Shattered Keep [Part.1-3]

As the fire elemental sat in the corner of his bare room, the flames flickering across his form made long ghostly shadows, dancing like demons upon the walls. His eyes never blinked as they were not real eyes, his form never moved, for it was not a real form. Minutes passed, and hours, and still it sat their unmoving. Simmer stirred as he felt a presence staring at him from the opposite corner of the room. In a slow seething voice, well worded but thick with annoyance, the elemental acknowledged the warrior. "What reason do you have to enter this chamber." The words echoed like knells of doom to the young warrior. Being blessed by the One saved his life that day, for he did not tremble with fear nor retort to the elemental, but rather stood still, his eyes small red glares beneath his full black helm. The purple cloak the warrior wore betrayed him with slight movement but the elemental did not mind. It made him curious, yet intrigued. So much potential. If only every warrior who gave praise to the God of Murder was so devout. Snapped come his contemplations, immediately he remembered that the warrior was still here. "Zantiath." What brings you to my room. Nodding to allow him to speak the warrior blurted out everything at once. "We're outnumbered! The heretics gather together by the gates of the Church of Celestia en masse and are beating back the warriors sent. I was sent to report to you, and ask you what to do." Simmer nodded and slowly got to his "feet". Walking out of the room without hesitation, Zantiath followed the elemental as he went to gather backup. Stopping by Vassago's and Haurelroot's rooms, he gave a quick knock and continued onward, knowing they would await him at the square. Entering the Dark Cathedral, he found Pftriscimius reading from a scroll. "Wizard, we have need of you. Your brothers are outnumbered at the gates of Celestia." The wizard's eyes darted from his scroll for a moment, a sarcastic sneer coming to his lips. "And pigs fly." Simmer growled. "This is serious Pftriscimius, it seems they have aid from the Dragon's Hoard, and some other of the clans scattered across the realms." Looking to Zantiath, he nodded and the young warrior spoke again. "Simmer speaks the truth, I saw it with my own two eyes! It seems the Tyrrans and Mystrans have also gated in to the Church of Celestia and the Dragon's Hoard as well! Against any two of them i'm sure we would have been able to handle the simple task, but their are now three churches and a powerful merchant band arrayed against us." Pftriscimius lowered his scroll and studied the young man's face for long seconds. "He speaks only the truth. Let me get my wands and scrolls, I will be ready within half a movement of the sun." Thus said, the group gathered at the Market Square of Westbridge and readied their weapons. Vassago and Pftrisicmius uttered arcane syllables and disappeared in a a cloud of purple smoke, opening a temporary gate for each of the warriors to step into. Haurelroot yawned and entered his gate lazily, while Simmer and Zantiath slid through steathily as was their typical entrance. Appearing before the entrance the two mercenaries of varying age and skill disappeared into the surroundings, scouting for hints and clues to where their kin may be lurking. Finding Jackal and Levistus, along with a small number of the remaining soldiers, they met back at the gate point. Vassago appeared suddenly, as it his wont to do, and smiled an evil leering grin. "The fools, Halo sleeps in their resting pool as if nothing goes on around him, while Zanis and the rest of them huddle behind the death traps and pin guards. There will be nothing protecting the priest from our onslaught." Haurelroot spun suddenly, sniffing the air and slammed his large nodachi down upon an innocent bush. Cleaving it in two, two dark forms jumped to the side, barely seen and barely noticable. All of Strife's champions knew them instantly thou, both from the champions knew them instantly thou, both from the customary garb of a Shadow Thief that they both wore, and from the weapons they clutched. The only question was why were they here. Pftriscimius readied his hands and let them dance into a beautiful weave, shimmering gold light forming between them. Nodding, The rest of the warriors surrounded the two and sneered. "You'd better have a good reason for being here, or your going to die right here." Jackal spat as he spoke. He was always ready to see the thieves die. Whysk brushed off his black tunic and removed his cowl, nodding to Vrulle to sheath his swords. "We're here to kill Celestians, just like you." Jackal gave a questioning look to Simmer, and Simmer shrugged. "Come along then. If you betray us, they will have to dig your burnt ashes and equipment out of my personal chest if they want anything to bury." Vrulle grinned and shrugged, slightly uneasy in this large group of Cyricists. He had faced worse odds. The group made it's way upon the gates that had been recently reinforced with a large group of Celestian guards. As the company approached they yelled for them to stay their ground and drop their weapons. Not even bothering to respond the group of the realms finest slammed into the guards, sounds of cutting swords biting through pure steel armor causing shrieks of pain to pierce the afternoon sky. Jackal and Haurelroot at the forefront with Whysk didn't even bother to parry the feeble responses, their swords cleaving soldiers often in two, the weapons slamming into the marble floor and cutting gashes into the virgin earth. Like a disease, they tore the guards and ground, the walls and gates to splinters. Blood flowed like springwater across the consecrated ground and caused the souls of those goodly heros that had been laid to rest beneath the church to cry out in unheard suffering. Making their way through the gates and scouring the halls, dispatching other pairs of guards, they found the place immaculately empty. Vassago and Pftriscimius, invisible as always, floating like ghosts through every crevice and crack, and past magical sentries and wards, finding both the pool and the hiding place of the remainder of the good forces. As they walked towards the healing pool, A darting figure made it's way with incredible stealth to the gates. No doubt it was a scout going for reinforcements. Vrulle and Zantiath were upon her long before she was aware, and as one their swords flashed into their hands as easy as if it were but a shrug, and tore great gashes into her back. Wendy screamed and stumbled towards the gates still, summoning a large cave bear to block the pursuing force. Meteors the size of barrels rained upon the bear, and in but the blink of an eye it was dead. Haurelroot and Whysk, large as oxen quickly stepped in her way, a heavy mailed fist punching her in the face stopped her in her tracks. Between the group of them, she was quick torn to shreds before anyone could notice, bits of her flesh were quickly eaten by the vermin that seemed to follow the Cyricists wherever they went. Continuing onward they approached the healing chambers, and there, all alone, sat the priest Halo. In a moment no more it was over, steel plated fingers sought vulnerable eyes and swords slit into his throat from both the left and right. A muted gurgle echoed through the now silent chamber, and the sound of his head could be heard, bubbling unused air as it floated on top of the sacred waters. Quickly snatching it up, as they had with Wendy's entrails, the wizards transferred them back to the keep for preserving, and for further enchantments that would form them into voodoo dolls. For the remainder of the time that the occupying force was within the church, no living creature dared stir or move, for the force made it's mark upon the walls and  marble, pissing and doing many other things that would desecrate the otherwise beautiful chambers. Defecating on the statue of Celestia, beating Cheiron nearly to death, the group was very pleased as they left for home. A pleasant day of work. All Hail the Lord of Three Crowns. The Prince of Lies The Lord of Murder Cyric.

