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Enter, The Darkness [RP Thread]

Started by Ravager, October 13, 2011, 02:47:03 AM

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"All in black? Really?" Xan panted exasperatedly. Resetting his pose, he suddenly had a brainwave - could these Revenants be unsummoned as effectively as they had appeared?
So how many crashes have I survived now?

Scout Sergeant Mkoll

Oan cursed as he saw the Revenants appear in the circle. The tower shields would mean his shots had to be inch perfect to stand a chance.

Whispering a prayer to Sheia he knocked an arrow to his bow and loosed...
Mkoll's Awesome Card Counter: +8

May the brave be remembered forever. Farewell our friends.

Quote from: Mabbz on June 03, 2011, 10:43:53 AM
Mkoll wins.

Quote from: LordDemon
Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to catch you.

[img]http

Ravager Zero

Tybalt took careful aim at the nearest of the revenants. The visors on their abyssal armour seemed to be the only weakpoints. The runesmith squeezed the trigger of his rifle, the lead bullet drawing sparks as it glanced from the side of the nearest revenant's visor. Tybalt took a breath and sighted in again as the revenant began to rise. The bullet slammed into the revenant's shield. It didn't even dent the metal. On the other side of the circle Xan was trying to call forth something to fight the revenants with. Anything powerful in combat, but smart enough to be precise about its powers. There were not a whole lot of things he could think of. In the end he settled on trying to summon something small, fast, and dangerous.

He wound up with a pack of thumpers. Voraciously hungry thumpers. With obedience issues. Cursing loudly Xan fell behind a workbench, angrily dismissing the rabbit-like carnivores. Hearing several minor explosions informed him that someone else was having more luck with their attack.

Kraytor pulled the skeins towards himself, left arm held high in front of his face, right arm slowly rising and clenching his fist. The skeins obeyed his will, coalescing into small destructive orbs above the revenants. The massive shaman dropped his right arm in a sudden slashing gesture. His left arm dropped at the same time, forming a fist from his open palm. An inky blackness fell from the ceiling in indistinct lines before slamming into each of the revenants. Shockwaves of dark energies rippled across the hall. Kraytor stared at his infernal enemies. Each of them slowly, solemnly lowered their shields from above their heads.

Kahlan stood next to the alcove with the glowstones. If anyone wanted them, either to fuel something or to remove the possibility of awakening Nyrvan, they would have to go through her first. The revenant nearest her—the one Tybalt had shot—took a half step forwards, out of Kjellson's circle. Then it slammed the edge of it's shield into the stony floor of the runesmith's hall. Thunder echoed off the walls and everything nearby was sent flying outwards by an invisible hand. Tybalt landed hard on an overturned workbench, almost denting the back of his breastplate.

Thomas was flung against the wall next to Kahlan, struggling to remain conscious as he rose unsteadily to his feet. Master Liiwiz was launched high into the air, being the nearest to the revenant when it attacked. He landed heavily on a stack of books and other materials the group had previously shifted. He considered himself lucky, if somewhat bruised. Kahlan was spared the full force of the attack, being somewhat more distant. She was still knocked unceremoniously onto her ass, managing to maintain her grip on each of her daggers.

The revenant nearest Atlas, Rock and the other warriors charged forwards, arrowing straight for the injured dwarf. Atlas met it head on, swinging both axes with every ounce of strength he had. The revenant bowled past him, sending him tumbling across the floor. Rock's hammer slammed into its shield with a noise like a ton of scrap metal falling off a mountain. The revenant staggered, nearly smashed sideways by the impact. The revenant's blade fell, intercepted by the shaft of Rock's hammer.

In the corner of the hall master Liiwiz was concentrating on the most effective combination of runes to use at the current moment. Something to constantly heal his current allies. Something simple. He drew the shapes carefully in the air, speaking each aloud as he did so.

"Mak'ur," the rune of cleansing.
"Najivita," the rune of renewal.
"Praetis," the rune of ownership.

