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[Semi-Closed RP] Rise of the Aeons

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FilFire

Senior Member

10-10-2012

Quote:
MysticalRaven:
If those who had seen the dream followed it and walked through the great snow plains, the sound of battle could be heard several miles from the circle of stones. As they drew closer to the stone, the battle roars and clashing of steel could be heard clearly, blood stained much of the now crimson snow, simply walking through a few feet of it was enough to drench ones clothing in blood. But something was wrong, where were the bodies?

Off in the distance the stones could be seen, all of the warriors who had come were currently surrounding something, trying to kill it. Yet the screams of agony and cracking of bones did not come from whatever they were trying to kill, but from the warriors themselves as great fountains of blood gushed from the severed arteries inflicted upon them by whatever creature was in the center of the circle. What ever it was, it was no man or beast.

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Sangius watched from above as the first warriors had arrived, simple humans following a vision... Were they all so mindless?

As Sangius lowered itself from its position, something changed about the humans, though they could not see the Aeon it was as though simply being in its presence threw them all into a frenzy. Almost at once they broke out into all out battle, there were no allies, brothers killing brothers, sons killing fathers. The bloodbath lasted several hours until there was one clear warrior who was superior to them all. It was as though he were like a ghost, one second he would be blocking a blow with nothing but his dagger, the next he was gone only to come from nowhere and cut a tendon crippling whoever had just tried to fight him. He never struck to kill, avoiding killing blows until the last possible moment to sever an artery sending a shower of blood across the snow.

The bodies how ever... They began to fade away once they were dead... Where to was anyones guess...

Sangius turns his gaze to the south as another warrior approaches, perhaps this one will be strong enough to kill the tiring assassin.


Drak has been wandering for a while now, since he was in the east of Demacia and his goal is all the way in northern Freljord. While in Freljord he speeds up, since this landscape is much more like his homeland he is better at surviving in it. He sees a lot of warriors similar to him, some moving in the same direction, but so far he has avoided combat. If others were here with the same reason, it must mean his dream really wasn't a normal one. But that still doesn't give him any information about what kind of vision it was. A premonition? A warning? The only way of finding out is going to the circle of stones where the figure had called for him, and apparently all these others.

When he comes close he starts hearing the sounds of battle, and in response he takes out his axes. When he arrives at the beginning of the crimson snow he frowns. What kind of slaughter must there be up ahead to cause this much blood to cover the land? It must have happened the last couple of days or even still going on, the blood being too fresh to be a result of an older battlefield. But where are the bodies? Even if this land had twice the amount of carrion eaters as his has -and thanks to the large amount of fighting in his land there's no lack of ravens and similar animals to feast on the remains- and they started eating the moment the battle ended, they couldn't have gotten rid of all the bodies required to create so much blood, and they would still have left the inedible stuff behind. Anyway, the sky would need to be darkened by those creatures even now, and while of course there are some flying and running around those are nowhere enough for this. Something very strange is going on up ahead. Was the vision a trap then? All those who he has seen coming here are warriors like him. Is there some kind of finger wiggler or demon at the stones, luring warriors here only to do this to them? He charges forward, ignoring the blood drenching his clothing. He has already come all the way here, so he isn't going to turn back now. He'll find out what is going on here, and if it is a trap he'll kill whoever is trying to trick him or go down fighting.

When he reaches the stones he watches all the warriors seemingly fighting something that however great their numbers is slaughtering them all. That is no work of a man or beast. This really must be a demon or even a god. He wonders what would be the best way to approach this, but the sight of such slaughter is causing his berserker blood to boil. So what if there is a demon there? When a true berserker is gripped by bloodlust, he is no longer a man either, but a demon straight out of hell come to slaughter anything in its path. He raises his axes and slams them together and roars before charging towards to fighters, moving with all the force and rage of a wild bull. His axes swing as he strikes down warrior after warrior, looking through a blood-red haze as he focuses on the centre of the carnage, not paying attention to the fading bodies. When he finally gets a clear view of what has been slaughtering all the warriors he roars again and charges, intending to ram right into the demon and throw it to the ground before decapitating it with both his axes.


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MysticalRaven

Senior Member

10-10-2012

Sangius watches as the new comer charges through the battle, cutting down all those around him as though they were nothing but wheat in the harvest.
The creature in the middle of the carnage was begining to slow, its movements becoming less ghost-like, every now and again it would be grazed by a blade. It began to bleed from the wounds only confirming it was nothing but a mortal.
As it deflected a blow the new warrior charges the almost immortal fighter with a roar that seems to shake the very ground they fought on. Slamming into the figure causes it to make a very feminine cry of pain as it's shoulder was thrown from its socket from the force. A massive blade impales the shoulder of the fighter her scream of pain is cut short as both axes from Drak cut through the neck decapitating her... Blood, now unable to be absorbed by the snow, begins to pool around the neck before the body fades away, the magic shielding her image fades to reveal a rather grotesque looking woman, disfigured by many scars criss-crossing her face.

