Frostfire #4

[ThatFunkyBunch 2818]

Razlat

[!] Grave Robbers are met with a terrifying sight. They claimed something, but it was not a feeling of peace.

The Eye of Iblees Looms over Aevos.

 

Spoiler

 

 

Aevos Cowers.

The Eye Watches.

The Hand Acts.

The Gold One Guides.

Hear our challenge

You all Claim to be Darkspawn Slayers yet only gather when the true Ythaen of you rise. 

 

You speak of fighting us yet cower away.  You rip each other apart when we are away.

 

You will lose this war. You are not worthy of the deific pacts you carry.

I am Kiel Vuakudah. I have been here since the days of Atlas. I have walked among the elves, the dwarves, the orcs, the humans. I have traversed the Spirit Realm. Spoken to the first of my lineage. Now my gaze is to the cosmos of divinity around us.

I have seen but one truth, Might Makes Right. Bravely you scaled down into the depths of the Hexicanum, the Legion Remains. The Eye Watches, The Hand Acts. The Queen rises, Naele. Odux of Azul Agmok. Hear our challenge.

Naele, I dub thee The Hand of Ibless. For you alone have pushed this spearhead forward. The great plan is upon us Azulytes.

What you saw during the age of Shinji's reign was merely the beginning. This is our declaration of War upon Mundas. Our Forts, already spread across the lands in preparation for this coming. Ye wretched souls. Darkspawn, undead, those scared to die. Come, come lay your arms for us. Come fight, and achieve ascension. 

You need only trust The Gold One and the Queen of Ice. 

 

Spoiler

 

 

[Turbo_Dog 3569]

Daal scuttles about inn the icy lair. He was living his best life “EEEEEEVVVVVIIILLLLLL!”

[Apohet 1265]

"GLORY TO THE RED PRINCE!" screamed a random Maehr.

[Jihnyny 5233]

Tiderippa prepares his training arc

[KidKrinkles 2044]

 

Victor Rorin had found himself in a predicament—one that he had walked into willingly.

 

The ranger-knight stood knee-deep in ice, his hands politely folded one over the other, like a houseguest too meek to speak out of turn or out of place. His long cigarette hung from the opening of his helmet, emitting a dull, mellow glow—the only warmth in a cold, icy den. He felt the ice tremble beneath him, threatening to swallow or impale him. But he stood still, rewarded with a stay of execution. An equally cold voice, befitting the type of creature that dwells in such a den, rasped from its resting place.

 

"Is he part of the wager?"

 

Victor did not answer. He stayed silent and steadfast. He had ridden his Raguk compatriot away from Celia'nor, across Aevos through frost and snowdrifts, granting passage to the Uruk so he might fight a Frost Witch. Just as Conan-Thegn had stood by and watched Victor fight for his life and nearly die, Victor committed himself to the same principle.

 

He. Stayed. Silent.

 

"He is not," the Raguk answered, giving Victor some relief.

"... unless... you allow higher stakes?"

 

Victor's knee-jerk reaction was to boil with anger, but he had committed himself to his role. The ranger-knight had willingly walked directly into the belly of the beast. It was his decision. He accepted that his life was forfeit—it always was. After all, the purpose of a swordsman is to always choose death.

 

"He is not part of the wager," a new voice interjected, motherly yet cold, befitting the matriarch of this dark corner of the world.

"See that you take a portion of his warmth, sister,"

 

the voice continued after a pause.

 

"A gesture of our good faith to our guest."

 

Victor couldn't see the speaker, but, the voice alone was like a stone pressing down upon him. He felt paralyzed.

 

 

So came the Spider.

 

From behind his helmet, his lone eye narrowed. The room shrank, even in the presence of the eastern figure next to him, and his malicious gaze. The form that approached was something dark and tormented. Victor watched the hag, dressed in a kimono, fold herself unnaturally. Her wicked limbs twisted like gnarled branches, more appropriately like an arachnid. She skittered forward, insects creeping from her mouth, nose, and eyes, mirroring her movements along her own body. She approached, her bones cracking into place, and appraised the knight.