Seeing the revenant that had attacked him still standing, Thomas flicked the clockwork mechanism atop the orb he was holding into action. He threw the orb as hard as he could at the infernal creature. The orb bounced from the top edge of the revenant's shield, sailed through the air for several feet and finally exploded with a massive concussive shockwave. The revenant staggered forwards, blue fire leaching from massive holes torn open in its back and blasted through its armour.

"Hold it still laddie!" Atlas shouted, rising and swinging the axe of force at the revenant's shield. With its blade still bound against Rock's hammer it couldn't properly deflect the blow. The abyssal iron deformed beneath the blade of the axe, creasing like paper. In that shape it would prove to be much less useful as a shield.

Oan took stock of the revenants facing them. They were not much different from the ones Galithir had once commanded. These ones wore armour, and carried different weapons, but they appeared to be the same underneath it all. Which meant they were essentially souls bound to immortal bodies, currently clad in abyssal armour. Oan loosed an arrow, aiming for the infernal creature's neck. The arrowhead sparked as it skated from the bevor of the armour. Beside him Oan sensed Maggs readying a shot as he moved to cover Emily. The arrow embedded itself in the revenant's shield.

Near the centre of the room Kjellson drew in a great breath. All the skeins seemed to rush towards him filling him with power. He drank in this power, reveling in the purity of purpose he felt of those around him. Wisps of their aenima trailed inwards with the skeins he was absorbing. All the other mages in the hall could feel it. All of them knew it was going to be big. They also knew it was going to take time.

The last revenant, the one closest to Oan and Maggs, suddenly turned, a trail of darkness following it as it ran for the revenant damaged by Thomas's grenade. It stopped just in front of its injured partner, flourishing its blade and planting its shield. It was daring someone to attack either of them. In front of the lone revenant Marcus took a half step forwards and planted himself firmly in a defensive stance in front of the dwarves. Nothing was going to get past him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Emily sneaking away from Oan and Maggs, drawing her pistol, using the overturned benches for cover as she advanced towards the revenants attacking Tybalt and Kahlan.

Rock was standing his ground, keeping in front of Atlas. He was not going to let his kin down. Not today. But the revenants were unsettling to be around. They left a chill across his soul—if he'd known that phrase. He saw them as armoured ghosts or zombies. Unnatural creatures. Infernal. Something to rightfully be afraid of. The young dwarf gripped the shaft of his hammer tightly. As long as he had Hammer he did not have to be afraid. And if he was not afraid, he could act.

"Not scared of you!" Rock shouted at the nearest revenant. It seemed to blink lazily, uncaring of anything except its inscrutable objective.

Rolling from the broken workbench, Tybalt scooped his rifle from the floor and dropped to a kneeling position, snapping off two quick shots at the most damaged of the revenants. One shot made its shield ring like a church bell. The second punched clean through, but ultimately missed the infernal creature, splintering another bench across the room. He could feel someone drawing the skeins together, giving them form and purpose. On the far side of the hall Xan was calling forth a powerful beast to do his bidding. One that hopefully would not wreck the runesmiths hall.

What he got was a storm elemental. Lightning built and arced from its limbs as its core glowed with actinic fury. It was head and shoulders taller than any other combatant in the room. Lightning arced and skittered all around as it slammed into the revenant closest to Xan. It caught a shield to the face for its efforts, but the shield stuck fast. Blue-white sparks engulfed the shield, and with a thunderous boom, it was gone. The revenant staggered back, still trying to cover its comrade.

Kahlan took in a deep breath, centering herself, using her magesense to determine who was most injured at this point in time. It had to be Atlas. Shaky on his feet, and already having taken a beating from something else earlier in the day. She wove the skeins with her fists—not as effective as having free hands, but useful when holding a weapon—the Essence salved some of the dwarven warrior's hurt, but it wasn't much. Whatever Kjellson was doing was taking far more Essence than he thought.

The most damaged of the revenants suddenly blurred, leaving a smoky trail of darkness across the hall. Thomas gasped in pain, a fell blade protruding from his back. The revenant drove him back with its shield, leaving the inventor in a pool of blood. The other revenant, the one that had been closest to Marcus and the dwarves blurred, and Kahlan saw its silhouette grow larger in an instant. She stepped aside at the last instant, giving it a clear path to the glowstones. Then she drove each of her daggers deep into the undead flesh beneath the revenant's unarmoured armpit and lower back plate. Blue white fire began to rise like smoke from her daggers and Kahlan knew she'd struck something vital.

