Corban & Crystal vs. Lysander

by Demon Testicles Wed Jul 19, 2017 1:15 pm

When describing Corban, Titanic was most appropriate. He towered head and shoulders over most men and possessed a herculean physique. He held the appearance of a being carved from bedrock but also possessed the grace of the wind. He moved in a way that could easily be perceived as floating. His boots only gliding over the granite surface, not so much as scraping. Even if not for the roar of the crowd, He was virtually silent.

Being the first to enter the arena, He looked up at the stands and gave a friendly wave. His free right hand swayed back and forth while he pivot to make sure everyone knew he was acknowledging them. Having already suited up off stage, he appeared fully equipped with plated armor. The suit appeared irregular and thorny; barbs appeared to protrude from the surfaces of the armor. The armor on the left side of his body appeared larger. This was due to extra fortifications where extra padding was present. It held a feral appearance which could be described as a cross between an insect an a far-eastern samurai. The helmet was in the likeness of some form of canine. it's features soft and calm thorns protrude from the cheeks and the jointed backside.

Fixed to his left arm was a large, oblong construct. It could be easily identified as a slender tower shield. The surface featured a swooping design. Groves ran along the surface and banked down to the foot. It appeared warped and lopsided like plastic left in the heat for too long.

His right hand appeared vacant. Fingers limber and lose within a rather intimidating looking gauntlet (which itself could pass as a weapon). After stepping a few feet into the polished flagstone ground, he stopped. Corban just had to wait for his partner to emerge before joining the fight.

by Crystal Night Wed Jul 19, 2017 2:50 pm

Quite adamant to get this bout of sorts over and done with, Crystal made haste to to step into their chosen battleground. Her footfalls were ever so light upon the terrain and complimented her slender frame that cut through the air in a graceful and confident stride. Her height could only be described as average as she only stood at a moderate five feet and seven inches.

The clothing that she opted to clad herself in was on the lighter side and dominantly white, sporting formfitting forearm guards of a golden sheen and short shoulder pauldrons of the same hue that contoured with the curvature of them. The white fabric upon her torso appeared to be a mixture of a sleeveless shirt and jacket that flowed into a set of four tails from waist-level and concealed a formidable layer of black leather beneath. Her lower garments were enchanted, black leggings that were donned with silver poleyns and grieves with golden trim.

Clasped in her right hand was a lengthened, decorated spear that donned the same color scheme and measured out to an even eight feet that appeared to balance perfectly betwixt her fingers as she flourished the armament for show to please the deafeningly boisterous crowd.

It was then that she acknowledged her partner with a single nod and a mild glare from the choice of attire. Nonetheless, there was no time for a scolding and, as she halted her flourishing and clasped her weapon diagonally skyward across her back, she took her position beside her towering comrade and waited for their adversary.

by Lord of Flesh Wed Jul 19, 2017 6:18 pm

I. Introduction to Darkness

The sun never rose here, in the deepest parts of the abyss. What little light one could find, was created from the ever-burning furnaces through which souls poured consistently. One after the other, they burned to fuel the great machine. Its thunderous roars blanketing the pale, derelict faces of those with the misfortune of retaining their physical forms. The screams of torment drowned out the whimpers of the despaired. Disparaged and at a complete loss for hope, they sought only the refuge of the light – but they would not find it in this desolate wasteland. Some sought it out, sought out the hope of forgiveness and the divine – but it never came. Their torment was unending, their jailers unwavering in their duties.

Twisted, tormented faces looked to the sky and they screamed out for salvation, but they found none. There was no forgiveness here, no end to the suffering that plagued them all. It was the absolute darkness, the opposite of divinity they were cast into. Some called this place perdition, but the most common name for it was simply Hell. That reversed triangle, with the smallest point of the pit, known as Cocytus, at the bottom. The frozen lake teemed with the souls of betrayers. Chained giants watched over them with constant, rapt attention. Above them, the furnace of souls grew hot – but that heat did little to thaw the ice – in fact, it seemed only to reinforce it.

But the screams? Well, they permeated the air with such intense ferocity that it was almost inhuman. All along that icy path, though, stood demons large and small. They encircled it, paying homage to the greatest of them, frozen at the center of the pit entombed entirely in a crystalline encasement. Awaiting the day the horsemen rose, awaiting the day apocalypse visited the doorsteps of humanity. In many mythologies, a like creature existed – but this one was the absolute. A gargantuan creature, towering over even the monolithic giants chained to vast, obsidian colonnades rising until they extended into the eight circle above. Lucifer was a formidable looking thing, indeed, but his power paled in comparison to the thing entombed at his feet.
Ice covered him from head to toe, unbreakable and unwavering in its resolve to contain him. His name was spoken throughout, either with reverence of regret – but he was the darkest of all beings. Lucifer, who betrayed his creator, would tremble in fear at the knowledge of what he’d done. Yet, that knowledge would never be shared – never be spoken of throughout all the annals of time, no matter the plane upon which it flowed.

As he stood there, covered in ice and frozen in time, already whispers of his name resumed. It was almost time for release, time to begin the final countdown to the demise of everything they’d known. That was his purpose. That was his desire. Once freed, his path lay before him – prepare the world for the biblical apocalypse. His destiny lay before him like a tapestry woven from the finest of materials, and yet none knew for sure what he was, or what he could do. They only knew what must be done.

