Shadowy

Erwin van Aert shivers

Artwork by Juan Barea (Blasphemous) ⸻⸻⸻ ☩ ⸻⸻⸻ "What is it you see before you?" "A presence of God." "There are fires in Heaven." - "And there are fires in Hell." "..." "As above, so below." ⸻⸻⸻ ☩ ⸻⸻⸻ The errant stared into the pyre. He let its blistering heat wash over his plate, let it claim him. Then, the world sheared apart. The air turned to dust. The stone beneath his boots simply ceased to be. A suffocating pitch. The errant, lost. His eyes spasmed blindly in the void. His lungs betrayed him, drawing in dead, empty ash. Choking. Then light, a blinding thing. The air was heavy, stagnant. Ground, rough and hewn. It was all gilded and bejeweled. Riches and splendor stretching beyond the horizon. All wrong. A cough. Once, twice, thrice. And finally, a fresh breath. The errant pushed himself upward, and met his mentor's gaze. Silence. Absolute, ringing silence. There was wind, and gale, but it carried no sound. It was a gilded emptiness. And so they walked. They marched, the errant ahead. His mentor watched. Not all were empty. Not all was lifeless. For there it was. Living and breathing, it saw them first. It already knew them. Formless as it was. A vile, smooth, and wet thing. A failure of flesh wrought form. It looked to the errant, and he looked back. In it, he saw himself—misshapen and groaning. Ugly. His features paled. He offered a look to his mentor, and met only silence. So they walked. They marched. "What is it you see before you?" ⸻⸻⸻ ☩ ⸻⸻⸻ A village, no different from the gilded stone that made the realm. Save for the numberless things shambling its streets. They too were gilded and bejeweled. Nearly featureless. Stepping into the village, the two were met with more silence. The things looked at them, disgusted and pointing. Then, they disappeared. Fear and exhaustion. It was all the errant could think of. His eyes fell upon a gilded doorway, and he slipped within. The housing offered them no shelter. For as they heard the shambling horde outside, all around them went to ruin. First, the roof. Then, the walls. Everything melted. Hot and scorching. Overwhelming. With nowhere to go, they went down. From a cellar door to a gilded tunnel. And from a gilded tunnel, to acrid walls. It was below where the true horror lay. The stone became flesh and limb. Faces looked to them, envious. Limbs reached out, grasping. Shapeless mounds shifted in the damp. Led by naught but torchlight, his legs nearly failed him. The sheer weight of his armor dragged him down, he nearly sank into the gore. He walked. At the edge of the light, slashing and cutting down any who dared reach. "There are fires in Heaven." - "And there are fires in Hell." ⸻⸻⸻ ☩ ⸻⸻⸻ Darkness. An absolute dark. Even the torch threatened to burn out. At least the silence was gone by then. Footsteps. Countless of them. Echoing just behind the two. Wet and vile. They were being hunted. Though it mattered not. For the thing before them was worse. Far worse. It was massive. A gilded, scaled mound, multiple heads extending out, each hosting a massive eye. It was toothless, its maws raw with exposed muscle. The head split, from crown to chin. The first of the heads lunged. The errant was flung backward, his steel slamming hard into the meat of the walls. TSSK-FLASH. He drew his rapier. The edge of the steel set ablaze as it cleared the scabbard, washing the tunnel of gore in a harsh, orange hue. He searched, looking for his mentor. Yet, nothing. It was just him and the creature. And the creature was fast. It surged forward again, the longest of the heads snapping toward the errant. Caught in the toothless mouth, he was hoisted upward, then brought down to smash into the ground. A shriek overwhelmed all noise. The flaming rapier drove deep into the flesh of its head, the fire hissing and burning at the fatty meat beneath the scales. It was not enough. The errant nearly broke then, his entire body rattling within his armor from the blunt, sheer impact as he met the floor again. Above him, burning, the thing reared back to break him once more. But it never earned its feast. Another flaming cleave lashed out from the dark, cutting deep and sending the creature reeling as it burnt. His gaze met with that of his mentor's again, and again. Silence. The creature died, melting underneath its own gilded chitin. Its body held the width of the tunnel from which they came, blocking all approach. So they walked. They marched. "As above, so below." ⸻⸻⸻ ☩ ⸻⸻⸻

Inquisitor Beboon releases the sign, watching it hang still in the air, just beneath the head of Pierre von Kronen. He gives a slow, rattling breath and a brief nod of acknowledgement to the completed labor. Pivoting about on blood stained heels, he walks away. The work had been done, at least for today.