A thunderous laugher could be heard as a huge figure looks down upon Drak, his ice cold eyes alight with bloodlust, his voice was so deep and powerful it was as though he spoke with the force of the earth itself,
"So it was but a mere woman!"

Gripping the huge sword the had been plunged into the womans shoulder he pulls it from the snow with ease and points it at Drak with one hand,
"Show me your strength!"
He swings the great two-handed sword directly at Draks head in an attempt to cleave him in two.

((I decided an assassin would not be a good match for a fight with your character Filly... This should be a brutal fight.))


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FilFire

Senior Member

10-10-2012

((Oh, I don't know. Watching a berserker get cut to ribbons while he tries to smash that assassin is also pretty nice. Especially if the berserker wins in the end.))

Drak smashes into the warrior, growling satisfied when it cries out in pain and its shoulder gets dislocated. He doesn't pay attention to the blade that pierces its shoulder as his axes both come around the decapitate the warrior, its head flying off. When its body becomes visible Drak barely notices through the blood haze that it was a female. When she had started to bleed it had become unlikely she was a real demon, but even if she was human it doesn't matter if she was male or female. She was a warrior who wasn't on his side in the battle, even though this fight doesn't seem to have any sides whatsoever. He looks around trying to find a new target when the huge figure approaches. He glares up at him Drak merely growls.

"I'll show you my strength when I rip out your guts and devour them in front of your eyes."

When the new enemy swings his huge sword Drak charges forward, intending to get into too close range for the sword to have any real effect and to slam right into the enemy. This one would probably not be affected as much by the charge but retreating would only give him more chance to swing that sword, and Drak won't be able to block that with two battle axes for long. While charging he swings his right axe at the arm holding the sword.


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MysticalRaven

Senior Member

10-10-2012

The huge warriors sword continues the deadly arc downwards as he lets rip a thunderous roar, if Drak continued is blind charge he would either be crushed by the hilt of the sword or cut in two. The huge blade was not as sharp as most, mainly killing by using raw brutal strength to force the dull blade into the enemy.


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FilFire

Senior Member

10-10-2012

Drak continues charging then before the sword can hit him jumps to the side of the warrior's unused arm, rolling through the snow and in one smooth motion standing upright again. Hopefully the warrior's giant swing has embedded the sword in the ground when Drak only just before contact dodged the strike. Drak charges again, now on the left of the warrior. He swings both of his axes while roaring, intending to chop of the warrior's left hand and to severely damage his left thigh.

((How big is the big guy exactly? Because right now I am imagining Drak only reaching to his chest.))


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MysticalRaven

Senior Member

10-10-2012

((I knew I missed out something... Drak reaching his chest is about right, he is wearing nothing but animal furs.))

The warriors sword burries itself in the crimson snow, grinning he watches Drak roll through the snow, he moves his meaty hand out of the way of the blow but purposely allows his thigh to be cut deep.

"Don't be coward! Fight like a Warrior! Not a rabbit!"

He roars once more as he releases his sword and brings his left hand down upon the axe that had just cut his thigh. He grips it and pulls Drak towards himself bringing his right fist around to slam into Draks face. It seemed he was about to try take on Drak with nothing but his bare fists with the intent to simply bludgeon him to death.


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FilFire

Senior Member

10-10-2012

Drak growls at the warrior.

"A rabbit would run away."

Drak head butts the right fist, blood dripping down his face as the skin on his forehead is damaged by the blow. If it wasn't for the fact that right now Drak would probably keep fighting even after having his limbs cut off the blow would have made him lose consciousness. The warrior now has hold of his left hand, but his right hand is still holding his other axe. He bites hard into the right fist that made contact with his forehead while bringing his right arm around, intending to bury his axe deeply into the warrior's stomach.


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SmileyDemon

Senior Member

10-10-2012

Beyond the cyclicality of time and in the darkness behind where the very stars lurk Ouroboros looks upon the sleeping Runeterra with its vast gaze. It does not see the physical world as any other would, it sees only patterns, cause and effect, projected into the past and future. Here, on this world, countless patterns end and begin; if one could apply such concepts to the threads of fate at all. They encircle one another, wheels within wheels, constantly morphing and moving inward and outside. Like a living work of art the threads bind the entirety of existence together and possess a striking beauty to Ouroboros. In this tapestry however some threads are disjointed, marred, and entangled in uncertainty. Seeing this, Ouroboros followed his own thread into the eternal returns of Runeterra to seek the one that would bring about the absolution of fate.

This agent slumbers within the clockwork city of Piltover, an orderly place of science and reason, a place where magic is understood rather than performed. Like a moth to flame Ouroboros follows the strands of fate into the city and is blinded by the sheer number of connecting fates that seem to converge there almost unnaturally. His mind’s eye is aglow at the majestic order that these few mortals have created. Ouroboros whispers out to the one whoms pattern align with his which is a creature by the name of Nevol Weck. Its voice was cold and calculating as it spoke to the yordle.

I have guarded gateways of slumber,
Past the wane mooned abysses of night,
I have lived o'er many lives without number,
I have weaved all things with my sight;
And I struggle and shriek being driven ever to madness with my plight.