It was almost time. Release was so close that even he, frozen as he was, could taste the freedom on the tip of his tongue.

II. Freedom comes at a cost

Abaddon spent that morning much as he had many others before it, which is to say engrossed in the sweet sensations of torture. Not receiving it, of course, but giving. He flayed open flesh and ripped asunder bone with an almost whimsical way about him, clearly enjoying every minute of his task. And yet, something still seemed…off. It was a sensation in the air, as if his job simply wasn’t complete – no matter the amount of souls he prepared for the fires.

It wasn’t long until worship, though, and when that time came he made his way down through the pit, until he reached the outer ring around Cocytus with everyone else. They stood at attention, their heads bowed, before dropping to one knee. Their words were spoken in Enochian, a language long lost to the humans outside of their realm. They spoke of loyalty, of giving their final “breath” to the service of their dark master, yet Abaddon said not a word.

As the others bowed and spoke, his eyes shifted to the figure sitting at the base of his father’s crystalline stature. The thoughts in his head were ones he felt before, questions of what this man was – what is goal was. He longed only to touch him, to run his fingers along the smooth nature of the ice surrounding him – but he’d never had the gall to really try – to move across the room and break the ring of giants. They were there as a safeguard, to stop anyone or anything from gaining admittance. Yet, today they seemed lax – almost benign in nature. Why he’d ever trembled in fear of them, he was unsure.

Almost without realizing it, he broke ranks from his brethren and began to walk toward the statuesque figures at the center. His footfalls resounded, almost a thunderous roar with each step. His eyes shifted only for a moment, to watch as one of the giants looked down at him – a malicious smile splitting open its visage. And then, it looked away – as if unconcerned with the demon walking into the forbidden area it was meant to guard.

Without a word, he continued – though audible gasps of shock and whimpers of fear tore through the gathered crowd behind him. Some thought to stop him, but none made a movement toward him. His eyes returned to their original point, watching as he drew closer to the figure at the base of the Satan. Finally, within arm’s reach, he let a single finger touch upon the forehead of the figure. Suddenly, a spark of light emitted from the touch – and it traveled along the ice.

Cocytus immediately began to shake, rumbling beneath the darkened surface. The ice surrounding Abaddon immediately broke, exploding outward. Finally, the source of light dimmed – and before the demons, at the base of Satan himself, stood a foreboding sight, a figure of immense beauty. A lithe frame that belied a strength far and beyond what most would think capable. Shock and screams of utter terror resonated from the demons assembled.

He stepped down, his feet touching the icy surface and his face a scant inch or so from the Knight of Hell. Tilting his head, his eyes locked with the others and his smile didn’t touch his eyes.

“Hello, brother. I must thank you for awakening me from my long slumber, though if you have done so, then there is little time left. Preparations must be made; the time is coming. We only have a few centuries, but even then, there might not be enough time.”

His eyes closed, and his head tilted back as he absorbed the negative energy flowing through hell. Already his power overreached the others surrounding him, and by the time he manifested a living form on the physical plane, even Satan would pale in comparison. Yes, his job was a simple one – to prepare the world, to unleash the horseman. But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun along the way.

III. Welcome the Darkness

The Knight of Hell rose, quickly carrying himself from the depths of Cocytus to the topmost circle of his domain. Before long, he broke free from even that – throwing himself high above Golgotha and looking down upon the world he meant to destroy. Floating high above the ground, he could see for literal miles around him – and he found only desolation. This world, though meant for one apocalypse, brought upon itself another. Immediately the sense of purpose borne within him was lost, broken and cast aside. Immediately, he found himself barren of destiny’s pull. What would he do, then, with his awakening if not begin the destruction of the Earth?

Simple, the call for apocalypse meant the end of all things under the realm of God, and since that realm included all of creation – he would simply find another world to prepare. Already his mind cast out, scanning the multitude of living worlds, permeating throughout galaxies and realms. Many of them held life, but scant few would suit his purposes and his needs.

A Knight, after all, was meant to fight. And so many worlds abhorred violence, that it would be all but asinine to take himself there. That meant only a few were even contenders, and only one of those was teeming with combatants he found enticing. As soon as his mind sat upon it, his body transported there. Before him stood two individuals, an apparent team focused entirely on aiding one another in the arena. All around people screamed and cheered, despite his sudden appearance. So, he realized, magic wasn’t unknown to them.

Good, it would make his task that much easier.

His hand clasped around the hilt of a sword, far larger than any average person would wish to wield, though not so disgustingly large as to be unwieldy. In that one hand, a buster sword of adequate size shifted until the tip bit into the ground. The people in the stands jeered him, taunted him – but their silence came quickly.

A wave of his left hand, and the shadows of their own bodies pulsated, quivered. They revolted against their masters, and with one shift of his index finger each shadow snapped the neck of a member in the audience, until the only sound left were the death rattles of hundreds. The shadows, however, did not cease to exist – nor did they return complacently to their original position. Instead, they swarmed the arena field, conglomerating at the base of the sword, whose name was Caldecise. They flowed through the ground, into the blade itself, and then through that into the fallen angel’s body.

“Salutations, friends. My name, though unimportant, is Albert – at least as far as you’ll need to know, though I have many names, and many faces. Perhaps, if there’s time, I’ll come with you to the afterlife and allow you to see and know them all. Perhaps. However, I do think that – given this new body, and these new strengths, I would much like to test myself. Are you keen to die, young ones?”

His words flowed on flowery waves, almost as if a lullaby, or a lament to the dying or soon-to-die. Lifting the sword, he lay the unsharpened back edge along his shoulders, and once more that menacing, soulless smile parted his lips.

“Shall we dance?”

by Demon Testicles Thu Jul 20, 2017 9:50 am

Crystal standing next to him only further exaggerated his stature. He noticed the contempt she held for his choice of attire and this was met with little more than a mirthful gaze. His bright blue eyes didn't remain on her for long for their foe had arrived right in front of them. Vigilant Corban watched every motion that he exhibited. The curious hand gesture had Corban tilting his head with bewilderment; was this some form of inter-demensional greeting?

The result of this 'cantrip' appeared to slay the entirety of the spectating bodies. In all of his experience, Corban had never experienced cataclysm of this extent. He spent a moment in denial where his mind simply halted. The bright expression of wonder and curiosity transitioned to astonishment. He probably could have stood there all day if the other man simply left or stood there in stupor like Corban was.

Albert speaking shunted something within Corban's brain. His body radiated brilliance as inner potential was unlocked. A pale silver silhouette shimmered across his body. – that which it had unlocked was not yet apparent. Corban had taken off, breaking ranks from Crystal in an emotionally driven charge towards the man with the giant sword. – Such a gargantuan weapon, it originally took precedence over what else he might have been wearing. Now that Corban was fixated on him, he'd easily be able to discern what else appeared before him.

His shield was chambered and over the brim of it's head was Corban's helm. The Calm canine image was contradicted by the fury of his eyes now dilated with rage. The target of his charge was Albert, He sought to rapidly Close the distance between them. His speed wasn't preternatural in itself, but quite extraordinary for somebody as armor clad as himself.

by Crystal Night Thu Jul 20, 2017 10:29 am

Even though she occupied this space with her comrade and student, she still felt tinges of boredom threatening to overtake her, which would have been troublesome since it would affect her technique and mindset. It'd be in her best interest to remedy this expeditiously, especially when their adversary chose to expose himself.

With the raise of their foe's hand, she too pondered if the peculiar being had the civility to greet them without immediate hostility. It appeared not as there was some factor that made her feel foreboding sense of danger surrounding their position--malevolent purpose ever so growing in the cacophonous audience that were silenced more rapidly than anything she had witnessed in her vast lifetime.

Crystal knew what had occurred as she possessed the techniques to accomplish similar. However, what she didn't have knowledge of was why someone would do such a thing? What was the purpose of his actions? To instill fear? To fuel his own ego? "I should have had more tea before this..." It was all she could mutter before Corban opted to charge seemingly mindlessly. "Hey! Snap out it!"

With a groan of distaste, she simultaneously pressed off her right foot and propelled herself after her comrade with abnormal grace and speed, chambering her spear at her right side with her left hand extended forward as if it served as a guide for her spear's tip. Eyes of stoicism bored into their adversary in contrast to the fury that exuded from Corban due to Albert's questionable display.

They needed to steel themselves, to coordinate, and to be cautious, but it would all be for naught if she didn't accomplish calming her ally.

by Lord of Flesh Thu Jul 20, 2017 5:49 pm

IV. Dark Incarnate

Standing there, eyes on the others, he found himself wondering what the point was – he came expecting some type of greeting, some wonderment of who he was and why he existed. Yet, he found none of that. Instead, he was forced to silence the screaming, taunting jeers of hundreds – only to be rushed by a man in armor. A man who just watched him wipe out an untold amount of innocent lives. It was foolhardy to say the least, the man just lost control of himself – as many lesser creatures would in such a scenario, he supposed. Still, it was quite awkward for him. But, who was he to judge the happenings of children? He simply watched the man begin to draw closer, along with his seeming subordinate. Though, he noticed the hesitation in her movements.

Silently, he lifted his left hand a second time, placing his index and thumb together. Perhaps this would give pause to the man’s foolish rush, perhaps it wouldn’t. He didn’t know, but it didn’t matter – regardless of that his fingers would slide along one another, and the snap sound they created reverberated through the arena. Of course, it appeared to do nothing – but that was the point, wasn’t it? To appear to do nothing. What good would illusions be, if they were so easily revealed in that single moment.

Instead, the sound was designed to draw attention to his body – which moved not at all, as far as they could see. In fact, he’d already repositioned himself across the arena from them. Where they rushed toward him, he simply melded into the shadows and found himself standing where they originally had – which was to say, their positions simply changed. Of course, they couldn’t realize it by sight alone. For all they knew, the naked man with the giant sword and the predisposition for wanton murder was still standing in front of them.

By the time the foolhardy gladiator lashed out with an assault against him, he’d already be gone – and the man would simply find whatever his choice of weapon to be swiping through the empty air in front of him. Meanwhile, he shifted his sword around and let the tip begin to scratch along the ground, an insanely intricate, enochian symbol forming on the dirt-covered ground. His eyes never left the couple though, he didn’t need to see to write the symbol.

V. Summoning the Dark

The ground quivered when the symbol finished, and by now they’d have discovered the ruse that was his after-image. A brilliant light bore upwards through the ground, widening around him in a circle. His energy poured into it, constantly flowing through a connector line between his damaged soul and the rune-like magic being fed into the ground. All around the enochian a barrier erected, pushing even him from its protective area. Exposed as he was, both figuratively and literally, he shifted his sword so that tip pointed directly toward the other two.