 

The threats of the eastern man were muffled, filtering through Victor's ears. He vaguely understood that his life was being wagered against the outcome of the duel: ice witch versus Raguk. But Victor was horrified and disgusted by the creature that crawled before him. It occupied the forefront of his thoughts. He focused as the boreal hag spoke.

 

"Calm down, Shirunai-dono... He is a friend for now... kekekek."

 

The Spider produced... meat. Non-descript. Likely a person. It was rotted—the fetid, desecrated remains of a life once lived, now both spoiled and spoils. The huntsman merely eyed it, emptily.

 

"Eat," it ordered, shoving the meat toward his face.

But Victor remained steadfast and upright. His lips twitched, his nose flared, and his eyelids trembled—not with fear, but with fury.

 

"Ah'm afraid ah've eaten already; thank you," he replied, his tone flat and disaffected despite the disturbing events.

 

 

The eastern warrior drew his katana, lifting it menacingly toward Victor's face as both spoke at him. RUDE. NO MANNERS. RUDE. WICKED. Their words bounced in his head, through one ear and out the other.

 

Victor clicked his tongue. "... ah'll make'a deal with ye. A' can grant ye somethin' beyond compre'ension." The duo seemed interested at first. Victor even rolled his shoulder. "Pull out ma' sword. T'ere'sa powerful spirit inside." Despite his position, he knew he had little room for negotiation. For his safety, this was his only hope... but if they could be trusted, whatever they did, he would... hopefully... not die.

 

"No," the Spider replied, her tone hungry, rasping from her corpse-like throat. Then it was... dark. Dreadful. The swordsmen had, in that moment, done something he did not know he could do. He embraced emptiness. Silence; within himself. He tuned out: for the worst of what came.

 

 

 

 

̸̡̡̡̙̜̙̰̬̠͔͎̗̱͙̌͋̓̌͋͗̌̇̀̄̍͊̏̕͠ͅͅ"̵̢̰̱͇̞͔̼̺̗͈͕͕͜͝Ţ̷͓̮̖͖̩͓̖͔̳͎͎̪͉̔́͌́͗͊̔̓̀͝Ẽ̶̢̢̞͕̪̝͓̫̮̪̫͈̭̮̳̦͂̇́̇̏͒͑͆̽̏͂̿͆̑̚͜͝L̵̛̳͍̗̭̙͕͋̿̀̄̓͐̓͜L̵̨͈͉̯͉̼͖̯͑̉̓̽̑͋͂͗̂͆͠ ̷̡̛̫̖̻̥͕̎͑̈́͠M̴̡̧̪̜̤̦͎̎͐̊͊̋̉E̶̡̫̝̠̽ ̸̝̪̲͇͒̐͂̔͑͆̅͂͒͒͌͘̕͠Y̶̼͐̐͒̓̎͑̅Ǫ̷̛̼̲͙̙̲͚̙̺͈̣̊̾ͅŲ̴͍̰̱̘͕̻͕̘̗̼̦̝̰̜͂͐R̶͕̓ ̶̳͙̘̪̎̀͂́̈́̎̈͒N̵͉̲͍̄́̽̓̽̉̾̈̈́͗̿̉̕̕̚A̷̬̬̲͖̥̐̀͋̌͛̐͌͐͒͗̆̈́̑̚̕͝͠M̸̢̯̩̩̞͔̜̣̦̝͖͂̽̅͒͂̃͗̈̄̊͌̊͆͋̈͘E̷̡̬̜̤̘̗̔̋͒̊͑̏̽̾,̵̨̹͔̞̍ ̶̼͑̅͋̄̾̿͂̄͒̏͛̌̌͐̚K̸̘͉̫̓͆̆͛͒̔̆̇̇̐͘͝N̷̨͎̻̬͍͔͓̤͚̦̰̈́̀͑͊Ǐ̷̩̮̣̪͖͔̮̖̼̯G̴̢̨̯͙̹͕̭̖͂̓̒̍̐͗͐̔͌͊̌̒̽̔͋̚͝ͅḨ̶̙͓̳͇͎̰̝̟̀͒̈͐̅̐͑͆̌͜͜͠͝T̷̡̛͈̺̣̱̖̳͆͐́̃͊̎̂͛̋͐̀̓̕͜ͅ.̸̨͓̞̣͙̦̬̱̃"̴̡̠͕̦͓͉͍̫̱̜̘̥͚̌ͅ

