The Grey Dust

Heavens Fall

Welcome back.
I suppose i'm back to selecting Old Hawke as champ of X then.

Heavens Fall

Unworthy.
Darius Gordock.
A cruel judgment passed.
A path forseen, and now accepted.
Leaving before being allowed to do so.
Rushing into action yet be so blind to truth.
No champion of X would be so deaf to the question.
And none should be so mute as to leave it unanswered.
But in this clash, perhaps a worthy keeper would arise.
And to this keeper, the secrets beyond mere arcana given.

Their prayers muttered, uttered upon quivering lips. The acolytes were in fear, in fear of the armies of death and blood which could cut through them like scissors upon paper. The elders merely smiled, accepting of their fate, foreseen by their patron god certainly. X was not the most caring of gods, he had no edicts or mandates for his followers, no doctrine to guide them by. He did not seek worship, nor did he admonish it. His followers came to him on their own, enticed by the secrets and mysticism of knowledge. What few mortals he bestows a rare gift upon traded themselves to him, an exchange set at great cost. To be a follower of X was to serve under a god who cared not for the fragile life one had to live, but to devote oneself to keeping the secrets learned. So then should X will it, the apostles and priests, friar and all would take their secrets to the grave. And upon their more learned lips, prayers seeking silence in death beseeched X. Begging him to take their voices away from their spirits, as death claims them into the void.

Floating towards the old grounds where the gods once held court, a being strange, tethered to a lectern as it made its way across. To the mountain it would ascend, the domain of the gods silently guided by the whispers of X. A bookkeeper, a creature of twisted fantasy, deaf and blind and mute as it passed through into the chamber of the gods. An intruder perhaps, yet the guards would yield for this servitor of X as it spoke and borrowed the Voice of Darko's Death Cult Leader so far away as she grew mute. It was rare to see a bookkeeper outside of X's library, few were sent out to actively serve, this must be a rather special occasion.

"Darko. My Lord X requests you hold the advance of your forces from besieging his temple." Now the priestess was deaf, and finally blind as her senses were stolen her. A rather scary ability they had, to strip a mortal's senses. And should Darko foolishly attempt to destroy the bookkeeper, the senses stolen would be lost forever...

---

Magic? It matters not They too would bleed.

"Wizards bleed just as well as warriors." Dyleon commented as he leapt to the side of the fireblast before it hit. Crouching like a coiled wolf, waiting to pounce prey, his knee to the ground and his spear ready. His Dire Wolf companion was making short work of the defenders a few meters away, charging through the forest of weapons, rivers of blood and mountains of bodies. A bone-crushing bite was usually enough to dissuade them, rending claws to expose their flesh. Covered in arrows, cuts and blood was the great wolf. With the same bestial fury Dyleon grinned, fangs bared as the blood dripped from his chin from his face. The skies rained blood, the smell and taste of metal tang filled the air. The vampires in a fervor, the armies of death marching alongside them.

"With all that magic in your veins... What colour will you bleed?" With a sudden snap, the blood goddess's champion sprang forward, running towards the temple steps, spearhead lagging behind him as his long hair whipped around in the blood rain. An overwhelming attack would certainly be coming, the blood falling from the heavens above only made it easier for Dyleon as it drizzled against his skin to be absorbed and put to good use.

"Let's find out!"

Table of Monsters

R'lyeh has very low motivation to attack such fascinating creatures. Studying them is probably his first reaction.

Blood Compact (Open!)

All things cruel time devours,
birds and beasts, trees and flowers.
Gnaws iron, tarnish silver, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones and old bones to meal.
Slays king, destroys kingdoms, ruins town,
dries the oceans and beats high mountains down.
And so time grows in its wicked power,
by each fleeting moment, minute, hour.

Back into the waters of the font. bleeding, but not quite dead. Flesh burnt as he cursed the metal in embedded in the wound. Two were stopped, but the third hit true. A shot plugged into his chest, extracted now with a burrowing claw, fingers tearing out the seared viscera as his breathing became labored. Silver burnt him, annoyed the Lord of the Night to no end as he ripped out the bullet and tossed it upon the stone floors of the Solider Base. A lucky shot, nothing more than a robotic folly. A new age of technology had just barely defeated the old knight and his quick blade. But what was it for? His pride was bruised, worth far more than the chunk of lung he had just torn from his own body. Flesh would regrow, but Bedivere's pride and reputation would be... Difficult to deal with. He had destroyed much of Kilo Point, yet and managed to note his backdoor, an exit strategy he had prepared as he stepped into the waters into his world again.

Home at last. Just before the sun would rise upon the Isles. Mithias made it out, he had made certain of that much before he left. The Younger vampire was more than just an asset in their little war, but perhaps the only other soul Bedivere could call amongst his kin.

Table of Monsters

Well if we are, I rolled a 2 :I

Heavens Fall

Posted.

Since Ace has left, I'm assuming Darius is free for X to snatch up.

And I'll have Dyleon attack the temple, although is it the temple where everyone is at or another one?