“Now, while we wait a bit for my soul to feed the magic and everything to finish, I suppose you could entertain me with a bit of fighting, aye?”

Almost immediately as he said the words, those two were under attack. Not by his physical body, for he still didn’t move from his newfound position. Instead, their own shadows lashed out, running up their legs and attempting to entrap them with their newly-physical bodies. His smile widened, and he simply waited for the retaliation they sought to bring against him. If they became entrapped, well…that just made this whole thing that much easier for him.

Especially since he was already beginning to prepare another assault, all the while his soul fed the magic of the circle – continuing to open something quite far and beyond the average they would be expectant of, he was sure. His sword dropped, tip stuck to the ground and his body leaned forward on it, almost appearing to be completely relaxed.

by Demon Testicles Fri Jul 21, 2017 10:06 am

Corban's short term memory was well practiced. When in combat, Short term memory of actions not long passed as well as improvisation were key to adapting to any situation. That was why Corban stopped running when the figure had snapped his fingers. Corban associated magic to the snapping of the naked humanoid's snapping. What cantrip or spell was he to face next? He possessed enough grace to stop himself nearly instantly. Leaning back, he'd plant the balls of his feet before bending his knees to absorb the velocity he built up.

When Corban activated motes of essence from his personal reservoir, his physical entity released light. It was one of the only tells that alerted to him activating charms. Corban's shadow had already melted away prior to the attempt at enchanting it. He flashed a again. Like a surge of photons erupted from his surface before settling at a constant glow – that potential was now applied. It provided Corban with a celestial appearance. Until his will faded, he would remain as bright a full moon.

It was the scraping of the sword that hinted Corban off to the fact that this manifestation was disingenuous. His head immediately turned to face the origin of the buster sword scraping the ground. As another burst of photons created a brief pale glare, Corban took measures now that he'd be able to see through what ever trickery this sorcerer would be able to evoke.

This time, Corban didn't take off, but attacked. The ground was shaken and massive sonic waves blasted from his position. There was a flash of light, but this wasn't near as prominent as the sonic boom he had created. However, something faster than those waves of sound would reach his intended target – Albert – first. From his now outstretched right arm to the naked humanoid while his projectile appeared as little more than a silver beam from Corban's right palm to Albert's position.

The projectile in nature was a twelve foot long pole. Something that tapered at the end and rifled through the air. This 'spear' was aimed directly for the center of the being's position. Th hastened attack was intended to disrupt the figure's monologue.

by Crystal Night Fri Jul 21, 2017 10:57 am

They were fortunate that their adversary made snapping gestures before the execution of an offense or else she was certain that Corban's rage would have still had a hold. Similar thoughts ran throughout her mind as well, assuming that their opponent must have been preparing for something due to the previous gesture he made before the entirety of the arena's crowd became deceased. Thus, she too slowed her approach and came to a full-stop, crouching and extending her right foot to the forefront for added friction where her advance could be nearly instantaneously discontinued to have her beside her comrade.

It was then that her irises took on a dull gray illumination that soon outlined her person, swaying the loose locks of her hair and portions of her clothing with its brilliant luminescence. Sacrificing motes from her personal pool of essence, she shaped them overhead with a lethargic gesture of her left index and forefinger to manifest an even set of six transparent throwing knives that took on the same hue as her outlined aura.

With the illumination that she radiated, her shadow had dissolved away and that illumination only increased in luster to a point that her brightness was equivalent to the Sun itself and gifted her with the faux exterior of an ethereal goddess. As her aura glimmered alongside with Corban's, the nonexistence of the crowd was fortuitous or else they would have suffered from a permanent loss of sight. Crystal's own sight saw true, tinges of essence confirming the fraudulence of the being that stood before them and alerting her to their foe's translocation as that blade of his screeched against the terrain.

Locking her sight on the true being, her extended left index and forefinger rose skyward to prime the projectiles she configured before she gestured toward her opponent. In pulsations of light and energetic disruptions of wind that released violent shock waves throughout the battlegrounds, those projectiles streaked toward Albert's position akin to homing missiles.

Their intent was to converge on his position on the adjacent sides of the pole that Corban had released and/or shift direction should he shift from his location; the ground buckling beneath the pressure of each launch to the point that cracks began to appear beneath her feet. Despite the transparency of the projectiles, they served the same purpose as a regular knife and that was to impale.

However, there was a second purpose that involved the very essence that they were created from. That purpose was to detonate on contact with the sighted target in an explosion of malevolent heat, vigorous concussive force, and blinding white. Granted, she possessed the speed to confront the being at close range, with the translocation that she witnessed, she thought it'd be best to pin and bombard before they could move in, otherwise they would waste efforts of chasing the other if he continuously phased throughout the arena.

by Lord of Flesh Sat Jul 22, 2017 12:29 am

VI. Darkness Blinding Light.

He watched patiently as they finally came to a halt, only partially fooled by the ruse, it seemed. It was good that the big one could reign in his anger so quickly, otherwise it would be a formidable weapon to add to Albert’s arsenal. However, the blindingly bright light they both exuded in a near-instant was quite unexpected, and a formidable defense from the shadows that sought to entrap them both. Luckily, his own instincts and reactions were equally as quick. For a second his hand lifted, shielding his eyes from the gaze – while the shadows of his internal organs steeled themselves, and became malleable to his will. Which meant, of course, that they could continue to exist even with that insane amount of light bearing down on them.

