I have torn through countless villages. I have single-handed brought down militias. I have defeated armies. I have killed a king. All of this, terrible. I had never before stayed behind after a battle. I like home. It is easy, it is simple. I do not know why this time I remained camped with the army. I beared witness The One Who Endures, Lord on the Rack, the Crying God Ilmater manifested in a bleeding body. His wounds never closed. They simply drained the blood from his hairy body wearing only
a breechcloth. The Suffering -- the clergy of his faith -- took notice of this man. No matter their efforts, they could not stop his bleeding.
A few chanted spells of healing, others mixing herbs together to clot the blood. They started to amass. A man appeared on the hill. Those gathered started to speak of the Exalted Sufferer. This was the leader of their religion. Truly it was a sight to behold. The Exalted Sufferer descended to the bleeding man, and held out his hand. Though it obviously bore the bleeding man great pain, he stood and walked with the Exalted Sufferer. Horses were brought. The man was mounted, and had begun to wail in pain. They started to strike out at our army in camp. The bleeding man used his hands like shortswords. I took notice and secured my chainmail to the boiled leather underbody. The bleeding man was an efficient machine. No one noticed me while the bleeding man obliterated. I motioned for my squire to mount my fullplate mail. I grabbed my great helm, fastened it, and made for my horse. I rode away quickly. I knew this bleeding man would endure anything I could sustain against him.
As I left camp, a Sufferer waved for me to halt. I reached to my side and readied my greatsword. I meant to cut him down, but something stopped me. I slowed my horse. "Haven't you heard?" he asked. "Ilmater has blessed us with his presence. His avatar defeats those who caused this suffering!" I had to ride on. This was Ilmater incarnated. He was there for me. My long time of service, of rape, of murder, of shame. I know now I must repent for what I have done, so the Crying God may once again manifest himself.
Diary of a mad man
Entering the room Rosso knew what this meeting was about, his life and death in the clan Long Death. In the room there was Rahvin, pheniox,Darxal and Mortis the head masters of the clan. Only Pheniox spoke, with such a loud tone it couldn't be forgotten you must surrender your soul to death. Show us you have what it takes to be one of us. Rosso begin to speak about his clan symbol then stopped. He nodded in approval and with that he was off to Market square.
Day 1
There sat Devout, Stephy,Dimitri and another person I didn't recognize. I knew I must get their attention somehow so I asked the paperboy for a quest, hoping that they would follow. But I was too fast for them. I had to come back and fight my way to death. So It happened the first kill, so powerful it crashed his heart and soul to remove his clan symbol. When I came back into reality my life force was down and devout of the hoard had healed me to my death, so his friend hit me once again I was faced with another trial do I go back and fulfill my destiny or do I sit idly by and watch it go to waste.
Day 2
I arrived back at market square some hours later the dust had settled no one was there, and then came a halforc gladiator by the name of Zekai a few pokes of him to me got him furious to hit me. This trial was to watch my life before my eyes. To not attack just to watch. Zekai fell flat at least a dozen times but in the end I lay flat from his blade.
day 3
I awoke quickly with a start the next trial being friendship, I found Xeptimus sitting on the bench questioning what I was doing there why I was hitting him. He gave into temptation and attacked and once again I fell to a blade.
day 4
The next trial was a gang bang. Die to as many people as possible: I ran to market square as fast as I could gassed the room and five of them pop out of the smoke and are all on me. I try to fight back it's to much I fall to Dimitri.
day 5
The next trial, die to a priest to come back wealthy in the afterlife. I didn't heal for this one. I know priests are the worse. I found the target. It was Devout the devoted hoard member, I sent a rock his way and one hit of his weapon I fell once again
day 6
Trial 6 die to your own kind: looking for another spell caster like myself I found the lonely vonrak sitting there sipping on a Lipton ice tea I attacked him first but his friends sipping on juice boxes hit me too but in the end I fell to a rock.
day 7
Day of reckoning get help to fight a known enemy, then die by him: I found 3 buddies and attempted to kill variable the invariable but the weapon was to strong it was my weakness. In seconds I died.
day 8
The day of rebirth: Die to be a born again clansmen. I rushed to market square so fast knowing this was the end of the trial. Found my target then died to Variable the invariable.
