Ikuras Is Freed

[Destroyer_Bravo 1054]

Rap'Lur keeps working on one of his famous fruit pies to sell at the market

[Pinsir99 526]

Briza peers out from the small cave she has taken residency in. "Er... That doesn't sound too good..."

[ThumperJack 927]

Norik sits down to meditate, trying to relieve himself of his fears.

He then begins to sweat, and then he opens his eyes panting, his fears

still there, still haunting him.

He then mutters to himself

 

"Ikuras...ye are un annoyin pest, know wot it feels lioke tuw make meh angreh."

[Heff 2460]

Far from the void, the halflings go about their daily buisiness in the Dale, oblivious to the Enemy that lurks just over the hills and across a river. The village Priest shudders and visits Elder Fumble talking of a strange feeling in the air.

[Bawd 222]

Far from the void, the halflings go about their daily buisiness in the Dale, oblivious to the Enemy that lurks just over the hills and across a river. The village Priest shudders and visits Elder Fumble talking of a strange feeling in the air.

 

Priest Mardo continually mutters about the Pumpkins looking 'wrong', a sure sign that something very bad has happened.

[The Templar 195]

Lenia, one of the former Master Clerics of the now defunct Clerical Order, is not spared the revelation of Ikuras' freedom. The very pain in her soul shatters her fragile mental state, leaving her blubbering and wailing in the arms of an alarmed companion for some time.

[susitsu 871]

A distant traveler raises his hood over his silent form as he turns back towards the lands he had so recently left. He frowns a bit before turning back to his traveling companion and saying "Not a matter to me now. We may continue unhindered."

 

Inwardly, he makes a note to prepare for a great battle, whether it be for good or evil. He would keep his expression devoid of any change beyond his usual to avoid allowing his traveling companion any sign of his feelings on the matter.

[Rig 17581]

Airaion collapses, screaming as the pain makes him writhe on the ground, losing all control of his senses, the sharp pains render the cleric unconscious, his frail mind suffering from the pain to the extensity that must've occurred because of his once apparent connection and evil with most things dark.

[AndrewTech 3332]

The High Cleric Mandru VonSchlichten clutches his heart as his soul groans in pain.

As he hears the words inside his head, he notices that his task has failed... The task Tahariae had told himself and two others to uphold at all costs.

And now, because this New Order of Golden Lances and Clerics were so weak, so devoid of the power needed to combat the darkness that was to come, a new war had started.

One which the old man feared he would not live to see the end of...

I am too old for this sort of thing... The wizened old cleric thinks inside his mind as he puts all the pieces together, and as he considers the future yet to come.

[Lyuin 65]

Lyuin Avern is in the arms of Lenia. Like most days he was thinking, Lenia's instability was odd. Right now the only things that concerned him was her mental state rather than the overcast skies that had come with it.

 

It was at that moment Lyuin felt an alien feeling. A backlash of the mind that told him something was very wrong. Clinging to Lenia for a brief moment with a vice-like grip he sat, teeth on edge. He struggled to maintain the calm etiquette associated with the Mali'aheral as a great pain swept through his mind.

 

Then it was gone. He clung tighter to Lenia, the idea of what had happened was simple but fairly accurate.

 

Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

 

(Clerics prepare your light, we just got our job back :D )

[Dromui 755]

Who am I? What have I done?

 

Skale awakens from his sleep with a silent scream, eyes wide as he stares upon the plain, stone wall before his bed. The startled red head slowly regains his composure, taking deep breaths to retain whatever calm still remains within his trembling and twitching body. As he thinks upon the events that had transpired only two elvish days ago, he cannot help but reconsider his life choice. But deep down inside, the mage knows his lust for power, his hatred for peace, and his love for the darkness will never allow him to turn away.

 

I am one with the dark, I am one with insanity.

 

Hours pass before he falls back into a state of sleep, dark dreams racing through his mind, the whispers of insanity nipping madly at his brain.

 

Dhaun'che, you have given your life to protect your family. His subconscious speaks these words, refusing to allow this matter to die. I turned my back on you. I lied to you. I lied to the others. I've spent many hours gaining the trust of dozens of clerics, druids, and mages simply to turn around and stab them in their frail backs. I let you die for my power, I let you fall for my ascension. As much as I loved you my niece, you were but a pawn. Your children will be taught, they will be warped, and you will thank me from the realms beyond.

 

Skale awakens from yet another nightmare filled night, sweat running down his hollow and face, eyes bruised and sunk deep into his pale face. "It is time." 

 

After many hours of travel, stopping to speak to the Itharel Hosper and the Archdruid Gi, once again regaining their trust, he stops before a dark swamp, dread sending shivers through his spine, goosebumps popping up all across his flesh. With a single deep breath, Skale steps deep into the swamp, his robes sweeping out around him, a dark wind moving across his form, sending the robe billowing in a frightful manner, blending in with the environment. After his trek through the dark swamp, the dark mage comes across the meditating form of Siggourdnbad. He raises his hand, palm open and facing the prone form. Upon such an action, the kneeling mage stands, turning back to Skale, his cherry red eyes meeting those of the albino.

 

"You have come..." Siggourdnbad muses, a smile pulling at his lips. "You think you are able to defeat me, Kibolroch? You are put a child in the force of phobism, compared to my own mastery." He raises his own hand, water beginning to snake about his sleeve.

 

A toothy smile, even more pale than the flesh of it's holder, can be seen from the dark shadows of the red-headed mage's hood. The darkness from within seems to dissipate, revealing the face of Skale. "You seem to forget Sigg, I may not be a master of phobism, but my magic is much stronger than your own." From his raised arm, a ball of flame burns into existence, taking on an eerie red color, as if the fire itself were sick. The two mage's meet one another's gaze for a final time, Siggourdnbad shaking his head. The ball of flame flies forth, meeting between the two with the snaking water, sizzling embers and steam bursting from the collision.

 

Skale begins to work furiously, stepping to his right, Siggourdnbad mirroring his movements, the two working a circle about one another as they focus. A dark chant bubbles forth from the lips of the elder cultist, bringing dread to any nearby. “Nozlot-khow! Radarm nuzk’sek zedr-ka!” A shard of midnight black forms, appearing from nowhere, as if ripped from space itself. Directly in front of him, another fireball forms, this one the size of a cantaloupe . Siggourdnbad  fires first, thinking himself the superior, leading the shard to slam into Skale's form. But instead, the red-head simply stops moving and steps back, seeming to throw his fireball across the clearing, slamming it directly into the chest of Siggourdnbad.

 

The fireball explodes upon impact, setting his robes aflame, melting them into his skin. The cries of pain and fear erupt from Siggourdnbad, the horseman falling to his knees, attempting to crawl towards the swamp-water. Only inches away, Skale slams his booted foot upon his hand, snapping fingers like twigs. 

"Upon this day, Siggourdnbad  dies but is reborn. A new horseman rides upon this dark night." Skale watches the fire burn the body, charring and mutilating the flesh beneath. The light leaves the elder's eyes, his face slumping forward into the dirt. Skale, now Siggourdnbad turns away, arms crossed, robe once more billowing outwards from the wind. "With Kknotos fall, I've finally been able to remove the disease that is this fool, Lord Ikuras..." He looks up into the night sky, ears twitching. "Pestilence rises, reborn, soon Death and War shall follow suit..."

 

The dark, dreaded laughter of Ikuras echoes across the swamp...

[๖ۣۜ§osa (E.G.I.E.) 520]

The dark, dreaded laughter of Ikuras echoes across the swamp...

(( (( (( "This is my Swamp..." Ikuras hisses loudly. )) )) ))

[The Druidic Order 200]

~Snip~

[Giga 357]

Archdruid Gi finishes growing a chair in his room, and a good thing too! The moment he does so, he winces as the pain in his soul erupts. He falls into the newly-grown chair, panting.

 

After a few moments, he rises from the chair, clambering up onto Rui'thni's canopy, gazing out westwards. 

 

"And so it has happened..." He says with a saddened sigh, closing his eyes and allowing the presence of the great Elder Tree to comfort him.

[Ventusyr 233]

The spasms threw Damien off of Heshakomeu's stomach. The mali'ker watched in confusion as Hesh lept to his feet and looked around the small mid-construction town, a look of confusion and frustration on his face. Unconsciously, his hand had gone to his heart, which was beating twice as fast as it had been before the pain overtook him. Heshakomeu raised a hand to his hair and brushed it away from his face as his expression faded from fury to dread. Something had been released into this world, something evil, something unnatural.

 

He had gone to the village to get away from adventure and the evil of the world. The world, it would seem, was not keen on accepting that. The lonely priest resolved to find others of the collapsed Order and sank back to Damien, holding his friend as he began to fear the worst.

 

Ikuras has arisen.