Those shadows traveled along his body, until they formed a perfect rim around his eyes – closing on themselves and blocking out much of the light they emitted. Of course, his vision wasn’t perfect like this – but it was a quick defense, and it was steadily growing better with time. It was, about this time, that the big one stomped his foot like a petulant child – though the resultant shockwave was anything but childish. The sounds hurt him not at all, but the propellant force could have staggered him if not for his steadied position holding the blade which dug into the ground. Moments before that, though, a solid beam of what could only be assumed was an energy projectile slammed into the side of the blade.

It shattered upon impact, shards of energy blasting off the blade only to be purified by the barrier around the rune and sucked into it, feeding its energy into the magic it manifested as much as his own soul did. Around that same time, his shadow reacted with alarming speed – and seeming sentience of its own. Lashing out with its hands, it unfolded from the ground behind him and split into tendrils that easily knocked the thrown knives away. The explosion probably still came, but even if it had Albert wouldn’t have noticed.

See, his shadow was already morphing – turning into something other than natural. It took on physical properties, and even as it touched the blades it became an amorphous blob with nearly the same proportions as his own structure. Tendrils of it whipped back and forth through the air, snake-like but seemingly without cause of reason. The explosion, if it came, was entombed behind the Shadow Well, held in place and blocked from ever really touching his physical form. All the while, his soul continued to feed energy into the Enochian symbol for Summoning, and it was only moments away from reaching its full, true potential. Soon, whatever hid behind that veil would rise. And when it did, well, all hell would break loose upon them.

by Demon Testicles Sat Jul 22, 2017 10:03 am

Corban's frenzy had never subsided. It simply evolved. No longer was his heart livid with the rage of watching hundreds of lives fall victim to one simple gesture, but a sense of resolve. A step down from overwhelming, this raw emotional state broke from his typically conservative mold. His actions were aggressive and almost more so than Crystal's. His determination blazed greater than the unconquered sun.

He rationalized that a being like this had no place in a world of the meek. It was up to him and crystal to ensure that it never saw the light of the unconquered sun unless moderated by his companion and mentor, Crystal. Not only killing it, but sending it back into the miserable pit from whence it came.

The spear that he had thrown was attuned to Corban. A moonsilver artifact that was destined for Corban alone. Much like King Arthur's sword, only Corban had the ability to wield it. All which tried to accommodate it – without Corban's touch – would find this core enchantment challenging them. It took thrice the maximum strength of what ever happened to touch it at the time to so much as support it.

It was especially effective against substance which possessed some form of an ego. Be it matter derived from or manipulated by magic. The preternatural transition to tangible force was probably the best case for Corban's attack, meaning that the spear would have no ease overwhelming the magical defense and impaling his quarry, providing that the naked man fortified himself rather than relocated.

The spear would collide with the sword, but with amplified force. Considering that the metal itself wasn't a summon, the force of the spear would be dispersed against it. Considering how fast it was moving, this was comparable to being struck by a much more massive item. Blocking this attack would take much endurance and most likely stagger, if not completely displace Albert from his position.

Corban had no intention of remaining stationary, He charged forward once again with extraordinary grace. His legs thrust him forward across the flagstone. He was leading the charge against this writhing mass of shadow. Much like any traditional sentinel would for their striker companion.

Something Crystal should notice about her teammate was that his armor was morphing. The grain constituting the thorny, inhabitable backside unraveled quickly. They melt away save for two bony growths which resembled foot sized pedestals.

by Crystal Night Sat Jul 22, 2017 2:07 pm

Their foe was proving to be troublesome and, while Corban appeared to be giving it his all with 100% of his power and abilities, Crystal was holding back to assess the strengths and weaknesses of this particular entity. Such discord, malevolence and chaos couldn't be allowed to roam freely. However, as their attacks were shattered an casually batted away, she assumed that their foe wouldn't be vanquished by conventional means.

With a firm step forward, her glowing form pulsated and her irises took on a newfound sheen while a perfect, golden-yellow circle illuminated at the center of her forehead. A portion of the knives that were batted away did detonate, but those that survived corrected themselves in order to home in on their target once more. “Ye who desecrate this land in vast defilement and hatred, heed thy advent!"

In a violent shockwave, the very terrain arose around her being before the grounds beneath her elevated as well. “By the will of the Unconquered Sun, ye shall be vanquished and the rays of just shall descend unhindered!” With that declaration, the armored pieces that she donned glimmered and her spear took on a newfound sheen of golden-yellow that seemed to concentrate upon the spear's blade itself. The tails of her jacket levitated and, combined with the illumination of her being, it had a similar appearance to a peacock's flared tail.

Stepping off her right foot, she streaked toward Corban in a blur of gold with her spear chambered at her right side, somersaulting forward as she neared his position before she touched down upon her comrade's back. Flourishing her spear overhead as Corban chose to charge, that concentration of light upon her spear intensified, exuding distorting ripples of heat that trailed after her armaments movements.

