The End of the Palebeast [PK]

[Slorbin 2932]

 

Spoiler

 

 

A Sorvian stared upon the pool within Tahariae's hallowed ground. What stared back was her former self. Jenom peered upwards towards the unnamed figure inhabiting her body, a secondary iote grown of the last redshroud. Their red lips had curled into a frown. That accursed throne they sat on had turned their form into something horrifying. Unable to cope with the truth beyond the veil. None may escape the void - it binds us in its eternity. There was no higher realm - if the theory of the Divine Play were true, she had already witnessed its actors in the Chromaweave. They were none the wiser to their role. The dream had no dreamer - As Man-Maker said, the dreamer had died. And none may awaken once-more.

 

The pool shifted. Necromantic energies infect the purity of the mirror, showing a horror: The truth. The form grew. The mask is removed, her hair molds with the striped shirt, all white and red removed to create a being of pure black. Before the Sorvian stood the necromancer. The first prophet of Xionism, he who has achieved True Death. Abdiel stood beyond the onyx-tainted reflection. An amalgamation of what was before and after Man-Maker: The Archwraith and the Omen-Prince. A grin grew across his decrepit smile, yellowed teeth bared to the clay construct. Its mouth slowly opened - and it spoke. Words unheard through the realm of light - but lips read, by she who read.

"You are the Palebeast."

As the Sorvien hurled through the air towards the Venator, she considered such. Her quest to send all the souls to the Death-Dream was one of hunger. And it is cut short, before the plans even began. This is the end of her life. Her Anima flows out her punctured chest, and escape is impossible now. The world will remain stagnant. It will not recoalesce. She prepared herself for one final, futile strike.

 

Spoiler

It was her time. I was pierced in the chest in the PK event, leaving my anima leaking. Before I could run and heal, an absolute chad of a demon threw me right back at the Venator and I died. I've played this character for many years, and never found a way to really end them.

I decided, I might as well. I'll miss playing Her, but all the connections I've had, save for a few new ones, are dead. 

I think this is the first time I've PK'd a long-running character of mine... Or ever. I don't really know how to feel. Relieved? Regret? I'm not sure. I knew it would happen some time during this event.

 

[Security_ 2287]

The Trapper stepped over the broken doll, paying it no mind as the war with the Light continued.

 

[TheHuntedRaven 100]

Gul Zu'Pzym had woven their way through the battle to get to the fallen Sorvian. Their attention less upon the mass gathering forming upon the Venator or the Prophet as others sought to lay claim to killing those which shined in light. They grabbed onto Jenom, took their remains off the field, then secured what seemed important. "I never got to make amends." Gul lamented. Though, now was certainly not the time for regrets.

[Phantuhm 193]

[Xergarok 811]

Barrowlord Khôr was thrown off the platform by his Sister, narrowly avoiding the devastating attack of the Heretical Judge. Armor shedding a layer of morion crystals, it lay in the grass for but a moment... It missed the sound of them shattering completely, crawling up the platform once more to channel its arcane powers. When it learned of what had transpired, it felt no rage. Instead, it uttered a promise; "A new lineage of Clay shall be sculpted. This I swear. Your relics shall be bestowed unto them, and they shall make me proud."