The Stolen Prison

[Raptorious 1899]

11th of the First Seed, 1513

 

 

The sun set as the day grew cold and the night rolled in, silver white stars shimmering brightly above, illuminating the night sky. Mages of old, wise, and powerful convened, conversing amongst one another.Their muttering lasts for roughly an hour as they agree on one thing, to take what the dwarvenkin hold dear and then, they depart.

 

As they delved deep into the lands of the sons of Urguan, their robes billowing in the wind, their staves held before them. They descended deep into the tunnels of beneath the mountain, seeking the ancient dwarven relic that held within, the power to bend minds and warp reality. Only a stone door lay between them and their prize, ancient and ornate.

 

 

Standing before the stone gateway, the three mages stood, one black, one jade and one red. Their palms slit, their blood spilt, the three mages cast their accursed ritual, twisting their own power, their own life to fuel their spell. The red mist swirled around and around, viciously spitting and sparking, turning an infernal green. Their power at it’s height, the blood mage released a violent blast of energy, canonning through the stone wall, shattering it as if it were glass.

 

 

The three mages stepped across the bridge, passing over the cloud of dust and rubble they had left in their wake. And there it lay before them, the Mind Prison, their prize, their Kal’Varaak. Monstrous and green it towered over everything in the antechamber, lording over it’s prison.

 

 

Firing off bolts and blasts of their magics, the chains eventually came loose, the vast steel shattering beneath their arcane might, the power of mana, life and blood too much for it to withstand. It swung and creaked and the Kal’Varaak swung with it, swaying from side to side like a pendulum. The red mage, tired and weakened, watched his companions as they summoned their dark powers, black tendrils of smoke and ash sprouting from their arms, like great gargantuan tentacles, their supreme power only fueled further by dark powers.

 

 

And so they took it, from deep beneath the mountains of Urguan’s kin. The Kal’Varaak, now theirs.

 

 

The gates of heaven beckon.

[Tsuyose 3285]

"We will ascend."

 

"We will pierce the heavens."

 

"We will claim the Throne of God."

[Hobolympic 1093]

Balek stands where the Kal'Varak once laid chained to the ancient dwarven hall, legionnaires surrounding him, scratching their heads in confusion.

 

"Search fer evidence, fer whoeveh, er wot eveh did this!" he commands. As time passes, murmurs of suspects and theories resonate through the halls, with no actual evidence left in the crystal's wake.

 

"Defilers!" the High Prophet roars, the clergy's most prized artifacts having been lost.

 

The Grand King paced back and forth, clutching his hand into a fist, tightening harder and harder with each passing minute. "Dese reckless mongrels, dose 'oo dare challenge da wrath ov Urguan, 'is fureh unleashed, dey shant be granted da merceh ov death. Eh thousand years ov pain upon dem!"

 

((http://orig04.deviantart.net/d9ed/f/2012/187/8/a/dwarven_king_by_mictones-d565yfs.jpg))

 

"FOIND DEM!"

 

[ThumperJack 927]

Demagol storms into the Khaz'Ordum, yelling "Dorkadrel! Sharpen yer blades, string yer bows! Weh will 'unt befer weh leave t'is land!"

[Backup Lago 320]

((Hey guys, can you PM me the details on this rather impressive heist? The reason they had no guards is because it's impossible (now amended to almost impossible) to steal, and I can help you iron out the details before the inevitable attempts to OOC it back.

 

That, and this presents some very interesting opportunities.))

[Hiebe 2493]

(Pulling a Hiebe, I love it)

[Dohvi 622]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.