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1 yr ago
Current Going to a festival fellas! So for the coming week I won't be able to post.
2 yrs ago
When you marathon Rick & Morty S2 and expected laughs but the ending just slaps you in the face...
2 yrs ago
School's in full "consume all his time"-mode so no posts for just a lil longer. Sorry folks! I promise I'll make up for it in the weekend!
2 yrs ago
Going to take a small break on most of my RPs for maybe a week or so.
3 yrs ago
Not near an actual keyboard until 21/06


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The fire dragons were screaming at their ice kin as they approached. Thesan hid the shuddering in his heart while he continued to focus on the fire orb before him. The thing was fighting to implode before the great dragons. “What are they doing!?” Lira barked at no-one in particular. “The fools… The bloody fools! They’d rather fight us than kill the strangling tree?” She looked at her brother. There was doubt in his eyes, she knew it but he carried the Will of Ragnagedon. “Brother, grow our proclamation. I will deal with the hydra god.” A quick nod was enough. Lira released her hold over the orb and immediately Thesan was nearly blown away by the force he had to contain. But the Arch-Dragon was not to be defeated by his own power. Stone broke behind his hind legs as he dug his claws in deep. Meanwhile, Lira took flight and gathered a contingent of fire dragons as she ascended.

When high enough to overview the upcoming battle she cried out: “Three heads yet no brains at all! Do you not see we have a common enemy here? Do you not see the power that will strangle all of us?” She had to swallow her pride now for a second. “I propose a truce, hydra god! Wherever you hide! A truce for as long as this green monstrosity remains. So that we may destroy it and the hold it keeps on the land.” She hated every word she uttered.

Thesan released their proclamation. The blue fire orb was pushed forward, towards the massive trees and plans. The power of fire was not willing to burn the vegetations. No anything flammable would be reduced to ash the second it hit anything. Nothing would burn. Everything would be rendered to ash. As it turned out, the orb was heading straight for the wood-turned-villagers.
Response wont be up until tomorrow so post away my man.
Another man fell to the ground but Esif was nearly dragged with him. She took a moment to catch her breathe but it only made her realize how tired she was. The battle had raged for too long now. Still, she would kill. Kill until she was worthy of death. So when another figure appeared, she readied her blade. Only to see an all too familiar face. Right before she could question how he was still walking, Ghoran spoke. No, not Ghoran. That became clear with the first words that came out of his mouth. Esif readied her weapons again. That was not Ghoran. It wasn’t even human. Nor was the portal behind him. The spectacle extinguished the fighting spirit around Ghoran. Raiders and tribesmen stopped fighting as they could feel the strange, dangerous power radiating from the portal.

But when Esif was spoken to in person, as the thing that took over Ghoran’s body spoke of Ragnagedon, she fell down on her knees. Her blades dropping into the ground next to her. For a year now she had fought to get the attention of her god. Only to see another appear. One that wanted nothing but her dead. Was that her fate? To have worshipped a false god for a year now? To have killed in the name of someone who would never look at her? She was too tired for all of it. Esif fell to her knees. Ready to embrace her dead. At least she had lived a full year. Free from the sins of others. Free to live her own sinned life.

Fir watched it all unfold with staff and blade in hand. Much like Esif he felt his body aching. The grip on his items began to falter. When Esif fell, he knew all was lost. They would lose it all. In a way he wanted to give up as well. He too fell to his knees. The brazier-staff dropped, spilling it’s content before Fir. Setting the grass and mud ablaze. Maybe they had killed enough. Maybe it was time to sleep. But when he closed his eyes he could still feel the heat of the fire before him. No, it all felt wrong. This surrender. There was no hope but Fir did not want to surrender. He opened his eyes again to witness the helpless situation, and then he looked at the oil burning before him. Maybe everything was hopeless. Maybe everything was desperate. But maybe that was what was supposed to happen. Fir was not sure about anything he was about to do. Nobody had preceded him in this. Yet he was armored in faith. He pushed his blade into the burning oil before him. Coating it in fire. Before he turned the blade around, aimed for his heart and pushed.