The Dreams

Once again I stood in the darkness, holding my head in pain as the voices were getting louder. I tried to run from it all, but the darkness followed me no matter how far I ran. I wanted the voices to go away, yet they never stopped from the time they came. They constantly prodded at my thoughts and tried to take control of me. Every moment of my existence was being torn apart and recreated with lies. Voices of friends laughed in my head, confusing me of what happened in the past. Altered scenes from my memories were flashed across my vision, good memories were changed to bad. Hundreds of voices were going through my head telling me how worthless I was. They were forcing me to believe the memories they had created for me. I grabbed at my head trying to get the voices to stop, yet I only caused more pain for myself. My nails cut into my face, creating deep scratches. They were making me unable to think or speak, until it all went silent and I opened my eyes. He was standing in front of me again, staring at me just like before. Only this time he was laughing at me. He walked in a slow circle around me on the ground. He waved a black bladed dagger at me, laughing even more each time I opened my mouth trying to scream. Cloaked Figure, 'Will you ever realize your helpless here? There is nothing you can do to stop this. Give up on trying to fight it, you are weak and will not hold out long. We will give you a better life then what you are living right now.' I shook my head at him, trying to scream as loud as I could. The torture would never end until I gave in, yet something was preventing me from letting it take control of me. Cloaked Figure, 'Then you will continue to endure the pain!' I sat up suddenly, fully awake with the dream over. The voices still echoed through my mind, not quite as loud as they were in the dream. I could feel deep cuts and scratches all over my face, not remembering how I got them. The only thing I could remember from the dream was the figures words.

The Dreams

I awoke from a deep sleep in some strange place. There were no walls around me, just pure darkness. A grey mist swirled around me, almost as if it was alive. I could hear whispers all around me, pulling at my thoughts. When I tried to speak no words came out. The only sounds were the whispers constantly trying to break through my mind's barriers and change my thoughts. The mist began to take the form of people from my past. Changing into my family that was killed when I was younger. Forcing the thoughts of my horrible past to run through my mind. It constantly tries to break into my mind and alter everything. Then taking the form of friends lost years ago, speaking in their voices and tearing my feelings apart. I dropped to my knees, not able to stand any longer with all these thoughts and voices in my head. The mist formed into more and more people, all of them whispering in my head at once. I tried to scream but still I could not make a noise. All of the people voices in my head were laughing, driving me further and further over the edge. Then it was all silent, the voices stopped and the forms swirled into the same mist that was here in the beginning. It swirled around me, it felt cold and evil. As it swirled around me it slowly started to take shape until he stood in front of me. He stared down at me, breaking the final barriers of my mind...