Signed, Rosso deh Aposso
Day 1
There sat Devout, Stephy,Dimitri and another person I didn't recognize. I knew I must get their attention somehow so I asked the paperboy for a quest, hoping that they would follow. But I was too fast for them. I had to come back and fight my way to death. So It happened the first kill, so powerful it crashed his heart and soul to remove his clan symbol. When I came back into reality my life force was down and devout of the hoard had healed me to my death, so his friend hit me once again I was faced with another trial do I go back and fulfill my destiny or do I sit idly by and watch it go to waste.
Day 2
I arrived back at market square some hours later the dust had settled no one was there, and then came a halforc gladiator by the name of Zekai a few pokes of him to me got him furious to hit me. This trial was to watch my life before my eyes. To not attack just to watch. Zekai fell flat at least a dozen times but in the end I lay flat from his blade.
day 3
I awoke quickly with a start the next trial being friendship, I found Xeptimus sitting on the bench questioning what I was doing there why I was hitting him. He gave into temptation and attacked and once again I fell to a blade.
day 4
The next trial was a gang bang. Die to as many people as possible: I ran to market square as fast as I could gassed the room and five of them pop out of the smoke and are all on me. I try to fight back it's to much I fall to Dimitri.
day 5
The next trial, die to a priest to come back wealthy in the afterlife. I didn't heal for this one. I know priests are the worse. I found the target. It was Devout the devoted hoard member, I sent a rock his way and one hit of his weapon I fell once again
day 6
Trial 6 die to your own kind: looking for another spell caster like myself I found the lonely vonrak sitting there sipping on a Lipton ice tea I attacked him first but his friends sipping on juice boxes hit me too but in the end I fell to a rock.
day 7
Day of reckoning get help to fight a known enemy, then die by him: I found 3 buddies and attempted to kill variable the invariable but the weapon was to strong it was my weakness. In seconds I died.
day 8
The day of rebirth: Die to be a born again clansmen. I rushed to market square so fast knowing this was the end of the trial. Found my target then died to Variable the invariable.
Signed, Rosso deh Aposso
The Exiled Soul -I-
What dreams I've had of late, and yet not a single nightmare. There wasn't any reason tonight would be different than the hundreds previous. The God I once knew had abandoned me. Tossed aside like a plaything that was no longer amusing. The night sky in the hills this time of year was actually very pretty, but there was no solace in it. I had once drew power from the God of Nightmares, but the haze of such a time was fading as it it were only a Nightmare.
Often I'd think about how easily we'd been swept aside in the end. The armies of Vector were strong enough to force a foothold and scare the Tripower into submission for years. Even with Kefka dead, they were perhaps now even more dangerous. Might is right. There's no denying it. The events of the last 10 years had hardened my heart. Not that I was weak before, I'd delighted in being the Nightmare of Magic, the Exile, the bringer of death. But there was nothing left to persue along those lives. The person who had championed the night may as well be dead. Even my own magical aura seemed to pulse with energy that was not of the Gods.
There was no more sleep left for tonight and I stood up from my small camp and began packing my things. I thought how strange it was that I should wait all this time before making this journey. It seemed unbelieveable that the old "hell hath no fury" line didn't quite apply. There were reasons far beyond the obvious for finding her place again. Perhaps, there were those who would take her in. It could just be that she would wind up the Exile once more. Searching for meaning in life.
But then again...
Perhaps, It was time to find some old "friends"...
Often I'd think about how easily we'd been swept aside in the end. The armies of Vector were strong enough to force a foothold and scare the Tripower into submission for years. Even with Kefka dead, they were perhaps now even more dangerous. Might is right. There's no denying it. The events of the last 10 years had hardened my heart. Not that I was weak before, I'd delighted in being the Nightmare of Magic, the Exile, the bringer of death. But there was nothing left to persue along those lives. The person who had championed the night may as well be dead. Even my own magical aura seemed to pulse with energy that was not of the Gods.
There was no more sleep left for tonight and I stood up from my small camp and began packing my things. I thought how strange it was that I should wait all this time before making this journey. It seemed unbelieveable that the old "hell hath no fury" line didn't quite apply. There were reasons far beyond the obvious for finding her place again. Perhaps, there were those who would take her in. It could just be that she would wind up the Exile once more. Searching for meaning in life.
But then again...
