Let The Sky Fall

[spqrSancus 175]

((One song fits all))

 

http://www.listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=DeumyOzKqgI

 

     It is a cold and wintry night in Abresi. All was quiet, all lights were out. But perhaps, if one were still awake, lying upon their bed and quiet in thought, one might hear a cold wind blowing up. And then the whispers of a soul in torment. You might then roll around in your bed, desperate to stop hearing the whispers and get to sleep. But they would stay with you, until at last, you cannot bear it any longer, and you look outside the window. And hear the jangle of chainmail, the rasp of a blade being drawn. And you would know what it is. After all, it has appeared before. But this time, it comes with a distinct sense of malice and anger, not unlike it's two more horrible brothers.

 

     A glowing mist swirls in a spiral about one point atop the stairs, but it swirls with a slow and angry malice. A cold malice. It feels to you, that this may be the calm before the storm. For it does not swirl like it used to, quickly funneling into a pillar. This is the hateful pacing of one planning something horrible. You wake up, fast. Grabbing blade and armour, you stand. Someone had to alert the guards. What could it be planning?

 

     By the time you have put on your armour and come downstairs, it had tightened into a column. It seemed to be relishing this moment, and you shudder with the malice. You run for the Teutonic embassy.

 

     You never get there.

 

     The pillar erupts into a napalm of ice cold spectral flame, and the temperature drops intensely. Falling to the ground, your last thought before you black out, is, "This won't be pleasant."

 

     The flame settles down, leaving behind the Graven Hunter, this time armour and blade already manifested. Not without mercy, he drags the poor man back to the tavern, leaving him unconscious on the floor by the fire. But then he begins what he came here to do. Send Abresi a message.

 

 

     The napalm had awoken a lot of the residents, and they too felt the sheer malice. A few brave ones thought to get the priests, but, tonight, the Sariants would stay in the embassy, for the malice felt almost physical.

 

     As they watched from the windows, he looks up, eyes revealed, unlike so often. Meeting one Sariant's eyes, he wills his very soul upon him, and he watches as the Sariant cries out in pain, averting his eyes as others rush to help him. He laughs, a cold and harsh laugh, tonight not filled with the normal friendliness he would show to mortals. No. Tonight, it was one of a malice pure as hell.

 

    He lowers his sword, carving deep into the stone;

 

    I leave you to my prey. Thus is your curse, for you have attacked one who might have helped you. Such is the curse of Hunter.

 

   You call us damned, and rightly so. But in your dedication, so are you, and when you die, you will be one of us. And then I will laugh, and the Hunt will begin. Such is my oath.

 

     And he faded away, dispersing. And as he leaves, you hear the harsh and cold laugh of his, the one that sounds like a raging wildfire of ice. Then he is gone, and the only reminders left are the notes carved upon the ground.

 

((OOC Note: Myself and grim have decided to avoid Abresi during peak times. He'll also be more prone to letting other Gravens play for a bit before really beginning a hunt, or disappearing and leaving soldiers to do his work for him. So if a Graven comes during peak times... Well, figure it out. :P))

[The Great Mongol Khan 1110]

Valon is knelt, his sword's point to the cold hard stone. His hands rest on the pommel, his eyes shut in peace. Before him stands a cross at an alter in a dark room. The chaos can be heard through the thick stone walls. His eyes open suddenly as his prayer is interrupted. He hears the cries of man and laughter of a demonic spirit. The sword that once scraped the stone is now at alert, it's master stands there looking through the opening in the wall and to Abresi. "Time for my hunt to begin."

[spqrSancus 175]

Valon is knelt, his sword's point to the cold hard stone. His hands rest on the pommel, his eyes shut in peace. Before him stands a cross at an alter in a dark room. The chaos can be heard through the thick stone walls. His eyes open suddenly as his prayer is interrupted. He hears the cries of man and laughter of a demonic spirit. The sword that once scraped the stone is now at alert, it's master stands there looking through the opening in the wall and to Abresi. "Time for my hunt to begin."

 

((And this is why he hates you. Stupid Orenian soldiers and nobles... You're just going to make him mad. :P BRING IT ON!))

[The Fact Core 511]

The Lonely Druid feels a disturbance in the force.

[The Great Mongol Khan 1110]

((And this is why he hates you. Stupid Orenian soldiers and nobles... You're just going to make him mad. :P BRING IT ON!))

((cometh in thy direct brother))

[DragoonCrow 346]

Crowley turns to his brothers, handing out quivers upon quiver of holy-water tipped bolts. Giving all of them a reassuring smile and a pat on the back, he picks up his own crossbow. Dubbed "Endslayer" after it ended the life of an endermage in the remnants of the Vonslichten facility. Sighing sadly as he doesn't have access to the TAC-Suits, he prepares for the next time these...heretical..beings appear. 

[hellfiazz 879]

Buubztik grins as he begins hearing more and more of these Graven manifestations. Whilst others tell tales of their horrific experiences with them, he tells them of the third time he demanifested a Graven.

 

For that was the time when he received the stare of a Graven, the one named Warden, and he laughed in it's face. He was presented with the sight of a thousand souls in eternal anguish, and he turned their pain into his weapon, the fuel for his bloodlust. As he ripped the Graven apart with his bare hands, he stared into it's eyes, laughing all the while, and when he did so, he made the Graven feel an emotion. But much more importantly, he made it feel one specific emotion, that is known to all, but the Gravens thought themselves immune to.

 

He made it fear him.

[spqrSancus 175]

((Orcsies... All the Gravens best run if they see one. D: :P And seriously Crowley? Heavens, I'm half thinking of asking Grim if I can make a Teuton Graven on the side. Just to show you all that you guys can be damned too. :P))

[_Grim1_ 28]

((Teuton Graven are fine. Knock em down a notch or two, spqr. It'll be hilarious.))

 

For the first time in nearly three months, the Abresi night seems quiet. No rattling echo of chains or ghostly voices haunt the night, and the grim spectre of Warden is not to be seen.

 

But eyeless sockets watch from the shadows, always, and for a moment it seems that all men and women of Abresi hear the same voice all at once.

 

"Those who slay are slain. Those who thieve, their souls I steal away. All who would defy justice will feel vengeance, and the touch of my beloved chains."

 

The night air is cool, but not chill. The Graven known as Warden seems to have disappeared...but seemings are uncertain things at best, and the shadows beckon as always.

[spqrSancus 175]

((Shall I re-apply for another? I would certainly love to... Just grab a char, make it a Teuton alt,PK it and then get ready ye darned Teuts! (<3 you all, wouldn't do this otherwise. :P)

 

     It seems... Quiet in Abresi. Yet do the Graven appear but seldom, and when they do, it is often that few should ever chance to see it. And yet, there is something off... Horribly off.

 

     The notes have faded, slightly eroded by the water of the snow. But soon after, at night, those who come by might see it glow in the dark. And yet, no matter how often those who come by attempt to fill it in, the glow would remain, spelling out it's words.

 

     Those who dare to venture outside of Abresi, just outside of it's walls, away from prying eyes, might catch an eerie glow in the distance. But it fades as soon as you see it. And when you go check, there is naught there.

 

     The ring of chainmail and rasp of a blade is still sometimes heard in the distance. Sometimes even a laugh like wildfire and blizzard combined. But Hunter has never since reappeared in Abresi, and the promise might linger on your minds. I LEAVE YOU TO MY PREY, it had said. And you wonder, if perhaps, strings are being pulled, and if it is only the calm before the storm...

 

Before the scales tilt, and the Damned come in droves.

[Moot 1719]

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