A Flare In The North

[Shadeleaf 1022]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4q2e8lnqwwk

 

          Cold wind washed over the forsaken, Northern landscape as it did every other day... yet something stirred within these lands. A closer look taken, a figure seemed to be pushing ahead against the winds, surging deeper and deeper north by the minute. With robes fluttering, (Shi) trecked across the landscape, shivering violently as he approached a monolith of a black wall... one made of obsidian

The figure was not alone however, no, looking more closely into the blizzard a form could be just barely seen besides him, that of a Harbinger, and more notably Shae’tan. Although it’s trail left no imprints, and it’s armor near perfectly blended into the landscape, the presence of it always was palpable, especially to that of Shi. “Just a bit further child... the end nears...” it stated ominously

 

          Entering the caldera of obsidian, Shi near froze from what was seen... the sculpture of a dragon head that one stood dormant no longer had the placated disposition as previous visits. Instead, within its mouth glowed a viscous magma, pouring down from the mouth as blood from a wound, a figure standing within the open maw

 

 

          “Master” Shae’tan called forwards, stepping onto the corrupted bridge and taking a knee as Shi hung back upon the same bridge. “What have you brought me this day...” he growled in a subhuman voice, gravely and unnaturally old. With that, Shae’tan stepped backwards, allowing Shi to advance forwards, who repeated the same action of kneeling with the aid of Shae’tan’s taloned gauntlet.

          “You seek power? Immortality?” Setherien spoke in the same monotone, eyeing the two below, “I can grant you this wish... but I ask for one thing in return.” he concluded with a slight hiss. With a bow of his head, Shi spoke lightly, “Anything sir...”, carrying a nervous, and devout tone in his voice. “You shall serve me until the end of times...” Setherian began, “But with the world in my grasp, I control even time itself, I control the chain of events. You will serve me eternally... And if you betray me, you will live the last of your days in agony between this world and the next, until I deem you are worthy of being expelled from existence.” Setherian stated in almost a business like tone, clawed hands clasping afront of a blood red armored skin.

          “O-of course my lord...” Shi chocked out, bowing his head as if those words were enough. “Very well... let the ceremony begin. I have not spoken these words since the day I laid the order of the Golden Lance to waste. This is a good day... this signifies the fall of Anthos and the beginning of my reign over the mortal races. From this day forwards, you shall serve me eternally, purified from the bounds of flesh and the constraints of mortality... Shi, Loche Faelcyn” Setherien started, raising his hands as a crimson and blue light over took his eyes, drakaar fire forming within his grasp.
 

 

 

          With those words, a northern flare was visible as the flames, contrasting the cold about them, enveloped Shae’tan and Shi, screams of agony and pain rising from the Mortal as Shae’tan watched from the side, seeing a black mist slowly... ever so slowly leak from the being as it was reduced to ashes. Still within the wrath of Setheiren’s purifying blaze, Shae’tan took but a small blood shard from it’s robes, flapping in the flame as if they were wind upon the outside of the caldera, and held it towards the now roasted Shi. As if by magnetic attraction, the smog arising from Shi’s corpse filled the blood shard, giving it a neon red glow... only visible as the flames finally receided.

            With a sidewards glance to Setherien, Shae’tan effortlessly launched the shard towards the drakaar, Setherian catching it without issue. “See him fit for a set as soon as possible. this one has a lot to learn.” Shae’tan stated poignantly with a bow of its head, turning about on its heel, before setting back out into the freezing cold, but one other blood shard in its grasp, “We’ve one more to find yet...”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

          Its proverbial eyes opening, Orokana stared out from within the confinement of a rust colored helm, made of the same material as that of the original Harbingers. At once, voices filled its collective mind, a chaos like no other that could be sustained by no mortal... yet Orokana seemed to be, numb, to the pain. Not just pain, emotion, love, hate, empathy... it was the perfect tool, and that it realized as it stood, form near weightless as it surveyed the inside of the cavern, seven Harbingers, the Keeper, and Setherien himself creating a semi-circle about its position, and at once, it realized that this... is where it belonged.

 

OOC

Well isn't this a turn of events, hello ladies and gents of Lotc, I'd like you all to welcome the newest member of the Harbingers, Knyghtfalcon! We're hoping he'll do just as good a job as y'all are, and I'm sure he will :3 Also, merry 1.7.2 update!