Heavens Fall

A flutter of fate.
Flitting moths on White wings,
Forbidden are the Black books,
Written by the Grey Dust.

Upon the sleeve of his robe, it landed. Having flapped its paper-like wings, traveled far from nowhere and everywhere, the delicate white moth appeared. An omen recognized by the learned ones, and most certainly by the Order which bears its namesake. The question becomes, would Darius Gordock be familiar with the chosen familiar of the Lord of Whispers? Or would he like so many others uncouth and ignorant, brush it off or crush it into oblivion. The fate of the moth of course, would reflect the fate of the one who it chose.

Yet should the mage leave it be, and perhaps take notice of the presence of the moth, it would take wing once more and seem to encircle his head before flying ahead of him. Through the maze of reality and other falsehoods it would guide him, but only if his mind was sharp as the moth flitted in and out of this plane with every flutter. A test was it? To follow the white moth which blinked through the dimensions as it flew, only the worthy would become a champion after all. One chosen to inherit the secrets of everything not by divine favour, but self-merit.

And so it flew, slipping between the veil, phasing between until they would arrive at the edge of a black gate where it would land at last. Floating in the ever void, directionless, caught in the realm between the realms as X extended the gap between. Should the mage have kept up with the insect, then he would be sense the presence of divinity.

"Darius Gordock." A faceless form seemed to rise from the fabric of the realm. While the Creator forbade the gods upon earth, and the mortals in the realms of the gods, there was no such restriction in the realms in-between. A secret loophole one could suggest, as X revealed himself to the mage. "What secret do you seek?"

A secret meeting was no so secret. Between brothers, but in the between was X. Or at least as the void morphed to reflect the two gods upon the old grounds discussing amongst themselves. Darius should know of these other gods perhaps, and yet they would be unable to know of the scrying, although perhaps they should know that X was most likely privy to their conversation either by his books or his hidden presence. All the same, Darius should be careful when dealing with the Lord of Whispers, as talking to one who has seen the answers before posing the question merely poses the illusion of choice does it not? Would Darius remember any of this? Perhaps. Perhaps not. It depends on his answer. It could go... either way.

---

"Gifts from my Goddess..." Dyleon smiled, covered in the blood of innocents Slaughtered. The blood rain fell upon his form, cleansing him of unblooded flesh. Like a dark baptism, he was anointed by his Goddess, in the blood of her enemies. There would be blood, more blood and more blood, a field of endless carnage. The death count was so little compared to the gallons of blood drenched upon their combined armies. His black hair turned red, yet never stiffened from the drying by the washing of fresh blood over his body. What leathers he wore soaked itself and what skin he bared drank the ichor into his veins.

The wounds healed up, fed by the sanguine caress as Dyleon pulled the arrows out of his chest, ripping out the red feathers and shafts. He had no heart, those fools aimed true, yet would never kill him in such a way. A dozen arrows dropped to the stained earth. Three swords clattered as with a grunt the champion of blood pulled them from his side and arms. An Axe was driven into the mud, dislodged from his back. For all they did to him, nothing compared to the devotion he had for her. They could piercing him with thousands upon thousands of arrows, hack his limbs off his body, grind his bones and place his head upon a pike... But leave him his heart, in her hands where it could beat... he would still be alive and pull himself back together again for her...

Table of Monsters

He's a pinnacle of refined S'Augwin Culture.
The S'Augwin have no attachments to "family" as they are raised in group spawns.
They only pursue science and meritocracy.

Table of Monsters

"Do not rush into conclusions without considering the evidence here. While humans are a barbaric race, they are not without their merits. That being said, judging by the cause of death here, it appears there is definitely an element of the arcane involved. Although the direct cause of death seems to be exvivification, I am unfamiliar with the methodologies involved in necromancy." R'lyeh began to examine the male goblin rather casually as if it was the norm for him to begin corpse studies on another person's loved one. "I am not accustomed to goblin death rites, however I discern cause of death here to be related to this stab wound, given the angle and, depth of penetration, and shape of the wound..." Yes, he had a webbed finger exploring the body. "It feels like a dagger, slight bruising around the entry suggests a hilted dagger of significant force. A coupe-de-gras which, had unfortunately met a wall of flesh. Yet the lack of wounds from the others suggest the rest were magically slain. Or poisoned. Or suffocated. Either way, their biological processes had suddenly came to a stop without external injuries."

"What's this? Oh. Oh. That is unfortunate. It appears I have found a slight blockage in his coronary arteries. A slight build up of fatty deposits it seems." R'lyeh withdrew his hand, covered in blood as he wiped it using a nearby cloth. "I am sorry Ms. Friends, however your father would have suffered a fatal cardiac arrest within a few days regardless of his current state. Shall we consume your family members in their memory? Or do Goblins also bury their deceased?"

Table of Monsters

aw... a pity :P Oh well. the one time I get a natural 20... -grumbles-

R'lyeh, Social Tact level? 0.