Rasma's new RP part 3 *And last :P*

A battle ensues for nearly a day, spells that have never been uttered in this realm are thrown back and forth, until Rasma finally gains the upper hand, and utters "Infra abduco aufero quovis!" and gathers so much energy into him self that a slight light can be seen within his body. A shocked look comes upon Tyrannus' face as he slowly melts down through the floor Rasma then collapses once again. When Rasma comes to, everyone is surrounding him, asking a multitude of questions all at once. "What happened Rasma?" Rasma answers, "I have found who I truly am, I now have a REAL past, I now have a REAL future As bad as it is I have one." Another person asks, "So it is true? You really murdered those people?" A slight pause comes before Rasma finally answers "Yes, it is true I killed them all" A tear draws to his eye, and falls to the ground. From it, a small flower grows. "So is it also true that you are still that way? Are you still a cold blooded murderer as Tyrannus said?" Rasma replies, "I am whatever I decide to be, I have already showed myself this, I and only I, decide my future, and I chose life. Not just for me, but for all. I WILL make sure that I am never controlled again, I am the ruler of my fate, and so it shall be" Rasma's RP has changed!!! Wow, you actually read all that? That has GOT to be worth something :P Hope you liked it :P

Rasma's new RP part 2

when hecomes to, his eyes begin to dart around, with an eerie scaredness. He jumps up, and grabs the priest and puts a knife to his throat. "Where am am I? And what the hall are you doing to me?" he asks. The priest replies "You are in my infirmary, you suffered a blow to the face that broke your nose, causing you to nearly bleed to death." Rasma slowly drops the dagger, and passes back out." Three days later. Rasma has shown no improvement, so you feel that it is your duty to gather his close and dear friends to help support him through his ordeal. Until now, the priest has felt that the public should not know what had happened to him, so this is the first announcement that Rasma has been in an accident, and now lays in a coma. A much of the city gathers in honor of their fallen friend, but none can find the words to be said for him. Rasma's lips once again to move, and everyone gathers near to hear what he is saying. "See right through me. See the one that can't be free. See right through me. See the one that none should ever see." He then becomes quiet, and his body begins to shake. I slight sound of something dripping rips through the silence in the room, you look around, and notice that there is blood dripping from the ceiling. The blood slowly begins to pool together, and then begins to rise from the center, creating the image of some person that seems vaguely familiar. The image slowly takes his complete form, and the blood stops dripping. He is a large human, with wings the color of crimson. He slowly walks to the Rasma and says, "You are a fool to defy me Interfectum, no mortal has ever bested me in combat, and neither shall you." Someone from the crowd asks "His name is Rasma, not Interfectum, and get your filthy hands away from him!" The demonic figure stands and turns around, he takes a deadly gaze upon the person, and they slowly float into the air. The figure laughs, and then speaks: "You mortals are so simple minded, you were actually taken in by his charity and love, weren't you? You have no idea who this man is, do you? In my realm, this man served under me as my second in command. His expertise in battle combined with his valorous courage cut through my opposition no matter who the foe! He murdered countless people, and destroyed more villages than you can possibly imagine. He has been responsible for more deaths than any man to this date. He was so good at what he did, we changed his name, to Interfectum, which means 'Murderer' in latin, the language of my people. We ruled side by side for nearly five thousand years before he turned upon me, and laid waste to my palace. In the heat of battle, I cast a spell that would banish him from my realm, and destroy his memory. I then attempted to find him when my strength had returned, but I could no longer sense his thoughts, as he knew not of who he was. It was not until four days ago that his memory began to remember his true feelings of bloodlust. In his weakened state I attempted to purge his mind, and take him back as my servant, but he was too strong for me. I searched high and low for him, and have finally found him, and none of you shall stop me from killing him!" Rasma then jumps us, sword drawn, and strikes the man in the back, forcing him to the floor. "I shall not be taken by you Tyrannus, I shall finish what I attempted to do so long ago!" The figure slowly lifts from the ground, smiles and says, "Tyrannus! *laughs* I have not heard that name for ages, now my underlings refer to me as Caelestis Bellum. *grins* Amazing isn't it? I am given a name meaning 'absolute ruler' and they change it to a name that means" Rasma interrupts, "Caelestis Bellum The god of war. *smile* We shall see Tyrannus, this is not your realm, and I have grown in power since the last time we quarreled." Tyrannus' smile fades from his face, and he becomes angry. "I AM the god of war! None can defeat me!!! HAVE AT YOU!"