The kill was instant and the oil began to eat away at his skin already. With glass, lifeless eyes a corpse fell over.

Esif opened her eyes again. Expecting to stand before some death god or worse. She did not expect a mountainside looking over a land of sooth and molten rock. Where the sky was black of smoke. A bit further from where she laid stood a figure with fiery red hair. “You’re a awake.” The figure said in a gentle, almost fatherly voice. “I will be honest with you. I never thought a human would make it so far so fast. My mother often told me you were a very surprising race but I’d bet she does look terrified now. Alas, enough about monsters. You and I have other things to talk about.”

When she opened her eyes, she stood amid the bloody battlefield once more. This time not afraid to die a worthless death. She was the first of his Chosen. The demons no longer scared her. One clearly didn’t get the message. With gnawing teeth and a sharp bronze sword he charged straight for Esif. She grabbed one of her swords and one fell, upwards sweep Esif send a wave of fire. It didn’t travel very far before it collapsed onto itself and into embers. Yet it had engulfed the demon who screamed in pain. To Esif, it was the most beautiful thing in existence.

It had to be shown more. Another sweep hit the demon and it dropped down, dead. Esif took his sword and charged the other demons. With newborn savagery she jumped in the air and stabbed the back of a demon. Fire ate away from the inside. Veins of ember grew over its skin before it collapsed in ash. With every hit, with ever slash she commanded the flames. Demons were soon to realize that she was no mere mortal.

In fact, she wasn’t the only one with suddenly inexplicable rule over fire. Almost broken figures were rising up again. Burning away man and demon alike. The demons, afraid like a kicked dogs, whimpered and made way. Opening up a path towards one of the two blood mages. Who locked its glowing eyes with Esif’s. It turned its fully body towards her, lifted up his arms and began his chant. Esif began to feel her blood coursing through her veins. Once she realized that the thing was practicing magic, she began to charge it. With every step her skin opened up. Letting the blood flow from her. Still, she came closer and closer. The demon continued its chant, louder and louder. The bloody lines in her skin began to form hexing patterns. Once complete she’d be doomed to a paralyzed fear. One that wouldn’t last long with this many demons around her, ready to gnaw the flesh off her bones.

Yet Esif charges one. The demon tried to chant louder and faster. He began to see the white in her eyes and then a single blade. It pierced its chest. The blood mage clutched at the wound once the blade was out but the time was already won. Esif delivered a devastating blow to one arm that tried to block it. She slammed down another. Every time bathing the ever further falling blood demon with fire. Until the arm and bone gave way. Esif grabbed the thrown blade and began to cleave its neck. The heated bronze failed to make a clean cut. The demon tried to crawl away but Esif didn’t allow it. She grabbed a horn of its heat and cleaved further. With every hit fire spewed from the blade and the creature let out a pained cry. Until the fourth cleave but Esif was still not done. It took four more hits and one of her blades got dulled by the bone. But she upheld her trophy high. The decapitated head of the demon. She stepped towards the demon and her own people. “Tell your god there is a new power to fear!” She screamed and as she screamed, the remain demons began to flee at the sight of their fallen blood mage and the other demonic corpses heaping up.

Then she turned to the human survivors. “Where are you gods now! Where are they!? Did they come to your aid in this battle? Did they bless you in your fight?” She stepped forward. Still clutching the head at a horn. “If you still believe your gods care about you then leave and never turn back. Run to your village! Run!” And so the tribesmen began to run back north. Abandoning their camp. Yet not all ran. A very few remained. “Why are you still here?” Esif asked.

“The gods abandoned us. Yours hasn’t. Why should we pray for those that don’t care?” One tribesman answered. He was young and fearful. Yet as he shook in his entire body, he tried to stand tall before Esif.

She observed him. Up and down. Much like Fir had done when he first found her. “There will be a price. A steep one. And there is no turning back from this. I’ll let you run back to your village now. Don’t expect me to be this merciful in the coming days.”

Yet the man di did not move.