Master Liiwiz was once again scrying for the best combination of runes to invoke. This time it needed to be something to finish the fight, and finish it quickly. The problem was such invocations tended to take time to prepare—or have another cost, just like sacrificial magick. But Kjellson had said they might be attempting to summon Ruin. That could not be allowed to happen. It would cost, it would take time, but it would work.

"Ananta," the endless rune. It would take time to complete the invocation, this rune would serve to extend it.
"Dukator," the rune of focus. The invocation would require more Essence than normal.
"Leritas," the rune of accuracy. It would not do for such an attack to go astray.
"Asardital," the rune of force. To increase the strength of the attack.
"Nihilo," the rune of destruction.

Skeins slowly drew towards Liiwiz, whipping themselves into a frenzy. The ancient runesmith held his hands in front of his chest as if grasping a large sphere. He was—but its form was not physical. He was drawing it—very carefully—from the realms of magick into the physical realm. That was the secret of the runesmith's art. It made magick real.

"You fight like a coward," Thomas coughed, leveling the snapbow on his wrist at the head of the revenant that had mortally wounded him. The catch inside the barrel released the spring holding back the quarrel. The dart slammed full force into the revenant's shield, boring through it and drawing sparks from the armour behind it.

"Coward," Thomas repeated, firing the snapbow's second barrel. The bolt pierced the revenant's breastplate, dissolving into blue-white fire.

Atlas assessed which of the revenants was closest. The big ugly one Kahlan had stabbed. The one fighting the lightning wotsit Xan had summoned. No, the one that had just tried to kill one of their erstwhile friends. Roraring a guttural dwarven warcry to Kazun, Atlas charged, slamming into the back of the revenant, bringing both of his axes crashing down on its weakened armour. Its armour sundered and its flesh torn, the revenant's spirit broke free in an explosion that flattened everything for ten feet around it. Including Atlas. And Thomas. The dwarven warrior staggered to his feet, surveying the wreckage of the abyssal slowly falling to the floor.

Oan saw his chance when the remaining pair of revenants staggered. Nocking an arrow the ranger let fly at the revenant fighting the storm elemental Xan had summoned. It was safer than trying to nail the revenant grappling with Kahlan. His first arrow punctured the infernal creature's breastplate, driving almost halfway through it. The second arrow lodged in its pauldron. Two arrows from Maggs followed at almost the same moment, one sticking into the revenants poleyn, the other landing next to Oan's second arrow in its shoulder.

Fire swirled around Kjellson's left arm as he raised it from beside his waist. Lightning crackled across his right arm as it rose. A chill wind seemed to ice the floor around him for several feet. Flames of chaotic darkness seemed to limn his shoulders as he slowly brought his arms forwards and together. Kraytor could feel raw power flowing from the skeins through this man. This unassuming man that was somehow the most powerful mage he had ever encountered. A balst of chaotic fire leapt from Kjellson's clawed hands, trailing lightning and frost as it sought its target. Slower than an arrow, but faster than anything could run.

The revenant in front of the storm elemental was utterly consumed by the attack, its armour shattered, its blade melted, flesh turned to ice and its spirit transfixed. For an instant it seemed to drink in all the pain and suffering the attack had inflicted on it, rising to its implacable feet. The blue-white fire of its spirit reached a blinding crescendo of power as it broke free of its infernal shackles. Shards of abyssal armour littered the floor. No one saw that in its death throes it had obliterated the outline of Kjellson's ritual trap.

Kahlan heard a crackling behind her, but couldn't spare a glance to discover what it was. Keeping the revenant at bay was taking all of her skill with her daggers. Injured it might have been, but it sure as hell didn't seem bothered by the fact—more pissed off. A feint attack let her see someone lay a hand upon the entire cabinet with the glowstones. The crackling sound built to a tumble of thunder, and Kahlan dived from the revenant, burying a dagger in the stranger's back—or at least she tried to. There was a soft crack as air rushed into where the man and the cabinet had been.