Username: ShadowyLord Character Name: Erwin van Aert Affiliation: The Empire of Man Desired Rank: Vanguard Which games will you be attending: First two.

Halrik kneels in the mud, wrapping his thick arms under Martius to lift the dead prince of Blackvale from the dirt. The man's blood immediately soaks into Halrik's padding and streaks thick across the bright steel of his breastplate. He heaves the body over the back of his horse with an aching grunt. "It is time to return home, old dog." he mutters simply, pulling himself up into the saddle.

The Skulltaker brought his gauntlet down against the face of his tower shield, striking the heavy steel in a rhythm akin to a war drum until the metal warped beneath his fist. "KNEEL TO THE MANDATE!" the demon bellowed, thick strings of boiling phlegm snapping from his helmet. "OBEY, OR BE FLAYED!"

The Skulltaker prepares his best suit

At least he's being honest.

Halrik van Aert let out a short, satisfied laugh, a single mina flipping through his fingers. "This here is the life, eh? Nothing finer than a bit of good news to get a man's heart racing."

Halrik van Aert smiled the sun's smile

What’s your Minecraft account name?: Shadowylord What timezone are you in?: IDT (I am from israel) How old are you?: 14 Are you aware the content and interactions on this server may not be appropriate for children under the age of 13? : I understand that Have you read and agreed to the rules?: Yes, I have What’s the rule you agree with the most?: "Do not advertise other forums or server" Are there any rule(s) that confuse you or don’t make sense? (if so we can help clear it up!): I understand all the rules. How did you find out about Lord of the Craft?: I was told about it by KZDesigns and ZoruaTheShinyFox Link(s) to past Whitelist Applications (If applicable): I didn't have any past applications Have you logged into the server yet? (You cannot be whitelisted without logging in at least once): I did. Definitions Feel free to Google the answers or use our wiki definitions as a reference, but make sure that you write the write them in your own words, not those of another website or person! Plagiarizing will result in the automatic denial of your application! What is Roleplaying?: Roleplaying is the act of taking in a character, playing the character as it should be, movement, sound, speech and so on. What is Metagaming?: Metagaming is using ooc knowledge to benfit you IC, For example, learning OOC someone wishes to kill you and then bring Information IC and going on to kill that person without reason. What is Power-emoting (Powergaming)?: Powergaming is when you do something out of your skill range, most of the time it is unrealistic. For example, a old man doing a backflip x5 and then sending several slashes with his cane and killing someone way stronger, powergaming. In-Character Information Now you actually make your character - be creative but stay reasonable! Make sure they make sense and that they follow lore. Try to come up with a character that you actually want to play. Character’s name: Xzavier Bred Character’s sex: Male Character’s race: Human (Heartlander) Character’s age: 34 Biography (This is one of the most important sections of the application. Please take your time and make it a decent paragraph long. Read up on your character's race and be sure to add at least one accurate reference from the server lore): Xzavier Bred and Nicholas Bred were both born within the Capital of the Kingdom of Lorraine-Savoy, Metz. Metz is upon the very great city where many heartlanders strive. Both came from the unknown origins of a an unknown family, most of them were bakers, hunters and so on. They lived in a small house, the family of the Bred. The Bred Family were not known at all, but it was quite known they’d think so. The two brothers were raised well, matured with some skills known from their father. The father and mother had told them to set off to Adelburg in hopes of starting their own little shop. Both trotted there way against the horses they mounted, costing them a lot. Mid way of the journey, they had fallen. Now at the location, striving to live amongst the others folks of their land, starting an adventures and having the best time they can together. However, where did I go? Being the oldest brother, I have to keep well of Nicholas and have him work for things, I can’t let him fend off himself, not yet. Of course. Personality Traits: Strict, angry, hot headed and tends to mostly not joke around. Ambitions: Starting a shop that runs good with my IC brother. Strengths/Talents: Communication skills are good, decent muscularity, slightly good at hand to hand combat, able to remember things well. Weaknesses/Inabilities: Those that are kind, jokes, those that can overpower him. Appearance: He has a black beard, black hair, pale skin and a mustache. He stands around 6’3” feet. Skin: