A Calling

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Silence yet again took over this deity who saw no reason to voice anything other than what he had just told 'Mother Darkness'. The woman that had stood beside him would not be addressed with anything other than the title she had given him for she was simply an ally to this deity at this point. The complimentary juxtaposition of an essence of Darkness with an entity that exuded a chaos that truly had no alignment seemed truly fitting. As Syn took it upon herself to call upon another entity, reconnoitering eyes surveyed the area and simply took in all that was truly discernable. Decais had not truly been noticed, but this deity was well aware that there were several more beings to come here as was very obvious with the sporadic appearances of what he assumed were the beings he had sensed quite a while ago. Chaos' appearance was noted and the appearance failed to fool this deity despite the lack of any true power signature. The fact alone that he convened here made him a being of respectable merit for now. Was tension building already?

If it was, it failed to touch this deity who calmly crossed arms against his chest and just looked around. What Sole had sensed about this deity was somewhat true as neutrality seemed to veil quite a bit about the chaotic man who stood near Syn but had not moved one bit from his position. The fact the woman was now interacting with others was practically ignored as it was not his job to monitor her. He would expect no less from her as their relationship extended far beyond the nuisances of such care. If Satire thought that she was not being watched, however, she was sadly mistaken. Though the specifics of what was going on were not deciphered, he could already assume that she was indulging herself away from this monument. This was enough of a reason to simply resist asking her to convene here again, no matter how much the meeting might benefit anyone here.

Sole's analytical eyes and Syn's reaction to his presence were noticed as well. If the man wished to draw on whatever energy he naturally exuded, the corruption that would be attempted would no doubt nag away at the being if he continued to feed upon it. The chaos this deity wielded was not something easily controlled. It consumed...destabilized and desired widespread domination at all times. He'd remain exactly where he was, calculating patiently until the arrival of Ried. Scorn was mildly set aside and Aphotic as well. Ever-shifting eyes became closed and he just began to meditate amidst this congregation of high-powered beings. There was nothing but pure relaxation in the middle of the brewing chaos. Lim'Dul's appearance had been noticed and the appearance of several pathways to other areas as well but it was all taken in stride. It was now more clear than ever that he did not care what the outcome of this entire thing ended up being.

Seconds were all that were taken to look straight at Sole before returning to his originally calm stance. If Syn wished to address him, he'd be within arm's reach and well within audible range. For now, however, the sounds of conversation and near-prophetic statements filled his ears in abundance. Neutrality seemed far too exquisite at this point, free of bias and liberated from the need to address anyone here at all. No matter how large the ego or how small their threshold of temper was, they would all be able to understand that he was neither an antagonist or hero. He was simply a being after his own benefit....and that freedom alone perhaps made him the most ambiguous of them all....
 
"Inquisitor Decais, I am Jason Yakuvna, architect and public servant. My associates and I built a great deal of this city, and have a vested interest in seeing it whole. I hope you will forgive my mistaking your restraint for hidden malice, We are all on edge recently." Saar'Tcheras mentally replied to the Inquisitor, and he wasn't really lying per say, his persona in the Ayenee capital city was an architect, and the former head of a corporation whose speciality was securing contracts rebuilding sections of the city that were destroyed in conflicts just like the one occuring at the moment. Even after his own personal attempt to take control of the city was thwarted, and his most powerful assets here destroyed, his legacy lived on.

"Perhaps we could speak personally? We are men of means and similar goals it seems, and could do well togather."

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Prince took in the sights from his Astral form at the Kellendil monument, nodding to Lim-Dul and Chaos as the arrived, even though they didn't seem to have even noticed his presence. Unsurprising. He answered now in audible tones, the need for "I Propose, Lord Archsole, Master Lim-Dul, Master Chaos, only that I be allowed to accompany you through the Lich's portal, and speak on behalf of my Master."
 
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Silence was a far-fetched dream echoing into the very reaches of non-existance, even here solace was unattainable to that which yearned for it the most. Long, drawn out years were spent idly sitting by watching the rise and fall of empires.. learning what the very essence was that caused a perfect existance to crumble into ruin. But here, now, the reverie of peace dwindled to nothing more than a whisper of past hopes and long-forgotten dreams. Chasms of sable peered onward to the ensuing chaos through a veil of shimmering silk. The death and destruction wrought upon this city ressurrected decayed feelings lingering in the pit of an empty belly. However, no matter the level of hunger that distinctly roared within that form, the smell that permeated in the milieu caused that stomach to sour. Full, rose-petal lips curled heavenward. Nostrils flared- the scent of that one drawn in, and her senses alight. The darkness was her confidant... it spoke of the terrors and atrocities committed within this small hovel of land.. and it whispered the names of Legends that had faded into myth.

The delicate arc of a spinal column nuzzled the grooves of a tree near this popular monument. She knew of the creature it represented, but she did little to offer respect or hatred to the being carved in stone. A voice slithered between upturned lips; venomous in nature, though still harboring the allure of yesteryear. "Even after all these years, Scorn, you still cease to disgust me." Such were spoken in contempt- the very pit of her hatred revolved around that creature that dared call himself a God. If his daughter brought him minor discomfort, then perhaps a woman of his past would cause more than just emotional pain. The Lady DarkTide clung to past titles- such were the glory in the Ages of Old... These new creatures that claim Lordship and Godhood over that which old tyrants ruled millenia ago, could never shadow the terrors that stalked the wilderness in her time.. and the titles they were bestowed.

