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What happens next?

[NMR] Gather the forces in a central location to begin plotting. 3 9.38%
[NMR] Begin the search for our leader, Morello! We need him! 7 21.88%
[NMR] The AfA and IsC are battling. Attack them both while they are weak! 11 34.38%
[IsC] Fall back to Parrotopia. It is easier to defend there. 16 50%
[IsC] We will fight to our last man. The AfA falls here! 8 25%
[IsC] Counter-attack the AfA. Send the fleet to the Black Keep! 7 21.88%
[The Knights Who Drink Tea] Send tea-filled troops to help the Brotherhood. 7 21.88%
[The Knights Who Drink Tea] Send tea-filled troops to help the IsC. 14 43.75%
[AfA] Withdraw the army from the Brotherhood lands. Send them to Parrotopia! 4 12.5%
[AfA] Call the troops back from the Brotherhood lands. We need their help against the IsC! 6 18.75%
[AfA] Send the troops left in the Black Keep to attack both Parrotopia and the bears! 8 25%
Multiple Choice Poll. Voters 32 .

[Community Event] The Riot War - Chapter 8 - The Journey to Mt. McHuge Large

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Senior Member


The Lone Chartreuser
Honorary AfA Assassin

Haeos looked up. "Aw, cr*p. You sure got a lot...er...scarier."

He drew his katana. "I hope you have fun. Good luck, as well."

With that, he dashed forwards as fast as possible. To most people, there would just be a black-and-chartreuse blur. To almost everyone else, it would just be chartreuse. When he finished his dash, he was standing directly behind Tharus, swinging his katana in a wide arc towards his leg.

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Ambearsador Soupcup - Leader of the Brotherhood of the Armored Bear - Aboard the Albion - New Plotz.

Soupcup listened and held still during the explanation of why they had been gathered, as he already knew the details. Mostly, he began to think of what perils may occur during the 'mission' of sorts. Would they meet a new enemy? Would they be too late? Does Morello know they are coming? Soupcup even wondered if anyone wouldn't come back. Though, he stopped himself from thinking of it. Knowing they all could have each other's backs comforted him in a way. He felt assured that they wouldn't fall.

As Sagarys finished, Soupcup knew he had to go get ready. Mostly because Sagarys said so, but there were some things that he wished he still had time for. Soupcup watched as the increasingly handsome Sleiphner pulled out a piece of parchment and began writing on it, and then he pulled out a swallow from his man purse of holding. He attached the missive, and sent of the now partially laden, most likely European swallow. Soupcup was mostly amazed that there had even been a swallow in his man purse of holding, but expected nothing less. He nodded with a smile as if to say, "That's my Sleiphner."

Sleiphner then stood and began to walk out of the room. Sir Chompsalot turned back at Soupcup and sent a kissy face his way, to which Soupcup giggled. Soon after, the one known as Phalonax left the room as well. She seemed like a collected one in a way, more silent and to herself than the others, but Soupcup knew she was powerful, especially since she was selected. Soon after, Soupcup then stood tall and left the room. He traveled down the halls and thought of what he may need for this journey. He had everything he really needed, from his armor to his claws.

As he continued down the halls, he began to think of people he may wish to say his goodbyes to. Volibear being the most important, but there were definitely others. What saddened him the most is that, him having to leave would most likely make him miss out on mating season. It was a depressing thought, indeed. Though almost suddenly, he noticed something white and thin flying his way. Soupcup grabbed the object, to find that it was a paper plane of sorts. He opened it up and saw a crude drawing of a phallic membrane drawn onto it. At first, Soupcup was disgusted. Soon after, he laughed as he knew that it was Sleiphner who had drawn it. It made complete sense to him. It reminded him of something that he would need to do. Soupcup then walked through several halls until he reached the hawkery, where there were many messenger hawks available for sending a missive. He grabbed a quill from a nearby table and set the piece of paper he had acquired in the halls on the table and began to write:

To whom it may concern of the Brotherhood of the Armored Bear,

The battle at Nikapolis was, for the most part, successful. Unfortunately, the city is in ruins. Debris can be found anywhere you look, but we have rescued the survivors. We are now aboard the Parrotopian's flagship, the Albion. Volibear himself is with us as well. Though, I believe he is staying with the Solari for a short while.

This brings me to my next point, I will be parting on a mission with a group of the Iron Solari's finest, to find Morello before he gains extraordinary power. I promise you all that I will not fail, and I wish you all well. I hope you can handle things at the homestead, and that you will be safe.

May your bear always be armored, and your rivers be salmoned always,
Ambearsador Soupcup

Soupcup quickly attached the missive to a hawk and sent it off, partially laden. He hoped his message would reach someone in the Brotherhood, preferably Tharus. He then turned around and began to wander the halls once more. He had a lot to think about, and at least he had time to do so.

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Tharus - General of the Brotherhood of the Armored Bear - Defending the Homelands.

"Aw, cr*p. You sure got a lot...er...scarier."

Tharus watched as Haeos drew his katana,

"I hope you have fun. Good luck, as well."

Tharus then smiled even wider, and cracked his neck, side to side as he held his axe with his left hand. Soon, Haeos dashed forward at a high speed. He started to go around Tharus, and eventually was behind him. Tharus then tossed his axe straight up into the air, and quickly turned around to move his leg away from the katana. Mid-turn, he grabbed the handle of his axe with his right and swung down straight over Haeos with great force.

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Senior Member


Baneson Shadowfriend, IsC Enforcer and Observer

The sudden rush of flames from Flamell crashed into the void creatures like a tidal wave and the smaller ones were swept away from the larger beast that was Baneson's target. During the chaos, he studied the way the creature moved: the stretch of its sinews, the roll of its muscles, and the speed of its movements. It was clearly the Alpha of the pack, or of this particular pack for there may be more on the way. Either way it was the commander and it must be elminated. Just the job for an assassin.

When the path to the Alpha was cleared by Flamell's tunnel of flames Baneson dashed forward, his daggers held out behind him, letting his cloak of shadows fall behind him. Fully revealed to the Alpha, it roared a challenge at his headlong charge and readied its claws to strike. It stomped the ground and almost immediately, viciously spiked spines erupted from the ground and Baneson leapted clear of their reach. Rolling in mid-air he brought his daggers round overhead and began to plunge them down toward's either side of the Alpha's neck, and his eyes opened in shock as he caught the beast's other claw squarely to his chest as it came around from below. He was impaled on the claw like a spit, the claw exiting his back above his shoulder blade. Blood dribbled from his mouths as he raised his head to look the creature in the eye, gritting against the pain...and dissolved into a mist of shadow.

Baneson had disappeared. The Alpha roared in outrage and inspected its claw in confusion, but there was no sign of blood or any other indication it had actually hit Baneson. The monster started to cast about looking for its prey, but suddenly a dagger punched into either side of the Alpha's temple. Transfixed in place by the vicious daggers, its eyes casting blindly about for where Baneson had attacked from. He was perched on its back, straddling the ridges that marked its spine. Locking eyes with the monster, Baneson could see the questions in the beast's eyes and decided he'd take the time to explain.

"Your initial attack. The spines. They made very nice shadows for me to jump into and conceal myself. At the same moment, my shadow took my place and baited you into a reckless attack that cleared all those pesky claws out of my way as I made my way up your back. Once my shadow was impaled, I could dispel him, that I might reappear and kill you."

Baneson could see the light begin to leave the monster's eyes so he wrapped up his little speech.

"Don't worry. When you get to Hell I assure you, you'll find plenty of company that hate me just as much as you do."

The creature started to wobble on its feet and slumped down to the floor of the cave. The smaller void creatures still within the tunnel of flame scrambled to clear out of the way. Baneson leapt from its back as it impacted and landed lightly on his feet to regard the rest of his opponents and his companions. He locked eyes with Flamell and held them as if to say, "See what I'm capable of. See how narrowly you avoided death."

"Perhaps now you'll understand," he said to Flamell as he tossed one of his shadowy daggers into the air and let it fall to the ground. Just as it was about to dig into the floor of the cave, a shadowy hand sprang from the hilt as though it had snatched the dagger out of the air. The hand quickly grew an arm and soon a dark figure took shape around the dagger and when it was completed it matched Baneson's stance and profile exactly.

"Good to see you're still here, old friend." Baneson said, nodding at his shadow.

"As though I could be anywhere else, old friend," his shadow replied, its voice sounding almost exactly like Baneson, but at a timber that made it seem like it was coming from underground.

The shadow turned and regarded the void creatures inside and outside the tunnel of flames. Its eyes were wide with excitement, and held a feral tint that seemed barely restrained. "So..."

"Yes. You may begin," Baneson said taking a step back.

With Baneson's trademark side-long grin on its face, the shadow suddenly seemed to disappear. A cluster of several smaller void creatures trapped within the flames several yards away suddenly sported half a dozen long lines of dark blood each and their limbs went flying. The shadow reappeared in their midst a split-second later, holding the last of a series of unseen dagger strokes out wide to its side, and basked in the sudden spray of gore. Where the droplets of vicera touched the shadow man they hissed and steamed away into nothingness. If the creatures had had any time to utter a sound as they were slain, they would've been drowned out by the laughter of Baneson's shadow.

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Vladimir, the Blood Lord

It was rare if he did one of these letters. Vladimir could have just easily had one of the researchers he had send out a telepathic message using the technology and magic they had.

The only problem was that this was part of a plan. One only a select few should know about.

After finishing the message, Vladimir put the bloody quill back into the jar and left.


Outside of the temple, there was a cardinal waiting on a rock.

Vladimir approached the cardinal, knelt down and tied two sets of papers onto it's feet. The bird looked at him and then took off.


Phalonax 'Phalon' Valeion, Vladimist Blood Reaper and Iron Solari Assassin

Her first stop was on an observation deck, where she looked out to the sky. It might be the last time she would see a view such as this.

Suddenly a cardinal landed onto the railing, two scrolls tied to its feet. Phalon untied the one on the cardinal's left foot first. On it was the following message:

I've heard you're doing well. I also believe something important is about to happen to you soon.
There is no need to worry about the...leaders now. I have taken care of them. I have also taken the liberty of withdrawing the runners from the Black Keep, so ypu can stop worrying about them.
I have little to say, only that you must tread carefully and consider your actions. We do not need and must not have another one of your blood rages to happen again.

Stay Alive,

Phalon looked at the note again. It was rare if the blood lord actually wrote to his followers, and even rarer if it wasn't a death sentence.

He cares...this is just weird...

She untied the piece of paper from the bird's other foot. The message was blank save for the small red droplet at the corner.

Well, I guess.

Phalon untied on of the bandages on her left wrist the wound on it healed. She bit into it, blood begining to seep out of the new puncture wound.

Taking her fangs out of the fresh markings, she pressed the paper on the wall with her left hand, dipped the tip of her right finger in the blood of the bite and began to write the following message, stopping every so often to dip the tip in blood again.

About to go after Morello. Do not notify ANYONE of this.
Nikaopolis in ruins. Giant monster threatening to destroy the world caused destruction. The monster has been defeated.
Raio Fangar has returned. I don't know how, but she is after me.
The voice in my head has begun talking to me again. I don't know why.
Evarok has gone MIA.
End report.
There is something going on at the other end.
Tell me what it is when I get back.
Correction. IF I get back

- Phalonax Valeion

Using the small thread from the previous message, Phalon tied the paper onto the bird's foot. It took one look at Phalon and then flew off.

Phalon looked at the bite mark, pulled out a fresh bandage that happened to be on her back and wrapped it around the wound. No one needed to get the wrong idea...

She walked back inside, thinking about what to do next. There was not a lot of time left and she would have to head out soon.

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Senior Member


The Lone Chartreuser
Honorary AfA Assassin
And frequent Sagarys un-anger-er

Haeos was surprised at the speed of Tharus. Dodging the axe to the side, he took out three small shruiken. With unprecedented speed, he threw them in a fan, aimed at everything above the shoulders of Tharus. Even if they didn't hit, it would provide a great distraction. Taking his short knife, he dived towards his legs, threatening to stab him in the knee.

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Senior Member


Tharus - General of the Brotherhood of the Armored Bear - Defending the Homelands.

Haeos had dodged the axe and it landed bluntly into the ground, raising earth around it. He picked it up out of the ground and saw Haeos throwing three shuriken towards his head. Not wanting to lose sight of his opponent, Tharus raised his left arm as he moved slightly, one shuriken piercing slightly into his large arm as he swung his axe with his right to strike against the advancing Haeos.

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Wolfie Night

Senior Member


Alpha Night and Chorr, Clan Full Moon, Plot Moving Meeting Room on Albion

After both Sagarys and the Grand Marshall finished addressing those gathered, a heavy silence descended upon the group. After a lengthy pause, Sleiphner pulled out a piece of parchment and started to scribble madly upon it. Night was unsure if he was writing a letter or a last will and testament. Glancing away for a second, Night was quite astonished and amused at the same time to behold that Sleiphner had somehow produced a European Swallow yet to become partially laden when she looked back at him. Attaching the letter/will and monocle to the swallow, the gentleman stood up, announced that he could be found in the hanger, and left with the now partially laden swallow with Sir Chompsalot in tow. A quick glance at Ambearsador Soupcup revealed an affectionate smile directed towards the gentleman. Shortly thereafter, the lithe unnamed female slowly walked away as well after some apparent hesitation, not bothering to indicate if she was attending. Soupcup then took his leave. Left in the meeting room was Night, Chorr, and Valkyrie Lead.