Only then did she notice that most of her dagger was missing. And only after realizing that did she she was missing her bottom finger and part of her hand. As she staggered back in shock, Kahlan saw something large and heavily armoured slam into the revenant. It was followed by a deeply concussive boom, and a semi-familiar flash of light. It was enough to stagger the revenant so Marcus could land the fatal follow-up blow. His hammer slammed into the infernal creature's breastplate, stoving in the centre of it and eliciting an ear-splitting shriek of tortured metal.

The explosion slammed Marcus into the far wall of the alcove, denting the stone. Kahlan slammed hard into the edge of a cabinet and slid down to the ground. They'd failed. The revenants were dead, but their adversary had gotten his hands on the glowstones—and whatever else was in that cabinet. With their sudden victory they all tasted the bitter ashes of defeat. The runesmiths hall was shambles. Wrecked benches everywhere, damaged books, several cabinets damaged by shards of armour or errant shots.

Aside from the workbenches most of the damage seemed superficial. Nothing a good clean and some masonry or geomancy wouldn't fix. Xan dismissed the storm elemental. The fight was over, there was no further need for it. Liiwiz muttered a desperate counter-invocation, flooding the skeins with Essence—overflowing Essence that caused them to roil like a turbulent sea. Magick nearby would be unpredictable for some time. Emily rose from behind the workbench she had been using for cover. She carefully uncocked her pistol.

Everyone gathered round the alcove Kahlan had been protecting. They could all see the gap where the cabinet had been. They could all see proof positive that she'd let them down. They also saw the curious scorch marks on the floor. The way the other cabinets and the back wall seemed to have been scooped out. They could also hear Kjellson swearing, sotto voce, about fulgromancers.

Health

Kraytor: 12/16 HP
Kahlan: 7/15 HP [Scarred — Chest, Missing Finger]
Oan: 15/15 HP
Marcus: 19/21 HP
Tybalt: 15/16 HP
Xan: 14/14 HP
Atlas: 6/19 HP [Concussed]
Rock: 9/19 HP
Emily: 15/15 HP
Thomas: 1/16 HP [Critically Injured]
Maggs: 16/16 HP

Kjellson: 12/12 HP
Liiwiz: 12/15 HP

Revenant A: 26Damage [No Shield]
Revenant B: 29 Damage
Revenant C: 27 Damage [Disrupted]
Rav's Awesome Card Counter: +2

Quote from: Kane
...and whipped cream, a bottle of baileys, seven pairs of non-matching shoes, a combine harvester, a box of matches, and three indie rock bands drunk off their skull is technically acceptable on private property.

Mabbz

Kahlan stared at her mutilated hand, before suddenly starting to giggle. Had she been able to think straight she might have realised she was going into shock. As it was, her reaction was somewhat less... sensible. She began waving her injured hand at everyone.

"Guys?" she said, still giggling deliriously. "Watch where you step! I think I dropped something. Has anyone seen my finger?"

InsaneTD

Tybalt swore, checked his rifle was uncocked and shouldered it. He rushed over to help Kahlan while yelling, "Xan, help Thomas! Liiwiz, tell Kjellson what was in that cabinet and work out possible targets."

He started looking over Kahlans injuries and carefully drawing essence to himself ready to heal her.

Scout Sergeant Mkoll

Oan took stock of the situation. They'd done well, held their own and really hurt the Revenants, but ultimately, they had failed.

"Well, this is going to be a problem." he said to the room at large.

"Kraytor," he asked "can you, or any other mage track them do you think? Now that we know what we're looking for I mean. Anything we can do to narrow the search will help."
Mkoll's Awesome Card Counter: +8

May the brave be remembered forever. Farewell our friends.

Quote from: Mabbz on June 03, 2011, 10:43:53 AM
Mkoll wins.

Quote from: LordDemon
Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to catch you.

[img]http

The Man They Call Jayne

#951
"I will do what I can ranger."