It was then that she pronated her left arm and supinated her right, pushing her left arm skyward where the tip of her spear would face diagonally earthbound. Soon after, she thrust her right arm forward while retracting her left to guide her weapon into a graceful, skyward arc that trailed that intensified illumination and released it a deadly crescent that cleaved its way across the terrain and toward their adversary.

Leaving molten rock and flame in its wake, Crystal guided her weapon overhead in another flourish before she curved it downward to be held at her right side in a dual-handed grip; the weapon's tip facing behind her, but primed for another assault if necessary.

by Lord of Flesh Sat Jul 22, 2017 2:59 pm

VII. Envoy of the End; The Darkness Takes All

Albert’s laughter was the loudest sound, even louder than the constant hum of energy being poured through him like a conduit. The soul-energy was finished, its power was a constant thrum in the background. Once finished, Albert was no longer needed – he was no longer required as an envoy of the end, and yet his body did not disperse. The Knight of Hell remained, but it mattered little. His standing position, as much as the coming charge and assaults of his adversaries mattered little. Immediately the world seemed to explode around them, the charge of an explosion without deadly intent shoving them all backward – blowing their assaults out of probability. The knives exploded when met with the explosion from within the barrier, breaking it open. The crescent wave of energy disappeared as the barrier exploded outward, as the rune exploded with its might.

Nothing remained save for those three, and the dust that clouded all possibility of vision. The entire arena rumbled and shook, and Albert lifted himself slowly, coming to his hands and knees, letting his right arm reach out and wrap around the hilt of his blade. Pulling it toward him, he used it to pull his broken, bloodied body from the ground. His leg hung limp, as did his left arm. Yet, he seemed to be unhindered by this – as if he felt nothing in the way of pain. And in truth, he didn’t. His laughter was the only sound now, the violent hum and thrum of energy passing through him gone. The sound of the explosion and the ringing of ears gone.

All that remained was his laughter, and the sound of something scraping along the ground. The sound of something breaking open the dirt, clawing its way out. As the dust settled, they would soon find the source of it – and even Albert was surprised. He knew little of what he had done, what his endgame was in drawing the enochian symbols on the ground, in channeling the very nature of his soul into it. He had no knowledge of what was happening, but he knew it was what he was meant to do. It was why he was alive, what he was created to do – to be the envoy of the end. A tool of chaos and destruction.

As their vision began to return, the three in the arena could see a grandiose doorway, a hundred feet high and fifty feet wide. A hundred thousand symbols and carvings lay all around it, engraved in the very stone of it – which seemed to be so much more ancient than any living entity could hope to comprehend. The language of Enoch slated above it, scrawled in a hasty hand. Only Albert could read it, but his laughter stopped and the menacing sound of an emotionless voice filled the arena.
“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

With those words spoken, the great doors burst inward, and beyond it lay the blackened expanse of nothingness. A hundred million miles of nothing, but the sounds of screams and pain and torment and torture flooded out from within, almost bloodcurdling. Yet, beyond that were snarls and hisses. Beyond those lay war cries, and from the door came a thousand demons – swirling around one another in blackened masses and red-streaked battalions. They swirled high into the sky, becoming of a torrent of destruction.

And then it began to rain. The rain of death, all of them focused on the arena – they cared little what they destroyed. Destruction was their only purpose. Half of them split off, pouring away from destroying the warriors who sought to stop their progression. They slammed into the body of Albert, and his wounds began to heal themselves – and his power bolstered beyond imagination. The sword exploded, turning to dust under the pressure of the assault.

The Knight of Hell smiled, and turned his attention back toward the doorway. A large boulder was coming forward, and as it drew closer it began to appear to be something more than any could have noticed. It slammed into the ground in front of the doorway, and it shut immediately behind it. Albert disappeared, before he showed himself once more – standing high and proud atop the forty-foot-tall “boulder”, which inside contained the very bottom of hell itself. An egg which contained Cocytus itself, prepared to hatch in time.

If the others survived the demonic swarm, which with as much power that stood behind it was unlikely, they would come face to face with an Albert glowing a bright, bioluminescent green. The power that flowed through him, now, was fueled by the cataclysm itself – the end of all things had come, and even God himself could not stop what was happening.

by Demon Testicles Sat Jul 22, 2017 4:33 pm

It appeared that Corban's rage was not only noticed by the prince of hell, but somebody far greater than all three of them. An ego that in compasison, rendered this world they fought over as little more than a grid, and these warriors little more than bishop, knight, and rook. In an instant, Corban's mind was overwhelmed with a vision. A life time of strife, destruction, and resolve seared behind his eyes. A celestial fire was stoked within his soul. Overwhelmed with stimulus no mortal mind had any business experiencing, His mortal flesh had begun to burn.

At that very instant, Corban the half-caste was consumed and overwhelmed by the essence of Luna.

That blaze consumed his mortal aspect in a pale nova which bathed the entire arena with the glare of the full moon. Light that for that very moment seemed to rival that of the unconquered sun. When the flash subsided, what appeared to be a completely different figure had taken Corban's place.

No longer encased in a heavy set of grotesque bone armor, A herculean body now took his place. It's ebony skin was enveloped in a pale silver glow, much like a halo. Shining from behind almond shaped eyelids was a vivid silver glare. What would otherwise be soft, boyish features were twisted into a ferocious snarl.

What possessed Corban appeared unphased by the gate to hell that had been summoned before them. If there was any sort of reaction from that macabre passage it simply goaded more fervor for the battle to come.