Rasma's new RP

A light fog begins to seep into the room. You stand up and draw your sword for fear of what may be entering your place of sanctuary. The fog begins to fill the room, and is now so thick that you can barely see. Through the fog you can see the silhouette of some creature. In the distance you can hear the sound of wolves howling, the almost certain sign of something being wrong. You stumble around the room, attempting to find a way out, but can find none. Then, all falls silent.. You can hear the faint clanking of feet striking the floor, but the sound seems to echo throughout the room, so you have no idea from where they are coming from. You begin to panic, as you feel that you are no longer in control of this situation. You slowing slink to the floor, and curl up, hoping whatever this creature is does not find you. Then, the fog begins to empty from the room. It clears up enough for you to be able to see around the room, but you can find no trace of someone being there. As you stand up, the ground feels as if it is shaking. You stop for a second to see if it was truly the ground, or if it was just your weakened legs. An earth shattering clap of thunder pervades the land, and then all falls silent. When you open your eyes you see a man laying on the ground, obviously in pain. You reach to help him, but he jumps up, grabbing his head and screaming! You jump back so quickly that you nearly trip yourself. If eventually calms down, and looks at you. He slowly begins to open his eyes, it is now that you notice that there is a strange light escaping from the sockets of his eyes. He moves his mouth, but no sound comes out. You take a step towards him, and he screams, "Away from me, spawn of Satan! Or you shall be slain where you stand!" You take heed to his warning and back away. You muster up all the strength you can handle, and say, "Are you okay sir?" He is quiet.. After a long moment of silence, he begins to move his lips again. He is speaking, but it is so soft that you can hardly hear him. You strain your self and piece together the sentence he is saying over and over again. "You now what you are Rasma, do not deny yourself. You know what you are Rasma, do not deny yourself." You are puzzled, because if you are not mistaken, this man is Rasma. But why would he be speaking to himself? "Excuse me. Rasma? Why are you speaking to yourself?" you ask. He begins to bob back and forth chanting, "I'm your dream. I'm your eyes.I'm your pain. YOU KNOW IT TO BE TRUE RASMA! DO NOT DENY IT!!!" He jumps up, and begins to yell at the sky. "NEVER!!!! I SHALL NOT EXCEPT THIS!!! THIS IS NOT ME!!! I HAVE LOST MYSELF, AND YOU SHALL NOT TAKE ME OVER!!!" A voice from the heavens bellows, "You are what you are, you know it to be true. Embrace your past, and take hold on your future, it is what must be done!" He withdraws a small dagger, and stabs it clean through his throat, a hissing and gurgling sound emits from his windpipe as blood pours from him, and forms a pool at the floor. "Hehe, you shall not be taken from this world that easily Rasma, I still have work for you to do." echoes from above. A blinding light begins to pour from Rasma's lacerated throat, and slowly dims. He slowly lifts from the ground by supernatural forces, and begins to shake violently. "NO!!! YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY BODY FROM ME ONCE MORE!!! YOU MAY OWN MY SOUL, BUT YOU WILL NEVER OWN MY PRIDE!!! I WILL NOT LET YOU USE ME TO HURT PEOPLE ANY LONGER!!!" he screams. A ball of electricity encompasses his body, and then explodes in a flash of blue light. He falls to the ground, face first, smashing his nose into the ground with a horrible crunching sound. A pool of blood begins to form underneath his face. You walk over to him, and flip him over. His throat has no markings of being cut, but his nose id gushing blood like it were a river. You quickly summon a priest, and have medical attention given to him.

myself and my search

My name is Mystikal Dra. I was once a wanderer that was all alone in the realms. All i knew of where i came from was alittle bit of an inscription on the relic i wear around my neck. The relic i have has been identified as a relic written in drow, so i began to search out the great drow elders of the realms. Finding them after a couple years they read the relic to me. Once they told me what it said i knew my journey has began, it told me some of where i came from and said i had a brother. After some training i ventured out from the elders. On my journeys i made some friends in a clan called DHPk. Now wearing the grand symbol of the hoard i search for the brother i never knew i had. If anyone has any information that will help me find him please let me know. I wont finish my quest until i am reunited with him once again.