“Very well. You’re a raider now.” When she said the words, fire engulfed the severed demon head she held. The flames ate away the flesh and blackened the bone beneath. Eventually, the flames faded and revealed the black skull. Like instinct, Esif dropped her blade and put the skull on her head. It fitted perfectly. “All hail the Chosen!” one veteran raider yelled as he raised his weapon. With the second cheer all raiders, young and old, joined in.
Kedran of Intre



The Exile

~ Magic User ~
~ Close-Combat Expert ~

~ Old World Disaster ~
~ Vanguard General ~


The elves once ruled through might and magic. Unparalleled in the arcane arts, they believed themselves superior. Even towards each other. For years and years, they felt that their humble rituals no longer supported their modern lifestyle. None wanted to return to the woods and dance around a tree trunk. The mages believed themselves so superior that magic would listen to their every voice as it was law. It didn't take long before magic began to falter. Fewer and fewer were born with the sacred gift. For generations, the elven mages kept this a secret. Until their power began to fade. Clinging to their forlorn superiority, the faltering mages remained in their high towers. Even now they stay there. They adopt those who have the gift. Yet the power of magic is not returning.

Kedran was one such prodigy. Who squired within a mage tower, where the high-mages hoped to revive the ancient power. Kedran soon proved to be another failure and was made a Mage-Guard. He had the special duty to protect those more gifted students. It still gave him access to the tower's library. Where his curiosity drove him to find out why magic had vanished from the elves. It was in the library where he stumbled upon a few old scrolls marking locations deep within the wildwoods.

Within those woods laid the stone monoliths depicting early elves moving around. Dancing or practicing some martial arts. Kedran could fully identify it. The only thing he could read were the ancient runes carved at the bottom. Several days in a row he tried to copy the movements. During breaks, he deciphered the runes. When he finally solved the final puzzle, every rune on the circle of monoliths fell in sync and was clearly readable. Though it only read one word over and over again: Fire. With that in mind, Kedran continued to perform the moves while focusing on the word fire. When he was done, a small candle flame appeared on his finger. It remained there for a few counts. Enough for Kedran to realize that he was not dreaming. Years of practice under a High-Mage and he couldn't perform magic. Yet practicing a few simple moves allowed him to create fire. Overjoyed he rushed back to his lords.

Who chastised him for his absurdness. How could a few stones and a bunch of runes teach a failure like him how to practice magic suddenly? Realizing that his masters did not want to believe him, Kedran kept low but continued to visit various monoliths, caves and other sides deep within the wilds. Where he mostly drew the moves in his book, together with the runes. Still, his masters were on to him. Fearing their power could quickly be overshadowed by some idiot who thought the answer lied in the wilds, the Arch-Mages banished Kedran from Intre. Kedran, with his books of spells, sailed to the new world. Hoping to make a living as some mercenary as he was trained in close-combat to protect his more "gifted" colleagues. Sadly his reputation preceded him even in the old world.

I'd be down for this.
@Aerandir I've got a few questions. For one, does the king hate mages and magic? Or is it only the Vanguard? Secondly, I'm assuming Akarath is the capital. Is the mage tower property of some mage order? Also, is magic different from most other settings here? I would love to play as the leader of a mages guild or something like that.
Question: Can you join an already existing faction? Like the Ouroboros?
A quick post to keep the spire stuff rolling. Worshippers Arc post is coming (hopefully) soon.
“They’ll try to freeze it.” Thesan noted, with his gaze still fixated upon the two remaining heads of the Hydra God. He could feel the temperature dropping around him as the storm began to worsen. “I reckon they aren’t done yet with this strange spire.” The dragons around him felt the cold air as well but they were no mere lizards. They carried the essence of their lord with them. Even as Ros tried to lower the temperature, Thesan and Lira released their own power. The dragons around them released their hot breath. Fighting off the cold while triggering a conflagration on the vegetation around them. It didn’t take long before smoke rose up into the freezing air.

But then the first lightning flashed through the air and struck the spire. “They don’t stand a chance against that.” Lira noted with some amusement as the storm continued to rage yet Thesan looked less at ease. “That’s the power of a god they’re using though. Even the flames were divine and look at what the spire did to them.” He said to his sister. “They’re not the god of fire. Theirs is not divine.” Still, Thesan shifted anxiously around. “It's still not right. That spire is creating too much.” Lira let out a heavy sigh. For ten days she believed her brother had not changed. Now faced with his nemesis and another great power he almost looked afraid. “Very well then brother. Let us show them the power of our Lord.”

