The Sprouting Branches Of Conflict

[Zarsies 6795]

 

Druids, critters, and all alike mobilized into action as a tear of abyssal mist shredded the center of the trees. From a rift seething with tendrils of shadow and the ilk of the Undead, cataclysm and ruin met the Druid’s Grove. By the maroon rage of an inferno, choking streams of airborne miasma, or overwhelming swarms of fleshy abominations, death was dealt to the living as the Archdaemon hovered from the stationed ground of his underlings. Iblees, the Deific Shadow, the Worldbreaker, bathed the forest in a swath of staining corruption in his wake while hovering up towards the Father Tree of the Druids. Cries sung out from the foliage in a chorus of macabre violence, consisted of the screams of pain from the Drui and their contorted counterparts, each letting volumes of their harping voice clash in the leaves.

 

 

A root of bramble and oak emerged from the wooden struts of the Father tree with a great and terrible roar from its shafts of timber. It lumbered forth, swiping its arm at the Undead menace, squishing the skeletal and brawny frames of eldritch beasts under its monstrous root. But in its advance, the arm neared sure destruction. Manifested in a sickly, churning mass of obscuring darkness, the distorting form of the Fallen One reared up the steps of the Father Tree. In a sheer passage of his divinity, the bark let out a croak of splintering shards as sawdust spewed from it, its massive body being converted into soot and cinder. Embers grew from its interior, and the length fell into ash. The Archdaemon continued on his warpath to the core of the grove, nearing its heart. Meanwhile, the Undead and their slew of creeping beasts, licking flame, and shrieking clouds continued to blaze through the trees while Druids threw ravaging animals and hulking manipulations of growth back. The theatre of battle was still set while the closest of Iblees trailed his pace.

 

 

Whilst the living and not so throttled their magics against one another, a group of very unalike figures crept down into the crux of the great tree. The motley crew of the Undead, all of varying shades and heights, moved onward as a duo split from the main envoy and took the focus of the Descendants. The guise of shifting smog in a humanoid form of a hue so intense and dark it scorned the eyes of any mortal to merely glance upon it strode the Archdemon, manifested as the darkest shadow cast in the lightless depths of the Father Tree.

 

 

Roots twisted, leaves withered, and ash swept through the forest as it all fell in ebbing waves of death and rot. Arid gales pushed through the area as the Undead and Druid factions still waged their battle, the wrath of the Worldbreaker himself tearing apart the terrain. The Father Tree’s base split apart, its bark and canopy waining and cracking while veins of coal-toned black weaved up its trunk. Dark hives of festering black wriggled upwards from its body, transforming the area into a wasteland of withered life.

 

 

The Archdruid Lillith Winterleaf remained among the Drui still standing between the Betrayer and his goal, terror on her face, her arms outstretched as she shouted her petty, insignificant words. In a graceful sway of the Shadow’s arm, a tear opened in its misty digits like onyx lightning fraying out in the air. From it did the Archdaemon heave forth the Axe of Krug, the brilliant and golden weapon aglow with tongues of flame licking up its exquisite ridges and blade. In a single, sweeping motion the Archdaemon cleaved the Golden Relic through the Archdruid Lillith, slicing her in half, straight into the Aspect Stone’s speckled and smooth surface, meeting the blade from heel to toe against the gem. It was here the breeding began.

 

 

Cataclysm struck, and the Trouble began. A torrent of calamity barraged the realm, all setting one another in rapid succession. A massive explosion rippled out from the Aspect Stone, cascading Iblees and the warping Axe in his clutch in a rainbow of color while the frail Undead following their Lord and the collected Druids were shot backwards. The Archdaemon stood within the blast, its shadowy form tearing backwards to reveal a deeper and condensed manifestation of a vivid monstrosity. In the flurry of activity, the Axe of Krug twisted. The weapon broke, revealing itself from its dormant state, standing in its place beside Iblees as the awoken patron Aengul of Courage, Malchediael. The Grove released a hideous cry as the Archdaemon shifted away in a sudden blitz, disappearing with the returned Aengul. The Aspect Stone, still radiating a forceful blast, ended its repulsion and imploded in a fabulous shatter of hue, the fallen Archdruid’s body vanishing in the flash of emerald light. Two streaking lights shot from it, rocketing through the decrepit Father Tree and soared off into the sky, disappearing among the clouds towards the south. As the lights raced, a deluge of roaring illumination shone down from the heavens towards the east, the courts of the Celestials opening. A set of lucid, blinding pillars rang downward from the Seven Skies, hailing upon the land while vague figures lept down through the columns of awesome flare.

 

 

Just a short beat after, a colossal scream shook the north. The behemoth tower of the Undead, their first established connection to Athera, crumbled. The brutish spire of malformed black and turbulent flame was extinguished as the giant fell into a terrible portal streaking through the air. A mouth, clad in ebony teeth the size of the recently felled Father Tree opened, its gullet the vasts of the Nether and its beasts within. The gaping maw swallowed the construct whole, tearing it from the land in a gargantuan bite. The clasping of its fangs signalled the horrific scream, just after reverting it into nothingness as it receded from the world.