The shamans ego was bruised from his failure, which in turn made him angry. Somebody would pay for this. He would find them, one way or another, and when he did, there would be no pussyfooting around.

He sighed inwardly. One day he would learn to stop holding back while around other people.
Jaynes Awesome Card Counter: +5

Secondspheres Crash Card Counter +4



Narric

Atlas holstered his Axes, and sat on the flour. His head was pounding, and was feeling a little fatigued from a long day of fighting. He hadn't taken notice of what was happening around him.

He started to chant a small prayer of health to his gods, Kazun and Nata.

HectorSmash

Rock mimicked Atlas and sat down beside him. The young Dwarf's body was electric and shaking with the thrill of battle, and the undefinable feeling of having 'made it' - he'd just fought scary monsters alongside Atlas and some friends! Despite his shivering and fairly poor state, he couldn't help a wide grin.

Scout Sergeant Mkoll

Oan set about disarming the traps he and Maggs had set up. There was no further use for them, their enemy had what they came for, and if they were left then innocent people would be harmed.

Maggs saw what Oan was doing and set off in the opposite direction to work around, meeting Oan in the middle.

"Good to see you remember some of what I've taught you at least" Oan grinned to his friend as they worked on the last few traps.

"Aye, learned a few new things too" Maggs replied. "Maybe you'll find out what if you pay attention." he added with a chuckle.
Mkoll's Awesome Card Counter: +8

May the brave be remembered forever. Farewell our friends.

Quote from: Mabbz on June 03, 2011, 10:43:53 AM
Mkoll wins.

Quote from: LordDemon
Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to catch you.

[img]http

Ravager Zero

Rolls

Tybalt took Kahlan's injured hand in his own, inspecting the injury. It was strange, and possibly the cleanest cut he had ever seen. There was no blood, and no burnt flesh around the wound. Kahlan's hand still shook, and the lower edge, where it had ben cut by the magick, was blackened and burnt. There really wasn't anything he could do to heal that kind of injury, but he could heal Kahlan herself. Weaving the skeins together, he invoked the rune Kaduse, and Kahlan felt healthier and a little less fractured.

Emily rushed to Thomas's side, searching frantically for anything to stop the bleeding with before remembering everyone was probably carrying bandages, or had some magickal skill at healing.

"Somebody help me!" she cried to the room. "Thomas is badly injured."

Being the closest, Kahlan rushed—staggered—to Emily's side, placing her hands on Thomas's chest and stomach. What she felt with the skeins was not good. The inventor's wound was mortal, and unless someone intervened he was going to die. Kahlan wove the skeins together, uniting them inside Thomas's injured body, but to no avail. She could move the skeins, but she couldn't transform them to her magicks. The residual shock she was feeling was blocking her from performing magick properly.

"Xan, get over here!"

The summoner hurried over, already trying to work the skeins together. Kahlan could feel it working right away, and couldn't fight off a pang of jealousy. Thomas took in great gulp of air, struggling to remain conscious. He could feel again. The problem was that all he could feel was pain. A hand went to the hole in his chest, but Emily brushed it away, opening his shirt to wrap the bandage around him.

"It's not much," Xan informed them. "He'll need a chirurgeon or a more skilled healer soon, but he'll live for now."

"Thanks," Thomas coughed out. "I owe you."

Kraytor took Oan's words to heart, needing no further urging to try and find their foe, he drew the skeins to himself, drawing an anchor between his core and the place where the fulgromancer had departed. Something was wrong. As soon as he tried to follow any of those skeins, to force his way through the portal, they collapsed. Loess, the old man had called it. Here he was seeing it happen before his very eyes—or with his magesense at the least. Apparently the fulgromancer knew to cover his tracks well, a fact caused the anger to rise sharply within the massive shaman. He growled in frustration, and there was a minor explosion somewhere overhead, sending dust raining from the ceiling around him.

"Let me try," Kjellson said quietly, placing a hand on the shaman's shoulder. Kraytor merely grunted his assent. This new mage might be more powerful than him, but he hadn't earned the shaman's respect yet.

