[center][h3][color=black]Death Knell[/color][/h3]
[i]Izual Anzhela[/i]

Viciousmarrow[/center]
[hr][hr]
Izual's visage lit up as four winged Aberrations dropped from the sky, horrific, twisted mandibles clicking as they approached the Hellspawn. They were humanoid in shape, yet there was not a single thing natural about them: their jaws were filled with uneven, razor sharp teeth, multiple spiked appendages adorned their frames, and they appeared to only exist to kill and wreak havoc. In a single moment, the world around the Blackwing devolved into a hellish nightmare, filled with swarms of these bloodthirsty horrors. However, just when the Knight thought things couldn't get much worse, a titanic monstrosity appeared from seemingly nowhere, towering over the landscape like a monolithic monarch. Izual had escaped to the deck to get away from the party, especially that Troll and Elf that confused him ever so, but this was wholesomely unexpected. An arrogant smirk crossed his lips and his body instinctively dropped into a combative stance, his claws prepared to deliver these abominations unto finality. 

[color=slateblue]"You guys don't look so tough..."[/color] Izual taunted the hideous things before he launched his assault. A silver haired blur, he moved forward and impulsively raked a claw across the nearest Aberration's chest. No ichor came spilling out, nor did any visible wound appear. In fact, much to his dismay, the Knight felt his claws snap on the creature's hardened carapace. [color=slateblue][i]'Not good.'[/i][/color] he quickly thought while watching his shattered keratin fly from his fingers. The abomination didn't wait to retaliate and threw a wicked fist into Izual's temple. The surprising amount of force blew the Hellspawn away, flipping multiples times in the air before he hit the deck face-up. Pain wracked his bones and he could feel a bit of blood trickling down the side of his face. Whatever these things were, they were much tougher than he gave them credit for.

Unfortunately, Izual didn't even have a chance to recover from this attack. A pained shriek escaped his lips as he felt four needles pierce through his abdomen and thighs. Looking down, two of the other Aberrations had already dawned upon with speed to rival his own. Their spiked limbs tacked him to wooden planks beneath him and left him no chance to escaped. [color=slateblue]"My sword..."[/color] Izual agonizingly whispered out, silently wishing he had carried Novabuster with him to this cursed wedding. His natural weapons were ineffective against these Aberrations, he was pinned with nowhere to go, and no one was coming to save him. Things looked quite grim for him right now.

The atrocities were about to deliver his death knell when something strange happened, something that Izual had not seen in his life: a small black, swirling mass of shadows suddenly appeared, hovering over his chest. As the Aberrations attempted to lance their appendages through the Knight's torso to tear him asunder, their strikes were halted by tendrils of ebony shades that shot from the dusky orb before him. Like some kind of horrible virus, whatever those tendrils grasped vanished into the hazy source, vacuumed in by a power Izual never knew he had. Grotesquely, horrendous, muffled screams emitted from the Aberrations as the viral shadows crept up their flesh and assimilated their essence into the floating mass, causing it to grow larger and larger until it began to shift and form into the familiar shape of a sword. The Aberrations ceased to exist, and as if by divine intervention, Novabuster replaced them and hung in the air, pulsing with a dark, purplish radiance as if it were imbued with some new found power. 

Shakily, the bleeding, horned man got back to his feet and grasped his blade. An overwhelming perception of power shot through him and a dark, murky aura enveloped his figure, becoming a wraith of impending doom. As he stood there, his metamorphosis complete, an incredible might radiated from him. To onlookers, he was no longer the silver haired Hellspawn, but rather a featureless shade with burning white slits for eyes. Though he was badly injured, pain left his body and it felt like all of his senses and physical abilities were multiplied tenfold. Snickering at the remaining two Aberrations, who were now reinforced by 15 more, the shadow-clad Izual raised his massive sword in challenge. [color=slateblue]"Let's get this party started."[/color] his voice boomed, several octaves below his normal tone. Though this form was new to him, something told him that he already knew the basics of what it was capable of. 

Izual's body shifted and contorted, and the shadows transferred every last atom of his form into the midst of the Aberrations' horde. Surprising them with his unanticipated warp, he easily gored through the heads of several of the first ugly creatures he encountered, shish kabobing them onto his sword's length. He carried his swing's momentum to left and cleaved another four in half, a fountain of bloody ichor gushing from their useless corpses. Though they tried to muster a counter assault and strike him from all angles, they were no match for the Oracle's newly awakened powers. The wraith began a frenetic, violent dance, empowered by a reservoir of chaotic energies. Limbs were sheered from bodies, entrails plopped to the deck, and gallons of gore waded at Izual's feet as his Novabuster engaged in a massacre. 

The last remaining monstrosity attempted to fly away from his rampage, but a shadowy tendril sprouted from the aura around the Hellspawn and caught the creature before it managed to escape. It was reeled back until Izual stood in front of it, a crushing grip now around its husky throat. It flailed in place, lashing everything it had at the shade of a man but to no avail. Its attacks did not seem to even penetrate the vortex of shadows that surrounded him. Cocking his head in amusement, Izual increased the pressure on its neck until its head was garroted clean from its torso, erupting in a grisly, sanguine shower. Victorious, for now, the unrecognizable phantom tossed the cadaver over the ship's railing and began to stride towards the thick of the battle to help his comrades, knowing this battle was far from over.