 

 

In the few moments it came, the event ended. The eastern light faded, the clouds returned to their previous forms, and the Druid’s Grove was obliterated in devastation. But there was something missing beyond the Archdaemon and the risen Axe; the Undead. From those in battle, to the ones dormant in the Nether, to the Overlord and Prophet, each disappeared in the same rifts of tearing darkness like they entered. In their place sat nothing, only the calm of their storm. The fires and stray fiends lingered still in the ravaged corpse of the Grove with their harbingers not. A grand quiet trickled over the lands as conflict brewed and trouble was set afoot, only pillars of smoke and soot now rising from the Father Grove to mark anything had occurred at all in this dreaded silence.

~:;:~

The Undead are no more. It’s been discussed and decided the server is not fit for a single group given privileges over others for antagonism. Lord of the Craft has evolved past that. For this, we’re shifting; there will be no sole group that will twist and fight the Descendants under the server’s sponsorship. In place of the Undead, the Aengudaemonic Descension will heed its place for drastic happenings and events. (For those unaware, this was an idea started by Benboboy that has been widely accepted amongst the staff; GMs and LMs with the assistance of other teams take on a specific Aengul, Daemon, or otherwise and write and execute a plotline with their given deity. This will positively and negatively effect the mortal races and their world, so expect quite a bit of mix up of impact from them.)

With this post, it’s also a signing off for the Undead. We had good times, bad times, and all sort of shenanigans in between. Regardless, we (most of us ^-^) enjoyed our time and would like to thank you all for suffering through our wrath, be it IC or OOC.

For this, I’d like to give a few shoutouts to all the former Undead and our assistants. LMs, ETs, GMs, Devs, and MTs; you’re numerous but still appreciated. Thanks for your work and dedication, guys and gals!:

-Kale_Foreseth / 501warhead / _Dragur_

-AllenTheGreat

 

- Kowaman

-Goldrim

-Xiryks / Grunmin

-Zezimus

-Wolfdwg123

-ventios

-Baronvo / FideiDefensor

-_Urasept_

-Kowaman

-Gaiusmarius8

-Tentoa

-Heerozero

 

-MephistoJoe

-Cybersick

-CaptainSheepy

-Z3r05t4r

-Zarsies

-obskaterkid

-epic_raccoon / BubblesAndEpic

-mylimo7

-brodz1

-luchian

-mthdominator

-Joe_Blackman

-Kahzo

-Tsuyose

-ryno2

-30326

-Dizzy771

-Benboboy

(Yes, I thank myself)

 

[Zarsies 6795]

[[First, nooblets. Also RIP]]

[Wendigo 786]

Wow nice read..

Edit: AHHH thought I was gona be first :(

[Joe_Blackman 253]

Good read, Zarsies.

I'm sad the Undead are gone now, I no longer have infinite saturation.

[๖ۣۜ§osa (E.G.I.E.) 520]

Awesome read Zarsies, I wonder what future events will follow with this drastic change.

[Samson Option 9652]

 

Thank you.

[Keldrith 717]

It was so fun being Undead, I am really happy that I got the chance to be a Server Antagonist! I am very honored. I am so glad that I met so many people and I got so much fun RP from this whole thing. It took a few months of constant work and dedication to become an Undead, and then another few months of work afterwards. All in good fun. Farewell Undead, Cheers!

[_Sug 2809]

It was a pleasure serving.

Edited July 13, 2018 by The Redneck

[Sister Sequoia 438]

RIP Father Grove, it was a blast building the ruined grove and dropping subtle hints along the way.  Good luck to everyone as they move forward from here.

 

Big thanks to the Undead for coordinating on this event, hope you enjoyed your last hurrah~

[Peanut Butter Jelly 24]

Great...I jusrt came back to the server and the undead get removed ._.

[AGP 3169]

rip

 

9/1/14 never forget

[VampsWillDie 76]

The Willow Dryad, Magissa, sits somewhere in the grove, safely. Her tree wrapped about her child-like form. She rocks back and forth, whimpering and muttering. "s-Stupid druids..." She hugs her bonzai. "S-stupid...stupid druids...can't...can't even protect their own trees...d-don't worry..." She whispers to her tree. "I won't let them mess you up...I won't...D-don't be sad...I-I'm sure...maybe...there's something left of the big tree...seeds...something..." She shakes her head, before falling still against the tree, seeming everything like a mass of shrubs to anyone who didn't give her a good look.

 

(so what even happened to Iblees? Is he dead? Gone forever? :o)

Edited February 7, 2015 by VampsWillDie

[Katherine1 362]

The aftermath had been chaos. With the regrouping of the druids in Fiandra, Leyun had to go searching for herbs for the wounded. There was no denying, though, that while it was needed, it was to keep her occupied. After all, once she had nothing to occupy her, she was left with the horror that had happened, and once she was alone, she let herself drop to the ground as the tears began to flow freely, turning into an uncontrollable sobbing. There was a lot to cry for. The loss of the grove, and of the Aspect Stones... and she cried for the death of her sister.

[Rivk Zavadsky 700]

(((((

)))))))

((I liked the undead but i didn't like them sometime, although some battles were cool these undead might be the antag that are forgot about.))

[ThumperJack 927]

((Delete Post please

Edited February 8, 2015 by Grumpimus Prime