The air lingering within this general area had been electrified... the feeling of the Warp was everywhere.. littering the landscape in all its glory. She could still feel remnants of the Warp coursing through her flesh- an age old magic lost when its gods perished and faded into memory. The tingling feeling along her spine drew memories she had forgotten- the day she betrayed The Hidden Lord with his most loyal follower, Vaticus DarGlore. Vaticus wanted his freedom to carve his legacy under his own brand, and Novelly followed. However, unlike the unfaithful, she and Vaticus remained Gargauth's loyals far longer than any... and their gift of the Warp had not been taken in retaliation. Vaticus' symbol still lingered 'pon her left shoulder, burned into her flesh as a reminder that she, like the years proceeding, belonged to someone else. An upside-down V scathed delicate flesh of her shoulder, right above and off to the side of her left breast. Another note-worthy feature was the dim flicker of what appeared to be tear-drops at the corner of her right eye. They faded when the light flickered 'pon her countenance. Those were the only imperfections that succulent physique had to offer.

The cling of sable fabric wisked in the breeze, enhanced by a slight movement to the right. Her attention lingered on all those present- most she had remembered from her years within Tenaria- others were new faces. She didn't bother to hide her presence within the eerie comfort of shadows, or using crafting magics to conceal her being. These tyrants of old would be aware of her presence long before she decided to hide it away, she knew this already. She allied herself with none here, but she could feel the rippling presence of The Hidden Lord... even if he wasn't lingering in the after math of an unplanned attack. The cracking of the Warp never lied... and never did it vibrate so loudly without its master present.. somewhere.

"It seems my past has come back to haunt me... the Lords that dominated Tenaria during its darkest times now congregate.. for what purpose and design? Once rivals all gather at the base of this statue..." She whispered so softly, but didn't bother to keep it within her mind. Someone, somewhere would be listening to her thoughts.. as well as what fell from her lips.

However, the words following a derisive snort were less than subtle. "Do you ever rid yourself of the vermin that spawn around you? Your stench is unbearable and and their musk is stomach churning, filthy beast." Her eyes only twisted in the general direction Scorn had been coming from.
 
The harsh, unforgiving weather outside seemed to rock the tinty candle-lit cabin; causing nervous children to huddle closer together, gazing up curiously at an eldery man seated in a rocking chair. The old man seemed at a loss for words, at the moment - still his story maintained the undivided attention of the youngsters. He often told scary stories on such nights, but none as terrifying as this tale of a beast that their grandfather claimed once stalked this very forest. Reaching towards a small table at the rocking chair's side; he placed a wrinkled hand upon a charred, ancient looking chest of some sort. Eventually, he opened the chest... withdrawing the sheet of black silk that encased the treasure within. Clenching the object, he lifted it with a sense of fear, rather than concern for its age. The object, apparently, was a large portion of a skull. It appeared human, for the most part - the children reacting with a chorus of gasps as the aged story teller held the cruel relict up. Strangely, the skull seemed to house a set of fangs which seemed to be forged of steel; highly polished and dangerously sharp. Steel fangs.. like the creature in the story.



There was only blackness; notions such as 'time' had no meaning. Long since succumbing to the powers that once surged through his blackened heart; he'd paid dearly for his sins against man - swallowed into a watery grave with the rest of his wicked oblivion. It was of no matter to him, for without the watchful eye of Gargauth, he was a beast uncaged; carving an ungoverned swath of destruction across the lands while succumbing to the downward spiral of madness that came hand-in-hand with the powers he once possessed, or possessed him, some might argue. It'd all begun with that blasted priestess that'd managed to seduce him into betraying his master - feeding his hungry imagination horrible lies of deceit and favortism cast to others over he. His betrayal had been forgiven, and redeemed just the same, having sworn himself to the task of obliterating the fabled Avalon, and drinking from the blood of Alysera herself. Such thoughts lead to a storm of hatred thrashing through his warped mind; burning stronger as the decades passed. He knew he would be summoned eventually. He heard the drums of war pounding in the distance. He could taste the power that damned him - oh, how he lusted for it.

Somewhere, in a darkened corner of a dirty Tavern; his piercing stare could be felt tearing asunder the otherwise peaceful state of mind of some random drunk. Soon, he would be powerful enough to step forth from the darkness that mothered him, and finish his task of bringing the realm of Ayenee to its knees; blanketing it beneath the wicked banner of the Hidden Lord. Fueled by his hatred, he felt stronger as each day passed, knowing the time would soon be at hand. Others would rise with him; the great day of his wrath would soon be at hand.
 
Pain, torture.. screams wrought havoc 'pon an already tormented mind. They reverberated, eating and clawing through the vastness of her thoughts.. These shrieks only echoed the pain of an entire city; they combed through the milieu until such a degree that a worn and weary heart could no longer stand aside and listen to the waning cries. Droplets of saline traversed a path along rose-hued cheeks and pooled at the base of a delicate chin before falling to the earth. Flowers blossomed where those tears fell- the only mark of beauty within a city bathing in destruction. The fires of anguish reflected within shimmering pools that mocked the brilliance of a morning sun. Crumbled buildings, bodies strewn about in disorder. Agony swam through the strings of existance and clawed at her flesh. She felt the pain these people endured as if it was her own. And it caused... sadness. Sadness in divinity- such an idea seemed preposterous. Gods didn't feel as mortal men and women did... They were selfish and cold.

The faint rhythm of a spastic heart-beat caused her attention to drift to a pile of burning rubble. Off to the right lay a body, half consumed by brick and mortar, but still visible enough to the naked eye. Sandled feet drifted, bringing this creature closer to the one that lived... Lived through all this. Her hood remained drawn, but the burning irises hiding in shadows cast couldn't be contained. They, along with fear, brought comfort to the fallen man, who upon further inspection, seemed to be just a resident. But his eyes told the story- the only thing he was doing was trying to protect his family. Dirt-ridden and bloodied fingers rose up to brush away the white hood drawn along delicate features, but his strength failed him.. managing only to kiss the air, just short of the tip of her nose.

