest of his life? Gone.
And for what? Doing what he wanted to? Defending somebody that believed in him, that took care of him, that strived to bring him up and make him something?

That was worth it. "-sorry."
The last words heard from his mouth as he lays lifeless in front of her, fallen in the background because the spirit wanted more, more. This is the life he got to live until the end, nothing more than a sad solider for Leland that died to something that could likely destroy a whole town on its own.
(Daichi)

It was unreal. Lyrian rolled away repeatedly to avoid getting caught in the crossfire of the tumultuous battle. The sight of the world as he knew it being sundered by the great Wraith that was supposed to be the guardian of their settlement... was something he would never forget. The quaking ground were not all that shook him to his physical core--something much, much more grotesque would foster in Lyrian today. After the umpteenth roll out of danger's way, Lyrian's blue eyes drift over to the square before he sees it.

Something that makes his eyes widen. His vision progresses in slow-motion, and the pictures go nearly still.

The blood coursing through him freezes, and his heartbeat stills.

A thundering sound erupts as the wraith Tlazhotla opens its maws to emit a massive wall of fire at the many combatants around it. The fallout is immeasurable, and the image he sees--of his father's last hour--simply reverberates and replays in his mind like ahaunting, broken record.

The great beast's flames roll out at Leland's crimson, floating vampiric figure, before sweeping him up in its entirety. The flames continue, and when they are gone, not even a shred of his father's figure is left.

Gone?

Lyrian's pupils constrict, and his blood comes to a complete halt. He wants to scream, but he chokes on his own voice. Losing all strength in his knees, the young boy collapses to his rear and leans back onto an arm, barely keeping himself afloat. This had to be a nightmare, right? He just had to open his eyes, right? This didn't happen right? "Father, hahahaha.... hah.... hahah.... no, this has to be fake.." the boy croaks out, barely squeezing out a sobbing voice. "Wh-"

Two trails of tears trickle from his eyes down his cheeks. Pinching his face into a rictus of horror and grief, the now-orphan boy clutches his chest painfully. There wasn't anything he could grasp onto. No carcass signifying the last of his father's presence. Even anything remotely close to a memento had been annihilated.

No nothing.

It was complete emptiness.

A part of Lyrian's heart seems to...crack off. A sense of loss, but he does not know what it is. A void, a holy in his chest that could never be filled.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screams, sobbing now. Keeling over, the boy gets on all four, slamming his hands into the ground.

He breathes hard onto the tiles, bringing his face down onto it. There's no comfort even when he seeks it, and there's no way for him to cope with having the entire sky come crumbling down on him. A part of him that would never be restored had just been shaved off of his soul.

Scratching his talons and claws against the ground, he trashes around for several minutes before simply...

...slumping over onto his face and front, arms down his sides. Unmoving, broken.

Lyrian's eyes cloud over and become grey, and he keeps mumbling something incomprehensive.
(Lyrain Lelhua)

Through endless streams of fire, the nagual hoped to survive. Survive long and thrive. She was destined to be the strongest, the nagual often chased that destiny when she wasn't resting so peacefully wherever she pleased. But, this seemed hopeless. So much so. This would be the nagual's greatest challenge. She intended to overcome the challenge. Like she had in the past, she'd over this one as well. She had to. To be the strongest. Quite this was destiny.

Hope seemed so... so far away after every wave of fire. So far away. Through every flame she cut through, she found no hope. Bits of her burning away every time. Every time. Every time. She was burning up. But she found this entertaining oddly. The most excitement she'd had in awhile. There'd be no feeling. They'd already declared her to die if she fled. Not that any soul on this continent could ever catch her. Quite. She prided herself to be the quickest in the west, south, east, and north.She'd spent her life running. And now she only found herself running in circled and cutting fires. Quite, this was destiny.