[Guest Grey]

((Shi my bby what've you done </3))

[Demotheus 651]

Daniella notices Shi's not been cradled in her arms for a while, and sniffs slightly. "Where'd he go...?"

[Slic3man 484]

     A Gravelord saw the flare from a distance, spying upon it before speaking to itself in its usual rickety tone. It would remain in its seat, before speaking out.

 

     "I wonder what had triggered this, perhaps they require more power for the approaching storm? Is this not a sign for that they fear, and seek more power to oust their foes?"

[Tom_Whiteman 949]

  Kraal stands beside the Gravelord, his jaw dropped as his head slowly follows the flare. He snaps his head to the Gravelord, his jaw dangling from his skull. His teeth begin chattering together as snickers are heard after the Gravelord's statement. 

[A Bunch of Mimics (Knyghtfalcon) 88]

Orokana turned its helm to view the room. Advancing forward slowly, the one formerly known as the demon child Shi or to his friends and family as Loche Faelcyn, had been reborn. Its large helm slowly moved to a downwards angle as it examined its hands, taking a long moment to stare at the gauntlets which replaced what had been there before. A dull brown color met its vision, the metal seeming to be rusted. It lowered its gauntlet, lifting its helm back up to view those around it. It gave a slight nod, ready to serve.

[Avacyn 1712]

Absolution rides slowly down the road from Abresi, making the long trek to Malinor. He turns his head, and gazes as the beautiful flare peaks above the horizon. He clutches his right hand to his chest, within it clasped a red stone. He closes his eyes, feeling the warmth, and in his mind, he hopes.

[A Bunch of Mimics (Knyghtfalcon) 88]

(( is this an announcement that you'll be having another person with extremely long emotes with every word in the thesaurus and spammy spells? ))

 

((Extremely long emotes? Maybe If I'm feeling descriptive. 

 

Every word in the thesaurus? B-but... I like my Thesaurus... I put stickers on it and everything

 

Spammy spells? Nah, I don't plan on spammy spells. ))

 

 

((On another note, I look forward to roleplaying with you all, and I hope you'll enjoy me being around. I'll do the very best I can.))

[DruinsBane 240]

Dear Nug and Galendar

 

(( is this an announcement that you'll be having another person with extremely long emotes with every word in the thesaurus and spammy spells? ))

 

((Amen nug.))

Not to play that card, but to play that card. It's a role-play post, treat it as such. (You're event-team for the sake of Cthulhu)

 

The Tilted Performer's figure sways aloof upon the staples of his heels. The fold atop his brow crease in a perplexed design, eyes narrowing on the haunting light. "Oh, oh, oh. A flare how novice, what will they think of next?". His head cocking back, mouthing unintelligible slander to an undead clown.

[SortedJarhead 817]

"o **** now they are going to be more edgy and less scary" think armas "well they not scary anyway they just ignore when u attack them and somehow swords dont damage them"

[Rivk Zavadsky 700]

*laughs because he and 8 other orenian soldier made it out of the north alive when there was a big army of Scourge or what ever*

 

Rick: They are no match for even myself, they won't will, they shall not win, it is this day brethens the enemy is at our doorsteps, we shjall not die IT IS THE ENEMY THAT shall burn in their own pits of death.

[Wretched 2075]

A looming, robed figure bearing the unique helmet of the Harbinger Orithur watched the proceedings from a distance, the clawed fingertips of his frozen gauntlet drumming against the pommel of his sword in fearful anticipation. Dangerous thoughts raced through his mind as finally a new Harbinger was birthed before his empty stare, soon to be clad in robes and armour of a dark red. Although he wasn't near he could hear every word of their conversation perfectly as if he were standing between them, until of course they turned to depart and the glow of the flare began to die. Orithur bowed his head to Shae'tan as he walked by him, yet his curious gaze remained locked to Setherien. Could this new addition share the uncertainty and doubt that had plagued Orithur's mind, which the other Harbingers all seemed to disregard? And as if to answer, Setherien met his stare for a few moments, like he knew exactly what Orithur was thinking. Out of sheer fear, Orithur promptly bowed to his master and followed in the direction of Shae'tan, but he could feel Setherien's eyes burning into his back as he departed.