Perhaps, It was time to find some old "friends"...
prayers for a dying monk
The Order had clashed with the warriors of Shar protecting Belldandy's escape. Their defensive position had entrenched them within the body of the confrontation. The warriors of Shar were fierce creatures with the head of a dragon the body of a lizard and the temperament of a caged weasel. The Order fought them back but Belldandy's action must have triggered their anger; after her escape the warrior engraved. We had been on the Fields of Shar previously and the dragomen where never like this before. The fight had drained a lot of effort; yet The Order had successfully withstood the attack and had suppressed the warriors aggression. What ever she had done she was keen to have hidden the body of the unbinding ritual from the Order.
Since the battle The order had been trying to play catchup, a game they were not used to playing. The group had gathered at the temple every night in numbers for the past week. They had become stuck with something that seemed so simple. Restore the dying monk.
The dying monk would likely help them with the unbinding ritual. The Nexus Monk himself had proven less than helpful. But the dying monk fought for the words to speak to the group. The group felt the task of freeing the gods slipping from their gasp. Psycho sensed the growing tension within the group and so he ventured to Material Plane and within The Temple of Mask and knelt before Mask's statue and began to pray.
'Oh Mask, Lord of the Shadows savior of The Nexus Temple and the City of Shade please hear my prayers. When we last spoke I asked about the unbinding ritual. I have had significant difficulties preforming the ritual and my men are growing weary. I implore you to again speak with us and help us to reach the Nexus Library. We have fallen behind and without guidance I fear that our resources may not hold, and we will be forced to remove our camp within the Shadow Temple. We still maintain our pledge to free the god and restore Magic and Order to the realms again.'
Since the battle The order had been trying to play catchup, a game they were not used to playing. The group had gathered at the temple every night in numbers for the past week. They had become stuck with something that seemed so simple. Restore the dying monk.
The dying monk would likely help them with the unbinding ritual. The Nexus Monk himself had proven less than helpful. But the dying monk fought for the words to speak to the group. The group felt the task of freeing the gods slipping from their gasp. Psycho sensed the growing tension within the group and so he ventured to Material Plane and within The Temple of Mask and knelt before Mask's statue and began to pray.
'Oh Mask, Lord of the Shadows savior of The Nexus Temple and the City of Shade please hear my prayers. When we last spoke I asked about the unbinding ritual. I have had significant difficulties preforming the ritual and my men are growing weary. I implore you to again speak with us and help us to reach the Nexus Library. We have fallen behind and without guidance I fear that our resources may not hold, and we will be forced to remove our camp within the Shadow Temple. We still maintain our pledge to free the god and restore Magic and Order to the realms again.'
An Intriguing Study (Part 2)
As Azeroth continues watching the line of Hordies entering the tent where moans and mumbles can be heard, one of the Horde members stood out because of the uncanny size of his asshole, that can be seen from a distance.
"Let's call this one Ass..." said Azeroth to himself.
Ass was naked, body glistening in sweat under the hot summer sun. It was his turn as he enter the Leader of the Horde's tent. Sounds of groans can be heard, follow by loud screams and moans of pleasure.
Exits Ass from the tent, suddenly decked out in gear...his lips sore, driping with white fluid and saliva.
"What the fuck?" thought Azeroth to himself as he packs his shit and heads back to MagiTek Fortress to report his findings...
"Let's call this one Ass..." said Azeroth to himself.
Ass was naked, body glistening in sweat under the hot summer sun. It was his turn as he enter the Leader of the Horde's tent. Sounds of groans can be heard, follow by loud screams and moans of pleasure.
Exits Ass from the tent, suddenly decked out in gear...his lips sore, driping with white fluid and saliva.
"What the fuck?" thought Azeroth to himself as he packs his shit and heads back to MagiTek Fortress to report his findings...
An Intriguing Study (Part 1)
One day, Azeroth was walking along when he saw some individuals from the clan called the Horde. They were fully geared. As Azeroth takes a closer look, he realizes that they were all lining up one by one...entering a tent...which Azeroth believes, resides the Leader of the Horde.
Everytime someone enters the tent, weird noises can be weird, of moans and lust, and out came them, fatigued, but well equiped.
Azeroth wonders what is happening in this tent as every single person of the Horde enters in and comes out with gear.
One day, we will find out...
Everytime someone enters the tent, weird noises can be weird, of moans and lust, and out came them, fatigued, but well equiped.
Azeroth wonders what is happening in this tent as every single person of the Horde enters in and comes out with gear.
One day, we will find out...