Fighting, after every charge, she lost a little more of herself. Her skin and flesh. Turned to ash as the nagual dashed through fires. Cut through fires. It didn't quite matter did it? It was her arm first. Than bits of her leg. She was losing her mobility and felt afraid that destiny was changing. Turning. Dastardly... How dastardly. The nagual was no longer in prime condition like she was in her youth. If it had not been for flames quickly burning away at wounds... she might have been bled out. But, once again, destiny was turning. Changing. Twisting and acting against her. She wouldn't last until the end of the fight. Quite, this was destiny.

Before her final charge... She tossed out her vials of Wick-Brand Nightshade out to the watching crowd and stars. Cowards. The like. Those who didn't seek to risk their life. Those who might have been so lucky to get away before their death. Those vials to land somewhere. Perhaps near someone. Perhaps never to be taken. Who knew, the Wick's interest. So constantly fading. Despite wanting this, her interest was leaving her. This battle was boring her. Death was... boring. A boring end. Quite, this was destiny.

Towards the end of the dance. A graceful dance of her blade against a beast, she charged. She tossed the poison as she found it that it wouldn't be needed wherever she might have been going. Her scarf though, it stayed. Until the very end. It had stayed with her longer than most of her friends. Those she considered such. Osira, Susanoo, Her siblings... like Elijah and John. It gave more guidance when it blew in the wind than any boss she had in the past. Tragedy, Lugonqi, or just really archon at that. She'd tighten the scarf "In my next life..." As if certain she'd be back... in some way, in some form. Unlikely...it didn't work like that. Did it? Quite, it was destiny.


The beginning of Wvelven Wick was... Uneventful.
The story of W Wick was... Uneventful.
The end of Wick was... Uneventful.

Quite, this was destiny. Wasn't it.

But, this small story had come to it's end.

(W Wick)

Tonantzin drops Poppylus x1.

Hans picks up Mythril Legs.

Hans picks up Adamantite Amulet.

Tonantzin picks up Poppylus.

"All my friends are dying.." He looked over the battlefield ax being held in both hands.

"It's all over...." All he could think about was his child.. The infant still to be given a name... Bleeding and coughing blood. The giant would raise one hand to wipe his bloody face. His head slowly turned and his eyes once again faded from its quicksilver to a glowing red.

Although through the fighting and the flames and sound of the earth crumbling before them nothing could be heard from him. His lips pressed together and spelled out words she could see.

Words so simple.. - But nothing anyone would want to hear.....

 " I love you ... Run.. "

All that was seen before a violent wave of flames separated addy from nepo as the fight started to roar once again.


(Nepotietl Kumo)

Hatsu Wvelven whispers: Adeline...!

You cannot gain more RPP today but you can continue to gain Activity Points for future checks. You currently do not qualify for an RPP reward in the upcoming check.

Femi picks up Allseer Cape.

Femi picks up Magic X.

Femi picks up Critical Acclaim.

Femi picks up Blue Long Shirt.

Femi picks up Orchilacum x3.

Smoke and flames. The enormous, no-longer-stone wraith looks around, with flames burning away in the sockets of its eyes; it inhales, no longer smelling thestench of undeath. The spirit of Ixchel had four spire shards embedded into its forehead, now, and they seemed more alive than ever...

Able to walk freely, to leave the stone shackles that once bound it.


Its giant black paws moved against the scorched tiles, as the great spirit headed toward a nearby fountain...And began to drink, taking in the water.
(Tlazhotla)

Sybil shifts her head from side to side, cracking her neck.
(Sybil Cladfier)

He was stunned into silence as he watches the massive wraith lumber forward - was it going to doom them all with its enraged eyes? He flinches heavily as the sweat-drenched youth was left wheezing with uncertainty, yet he stands his ground in defiance. Nepo's words leave him to look toward Adeline, attempting to grasp the back of her clothing to garner her own attention.

 If Nepotietl was truly going to attack the Wraith still, she couldn't afford to jump into the fray as well. Regardless, it was apparent that fighting a monstrosity that was powered through the usage of THREE spires shards was well beyond his capabilities, and it left him shaking as his reserves waned from being overloaded so heavily.
(Hatsu Wvelven)