"Shh.." Soft fingertips traced the brow of this man, giving fleshy comfort as was needed. "Speak not, for I already know of your plight." The words of a care giver leaked forward, laced with warm honey and succulent tones. "My..My lady..You.." The man struggled, coughing each word with spittle and trace amounts of blood. "Shh..ease yourself, for I am here. Pain is now something best forgotten." Both hands were placed 'pon this mans' cheeks, and she leaned forward, pressing lips to the creases along his brow. Digits traced a symbol 'pon his forehead, and when the last of this invisible insignia was complete.. the man heavily sighed. Light flooded every pore offering the solace only the Lady of Light could give.

Little did they both know that a creature loomed in the dark. Driven by bloodlust, it's only thoughts were to reap the souls of those foolish enough to remain. Without thought, without order, it charged forward. With claws extended and fangs bared, its drool littered the ground with every staggering step. Grunting and growling it dove arms first toward this mysterious woman's spine, fully intended on tearing that fleshy form asunder. However, the master of this creature didn't school his minions on the one that wore the crown of Deceit's reign, but gave life to the slain. Scorn would hear the shrill cry west of his current location. The aura that radiated from this creature was unbearable to those will ill-intent. It was as though concentrated rays of the sun beat down upon their souls, igniting it in holy flame. The creature howled.. screaming for the aid of its comrades while trapped in mid-flight. Flames erupted from its charred flesh, white tongues burned this minion through and through. Finally- the creature burst into shimmers of ash, and fell upon minions that were close, watching the horror that was bestowed upon one of their own.

Confusion, fear... it all wove upon their horrific countenances. They witnessed the utter destruction of a comrade- but what had happened? No arrow, no sword.. not even magic was plainly evident. They held their ground, though few backed up, and stepped forward repeatedly. They knew not what to do.

She finally stood, drawing back the hood that concealed her features. Most here wouldn't recognize the face, but those that crossed paths with the infamous woman of legend.. would feel her aura. Its potency grew and grew.. with every moment spent looking upon the destruction these creatures wrought to innocent people.. the thickness and poison of her being fanned outward.. licking at every unclean host. The wrath of The UnMother, the Lady of Light.. was yet to be seen in the world of men.

...The mythical bride of The Hidden Lord had returned with a vengeance.
 
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Chin lifted heavenward, Aphotic's shoulder released, her words became nothing in the scrapings of that chaos inflamed mind. Eyes, steel bullets penetrating the air to find Novelly and none other.

His screams diluted the air as the heavens met his call, watching the sifting clouds, the shifting patterns of celestial wrath, fingers curled, impressing those talonic nails into the very palms of flesh, loosing blood apon the land seconds before The Kellindil Monument itself exploded raining ash and rock 'pon the heads of those gathered at it's base.

"Dying times are here.." It wasn't a spoken symphony, it was the tanar'ric dialogue, pictures in the minds of those he chose to communicate with, The ending note to a shallow moment, arms lowered, palms extended, almost slow motion as dust lifted from the earthen destruction just before every last mane, every last minion that claimed fealty to The DarkTide became nothing more than oozing black, ground bones, a river of blood consuming his feet, legs and waist. All that remained were Deceit and Despise, his two faithful sinking, strugglingly into the ground from whence they came.

Novelly felt his viperion breath, vaporous ash, sulphuric aroma radiating 'pon her flesh, from her physique. She felt it's sting twist her hair, dialogue against her throat and singe apon her spine. The DarkTide surrounded her, entombing her presence with in his caustic gaze, a gaze that became so much more than a cold stare, as fingers existed driving their knuckles into her lower back, fingers attached to an arm which sequentially wrapped about her waist, manifesting into a torso and head, inches away from her, eye to eye, old aquaintances. Thin puckered lips drifted apart, kissing not the flesh of this feminine fatale but the air before her whence she felt the constriction of that arm tighten, forcing her body, her chest into his own. "Thank you..." That voice, that tone laced with poison, staring into the symbol of Vaticus, that upside down V. "For doing what only a woman can.." And then his tone darkened, deepened. "But you did not...do it for me.." Free hand rising, the back of it's fingers closing in, would they strike this ladies cheek?

Yet across the city, across the layers, the streets, the alleys of devastation he observed, he approached The UnMother, a presence, a power, a deity lost to him so many years ago, purposefully Scorn's vest was removed, approaching The Lady of Light with scars bared open. A scar she was certain to remember, the remants of a wound she healed so many years ago, a scar attached to the body of Scorn DarkTide.

And still he remained, bathed in the blood of his faithful, chest rising, lowering, exploding, imploding, veins pulsating, rolling beneath tightening, loosening flesh. Hair sifting, wripping, floating about his face, eyes rolling, falling inwards, returning to their sockets. Fingers twisting, curling, elongating, shortening. His body a malfunction of abnormalities, yet still he approached, even as his weapons, runic edged scimitars began to ooze their way out of either of his shoulders. He approached.

(OOC, Trisha gave me permission to auto her character with what I did in a Yahoo conversation.)
 
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Architect? The creature must think him a fool and, a blind fool at that. But none-the-less, the situation remained unchanged. A gathering was taking place, a gathering with powers the like of which had not been seen in centuries, if not longer. Decais knew little of the intricate and shifting history of this world, but he did know the history of the Imperium in great depth, and this gathering would earn a place in the annals of the Liber Demonica. Provided, of course, he survived to report this.

He had felt the summoning, as, seemingly, had these others. Every fibre of his being railed against what was being called upon. He could feel stirrings in the Warp, and knew that this was what his Order existed for. The summoning of Daemons, in whatever form, and however they called themselves, must be stopped. And who else was there to stop this?

<Very well Architect Yakuvna. We shall meet. But I warn you, tense as we all may be, do not trifle with me. I am sure neither of us would enjoy battling over petty issues, when such calamity awaits all around us>

With that, the aged Inquisitor rose from his knee, making the sign of the Aquila over his chest, marking the head, claws, and outstretched wingtips. Actuators whined softly in the greaves of his ancient armour as he stood, opening pale blue, tired eyes. Tired, but with a barely hidden determination in them. His claret robes hung about him, concealing most of his armoured form, skimming the tops of his armoured boot, and parting to reveal the armour encasing his hands and arms, all of it golden in hue, inscribed with ancient litanies of faith and warding. The shoulders and back of his robes bulged over the pauldrons and power-pack. No longer was he the swaddled old man, standing less than two metres tall. Now he stood, armoured and resplendant, the symbol of his office rising above his head, and the peak of his hood now two and a half metres from the floor.

Extending his right hand, his adjutant placed his Force-weapon, an ancient sword, into his armoured palm, and held aside folds of crimson robe as the Inquisitor attached the blades scabbard to the waist of his armour. As soon as he had risen from his slumber moments after the summoning call had been sent, he had set about rousing the Machine Spirit of his ancient Power Armour, and he had resided in it since, it's intricate aegis network supplementing his already formidable powers. He was an Inquisitor risen in wrath.

Moments later, the door to the building in which this aged persona resided, opened. A handful of the Inquisitors warriors stood inside, weapons trained on the opening, physiques concealed beneath black carapace armour. Decais eased the wards protecting the area around the door as he strode down the marble staircase of the former hotel he had made his home, and came to a halt at their foot.

"Come, Architect Yakuvna, let us see if these assumptions you make are correct. Are we indeed men of similar goals?" He spoke audiably this time, his voice deep, emanating a confidence difficult to feign.

With a start, the Inquisitor looked over the head of his guest "He is here. The creature that began this summoning... at the monument..."

A blaze of light lit the sky to the west, and burned for a moment through the darkness Decais felt surrounding the city. It was as though for a moment, a blessed moment, hope had shone upon this damned world. A slow smile began to move his lips "Perhaps, Architect, you are not the only 'man' to believe you share my goals"

Locating the source of that blast of light was easy enough in a city currently shrouded in malignant darkness. A part of the Inquisitors mind sought it out, enquiringly... <Who, or indeed, what are you>
 
The Dark Master had interrupted her amusements and Treiya was none to happy with this current development. Being a minion was such a trial at times. Her original mission was only partially completed and it was Sole's own fault his orders weren't completely followed. She had only located one of the many Pendragons, however, it would have to do until a later date. Now, she must find the others Sole sought, gather his Royal Guard and bring them to the Capital city along with her current companion in travel or suffer the consequences.


She ignored her surroundings and her companion as she stood before the tavern that awaited her, noticing the minor changes that had been made to the exterior of the tavern. The door had been replaced upon its hinges, and the sign that had hung precariously over the door during her first crossing had been fixed, suspended by two thick chains from it's place of honor above the door. Treiya mumbled the name to herself before speaking to her companion for the first time, "This is the Lost Souls Tavern. Sole owns this place. In reality, it's nothing more than a portal. Once you learn the secret, you may never utter it to another soul or you will suffer the consequences." She didn't wait for a response. She turned abruptly from Sojiana and with her right hand, shoved open the door and entered.


She paused just inside the door, the thumping of her boots against the wooden floor immediately ceasing. She stood there for a moment, once again noting changes, this time to the interior. The dust that had caked the entire place had been removed, buffed away by the tender behind the bar. Treiya nodded her head to him in acknowledgement, and he returned her greeting. He was nothing more than a Royal Guard turned minion at Sole's whim. It seemed all who served Sole were commanded by his whims. As her perusal of the place continued, she noted that a decent stock of liquor had replaced the empty and broken bottles that had lined the shelves behind the bar. Tables and chairs had be repaired and buffed back to their former glory and no rats scurried to and fro. It may not be completely returned to it's previous state of cleanliness, but it was a start.

Treiya glanced around, noting the other occupants of the tavern. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as they touched upon each person, making a mental note of appearance, race and connection to Sole. Five Royal Guards, not including the tender, dressed as common men. Four others, who were strangers to the Tavern and to Sole. Two were elves, obviously related in some way, traveling together to who knew where. The other two sat at different tables, nursing drinks and ignoring one another. One was a human, his lack of power obvious. The fourth, however, made Treiya nervous. And, if the glances he received from the guards was any indication, his presence within the tavern made them nervous as well. His features were not discernable behind the heavy cowl he wore. He was dressed as a priest, but his face was hidden deep within the folds of the hood that was attached to the brown robe. Where a normal priest would loop the silver or gold cord that was attached to the heavy cross of his beliefs was a simple rope, gold and braided together to leave two golden tassels dangling towards the floor. Something about him was not right. Why would a priest be in what was, for all intents and purposes, a bar? In addition, if he was merely an apprentice, as he attempted to appear, then where was the mark of his order that should be displayed somewhere upon his person? Yes, something was very wrong with this "priest."


Watching the "priest" from the corner of her eye, she made her way to the bar, needing to speak with the Royal Guard on duty. As she approached, he smirked at her, and she cocked an eyebrow at his impudence. She may not be much more than Sole's personal servant, but she still ranked higher in the scheme of things than this mere guard. Her expression sober, she tilted her head slightly in the direction of the priest, indicating that the guards should keep an eye on him, and when the guard nodded his acceptance of these orders, she changed her direction, heading instead for the western wall of the tavern.

When she reached the door that was located within that wall, she pushed it open, stepping through, and stood in the center of the office. She looked around, noting that here, too, changes had been made. A desk had been moved in to replace the old one that had been rotting from rains that poured through the hole in the roof and the bookshelves were once again clogged with account books and receipts for the operation of the tavern. The floors had been polished to a high shine and even some of the artwork within had been replaced. With a brief nod, she turned to look at the fireplace. When her companion caught up, together they would return to Martesfon.
 
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-Sojiana follows Treiya into the tavern, her heart filled with trepidation. Would Sole even allow her to live once he knew that she knows his secret? She supposes she'll have to cross that bridge when she arrives at it. With a slight nod in Treiya's general direction, the woman didn't pause to give her a chance for response, she looks around.

There seems to be some underlying tension that she doesn't understand. Treiya is watching a priest in the corner, and Soji doesn't see anything to distinguish him from anyone else in the tavern. She had paused beside Treiya and now took in her own evaluation of the tavern's occupants. If she were Treiya, she'd be more concerned with the mean looking character behind the bar, not a harmless priest. But, then, she had never understood creatures who reveled in darkness when light was so much more amiable to one's peace of mind and she probably never would. The path of darkness was perhaps easier to follow than the path of light.

With a soft sigh, she ponders the upcoming meeting with Sole. Are they going to meet him in his home world? Treiya hadn't bothered to share the details with her. Treiya had simply informed her in the previous tavern that she should reject Sole's offer of marriage in person and she had agreed. And so now, here they were, flitting from one tavern to another, Soji following a person who probably wouldn't care if someone killed her. With a shake of her head, she follows Treiya as she moves toward the bar, and then quickly adjusts herself as Treiya veers away, heading in a different direction. Apparently, there was some invisible string that was guiding Treiya.

As they enter the office, she pauses once more beside Treiya, watching the other woman with questioning eyes and she apparently stares at the fireplace. Soji turns to regard the fireplace, looking for anything that would mark it as more than it was. All she sees is a blackened...well...fireplace. Was there some secret tunnel behind it or something special that was beyond her vision?-
 
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His meeting with old friends would have to wait.

As the poor wretch dies before him, the lich's hopes and dreams come to life.

At last!

At the cost of this wretch's life, a portal had been opened...but to where? The lich assumed it went straight to the Hidden Lord himself, yet one could never be too sure. For all intents and purposes, it could lead to his instant destruction.

But no one ever got ahead without taking chances...

And without further word to his allies of old, the lich Lim-Dul strode into the portal yawning before him and to places unknown.

Whether or not others followed...well, that was up to them.
 
Treiya may have appeared distracted, but such was not the case. After a few more moments of deliberation, a small mishappen creature scurried forth from the ashes of the fireplace. Standing at two feet tall with short black fur that shot out from its body in random directions, it skidded to a halt before Treiya. It walked on two legs, like most humans, although in the place of hands it had two, rabbit like paws, it's short arms extended before it. The creature's legs ended in another set of paws, these longer with sharp little nails used for ripping into the soft bellies of it's prey. It appeared to yawn, although no sound came from it's throat and gleaming white teeth were put on display, obviously for Soji's benefit as Treiya narrowed her eyes at the little creature and it skittered back toward the fireplace, hissing in Soji's direction and then wimpering at Treiya. It had no visible ears and it's face was rather grotesque looking, one eye firmly in the socket the other dangling as if it had been in a recent fight.

Treiya bent her legs, one knee colliding with the hard floor the other in the air, a prop for her right elbow as she lifted her hand to crook one finger in the creature's direction. As the little thing came before her warily, she leaned her upper body slightly forward, her chest coming to rest against the upper arm cocked on her elbow, the other arm down, fingers extended toward the floor, to hold her balance. "Inform the Royal Guard that their Dark Master has commanded their presence in Ayenee Capital City. They will form ranks and march to the boundry of the city where I will meet them. We will then proceed to Sole."

As the little creature turned and scurried to do her bidding, disappearing once more into the fireplace, Treiya again rose to her feet, turning to regard Soji solemly, "I suppose you're one of those who will require a mount." It wasn't a question, more a scornful statement that was meant to relay her disgust for such creatures. "Well, come on then." With that she turned, once more ignoring Soji, and walked through the door back into the main tavern. She spotted the priest again, this time the interest of the Royal Guards unmistakeable, and continued on her way, heading out the front door. If he made trouble, the guards would take care of him. She had more important things to worry about.

Walking around to the side of the Tavern, she headed for a small building that was, though seldom used, for housing the horses whatever random travelers may arrive with. Walking to the front of the building, she shoved open the massive door and peered within. The pickings were slim, but Soji would just have to make do. She leaned against the door brace, crossed one leg over the other, and waited.
 
-Soji regards the little creature as it scurries forward. Obviously the thing belongs to Treiya, although how someone could make such an ugly animal or whatever it was a pet was beyond Soji's comprehension. When the thing hisses at her, she steps back away from it, just so that it doesn't bite her, and watches with interest as Treiya speaks to it.

She really is getting tired of Treiya ignoring her and making pronouncements. Regardless, she trudges along behind the other woman, a frown marring the perfection of her face. When they walk through the main room of the tavern, she too looks at the priest and wonders if perhaps they just dislike him because he is a holy man. There was nothing Holy about this place.

Shrugging the thought aside, she proceeds out the door and into the "stables." She glances to Treiya and then slowly makes her way down through the stalls, looking over each of the horses within individually. Only one seems worthy of the trip, the rest might die on the way there. With a nod toward the white horse in the stall, she indicates to Treiya that this is the one that she'll take and then proceeds into the stall to saddle the animal. No doubt Treiya intends to leave her behind again, so she might as well get to work and be prepared this time.-
 
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Synful Darkness

Sighing she stopped for a moment and allowed Plague to take his place near her. A mere glance was cast in the direction of Chaos as he made himself known in no fancy fashion. She was almost surprised in the fact that he had taken an elder man as his host, but nothing in the form of shock took over her features. Glancing around Syn pondered a moment and then glanced towards Plague again, a sheer look of annoyance crossing her face. Of course it was not for him, but simply for this entire ordeal.