The fire on the mountain shifted as both Arch-Dragons looked towards the spire and gathered the flames around them. Streams of fire swirled around the air as the other dragons joined with their own power. Making an orb of fire. First, it burned fierce and yellow. Yet when the Arch-Dragons focused their own power into it, the flame’s purity increased and the orb turned blue. Neither Arch-Dragons found that intensity enough. As the fire began to suck the air around him, forming a strong gust of wind, they kept feeding it power.

Deep within the Rift they had remained for what felt ages now. Severed from the power of their lord. The Arch-Dragons had breathed fire and raged again and again. Constantly punished for it by the vile magic of their cage. Now they could rage no more. The fire within them began to flutter and die. Even now they felt their embers being smothered. They would not last much longer.
Even with their god sleeping, turmoil raged within Verzak. The Twin Arch-Dragons ruled from the mouth of Ragnagedon’s cave. A testament of their strength. Within the Verzakian Dragons were gathering ever more. Joining the horde that Lira and Thesan called for. The later Arch-Dragon particulary was in a foul mood the last few days. His scars were an eternal reminder that he was bested by the hydra god. In the early days of his existence, several dragons taunted and challenged him. That stopped after the first skull got crushed below his leg. Now very few dared to even snarl at him. In the meantime Lira has ruled as nothing short of a queen. Unchallenged, undenied, her rule was absolute. With the merest command she could whip the dragons in a frenzy.

Deep within the central cave laid Ragnagedon in a restless slumber. Even adrift in his own mind, Ragnagedon never stopped observing the world around him. When a few fires died in a particulary confusing way he knew something was off. Something greater than he thought. With a voiceless command he whipped his dragons into a frenzy and commanded his Arch-Dragons. Outside several vulcanic explosions heralded their leave. Both Arch-Dragons quickly understood what they had to do and took flight. Behind them the others were quick to follow. Flying through the smoke filled air of Verzak, the horde grew fast behind them. Until all of the Verzakian Dragonflight was away. Traveling north-east.

They arrived just in time to see Drakairos do its thing and laughed. Through their eyes Ragnagedon witnessed the attempted destruction. But when the fire turned to maple leaves, he let out a roar of laughter. Which echoed through all dragons present. For now he stayed his hand and the dragons obeyed, pulling back towards a safer distance. A mountainside. They were swift to claim the terrain from the natural predators. “Let us see what the three headed thief-god will accomplish.” Thesan said. His eyes ever fixating his nemesis. Lira was focused on other things though. “What’s that tiny thing down there?” She asked. The mere confusion prompted three dragons to fly off the mountain side and go into the dangerous aura to investigate the tiny disturbance.

These were different dreams he had. In the past Ragnagedon dreamed of a high gate taunting him and a world aflame. It was a dream made by the barren world Ragnagedon had found himself in. Right after he was born. Now his dreams were different. He saw the night sky above and below a valley filled with tents. A hundred fires were gently burning and burning away Oao’s domain. Behind him though, there was something different. Small, hidden embers and people all around them. Talking in hushed whispers. The sense of serenity Ragnagedon felt quickly vanished as he recognized one person. Fir, the first of his followers. The fire god had seen the man’s fate unfold with every prayer. A faint grin formed on his lips.

“Still nothing?” Ghoran had been trying to interrogate his heretic prisoner for the past ten days now but the woman was more stubborn than his own wife. Even when starved for days she never said a word. In fact, she never even lost the defiant fire in her eyes. The sort of gaze that made very clear that she wanted to kill him. “You have to realize it is hopeless.” He continued on. At the very least she did appear to listen. “We outnumber you ten to one. There will never be a fight. Just a slaughter.”

Esif kept her lips sealed. She would never give in. Not even after the torture they subjected her to just because she killed a bear. A supposed holy animal for their god. What idiot god kept a bear as holy animal? Still, she remained faithful to her master and her god.

