Cyclone

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

I'm about to just double post if nobody else does.

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

Sad to see you go. Thank you for telling us though; most people simply cease posting on here and we never hear from them again. At least we won't have to wonder now.

Anyways, we should now decide what will happen to his nation.

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

I posted last. One of you lot can go onwards. :P

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

I originally made both Kokytos and the ice demon nation, which were suppksed to be from Kokytos. I don't know if Trapezoid's 'Kyotos' is just an alternate spelling or supposed to be different.

In any case, I didn't think we were going to use any of the story from last RP, which has already lead to another contradiction. 'Cocytus' is a river of the Underworld in Greek mythology (not an icy hell) and Moggotheddon's story obviously borrows from said mythology. In fact, I think I mentioned somewhere that he was drowned in the Cocytus before being thrown into Tartarus.

So now we have three very similar names for what may or may not be the same place (we could always say the Cocytus river simply runs through Kokytos, I guess), and the three are almost entirely disconnected in the story.

To avoid confusion and unnecessary complexity I suggest you just be vague with Emily's background. Say she was sent to some other frigid world, leaving out small details like its name or that it was in the Underworld. That way our stories don't have to contradict.

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

Happy holidays, everyone!

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

The nightmares agonized Moggotheddon, forcing him to relive all the horrors of the past. The memories came in order. He once again felt himself drowning in the unholy river Lethe, its water black as ink and its magical properties erasing all of his memories, all of his triumphs, to make way for memories of defeat and helplessness. Being harpooned like a fish, then dragged back out of the Lethe by his enemies. Being burned alive in the river of fire known as the Phlegethon. Drowned in each of the remaining three rivers of the Underworld, those of hate, sorrow, and lamentation, with nobody to drag him out of the final one. Eventually his limp form was carried downstream, to the great pit in the center of the Underworld where all rivers flowed: Tartarus.

The fall felt like it took an eternity. Slowly, what little light had existed in the Underworld above began to fade away as he cascaded deeper in to black depths. At last, he crashed to the bottom with a thud that shook the ground and recoiled upon the walls of the pit, echoing maddeningly. The fall that would have ordinarily reduced a mountain to dust did little to the Keeper, for death was no escape in this realm. Cursed and made vulnerable by the final three rivers of the Underworld, hate, sorrow, and lamentation seeped out of the body, intermingled with blood. The accursed things boiled into a foul vapor before coalescing into shackles and chains.

The nightmare ceased. The giant's eyes snapped open, though it made no difference; the utter darkness surrendered none of its secrets to his sight. Still, there was no need to see, for he knew the jailors were coming. The shiver down his colossal spine always foreshadowed the arrival of the wraiths that tormented him. The giant tried in vain to scramble backwards, as he always did, but the chains held him resolutely. It was too late, in any case, for they were already upon him.

His tormentors managed to elicit his howls, as they always did, but this time they got more than they bargained for. The forgetfulness and oblivion of the river Lethe had seeped deep into the Keeper's mind, where it would always stay. The Styx's hate, Acheron's sorrow, and Cocytus's lamentation had left him to form the chains. But the fire of the Phlegethon still burned strong. Mogotheddon let the unholy fires wash over every fiber of his being, searing strength into his broken body much as the kiln does to wet clay. His rage knew no bounds. With what amounted to little more than a twitch, his massive hand shot out to grab one of the wraiths that approached. The thing shrieked and burned upon mere contact with Mogg's flesh. A triumphant roar erupted from deep within his chest.

A thunderous clattering caused the Keeper to suddenly jerk his body around. As he did so, another deafening sound came from the opposite direction. Mogg laughed as he realized that the sound was that of his massive chains snapping like twigs. He awkwardly clambered to his feet and began walking. The chains that shackled his feet were shattered just as easily. Breaking out into a run, the broken chains clattering behind him, the giant eventually came upon the wall of the near-bottomless pit. His fingers found purpose once more as they gripped the rough stone. He tried to begin climbing, only to crash back down to the ground. The fire washed over Moggotheddon again, enraging him. He managed to scramble a little ways up this time before losing purchase, though he did not fall. Out of his manacles, their broken chains hanging loosely by his side, his former jailors emerged by the hundreds. The wraiths, now forced to obey his will, grabbed their master with ghostly hands and began to lift him upwards, out of the black depths of the pit.

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

Here is my sheet, at last.

Moggotheddon, Slave to the Chains - once a titanic Keeper with the strength to crush mountains, now he is the embodiment and defeat and helplessness. After his fall from power he was banished to Tartarus, shackled deep within in the depths of the bottomless pit and tortured by the horrors within. However, his jailers drove his primitive mind into unspeakable rage. Through sheer willpower he broke his chains and climbed out of the pit. The last vestiges of his former intelligence still remembered the way out of the Underworld, and so by pure instinct the Keeper crawled until he emerged from the Underworld, into a deep cavern below Cyprus. There, he collapsed from exhaustion.

His colossal form is hideously mutilated; impaled and sliced in a thousand places, his entire body bathed by fire. His ears and nose essentially melted away and fused with the rest of his grotesque visage, while the rest of his form bears the scars of defeat and endless suffering. His wounds, kept fresh by the sickly powers of Tartarus, still ooze blood. However, despite all of this his mangled form remains puissant.

Tormented to the point of insanity, the Keeper is no longer lucid. More akin to a raging and terrified beast, he exhibits no strategy or true aggression of his own; prone to only the occasional fit of anger in which his wrath usually inflicts more harm on any followers he accumulates than on enemies. His broken manacles are living things of their own, writhing like snakes and constantly fighting to subdue Moggotheddon once again. The behemoth alternates between long periods of peaceful slumber when he controls the chains, and nightmarish time spent awake, forfeiting his mind to the unadulterated rage that is his only way of overcoming the power of his chains.

Expect an OP soon; I think I've figured out what I'm going to do.

Dungeon Keepers (This one's done. Go to The Horde of Evil instead)

I tried twice to write an opening post and hit writer's block hard. In any case, I have the character fairly fleshed out and should at least post the sheet soon.

Dungeon Keepers [Be an evil overlord, attempt world domination]

Of course I'm in as well

Dungeon Keepers

Here I am. It looks good; this week and next are when I have my big tests though. I'll be slightly less active, but I should manage to get in some posting.

So by no means should you wait for me, start whenever you like.