Kjellson started by grabbing the chalk once again, drawing a double-ringed circle around himself, transcribing various symbols inside the ring. Around this circle he sketched a rough map of Hygar. Into each section of the map he placed a magestone. Then he sat in the centre of the circle, legs crossed, hands on his knees, palms up. His breathing slowed and his presence seemed to shift. Suddenly all the magestones were glowing. A pale white light, flickering and fitful, but it was there. Around those lights the other mages in the room could feel the skeins building a very different map of Hygar.

One at a time each of the stones glowed brighter, bright enough cast sharply defined shadows across the chalk map, then went dark. This went on for several minutes. When the last magestone had grown dark, Kjellson took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

"I have found three fulgromancers within the city. One is currently in a room in the Great Halls. One is at the Academy. The last one is in the Hollow. I managed to catch a word or a name. Does "Sanna" have any significance to you?"

Health

Kraytor: 12/16 HP
Kahlan: 10/15 HP [Scarred — Chest, Missing Finger]
Oan: 15/15 HP
Marcus: 19/21 HP
Tybalt: 15/16 HP
Xan: 14/14 HP
Atlas: 6/19 HP [Concussed]
Rock: 9/19 HP
Emily: 15/15 HP
Thomas: 4/16 HP [Critically Injured]
Maggs: 16/16 HP
Rav's Awesome Card Counter: +2

Quote from: Kane
...and whipped cream, a bottle of baileys, seven pairs of non-matching shoes, a combine harvester, a box of matches, and three indie rock bands drunk off their skull is technically acceptable on private property.

Scout Sergeant Mkoll

"Sanna? Yeah, I know that name." Oan replied "Last time we followed that there was a nice little trap waiting. They're more aware of our abilities this time, which won't help."

"Do we know how much time we have before they try this summoning? Some of us are not exactly in a position to fight right now." he added, with a nod to Thomas and Khalan.
Mkoll's Awesome Card Counter: +8

May the brave be remembered forever. Farewell our friends.

Quote from: Mabbz on June 03, 2011, 10:43:53 AM
Mkoll wins.

Quote from: LordDemon
Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to catch you.

[img]http

The Man They Call Jayne

"I believe we owe her a little something. Needless to say, as a humble traveller, I intend to deliver."

Kraytor had to admit, begrudgingly as it may be, Kjellson was skilled at his craft. He had succeeded and done so well, even when the skeins had died.

"Those of us who are able and whole should get their quickly, if they covered their tracks this well they will not intend for us to find them so soon, if at all, before they make their summoning. We may be able to gain the element of surprise. Get the drop on them so to speak."

The way Kraytor said drop sounded a little more literal that was usually implied by such a phrase.
Jaynes Awesome Card Counter: +5

Secondspheres Crash Card Counter +4



Mabbz

Kahlan paid no heed to Kjellson's discovery as she wandered over to a less crowded part of the room. She slumped to the floor, drew her legs up to her chest, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. It took some time before she worked up the resolve to look at her injury. Trembling, she forced herself to raise her hand in front of her face. She opened her eyes.

Tears that had nothing to do with physical pain streamed down her cheeks as she stared at the wound. She could still feel her finger. Slowly, she clenched her fist, ignoring the pain. Flexing her fingers, the sensation of a phantom limb gradually vanished from her mind, leaving a horrible emptiness. Kahlan was a healer, a surgeon. More than most she relied on her steady hands. Her mind had gone numb as she tried to accept the loss. Some part of her was still screaming at her, insisting there had been a mistake.

From somewhere within her a new feeling arose. Anger. At the bastard that did this to her. She would find him, and he would pay. She finally understood why her father had left her to be raised by others, and why she had come on this quest after her father's death. The need for vengeance could not be denied. Before, she had wanted ensure her father had his revenge. Now she truly had her own reason to be here.

Wiping the tears from her face, she got up to rejoin the others.

Narric

"My body is mostly weary, though my mind feels like a rock storm on a mountain side." Atlas spoke up. "If someone has a quick remedy for a thumping headache, I'd be more than willing to join in todays final hunt."