Magical Disturbance
A disturbance in the weave snapped Vorcet back to reality, with a dizzying rush the world came back into focus. How long had he been out this time? Vorcet lookad at his hands which had been frozen in a pose of meditation for gods knew how long. Dust covered the backs of his hands and a spider web hung from the sleeve of his robe. Vorcet stretched his arms and legs out gingerly, getting the long dead muscles back into working order. Finally he stood and slipped into trance to search for the disturbance that had brought him out of his restorative meditation.
To the west of his house in torregiano something was different. Vorcet knew what it was. Izuna had been found and neutralized, the book of evil that had corrupted his psyche taken from him. The curse on that forsaken island had fed from that book and had protected it from Vorcet's attempts to retrieve it. Vorcet could feel the book leaving the island. Vorcet slipped out of trance for a moment and openned a scrying window to the location of the book. The window openned to the Market Square pub in westbridge and a few adventurers gathered around a table sharing drinks.
Vorcet focused in on the one the book in question now sat in front of. He was a tall human wearing the robes common among those that trained in the newly established Monk guilds in New Thalos. Well worn sandals peek out from beneath the hem of his robes. The man's focus apears to only be partly on the celebratory mood of his companions as it continually slips back to the book now in his posession.
Sentient objects rarely make good companions as they tend to have goals of their own in mind for their owners, Vorcet needed to warn that monk about what he now found himself the owner of.
Vorcet shook teh dust from his robe which was wrinkled from being in the same position for so long. He sighed and walked through the house to his personal suite of rooms and pulled a new robe from the wardrobe in the corner. He shrugged out of the old one and slipped the new one on and fastened his belt about his waist. Whips in place, and spell components stored about his person he felt almost human again. He called in the doorway to his magically created pocket of reality where he stored his important objects. He stepped into the small work room and pulled a key off the chain around his neck. He unlocked a cabinet and pulled the small gem out and inspected it closely. The dull glow of the facets was enough to tell him that he had stored enough energy to remain concious for a good amount of time. Vorcet carefully placed the phylactery back on the shelf and closed the cabinet doors. After locking the cabinet and replacing the key around his neck, Vorcet exited his room and made the door dissapear once more.
Vorcet stepepd out into the garden behind the house and to the circle of runes and chanted the words that would take him to a secluded location jsut outside the town of westbridge. After the lurch of shifting location was over, Vorcet pulled his hood up over his head and set about hunting down the new owner of that cursed spellbook.
To the west of his house in torregiano something was different. Vorcet knew what it was. Izuna had been found and neutralized, the book of evil that had corrupted his psyche taken from him. The curse on that forsaken island had fed from that book and had protected it from Vorcet's attempts to retrieve it. Vorcet could feel the book leaving the island. Vorcet slipped out of trance for a moment and openned a scrying window to the location of the book. The window openned to the Market Square pub in westbridge and a few adventurers gathered around a table sharing drinks.
Vorcet focused in on the one the book in question now sat in front of. He was a tall human wearing the robes common among those that trained in the newly established Monk guilds in New Thalos. Well worn sandals peek out from beneath the hem of his robes. The man's focus apears to only be partly on the celebratory mood of his companions as it continually slips back to the book now in his posession.
Sentient objects rarely make good companions as they tend to have goals of their own in mind for their owners, Vorcet needed to warn that monk about what he now found himself the owner of.
Vorcet shook teh dust from his robe which was wrinkled from being in the same position for so long. He sighed and walked through the house to his personal suite of rooms and pulled a new robe from the wardrobe in the corner. He shrugged out of the old one and slipped the new one on and fastened his belt about his waist. Whips in place, and spell components stored about his person he felt almost human again. He called in the doorway to his magically created pocket of reality where he stored his important objects. He stepped into the small work room and pulled a key off the chain around his neck. He unlocked a cabinet and pulled the small gem out and inspected it closely. The dull glow of the facets was enough to tell him that he had stored enough energy to remain concious for a good amount of time. Vorcet carefully placed the phylactery back on the shelf and closed the cabinet doors. After locking the cabinet and replacing the key around his neck, Vorcet exited his room and made the door dissapear once more.
Vorcet stepepd out into the garden behind the house and to the circle of runes and chanted the words that would take him to a secluded location jsut outside the town of westbridge. After the lurch of shifting location was over, Vorcet pulled his hood up over his head and set about hunting down the new owner of that cursed spellbook.
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