I have whirled with the earth at the dawning,
When the sky was a vaporous flame;
I have seen the dark universe yawning
Where the black planets roll without aim,
Where they roll in their patterns unheeded, without knowledge or lustre or name.

I had drifted o'er seas without ending,
Under sinister black-clouded skies,
That the many-forked lightning is rending,
That resound with hysterical cries;
With the moans of unborn Aeons, that out of the celestial waters rise.

I have haunted the tombs of the ages,
I have flown on the pinions of fear,
Where the smoke-belching Chaos rages;
Where our fate looms frozen yet near:
And in realms where the luck of the mortals consumes whatever it can cheer.

I was old when they first came into being
In the jeweled-decked throne by the Abyss;
I was old in those epochs singing
Yet It was no longer me that the silence missed;
And I, then untainted and happy, there dwelt in bliss.

Oh, great is the sin of my spirit,
And great is the reach of its doom;
Not the pity of others can cheer it,
Nor can respite be found in the tomb:
Down from the infinite Aeons come beating the wings of the certain loom.

Through the guarded gateways of slumber,
Beyond the wane mooned abysses of night,
You will live o'er many lives without number,
You will see all things with my sight;
And We will struggle and toil together to lessen the madness of our plight.


Ouroboros finished speaking into the mind of the mortal awaiting a reaction.

((Yes Ouroboros likes to speak in riddles. Might have something to do with him choosing the form of a dragon. also deleting all my previous posts.)))


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Eredaar

Senior Member

10-10-2012

(( how the heck did I miss this thread while browing through the forums FOR THREE DAYS, anyways, I would greatly appreciate it if someone would give me a quick summary of what has happened so far, if not... well its fine :P
EDIT btw if you haven't already, you may want to think about making a list of which Aeons are with which normals))
Aochi wiped the sweat off his brow, having just completed his set of excersis for the day. In truth, his training as a whole had ground to stop, his mentors often busy, so he was left without a purpose, with no cause to fight for. (( not sure what else to put because I don't know what is going on right now ))


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Maragonn

Senior Member

10-10-2012

((Sorry ladies and gents for my delay. Life kicked me in the balls, and I was trying to find em again lol.

And sorry Cryypter, for the OOC ))

Noxus, Enes Household

After some time with the Hand of Jericho Swain, newly appointed High General of Noxus - Joshua retired after hours of feasting, drinking, and dancing. He found, that with each step he was more drunk then he knew. And despite this awareness, he could only smile stupidly at it, stumble around his moderately furnished home of moderate wealth, and knock over a very expensive vase with Shurima Lilies inside.

As the painted glass smashed, and shatters into dozens of pieces against the tile floor, Joshua becomes alert and promptly "Shh! Shh! Shhhhh!" At the air in all directions. He goes somewhat prone, looking this way and that as if he were accompanied by others. And perhaps, in his mind, he was. Nobody else resided in his household, that was certain. "Bloody v-va-vase... N-never know when... to keep quiet!" He hiccups in between his words and begins to kneel to scoop up the pieces when he stumbles forward and nearly face plants. This time, to catch himself, he tries to lean on the hallway table the vase had rested on and shoves it away too - resulting in him actually face planting.

That's when he heard it. The voice... As he lay there, face in the floor, arms to his side, and back arched like the passed out drunk he was, he heard the words, "What does the sword mean to you?"

Considering this part of his drunken stupor, Joshua closes his eyes and effortlessly passes out. For hours, and probably half way into the next day, he sleeps. Occasionally, he thought, in his dreams he could hear the same words repeating themselves over and over again. He wakes, pushes himself off the floor and moves into the kitchen to prepare his daily protein and energy blend for his morning regiment when he hears, "What does the sword mean to you?"

He drops the Piltoverian caffeine capsules he was about to break down, and reaches for his sword. Now annoyed, and somewhat more alert than before he begins to look around his home - first out his kitchen windows, then to his hall where he had passed out, and proceeding into his rather spacious, and empty living area. "If there is someone here, I suggest you speak now. Trespassing is a sure way to get yourself killed, especially in my home."

And again, as if burned into his mind the emblazoned words call out, "What does the sword mean to you?" Relaxing a bit, he slows his search and listens to the words a moment. Satisfied to have a sword in his hand, he was hardly afraid if there were someone in his home toying with him. He found, in this comfort of holding the sword, that he was calm, relieved.

That was when Joshua sat on a silk fabric chair, green, and lay the sword across his lap. He would humor the voice, whether it was in his mind or not. "The sword is the symbol of Noxus. The symbol of a warrior, a man who embraces his strength, that strength above all else provides the means to progress. Strength of arm for the battlefield, strength of mind for affairs of life and politics, and strength of heart. But above all else, the sword is the extension of a soldiers will, his strength. My sword is my soul, the very heart of me." He relaxed onto his chair, slouching back and never letting go of the sword. "Now, figment of my imagination, unless you have something more for me... be on your way, Lest I show to you how well I handle this sword."