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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
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Post by blacknoise on Sept 20, 2015 21:35:37 GMT
Timore slowly drifted through the temple, dragging his long fingers across the walls ever so gently. The roar of the waters from the falls provided a gentle backdrop to the solemn meeting that would follow. The lesser deity of fear, Timore certainly was not one of the favorites among the Firstborn. However, he above all others knew of the implications of why they were forced were to meet now. Arthur, the Elemental, had died. Timore never met the man personally, but like all Firstborn, Timore knew of him. The smoking, large, grey hulk of a humanoid morphed as he walked, razor-like blades sliding over his skin. He took no form, for he had no need to, these Firstborn would see through any disguise just as he would.
Stepping into the main hall of the temple, the lesser deity observed all who came to attend. There was were few of them. Nodding to any who arrived, he spoke up immediately. His voice was like a whisper on the wind, but easily heard,
"Firstborn, we can be killed."
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At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 21, 2015 2:28:11 GMT
This should have been assumed. It is foolish to boast of immortality.
Arcanus leaned against a darkened corner, his wings wrapped around him like a billowing cloak. The hood of his outfit hid his face from sight. He did not speak aloud, but instead his voice appeared among the thoughts of all those present, a quivering notion that danced on the edge of madness itself.
The question is, do you have a plan? Do you have an agenda? If this is but another meaningless gathering to exchange information already learnt, I am leaving.
The agitation of the dream spirit showed in the air around him, as it crackled violently. Thin, jagged bolts of light darted from his body like snakes, slithering psychedelically in colorful patterns from their source. They hissed and curled as they traveled, eventually fizzling out a good yard or so from the lesser deity. In fact, everything inside the circle seemed a bit off; wind blew when the air was still, insects spun around as if struck dumb, and phantom shapes almost the shade of nothingness danced with lackadaisical whimsy. Arcanus seemed unperturbed by these phenomena, nor seemed to give them any attention at all. As with many things, they were merely there.
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Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
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Post by Leb on Sept 21, 2015 7:06:01 GMT
Those who have gathered immediately began to murmur of the idea that they can be slain. Some voiced their anger and displeasure and others mocked them for such beliefs."Please. Be calm, nothing good comes from squabbling amongst ourselves." Her voice rang through the temple halls as her tone had fallen heavily from her typically gentle and soft spoken tone. Her prickled form conveying the anger she holds within. Those who stood over her had all stepped away giving her space to step forward and speak aloud with all eyes upon her darkened green form. She faced Timore, obvious disdain crossed her features.
"Timore.." Not many knew of her hatred against Timore and some only guess as to what could have caused the nature spirit to slip away from her impartial-like attitude.
"I hope there is more to this summoning than the spreading of fear."
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Post by Dymion on Sept 21, 2015 15:44:23 GMT
"My, my, aren't we hostile." As his deep, smooth voice echoed among the Firstborn, Ethale stepped from his hiding place in the shadows, yellow irises scanning over the others collected here. A slight smile played at his lips, unsettling as it cracked his dark skin. "And I thought I was going to be the target." His feet lazily crisscrossed as he walked forward, until he was at the front. A spot most grudgingly allowed. He knew they were all not much for him being there. He wasn't a "proper" Firstborn. And yet he still felt the calling of meetings such as these, still showed up. If anything, just to stir them up more. At the least, it was amusing. At the most... well, Timore said it himself. We can be killed. The words resonated in his ears as Ethale's eyes settled on the lord of terror.
"Honestly, Timmy, you thought you couldn't die?" Even the Divines shed blood." He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound, as he no doubt baffled the many there. Few would know what he was talking about. Less cared to remember. "Anyway, I doubt that this entire meeting was so you could state your epiphany. So what, may I ask, are we doing here?" The words quickly shifted any attention on Ethale to Timore. Whether they liked it or not, the vampyric patron spoke truthfully. There had to be more.
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Post by Lev on Sept 21, 2015 20:51:20 GMT
"Your status betrays your haughty tongue, Ethale. Silence would be wiser," a cool, icy voice replied to the vampyre's remark. Theolandra entered the Sacred Temple in a shower of glimmering light that rippled across her silvery dress, and bounced off of her pale hair like a fiery crown. In comparison to the other Firstborn - whose large forms varied in abstraction and height - she maintained a lower human form, the form gifted to her by Divine collective. Ethale was the only exception. "Lest the burning hands of Day find you," she continued.
Blue eyes took in the room, greeting the gathering council of secondhand deities. Some returned the godchild's silent greeting and others did not, feeling themselves slighted or insulted by sharing common ground with a mortal form. "Greater power does not hold you here. This audience is by choice alone." Her clear voice filled the four walls of the temple with ease. She paused briefly, swiveling from the center of the room."If you believe your singular power enough to stave this Divine Killer, we will not stop you. Otherwise, let's discuss a plan of action."
Silence followed, prideful and agreeable. with that she turned to the eldest, the foreboding voice of dread that had spoken first.
"Don't you agree, Timore?"
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
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Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
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Post by blacknoise on Sept 22, 2015 2:58:51 GMT
Timore held his peace, and for good reason. He did not become as powerful as he was because of his innate ability to draw upon fear, rather, it was a blend of cunning, cruelty, and patience. When Theolandra spoke, Timore smiled inwardly, unable to smile on the outside. She spoke Timore's thoughts exactly, though even her ice cold speech was even still kinder than how Timore would have said it. The lesser deity of fear, despite his deep hatred of everyone in the room, could not help but admire Theolandra, in a way. Among the lesser Divines, she was the strongest, even her nicest requests often came off as threats to the faceless one. Nodding, he responded in his cold, hissing, ever-angry voice,
"Indeed, you speak my mind aptly, Theolandra."
Timore crossed center of the room, gesturing a low bow to Theolandra as he did. Looking to the rest, his neck craning out from a hunched back, he continued.
"We must find this one who killed the Elemental, may his soul rest. If we do not, I fear... I have lived among the dark places of this world longer than anyone, and not in all my centuries have I seen someone who could challenge one of us. But there is one among the catacombs, one who stalks the darkest places of this world with more than curiosity, it stalks with purpose. I do not think it capable of doing such a thing as killing the Elemental, but I think it may know who did, or at least know how the Elemental died."
He waited, looking at Theolandra as he spoke. Timore knew Theolandra had tried her hardest to eliminate the dark arts from Etirath, specifically the abomination of Necromancy. So, it was with intention to anger Theolandra that he said,
"They call it an ArchNecromancer. One of two left alive in the world, as per last time I stalked the surface."
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At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
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Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
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Post by Annasiel on Sept 23, 2015 2:37:50 GMT
Arcanus was watching the petty drama with mild interest. The chaos of Sonder made one yearn for more authentic entertainment, one that only conscious beings could provide. It was akin to reality television or soap operas, though he doubted his peers would understand such references. A farce of a dramatic comedy, mayhaps? No matter. Finally, Theolandra the Godchild spoke of action, and the dream spirit's wandering mind immediately snapped into focus. She spoke of bonding together, shunning the weakness of the individual, hinting at finding the fool who killed the Keeper. And a fool the murderer was! Whoever they were, they brought the wrath of divinity upon their heads. When the lady made her mind, many followed her, for reasons that escaped Arcanus. Charisma, wisdom, or pure essence of power, she had a noticeable sway over the other lesser deities. At least, noticeable to a dispassionate eye. Those who nodded in consent most likely took the idea as their own in their arrogance.
Timore mentioned an ArchNecromancer, naming them as the killer. Arcanus was irritated by this claim, and by the knowledge. The deity of fear always knew something Arcanus did not, which bothered him more than he cared to admit. He was the guardian of forbidden and lost knowledge, so how was it a being born to bring shivers had unknown information? But a necromancer... an ArchNecromancer, as Timore had said... this was interesting. Very interesting.
Wovenwind, we all know your opinion on death magic. What say you to this? Will you launch your kingdom in a violent crusade, like olden times? Or will you hold back? Seek more information? The possibilities are endless in Udel's path.
The next few words only appeared in the mind of the queen.
Your choice might very well influence the outcome of history. You have more power over us than you may think.
Contented with his words, Arcanus relaxed, watching the situation unfold. Nightmares and daydreams both brought him joy.
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Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
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Post by Leb on Sept 24, 2015 4:19:49 GMT
"My, my, aren't we hostile." A deep and smooth voice rang clearly about the firstborn. Yellow irises and a cracked smile "And I thought I was going to be the target." Azalea watched Ethale as he chuckled throatily whist chiding Timore about his lack of knowledge of being killable. Regardless Azalea paid him no heed as Theolandra's icy voice called out. In a shower of light that glittered, she took the usual form Azalea finds her in. She gave her the slightest of nods in greeting while she continued to speak.
"If you believe your singular power enough to stave this Divine Killer, we will not stop you. Otherwise, let's discuss a plan of action." She faced Timore voice filled with dread. "Don't you agree, Timore?" Azalea turned her atention to Timore gauging his response.
"Indeed, you speak my mind aptly, Theolandra." Taking center stage, all eyes had found their way upon him. "We must find this one who killed the Elemental, may his soul rest. If we do not, I fear... I have lived among the dark places of this world longer than anyone, and not in all my centuries have I seen someone who could challenge one of us. But there is one among the catacombs, one who stalks the darkest places of this world with more than curiosity, it stalks with purpose. I do not think it capable of doing such a thing as killing the Elemental, but I think it may know who did, or at least know how the Elemental died." Timore then stared down at Theolandra almost as if to watch for her reaction to what he would say next. "They call it an ArchNecromancer. One of two left alive in the world, as per last time I stalked the surface."
At this, Azalea had snapped to attention. An ArchNechromancer in Etirath? The very thing that not only practices it but pioneered the very art! And in the kingdom Theolandra has done her best to preside over. This was most likely a jab at the queen to have her lose composure and cloud her judgement, but to be sure she looked over to her friend, worry etched on her face as she waited for her to speak.
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Post by Dymion on Sept 24, 2015 13:45:40 GMT
When the voice of Theolandra called out to Ethale, he knew the words as if by memory of a script, not even turning his head to look at her as his cocky smile grew. She'd been quick to state his place, an obvious move of power. She still had to prove herself to many in the assembly, whether they admitted it or not. And to those many, there was no better way than to put the most insolent in his place, to keep "the rabble" in check. It was a role he played happily, because, whether they liked it or not, he had some power because of it. He had a say. Nearly any words he spoke were a challenge, So they had to be answered.
Silent as the grave when Theolandra spoke. his eyes were not on her, but the others, gauging their response to the child. It was sickening, how quickly they folded to her word. Because of her birth, her creation, she held more sway than even older Firstborn, and yet not even half the experience. She was the only one truly younger than him, and she had started higher up. It was a classic display of "noble" birth. But it was no matter to him. Only those who followed blindly. He would wait and watch.
What Timore said next garnered even more attention from the vampyre, and with interest, his eyes swiveled to the fearmonger, keying in on every word. The dramatic ending had to be his favorite part. The ripple it created as all eyes turned on Theolandra was amusing. Yet again, the elder had proven why he was Ethale's favorite. In one fell swoop, he had stirred greater fear among his brethren and potentially undermined the new protégé. Truly beautiful. Arcanus, the most enigmatic, only added to it, questioning her directly. Ethale's gaze zoned in on the queen of Etirath, gluing in on her eyes. These would tell the story her voice would not. He had one advantage in this field of near divinities. He was the only other being that understood mortal queues as Theolandra did, who knew what exactly to look for in their features. And as a vampire, this was even moreso.
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Post by Lev on Sept 25, 2015 19:11:51 GMT
Theolandra waited for Timore's speech to close. Spinning long-winded webs of fear was an old tactic that he reveled in using, lacing its strands at the feet of his audience so they could promptly trip over themselves in the panic that followed. She would not budge to satisfy him, but she'd be lying if the mention of a necromancer didn't burn her bones. Timore's knowledge of darker world's couldn't be denied; the truth behind what he divulged is what concerned her. Keeping a stoic face was key as she scanned the mumbling faces of the room, some victim to Timore's trap and others surely concocting plans to their benefit. Before she spoke again Arcanus, in a rare moment, voiced his opinion, asking questions not for himself but the entire room. Arcanus was another Firstborn who inspired feelings in others to enjoy results.