“At least tell us what sort of mad god you’d worship that makes you burn so much and suffer so much. He must not care for you at all, looking at those scars. They’ve made you ugly.” Ghoran said, pointing at the one just below her eye.

Out of all the scars he could point at, he pointed at the one she had before she followed Fir. The memory of it only made her seethe more. Until she could bear his ignorance no more. “Ragnagedon.” She whispered.

“What’s that?”

“Ragnagedon is my god and he loves me. He has set me free from men like you.”

Ghoran rose up. Those were the first words the woman spoke and they were sneered at him. Still, he knew more and he had to report it. Or he would if the sudden loud scream from outside didn’t distract him. He ran outside to see a tent fully ablaze. Men were fleeing away from it while others with buckets of water ran towards it. “What happened!?” Ghoran yelled but none of the men were from his tribe. He ran towards the great flames when suddenly another tent, right of him, burst into massive flames. “What is happening!?” he repeated.

“Fire! Fire! Ghoran!” he heard screaming from a distance. One of his warrior ran towards him yelling: “Fire!” Out of breathe he collapsed before his chieftain. “My lord! Lord! Fire! Everywhere! They walk amongst the fire! They’re mad!”

Ghoran looked up, just in time to see what his own man was talking about it. Men in masks and covered in mud walked between the burning tents. Throwing torches and leaving hot coals on the ground. Every man, woman or child they encountered they killed and let the blood drip into the flames.

“Attack!” Ghoran yelled as he made a mad dash back towards his own tent ring. His warriors were already picking up their weapons. “Go south! Protect the tents! Kill the masked ones!” His warriors did as commanded, after which Ghoran rushed into his own tent.

Where he coughed Esif cutting her bounds with his bronze sword. For a second they looked each other in the eyes with wide disbelief before Ghoran leapt for the blade and Esif leapt for his neck. She was fast. With one move she could jump almost over him. But he caught her midair and made her fall. Quickly he slashed towards her but she rolled away in time. With both her feet she kicked him away from her and jumped up. The next moment she was running outside. Ghoran was in fast pursuit. Outside tents all around were burning while people screamed. Canvas was painted red with blood. “Kill them all!” Ghoran yelled to every warrior passing him. Having no idea what tribe they were. There were no more tribes in this pandemonium.

He couldn’t find Esif at first. Until she suddenly appeared behind him and threw both of her wrists over his shoulders. She hung from his back as she tried to strangle him with the bounds. While Ghoran was slashing backwards again and again. Eventually her weight and his weakening muscles made him collapse on his knees. Esif reacted quickly and threw her full weight upon his back. Knocking him against the ground. She kept strangling him as she headbutted him again and again. Letting a vicious scream every time she hit him. Ghoran below her tried to fight it. But the dizziness began to take over. When blood began to pool below him, his vision blurred. Then everything went black.

It wasn’t a clean kill and it wasn’t a cheap one eather. Esif finally managed to cut her bounds. Something hot ran off her brow and down her cheek. Still, with stolen bronze blade in hand she began to make her way towards the thick of the chaos. Leaping up in the air and onto a tribesman back before cutting open his back. Then she found Fir. Who looked almost overjoyed when he saw her. “Esif! You’re still alive! Help me kill these curs!” He said as he slapped an enemy with his fire staff and setting him on fire with the liquid in the bowl.

Esif continued doing what she did best. Fighting with the raw savagery of a cat and Fir witnessed it well. Her capture and imprisonment did nothing to temper her apparently. For the first time in a very long time Fir felt proud. No, more, he felt love. Love for a second daughter he could find. But the situation around them was dire at best. Even with all the chaos and the burning and flames, the enemy was still outnumbering them greatly.

The god of fire watched his closest follower intensely. The battle wasn’t going well. Not anymore. Chaos was being worn down. There was only so much you could do with the element of surprise. For a human, Fir was remarkably resilient. Yet he was inching closer and closer to his breaking point with every raider slaughtered. Ragnagedon wanted nothing more than to know what this mortal would do once everything became utterly hopeless.
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