Here, in this small area there were beings that had not reared their faces upon Ayenee soil in decades, and yet they were left to gather for nothing. Whispers of the Hidden Lord, and yet Syn was unimpressed. What would he do that those here couldn’t? A battle would perhaps be fought for a ruler to take power, nothing new in this city that was slowly crumbling to the ground. Syn really wanted no part in it. She would not be made Queen, she would not assist in any battles that did not come her way, and thus, what was the real point of it all?

Snickering to herself she again nodded to Sole, this time however in a farewell attempt. Again she allowed her gaze to settle on Chaos, turning to fully face him. “Nice to have seen you again Chaos.†And with that she turned and paced towards Colvin, knowing Plague would not stray far, if not out of sheer loyalty then perhaps out of curiosity. She was the closest thing to trust he had. “Colvin, I have come to the conclusion that there is no place for me here, so I will be on my way. You know where to find me if needed, as do the many others here if desired.†Offering a slight bow at her waist she then smiled a light smile at him, the first signs of emotion from her in some time. Then with that she turned again and began her hike towards the gates of the city, Synful Darkness, the Arch Child of the Mother would no longer wait around like a child. Tossing a stare at Plague she gave him the option to follow or not, that rested in him alone. Bare feet padded in silence against the cool ground as she pulled her cloak tighter against her body and set her sights for the gates off in the distance.

Aphotic Sluice

Clearly Aphotic was beyond confused at this point. She had never seen any of these people save for Scorn and she was already curled against him pacing slowly towards the monument ahead. What really where they all doing here? She hadn’t the slightest idea. The talking of a Hidden Lord, the babbling of an old fat man, that’s all that Aphotic took it as. Unlike most she cared little for the goings on of the city and was here out of sheer curiosity. Unlike most, she wanted to mere see what was going to happen and take no real part in it. Perhaps it was for the better considering if her side lost, then that meant she lost, and Aphotic was not really a good sport when it came to losing.

Light blue orbs inspecting the gathering crowd still, the arrival of an elderly man and a rather strapping Lord that seemed to have relations with him. Clearing her throat for a moment she again cast her gaze over Colvin and couldn’t help but smirk. Her attention however turned back to Scorn, he was making little sense to her but perhaps it needed to be that way. They were supposed to discuss things, and yet little had been said. She waited for him now, he would explain himself if he desired or just leave her to do his own bidding. She cared little either way, knowing he would come back when all was said and done.
 
Scintillating pools observed the growing coagulation of an all too familiar aura. The very presence caused the pit of her stomach to churn, souring the very taste of her mouth. There was no feeling that washed over her form with Scorn’s cold, unforgiving stare, she simply waited for the moment when he actually manifested as flesh and blood before her. But, such a request was granted all too soon. With pressure added to her lower spine her column arced, pulling her chest further from him, yet all seemed to be in vain. Still, despite her miniscule struggle, their flesh unwillingly touched.

A low, guttural growl slowly made its way into the base of her throat, though it morphed into a rumble of content. He was far too close to keep her comfort, and far too demanding in his body language to put her at ease…but she played the moment, never the less. “Hello, pet.†Humor caused the corners of those lips to rise- no matter what company he kept, he always managed to wander back into her company.

The tone of her voice was dangerously low; venom dripping from the breaks in every word, yet even still, honey coated such words- a reminder of really how precarious one false move could make. “Do you not remember the last time you touched my flesh without permission. ..†she leaned forward, making sure the whisper that escaped only touched his ear, “..I gave you back what I stole from you, because you were no fun a trembling mass of mortal emotion.†A hiss escaped when she pulled herself away- still close to him, but not as such as when she leaned into him.

And then he spoke regarding the insignia willingly scarred into her flesh. “Everything I do, I do for myself, because no matter how many time you creatures promise loyalty and devotion, I always find myself alone when I need them the most. But it was him, not you, that spared me the fury of The Hidden Lord when I followed him out of his services. And there I pledged fealty to the only man that ever showed me that kind of kindness.†Kindness was perhaps pulling the strings too far with Vaticus- but there was no other word that she could use that would give what he had done justice.

It was quite obvious what the term ‘creatures’ referred to; men. They showed loyalty to one another but disregarded that which they fought each other for. In history, women have always been the downfall of men; others attacked them to summon the ire of their adversary…and took them as slaves or harlots to continue the humiliation.

“There is only one that I would do something for, and even it seems she has abandoned me… To your eyes, that is.†Mynxsira, or whatever alias she decided to fashion, would always be Sirvyx’s favorite pet. Even the hosts of these demons were the best of friends and it too infected the creatures within. She knew, deep down in that cold, black heart, that if she was truly in need then the creature she so undoubtedly adored would be there to aid her. No one has shown better loyalty.

Those eyes twisted toward the raised appendage that seemed intent on striking her cheek. How many times had they played this game? Violence in any form only roused the fiend lurking beneath the pretty integument. Her arm rose, snapping in an upward motion to capture the wrist of her assailant.

However, her attention momentarily turned elsewhere- she felt the pulse, the anger and rage that violated the city streets. The feeling caused the small hairs all along her form to rise.
 
The concealing hood had been drawn from porcelain flesh- allowing those which looked on to view the face of this woman. The air swam as torrents of an angry river, violently whipping silken ringlets against tanned skin. Those eyes, whose beauty and brilliance was only matched by the intensity of the sun, stared off into the distance. From the corners of those oculars, the figure of a man with a leisured gait came forth. She knew who it was long before his visage made it in her sights. He strode so confidently into her presence and the anger swelled with every step he took in approach.

Her voice lacked the comfort it did when offering healing to the sick and injured- it lacked everything save for the raw fury beginning to manifest at her fingertips. Flickers of light accompanied by tongues of electricity danced from digit to digit on either hand, pooling into her palms. Those who knew what it felt like would recognize the presence of the Warp, would feel the energy being drawn from the atmosphere and fueled by vehemence. Warp lightning laced with light entwined each digit, growing brighter with every moment he strayed.

“You dare approach me with such confidence, even after all you’ve wrought? Walking forward, bare-chested as though I am indebted to you, for an atrocity you committed.†Those eyes narrowed, and very little did her head turn to regard him with a blank stare. Due to his vicinity, the blood of his minions would begin to boil. Bubbles rose from smeared ichors- even if there were no deep puddles ‘pon his form, the blood would still begin to dissolve. He may not feel the effects of her aura immediately, but the lesser creatures he surrounded himself with.. Their blood wasn’t safe. He too would fall to it, the internal burning…the searing intensity of divinity.

“You dare to approach me walking upright when you should be down on hand and knee, crawling forward.†There was a flicker beneath her robe- a shimmer of metal that reflected the brilliance surrounding her hands. The intricacy of the blade was beautiful- the only thing that stood out among everything was the hilt… It was wrapped in flesh. “What is it that you want, Tanar’Ri? My patience draws thin, and grows thinner with the poison your being exudes. The cries of these people summoned me from Avalon, but only then should I have known it was you that caused their suffering. On your knees, DarkTide, ‘lest you wish to join your minions in eternal purgatory.â€

Her voice echoed within empty streets, and it was at that moment she felt the reverberations… a thought traveling across a short distance… seeking her out, specifically. Who was she? Or rather, what was she? Inside she chuckled, but the stoned countenance that gave little emotion continued. He’d receive a message- it wasn’t one complete sentence, however. The words echoed themselves , as though it were spoken several times aftr. “I am the Lady of Light..â€
 
"And I am the darkness that can not be penetrated." He pointed, finger rousing rock and rubble, the heads of the dearly departed lifting to his wake, nodding their recognition. "I am the dead who can not wake." A crook of his finger cracked the skull of every deceased's head against strewn debris. "I am the puppeteer they can not escape." And with forming fists the departed began to rise, zomic maintenance, corpses approaching The Lady of Light. "I am every man, woman and child.." And rather than bow himself, the departed did on his behalf, dropping to one knee before her graciousness. "And they bow for me, unto you."

Confidence in her presence, he knew the limitations his chaotic mind spurned, he knew the ramifications this ladies very presence could and would have on not only his physique but his very existence.

And yet lingering, in the deapths of his gullet, in the forbidden aftermath of his human existence he clawed, he chewed, he fought for his existence, his freedom, his right to choose, those far away eyes, that longing gaze found the countenance of The UnMother and with out words or motions he begged her, forgiveness and freedom, he begged her with fingers circling that scar, a reminder of the forgiveness, of the love of Sune, The UnMother.

"You can not damn a man for what he has become when he hasn't the freedom to become what he wants. You can not exile a soul because he was cast into The Abyss instead of the Elysium Fields, you can not dismiss him as evil for becoming me, no choice, no freedom, knowing nothing but the chaos strewn of my Abyssal birth...can you?"

Paused, moments breaking into seconds of silence, even as the bodies of his mechanized corpses fell to their lifeless heaps at the feet of The UnMother.. "I seek your guidance.." The Virtue of The DarkTide, lost so many centuries ago.

Novelly remained, wrapped in his umbral embrace, her small lithe form physically incapable of breaking his grip, one arm pressuring her back into forcing her stomach into his whilst he beant forward, seemingly forcing Miss Skyefyre into a backwards arch. "I've learned from my mistakes, I know what you can do, but...you didn't come here to talk about the past, or try and return me to your feet now did you?"

And with her hand securing his he allowed his palm to rise heaveneward before snaking his fingers about her own and slowly drifting it down towards the softness of her cheek. "And you didn't come here to make amends with me, so...why are you here?" Those shallow steel grey eyes bore into the deapths of her own, gauging her reaction. He expected either laughter or repulse.. Rage was not the nature of this feline before him. Every word spoken, every action taking ignoring the utter repulse this woman showed.

"Never before!"The chaos of The DarkTide spoke, words recited as one but repeated time over time. Shoulders became barren holes where the twin scimitars were pulled from his flesh, from their eternal resting place. Booted feet became talonesque toes which wripped forth from the ends of their leather encasement. Shoulders, broad tendons of wripped flesh expanded into torn leather attachments, wings which pummeled the stench of death away from him. "Has a gathering of supremacy formed such as this!"

" And never again will the cosmos feel relief from the stranglehold of The DarkTide."Those scimitars crossed before his chest, allowing The DarkTide to stare down his foe, his ally, his neighbors one by one, the threshold crossed, walking on air, scaling the wrip in earthen crust. "It was me who called you here, my pawns attracted you, my games pulled you, and my power coaxed you."

Feet touched the land, standing before the gathering of villains, the gathering of powers, deities and gods alike. Gauging their disposition, reading the language their bodies portrayed, seeing their actions seconds before they would occur, the environment spoke to him. "And now we are here.... Not for The Hidden Lord, his broken horn shall remain as such, a broken religion. My question to you is.. Do you want to die here today, or do you want to bend knee to something far greater than you could ever be?"
 
Aldrag awoke with a start. Something had invaded his dreams, a voice, calling him. It was a command to go. No, a command to return? "Where am I supposed to go? I have no idea who you are." His eyes slowly searched his bed chamber for the source of the mysterious voice, but he could find none. "What sorcery is this?" he said aloud, though still talking to no one.

He rose from his bed, taking up his sword and placing the sheath across his back, as well as sliding on the gauntlet that covered his entire right arm. He slipped out of his chambers and into the darkened corridor. He moved quietly as he slipped on his black cloak and pulled up the cowl. The night was damp and cold. He went up the spiraling steps, emerging onto one of the high walls of the castle. He saw...a mirror?

"How odd...I don't remember this being here." He approached the new item. As he got closer, his image began to waver and then, the mirror went black. "This cannot be reality," he came to the mirror and instinctively reached out a hand to touch it. His hand wavered, then disappeared into the abyss. He pulled back quickly.

After a moment or two of silence. "Let us see where this takes me," as he had discovered it was some form of portal. The voice he had heard had drawn him here for some reason, and he intended to find out what. He stood before it now and placed his foot inside, then moved completely into the portal. He felt chilled to the bone, like there was no warmth anywhere. He then felt a pull and was jerked forward into the abyss.

After a split second, he was dropped into the alley of the city. He looked around, quite unnerved and slightly afraid. The city seemed dark and foreboding. He called out, though to whom he did not know "Where am I? Why have I been brought here and who is responsible." his voice quavered some as he stood, brushing himself off. He made sure the cloak was secured, as well as the guantlet and sword. He turned in all directions, though saw no one. He decided to head toward what he thought to be the center of the city.
 
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The silence surrounding the tavern was interrupted by the clanking of armor and swords. Horses nickered and stomped their hooves, pawing at the ground with impatience. Sole's dark army had arisen, the Royal Guard was prepared. Treiya glanced outside the doors as a small, rotound man, red in the face, came running towards her, his balding head displaying a faint sheen of sweat that he continuously mopped at with a square of white linen. "Treiya!" Frantically he waved his hand in the air as if afraid that she would turn away from him.

Treiya didn't move from her resting place against the barn. She merely watched his approach, something akin to disgust lighting her eyes and twisting her lip. He stopped before her, hunched over, hands on his upper thighs as he wheezed heavily, trying to regain his breath. Treiya merely watched him, not moving, awaiting his report. "Perhaps if you weren't so fat old man you'd be more able to give your report?" It was a scornful question that brought the small man to his full height at 4'11" and caused his belly to poke out even more, "The Royal Guard is assembled, as ordered by Sole. We have recruited 500 calvary, 5,000 Infantry, 500 Archers, and 50 Catapults. When do we march?"


Treiya turned from the man to look at Soji. "That, Das, depends on our good friend there." She pushed away from the door, walking over towards Soji. She nodded briefly, then pointed outside, "As an act of goodwill, to show no hard feelings and perhaps to placate Sole for your rejection of him, perhaps you would be so kind as to open a portal for us? We must march to the edge of the capital city." Treiya would draw on Soji's powers, use hers and exhaust her so as not to use her own and exhaust herself in the process of moving such a massive army.

(OOC: Just so everyone knows...this whole moving the army thing is annoying...)
 
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Slowly making his way toward what he thought was the center, he passed shadowed figures. None of this made sense and nothing seemed familiar. He saw nothing that looked invite in anyway. That is, until he saw the tavern. He noticed, however, that he was no longer within the city. "Thank you. A tavern. Perhaps now I can find out the reason for my being here. Or better yet, find out where here is." He looked up at the sign on the tavern. "The Tavern of Lost Souls. Well, isn't that quaint?" He came upon the building and saw a woman and a man just beyond the tavern.

He approached quietly and cautiously, not wanting to stir up trouble or receive any. He said quietly "Pardon my intrusion, but I am afraid that I have been called and brought here, a bit against my own will, I might add. I was wondering, could you tell me exactly where I am and what is going on here?" He took a step away, keeping his features cloaked so if he had to run, they would not know him by his features and thus making an escape easier.
 
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Saar'Tcheras, or Jason Yakuvna as he's calling himself, steps forward to meet Inquisitor Decais, flanked by Bishop and King on his right and left respectively, puny in comparison to the assembled might of the Inquisitor and his men. Suits and ties, bureaucrats without personal strength, but mightier than any army, for where did armies get their orders? Who told even the mightiest warriors who to fight against?

But appearances were deceiving, and Decais had already guessed at what lay hidden beneath the powerless mask Saar'Tcheras wore. Nevertheless, he maintained his disguise, if only to keep the inquisitor guessing. When he spoke, it was in the easy tone of an old friend, trustworthy and kind, perfected by centuries of practice, "You are an Inquisitor, analogous to what I would call a Paladin, yes? You have come here to destroy the supremely evil individuals collected here, and prevent their goal, the coming of the fiend called Gargauth."

He paused there for a moment, expectant of something bad to happen merely for speaking the damned god's name in less than reverent tones. Normally not superstitious, he was still one of the few players here who'd never directly interacted with Gargauth, only heard his name whispered by the blackest lips in Ayenee. With him and his servants so close, these was no telling what attention that name might attract.

Nevertheless, he pauses only a moment before continuing his speech before the Inquisitor, "But you are not a normal man among your bretheren, whose noble efforts would be wasted, unwilling as they are to do what must be done for the greater good. You have the strength of will to master the very evil you fight against, to lot loose a demon upon other demons, that they might destroy each other.

If these things I speak are the truth, then our goals are the same, and we'd best make our pact quickly, it will not be much longer before all hope of success is beyond reach."

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If, for some insane reason, Archsole or Chaos decided to follow Lim-Dul into the portal, Prince would send his Astral form in with them, but even then only out of the pyschic compulsion in his mind to obey the orders of Saar'Tcheras in regards to making contact with his lord's allies.

But, hopefully before can make such a rash decision, Prince speaks out against the idea, prefering to stay here with an only almost certain chance of painful death, as opposed to the certainty that exists in Gargauth's realm.

"Masters, shall we make preperations in this world while Master Lim-Dul finishes whatever preperations he must make with the Great One, which he surely does not wish to be interrupted in doing?"
 
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