In the following silence Theolandra's mind was seized by an inner voice. It came as voices like that always did, from everywhere and nowhere, while eyes of every shape and color waited on her deliberation. Your choice might very well influence the outcome of history. You have more power over us than you may think. The words seemed like the light touch of a friendly hand but felt like the weight of worlds fell on her shoulders. Perhaps that was the way he had intended them to be. In times like this Theolandra wondered why Arcanus' words seemed so true.. As a Divine her purpose had been fulfilled. Sayre was slain and the mortal world was purged of his poisons. As a human she waded in uncertainty. Should she not feel the call of her mother, Svitani? Did Udel not visit her dreams, too? Fathers Den and Idvesta.. Was all of this really her destiny?
"If such a monstrosity truly exists under my power then I am ashamed. To be blind to such an evil is an error I will rectify. One of our own has fallen," she said then took pause. "Though partly human the Divines still weep and rage against his passing. All of you have felt it." Eyes side-glancing toward Arcanus, she continued. "I intend to validate who or what killed Arthur Midas. Once that information has been gathered I will decide the next course of action - not before."
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Jan 17, 2019 22:10:26 GMT
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blacknoise
I don't have kik.
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Aug 14, 2015 15:19:56 GMT
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Post by blacknoise on Sept 29, 2015 5:12:30 GMT
Timore's skin shuddered as the murmurs floated about the room. His grey, smokey form shifting and churning like a thousand rusted knives slowly scratching and screaming down a stone wall. The many manifestations of fear echoed from the beings and reverberated into Timore, feeding the monstrosity that he truly was. Careful to not let his list for power cloud his judgement, he listened closely to Theo after generally ignoring Arcanus. The being was powerful in his own right, but Timore saw him as shortsighted, not intelligent enough to see the endgame.
That did not mean he could not be utilized as a powerful tool, on the flip side. Timore would cataloge that thought for later. Looking to Theolandra, the machination of pure terror itself spoke curtly to his queen.
"Yes, Theolandra, you dispel uncertainty in your actions with haste, as I have come to admire. Though, my mind wanders nevertheless." Timore walked towards the center of the room, hunched himself over, then proceeded to draw a mark on the floor. The mark took shape instantly, a common one in alchemy, the mark of brimstone. Gesturing to it, he continued,
"To think an Arch necromancer would not have a following is a foolish thought. There exists not simply one evil in the world below, but many. This necromancer, it is so hard to meet with them. I wander and wonder, will you seek to facilitate a witch hunt, my Queen? This one has walked among your people for many, many years, and never before have you caught wind of them. How does the death of one, even one of us, change that?"
Shaking once more, Timore glanced about the gathered lessers once more before finishing.
"Oh but it is of no matter to me. Good luck, my Queen. If any of you should seek out a, separate, plan of action, you may seek me outside of this gathering."
At that, Timore ceased to exist among the Lesser Divines. His essence faded from their gaze only to gather elsewhere, nearby.
Outside of the temple, Timore allowed himself a laugh. How interesting had life become, he marveled.
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Post by Dymion on Sept 29, 2015 12:26:05 GMT
Silence followed the lord of terror as he vanished from the gathered. His words echoed across the temple. Eyes roamed and wandered among the crowds, and for a moment, no one seemed to know what to say. Then it started. Low and steady, a deep laughter began to echo across the chamber, a crescendo attracting the eyes of the Firstborn gathered to one shape in particular. Ethale, a smile on his face, strode to the center, yellow eyes scanning over the crowd before settling on the form of Theolandra, mere feet away.
"And so we see Timmy's little game." His voice rang with a sense of irony, sarcasm seeming to drip from his words as they were released into the tense atmosphere. "I hate to say this, Theolandra, but you have become nothing more than a pawn. A toy for him to manipulate." He turned from her, briefly, his eyes scanning over the shifting forms of the Firstborn."All this has done is instill fear. 'Oh no, we can be killed? Whatever shall we do?" The mocking tone he utilized struck chords in those collected, his smile now a sneer. "A few words was all it took to make you all sniveling cowards. I almost feel ashamed, a man among such entities." Yellow eyes snapped to Theolandra, yet again, their intensity a powerful force. "Whether we like it or not, you face a trap. A clever design from a mind who has watched the world since it truly began." Step by step, he began to circle her. "Give in to the suggestions of Timore, to the fear that radiates from you and these brethren, and launch in your home a season of suspicion and terror. Begin this hunt, and watch as the people you try to save tear each other apart, all the while Timore growing stronger. Or..." Ethale stopped his pacing, eyes boring into her.