There was a preternatural fluidity to the way that he moved now. With no real tell, a charm was activated by the forces which had chose Corban as their earthly vessel. Yet another had been activated Now that demons rained down from the sky, It was nothing more than running through the herd. Corban's form Once again was reduced to a beam. From where he and crystal stood, to that which plopped out from hell itself, Corban There was a translucent glow connecting the two locations

There was a single moment where Corban stopped before the massive 'egg'. It was one of few moments where conventional vision could track him after the possession. His ebon form featured bony plates around the arms and legs, but nowhere else, he was now as naked as Albert.

by Crystal Night Sat Jul 22, 2017 5:21 pm

Completely unexpected... it was all that ran through her mind as she witnessed a familiar blinding aura that radiated from her comrade—an aura that was perhaps too familiar. Somersaulting backwards from Corban's back, she stared in awe as her half-caste student underwent a significant transformation into what she had become long ago.

An unrivaled raise of power, a physique that would force a God to seethe with envy, and the enveloped essence. There was no doubting that he was a warrior whom she no longer had to teach.

Their past trials and tribulations, their adventures, their training sessions, their encounters—every single thing lead to this point and she couldn't be any more proud. But that pride would have to be short-lived.

As the very gates of hell themselves manifested before them, Crystal stood unperturbed by the chain of events with the empty golden ring upon her forehead still burning brightly along with her shimmering aura. However, that aura seemed to dwindle into a sheen and her eyes shifted to a close as she exhaled a deepened breath. “I guess we're all stepping up.”

Releasing her left hand from her weapon, she grasped it firmly at her right with its pole diagonally skyward against her back; her ears catching sound of the cacophonous cries of the flooding demons from the gate. Clutching her fingers tightly around her spear, she enveloped her armament in a silver light that caused the weapon to disperse, but in its dispersal, she activated a charm.

Crackles akin to shattering glass sounded as shards ascended around her position to bombard the foes that dared to enter her proximity as she made her advance with a single step that reduced her to a mere rainbow of a streak...treading light. All the while she advanced, her features held a glare of distaste that was intended toward both the enemy as well as the image of someone who's training she never thought she would utilize, which began to take form as golden-yellow auras upon her hands.

While Corban appeared to be contending with the egg itself, it was in that same moment that she halted herself behind the luminescent Albert albeit lethargically with her left palm chambered at her left side to thrust forward toward the terrain itself at his feet in an effort to shatter it with a concussive wave where she could disrupt his balance.

Intending to follow through, her right palm advanced afterward to release another concussive wave toward Albert himself. Somewhat keeping her distance, she was still cautious of the happenings of this battle and was a tad wary of the possibility that their foe was trying to separate them.

Nonetheless, a golden-yellow halo manifested around each of her wrists, whirring and revolving whilst discharging subtle sparks of white.

by Lord of Flesh Mon Jul 24, 2017 1:36 pm

VIII. Something Lurks Behind the Veil

Albert was what they called a super-dimensional being, though few knew of the name it was one that held specific regard with him – as it meant several things that were readily handy to know. What it meant, for him, anyway – was that his body existed in every iteration of the Multiverse, in every possibility of existence, at the same time. That much was, however, true for everyone. What made him special, what made him intricately different, is that he knew it. He knew it, he embraced it, and he used it. Each version of himself knew, they could feel one another across the vast emptiness of space and the expanse of the void between worlds. Each had their own names, their own specialties. Albert’s, being a Knight of Hell, was summoning – using arcane arts that were once thought dead to pull creatures from the darkness and into the light.

Such a thing they’d already witnessed, with the egg of Cocytus laying beneath his feet. The others knew nothing of the evil that lay inside, and in truth even Albert was unsure what to expect once this thing hatched and the demons within lashed outward in their fury. Meanwhile, those two streaked through the battlefield like literal light, leaving only beams for the naked eye to follow – so it was a good thing that his eyes were the only thing about him not naked. He watched their quick advances, though he lost track of Crystal when she moved behind him. Still, though, they destroyed the demons with relative ease – but that as, after all, intended. These were lower-level demons, whose blood was nothing more than acid.

Each explosion of dying bodies spilled their acidic nature all around them, like the explosion of a bomb. For Albert, who was one of them, immunity was a given – but the ground, the arena, perhaps even his two would-be competitors? The first two he could tell were suffering, the ground bubbled and popped, cankerous boils forming before exploding open and spilling Earthen pus all upon the ground around them, which only continued the chain reaction they’d began in killing the first demon; for that pus, too, was acidic.

So, Corbin stood before him – and Albert had to admit his body was impressive. The man made up for what he lacked in brains with pure brawn, but that was rarely ever enough. For his part, Albert just locked eyes with him, his face barren of emotion – and his head canting to the side. He spoke no words, though he was about to when he felt the presence of energy forming behind him. The exact nature, and what it was intended to do, he didn’t know. At least not until she fired the second concussive wave – which rocketed toward him.

He steeled himself upon the egg, his shadow anchoring him – holding him in place against the mighty blow. His hair shifted, but for nothing else he did not move. Anchored such as he was, the breeze cast forth by her energy meant little to him – though it was cooling for this hot day. The first concussive blow, however, had a far less than intended effect. The egg absorbed the energy in it, pulled it into itself and then fed upon it – and then, it cracked.

Splitting open, the eggs two sides began to pull apart – and Albert’s legs began to shift with it. Quickly he jumped to the side, sliding to a halt with his bioluminescent hand on the ground – and his eyes on the egg; though both were once more within his field of vision. The two sides of the egg shattered. They fell upon the ground and his eyes strained to see what lay within the darkness of Cocytus. Immediately, the ground quivered and shook. Immediately it became tumultuous. The whole of arena shattered, the ground throwing itself into the sky – and it stayed there without falling, floating as if gravity itself abandoned it.

The same was true of the slab upon which Albert stood, glowing brighter than before, lines across his body in a language long lost to humanity, their glow beautiful and yet horrendous all at the same time. It was clear something was different about him, that something from the egg’s hatching changed him – as well as changed the whole of the battlefield upon which they stood. Corbin and Crystal had the misfortune of still being on the ground, and Albert reached out – took one of the giant slabs of two-ton stone in his hand.

It seemed nearly weightless in the nullification field around him, the gravity of the planet itself no longer applying its rules to him. He turned the stone over in his hand, before using his arm to catapult it toward Crystal, rocketing it toward her with terminal velocity. As for Corbin? Well, what to do what to do. His left hand shifted to the side, and his sword re-forged itself within his palm, clasping his hands around the hilt he pointed the tip directly toward the man.

It was a clear challenge.

by Demon Testicles Tue Jul 25, 2017 2:05 am

Appeared to rip right through those demons which flooded from the gates and rained down from the sky. Their bodies, much less durable than the, exploded upon meeting the gargantuan form of Corban. As flesh A caustic ichor spew from their broken forms. This sinister blood stung his skin, but it was nothing that he couldn't handle with moon silver adaptation. In an instant, the demonic blood ceased to eat away at him.

Completely covered in the blood of fodder, a layer of sanguine – or what ever this demonic blood was colored – added a savage aspect to his form. The Boney plates protruding from arms and legs appeared oxidized and coarse. His skin appeared patchy and raw, as if scalded by hot water in certain areas.

In that moment Where his body remained stationary, The egg had started to hatch. While the massive shell had begun to open, Corban noticed his Spear sticking out from the ground. It wasn't far off from where Albert had parried it to begin with. A sonic wave blast from Corban's last known position. When his form was visible again, He appeared to be grasping the twelve foot pole arm.

It appeared like a far eastern Yari. The body was long and slender, easily resting over the webbing of his thumbs. The body of the spear was silver. There was a foot and a half of blade sectioned at the top and unlike the majority of the spear, it was lined with a brilliant white threshold. It created a visual disturbance of the light passing through it. Within the bright light enveloping the edges was a black core, utter darkness which seemed to hold no detectable properties.

It was safe to say that this spear was more than your average weapon.

As the arena was torn asunder, Corban simply stood in the pool of demon blood and crumbling flagstone. When he was challenged by the hell knight, it was safe to say he accepted – He immediately began to dance, or so that's how it appeared. He kicked up, drifting to the side and rotating his spear in front of him. His feet appeared to glide over the demon's blood as if it were solid ground. If he was approaching Albert, it must have been at an angle. Such was the revolving crescent defense, which was directed at Albert.

by Crystal Night Tue Jul 25, 2017 4:13 pm

A streak of death, the demons stood little chance in the wake of her charge. However, she was certain that they were merely cannon fodder and she could sense sinister energies swirling about with each death that occurred. The acidic blood that washed over the battlefield stained her clothing and skin and was nothing but a mere tingle compared to the fury of the Unconquered Sun.

In a nanosecond the fluids washed away and evaporated from her proximity and, witnessing the energies of her offenses become absorbed, she exhaled an inaudible sigh even as the egg appeared to crack open. So much for preventing that occurrence, but it transpired and they would have to deal with whatever vile thing crawled out of it like they did with all of their other past foes.

The rings upon her wrists pulsated and multiplied where one now circled each of her forearms with a high-pitched metallic shriek that lasted for a short duration. It appeared that events were becoming more troublesome than they had hoped for and, as the arena erupted into masses of debris and slabs, Crystal stood lightly upon the terrain with a neutral expression.

With a raise of her left hand, her form appeared to haze and the rings that whirred upon her wrists increased in rpm. Exposing the palm of that hand, the boulder collided dead on and the force of it caused the grounds to give way beneath her and crumble into a sizable indentation. However, she stood unfazed and now with a boulder in her grasp, which she opted to return to its sender with a pronation of her arm.

Hurtling it rapidly across the distance between the two of them, the rings upon her form multiplied once more into one each upon her legs. As their foe seemed to declare a challenge, Crystal drew in a deepened breath whilst shifting her right palm forward toward her opponent and her left forearm against her lower back. Exhaling and shifting her right foot to the forefront, her stance as relaxed and the rings that had manifested about her form shattered and reassembled to form a halo atop of her head and a large, vertical ring that levitated behind her.

The center of her palm illuminated a malevolent light of silver and, lurching forward, she seemed to levitate and her very existence seemed to fade in and out—flickering lethargically in a sway whilst exuding argent trails behind her. Not solely wanting to rely on her father's techniques that he bestowed upon her, the form of the enemies of shining sun was a combination of her own that advanced directly ahead toward the opponent despite her randomized fades.

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