A heavy burden was now placed upon Night. Undoubtedly, if the scribe was correct, to seek out Morello while he was weak ultimately to destroy him before he became unimaginably powerful was a very good idea. The risks involved however were incredibly high. Night had no fear for her own safety. No fear of pain or death. If Luna decreed it was her time then so be it. It was fear for her Clan that held her rapt. If she were to go gallivanting off into the sunset, possibly never to be seen again, who would lead the Clan? It was one thing to go gallivanting off into the sunset when those you cared about were at home. It was another thing to gallivant off after half of them followed you halfway across the known world. Right now half of the Clan were aboard the Albion with her. The other half were safe at home. If she were to go on this mission it would be like abandoning those that had followed her. If they succeeded in killing Morello though…One of the major threats to the known world would be gone. Still. However, it would be worse to send someone in her stead, particularly due to the nature of the mission. While that would leave Night free to lead the Clan, she could not knowingly send one of the Clan most likely to their death. Why didn’t Night just order the coffin now? Aside from that, Night was the most able-bodied for a mission of this magnitude. Night was the most combat ready of the Clan, the most seasoned in terms of survival. If anyone was to go, it should be her. However, that leads her back to her original argument. Night sighed heavily; these circular arguments were getting her nowhere.

Beside her, Chorr watched his Alpha think. She seemed a bit agitated. Her tail lashed back and forth and she was tapping the table with her claws. Chorr actually felt a bit bad. He obviously wasn’t meant to have been present during a meeting of such high profile. Chorr felt he was adequate at best. He definitely wasn’t the strongest, or most intelligent of all the Clan. Sometimes he didn’t even feel like he fit in with the Clan. He had never liked battle, had never idolized the stories of his warrior ancestors, although he respected them, kinda, and had never relished the life of the forest. While he liked the simplicity of forest life, he had never came to love it like all of his brethren seemed to. He was different and he knew it. He was never popular growing up like his brother, Dulst, was. Dulst was always naturally charismatic. At night, when Chorr was left alone to his thoughts, he secretly dreamed of leaving the forest and traveling to one of the major cities, any of them, and find out if city life suited him better, perhaps even attend a university. Chorr was brought back to reality when Alpha Night sighed heavily.


“Yes Chorr?”

“What is it?”

“Decisions, Chorr, decisions.” Sighed Night.

Standing up, Night nodded to Valkyrie Lead then took her leave. Chorr bowed to the Grand Marshall and followed suit.

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Senior Member


Ynaht - Imperium Messenger - Guest on board the Albion

Ynaht wandered the halls of the Albion, Caine resting peacefully on top of his head. He had spent the past few days perfecting control of the energy stream and decided to take the day off. However even with such a diverse group of people on board the Albion he found himself bored beyond measure. He was now spending his time wandering a set route round the Albion. It was now the 5th time he had passed the Cantina. He stood there pondering whether to go in or not when Caine stood from his sleeping position, began sniffing the air and leapt off Ynaht's head landing with a running start towards the personal rooms. Ynaht chased after the speeding pup who surprisingly even in pup form outran the poor messenger. Eventually Ynaht lost sight of Caine. He stood in the hallway trying to find any sign of Caine when he heard a loud shout coming from the rooms. Ynaht raced towards the opened room. "I'm so sorry about this hes usually not like th--" He stopped his apology long enough to process the bizarreness of the scene. He found Caine gnawing on the head of a purple caster minion who was on the verge of tears. Well guess I found my entertainment for the day he thought as he moved towards the duo.

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Eclipse Apostle

Senior Member


Anti-Fun Agenda

It was raining. My blade thrummed alongside the throne of the Black Keep. The subtle pulse had awoken me from the short rest I had permitted myself after making the necessary orders, and it saddened me to think of her singing in the darkness where she had been bound. I placed my left hand on the handle, and though I had never gotten the chance to convene with her, I could feel her settle, the same way I could feel the intent of a killer, or the pressure of a stare. I rose from the chair I had lusted after since I had lain eyes on the Keep, holding my sword blade down. I had done all I could for the men here, but fate, circumstance, and the ever present greed had seen them to the wrong end of my blade.