 

 

 

 

The words came from the Spider's mouth, but Victor felt them in his face—specifically in his forehead. He was in and out, trying to meditate, to place himself away from the cold, the pain, and the darkness he had walked into. He felt the electricity of the piercing pain in his head—and not only that, but his soul—and the realization of the difference between true cold and the total lack of warmth. A chill went through him, down to the very strands of his character.

 

His helmet had been pried off. The long hand, with its broken nails and bugs running across its skin, pressed against him, the insects skittering across his face. But even as the sensations surged through him, he maintained his composure and focus. In walking to death, the man had found a true zen he had been searching for.

 

His name did not come. Behind his grit teeth, the butt of his pinched cigarette, and the veins popping in his eyes at the horrific sensations running through him, he found his resolve. His tongue moved, his lips parting, as he hissed to the duo. A spiteful threat; or declaration.

 

"M-mata i... itsuka... au kono ni naru darou."

We will meet again, sometime.

 

The Spider's piercing fingers withdrew from his head, leaving a brand upon it. Victor felt electricity shoot between both ears as his consciousness quickly faded. His legs crumpled, held in place by ice, and the last thing he could hear was...

 

"Know my name, Igarashi Jorogumo."

 

His nightmares were of that—a woman, her head and limbs spinning, pursuing him with a tide of bugs. They met him in unconsciousness. They met him when he slept. They did not relent.

 

 

It was merely hours later that Victor joined the grave-robbers—a mysterious ruin and a planned expedition. Stones that told stories of infernal pasts, laden with the bones of adventurers who existed before the ruins themselves.

 

It was there Victor eyed the same Coven that had held him prisoner only hours earlier. It was there that he watched his blasting potion once more careen away from its intended target before the Black Crusade, as he had taken to call them. It was there he fled the site, a grave robber, and narrowly escaped with his life.

 

And amidst the smoke that circled and choked the ruins, the hellish voice rang out from the ruin's portal in devilish rapture, expressing its joy, its delight, and praise to the dark devotees. It was there that Victor was blessed thrice, for his life, as ice javelins whirled by. But as he fell over the ruins, narrowly dodging the javelins, his eye caught the sight of his nightmares. In his nightmares, he felt powerless. Unable to flee. Those feelings pursued him to the waking visage of his tormentor.

 

But.

 

Those feelings simply did not outweigh the boiling contempt he had found. A contempt he thought of, alone with his thoughts, his hand tracing the alien mark on his forehead.

 

[lemonke 6014]

The necromantic laugh cackled at the memory of that numendil knight. She soon gathered her enemies—the heroes that were destined to destroy her once and for all.

[Faerilien 226]

13 hours ago, KidKrinkles said:

"Calm down, Shirunai-dono... He is a friend for now... kekekek."

 

The Acolyte, would once more meet him on the battlefield, as a mortal man himself he pitied him. 

 

"Poor man.. to be mortal and so foolish as to cross our path not once but twice..."

 

The acolyte would hiss to The Spider as they returned to the empty halls of the North, in a corner of the great hall would be his Katana, still stuck in the ground with a familiar helmet put on its hilt like a head on a pike...

 

"He now bears our mark.." 

 

His hand moved to where he bore the same blackened mark seared into his flesh.

 

"Once the time for ascension nears I shall seek the knight out.. I shall offer him a.. gift..." 

 

The soon-to-be snake hissed through the halls, insanity befalling him as he started cackling.. vivid cackles that echoed through the frozen North.

 

Spoiler

@KidKrinkles That post is insane. good RP! 

 @lemonke