"Do nothing, and witness as men fall prey to the shadows in the dark, their mind constantly plagued by the idea that somewhere out there is a monster. A killer, waiting and lurking, with the strength to kill even the greatest man." He paused allowing his words to sink in, before turning to the crowd around them. "Wouldn't you all agree?"
The question set off a cacophony of sound, each Firstborn occupied with either outrage at the audacity of Ethale or by stating their opinions to the rest, Only moments were needed before most eyes averted from the center. The vampyric patron took it as an opportunity, stepping closer to Theolandra as he whispered in her ear. "A third path exists. Gather those you trust, and begin the search in secret. The populace mustn't know. If they do, Timore will win, and fear will reign supreme." He leaned back, eyes staring into hers. "We wouldn't want that, now would we?" The last word left his mouth as shadows seemed to consume him, a dark plot filling the space, before he too was gone as quickly as he'd appeared. He'd done his part. Now he was curious to the response he would get next time.
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Jan 27, 2019 20:04:50 GMT
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Leb
The loneliest are the kindest. The saddest smile the brightest. The most damaged are the wisest.
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August 2015
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Post by Leb on Oct 8, 2015 18:40:54 GMT
"I intend to validate who or what killed Arthur Midas. Once that information has been gathered I will decide the next course of action - not before."
Wise choice milady.
"Yes, Theolandra, you dispel uncertainty in your actions with haste, as I have come to admire. Though, my mind wanders nevertheless."
What could he possibly be thinking.. Something not good most likely.
"To think an Arch necromancer would not have a following is a foolish thought. There exists not simply one evil in the world below, but many. This necromancer, it is so hard to meet with them. I wander and wonder, will you seek to facilitate a witch hunt, my Queen? This one has walked among your people for many, many years, and never before have you caught wind of them. How does the death of one, even one of us, change that?"
Of course there's more than one evil in the world. Rotten apples spoil the bunch.
"Oh but it is of no matter to me. Good luck, my Queen. If any of you should seek out a, separate, plan of action, you may seek me outside of this gathering."
Hah! No matter to him? That damn vile thing! No, be calm, he only seeks reactions.
"And so we see Timmy's little game." Ethale spoke now. "I hate to say this, Theolandra, but you have become nothing more than a pawn. A toy for him to manipulate." Azalea held her composure, nothing but contempt on her face. "All this has done is instill fear. 'Oh no, we can be killed? Whatever shall we do?" The mocking tone he used had her skin prickle and darken. "A few words was all it took to make you all sniveling cowards. I almost feel ashamed, a man among such entities." Her face steeled into a frown as she gripped her arms to keep herself from doing anything out of anger. She needed to keep leveled with her head on her shoulders. "Whether we like it or not, you face a trap. A clever design from a mind who has watched the world since it truly began." He began to circle Theolandra continuing his speech. "Give in to the suggestions of Timore, to the fear that radiates from you and these brethren, and launch in your home a season of suspicion and terror. Begin this hunt, and watch as the people you try to save tear each other apart, all the while Timore growing stronger. Or..." Ethale stopped to stare her down as he made to emphasize the other option.
"Do nothing, and witness as men fall prey to the shadows in the dark, their mind constantly plagued by the idea that somewhere out there is a monster. A killer, waiting and lurking, with the strength to kill even the greatest man." A pause for dramatic settling before he faced everyone. "Wouldn't you all agree?"
Of all the conniving fools! I will not be swayed by petty words.
Azalea did not speak as the lessers all made their noise. She would speak of the matter with Theolandra in private but in the mean time she will restrain herself and clear her mind from the uproar. She'll be damned if her head continues to ache from the raucous conversations about her. She let the information soak in and came to terms that if anything was true, if Etirath truly harbored an ArchNecromancer, and if there was a legion beneath the kingdom.. The citizens would not be safe, something Lady Theolandra prioritizes.
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