I was weary of mind as I took heavy steps towards the main hall. My place in the war had just begun, and already the scale of my task grated at my confidence. I would not let it dull my mind, so I used the crushing weight as a whetstone, and honed all of my will to a razor point. My kindness had lasted long enough, and it was again time to take flesh and spill blood for a cause. My breath came out heavier at the thought, deep sighs of both contempt and content. I had achieved the Black Keep, with only Zileas as an obstacle to true ownership, but when I looked on his sad form, I could not help but slacken the grip on my weapon and turn away. The days spent outside cutting lightning in twain, honing a craft that was both defilement and gift played themselves in my head alongside the memories of cutting down men that had been made to trust me as a brother, my mind making mockery of the illusion of mercy.

As I made my way down the black halls towards the gate, my thoughts drifted to Leona, Stylus, even the captive Confederacy, yet I could do no more for their situations. Leona was Zileas's prize, Stylus was both bargaining chip and ace-in-the-hole, and the bears were filth, but even such scum had its uses. Those uses were beyond me now, and soon, all things would be beyond me. I had fought more times than I ever tried to track with only blade and wits, slain magi, brigands, captains and thieves, with only cunning determination and a finely honed talent for swordplay. Over the years I had avenged as many of my fallen as I could, but when there was just one name left, I had added another to the list, that of Stylus. Taking Lady Leona's light was too sad a thought to bear now, so I would settle for my final kill somewhere on the battlefield, and then...

I had no purpose beyond that, I reflected. The gates parted before me with a whispered command, a saddled drake with supplies strapped to his sides awaiting me in the snowy field before the Keep. Once I took the life of the man they called The Crimson Death, my list would be as complete as it ever would become. The spirits of the clan of witches and warlocks that my Lord father and Lady mother had gathered would be sated, the last hero of the minor campaign against them would lie among them, and the IsC would be without a general, and should Zileas play his cards correctly, without a king.

A super minion came to me as I stood before the drake, and he presented a cloak of black fur. "It is much colder on high, Commander, especially with the heights Feral here loves to keep. Pants alone and you shall die of frostbite before ever reaching this mountain." I nodded, and was pleasantly surprised when he draped it across my shoulders. The cold that had been my average for the past years was replaced with a growing heat, yet before I could revel in it the drake roared his impatience. I locked my eyes with his, shifting my head as he did, and at the last moment before my lids were to come down the drake looked away, letting out a smaller roar before going belly-down that I might mount.

I did, finding the saddle needed no adjustment. They had fitted it well to the silver-black scales of the beast, and when I gave a light nudge he lifted to all fours eagerly. The colors of him gave me the impression that the drake would probably seem more a creature of smoke should the light manage to pierce the fat clouds that always surrounded the keep. "Commander!" One of the minions called, and I fixed him with a light smile that I could not begin to feel. "What are our orders?" The hope behind the voice was enough to bring out the sadist in me.

"Find a suitable minion to attend Zileas, he's useless at the moment. The prisoners are to be kept firmly under lock and key, and inform neither of my leaving. Should they ask, say I am busy. Should they insist, ignore them. If the bears act up, show no mercy. The part they play is long past, but Zileas may of yet have plans for them. Should a siege occur while I'm off on this fool's errand of finding Fruit Loops on mountains, threaten to kill the Lord Stylus or the Lady Leona. Should there be another infiltration, wake Zileas and rouse his allies. The Solar Corps know my wishes best, follow their orders should there be any overlap you don't understand." The minion gave a nod, and I spurred the drake forward.

So it was that I left the Black Keep, riding on a vicious beast towards an unknown mountain on the advice of a drug-addled mentor. First though I would do the important work of setting up a a defensive line with my army. I rode towards the location of my minions, harboring both well wishes and a bloodlust that threatened to rise past manageable limits. I threw my head forward and screamed at the sky, a challenge to all in my path, Feral joining my warcry with such fervor that I could only believe he too was frenzied. I steered him in the right direction and gave the beast his head, and Feral climbed higher in the sky, his mighty wings threatening the clouds above with their approach. Grinning like a savage, I spoke to the drake "Save some of that fire, for while now we travel, soon we feast. We shall gorge ourselves on the blood of men and the screams of the wretched, Feral! Until then, we hunt." I tried to not allow my emotions to show, but the euphoria of flight and the promise of deaths was too much. My determination gathered in my throat and I called uselessly to the sky,

"Do you hear me, Parrott? We hunt!"