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Author Topic: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)  (Read 40003 times)

Offline Danyael

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #160 on: December 19, 2018, 12:31:39 AM »
He had seconds to react as the obsidian shell begins to encase around Abbadon. One of the orbs, as they were each an extension of himself, shot toward Abbadon in a snap, making its way within the barrier just as the shell snapped itself around her. The chanting had stopped and only silence lingered, only for the orb to rapidly batter away at the shell. In synch with its brethren, the remaining 15 orbs erratically hammered onto the shell in violently erratic rapid fire over and over again. With the single orb on the inside and the remaining 15 on the outside, the shell was being attacked on both fronts. With each impact, a word from the guttural language barks into audibility. And with the speed and increasing frequency of their movement, the single word strikes from all 16 orbs once again started their chanting under a different tactic now. Not only this, but the Nephilim Lord could perceive the form of the Despoiler in full, her energy flaring in all colors anything but welcoming. And all of which well beyond the definition of sinister. But he had a clear depiction of her form. And an even clearer depiction of her position.

In addition to Gulgrim Bonecruncha’s cannon fire and relentless eruptions of WAAAGH!!! energy from various locations of the battlefield, as well as Soul Reaver’s direct attack against Abbadon’s shell, Danyael had now elected to enter the fray directly. But not before the sudden influx of energies took his notice and the tendrils of black energy burst from the ground to reach for their new prey.

The tendrils surge forth, and would have very well latched onto Danyael… if he were in physical form. Which he currently was not. And so they grasped at little more than air as the miasma that was his form parted and reformed like wind through a mist. But the lack of physical didn’t mean that physical harm was all there was to avoid, with the onset of a sudden and almost overwhelming His miasmal form spread, then constricted, then spread again, then spiraled toward the Yamato still in the ground behind him. The tendrils followed, but were lead into the whirling disc of the now dislodged Yamato, shredding them away down to the roots. And then both the sword and the swirling smoke form of the Nephilim lord leapt from the ground to land menacingly in the form of what lookd like a miniature thunderstorm. The Yamato whirling around him with speed so swift it was as if Danyael’s currently shapeless form was being enswathed by arcs of prismatic light.

The storm surged overhead, the chanting now picking up directly from his formless lips as he began to swell and spiral over the shell. All time slowed under his perception as his speed quickened thrice that of his companions. The crackle and boom of thunder shook the battlements as he took his original shape, accompanied by five echoes, each wielding a different weapon of the somnus.

While the five echoes spread, then spiraled down to directly catapult themselves at the shell at the same time as Soul Reaver, Danyael, Yamato in hand, hurled himself at the shell from above – sword tip aimed with the intent of making contact with the Despoiler’s head…

…if the barrier breaks.
"Yeah, well, ya' better have a spatula where we're goin' cause my ass is frozen to this yak!" :o

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #161 on: December 20, 2018, 04:12:18 PM »
Oh.

Abbadon grabs onto the crimson tendrils.  It is a wonder that she is able to hold onto them and withstand the raw energy.  He digs his heels into the floor, straining to keep her in place.  Just a moment longer.  Just...

No!

Kitharsis's feet leave the ground.  Even his strength is no match for Abbadon in this form.  He simply has no time to react as he careens toward Soul Reaver.

The tiny mage scrambles, attempting to work a spell to stop the collision from happening.  But to no avail.  The two warriors collide, each taking precautions to not let the pointy ends of things come in contact with one another.

Kitharsis lands on his feet, somehow managing to twist himself around in the air using the tendrils still attached to Abbadon.  As he steadies himself, Abbadon's black tendrils burst forth as she cocoons herself in a shell of obsidian.  Kitharsis immediately snuffs out his own tendrils as he feels his energy being drained into them.  The skeletal mage zaps any other tendrils that get too close with a burst of magic.

Jharm explodes in a wash of Light.  It envelops the spire, reinvigorating Kitharsis as it does so.  His tattoos flare a bright white as the Light purges a large amount of dark energy within him.

Both Soul Reaver and Danyael assault the obsidian sphere.  Whatever Abbadon is doing in there cannot be good.  Kitharsis unsheathes his horseman's pick and hefts it in both hands.  The head begins to glow as he feeds energy into it.  With a grunt he charges forward.  Upon reaching the obsidian sphere he rears the pick above his head and crashes it down on the surface.  The buildup of energy releases in a violent explosion.  He intends to continue swinging against the sphere, or whatever may come from inside of it if the companions' efforts are successful.

Offline Cameron

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #162 on: December 24, 2018, 12:20:20 PM »
Abbadon roars in fury as one of Danyael’s spheres, which she had been ignoring up until this point, rushes into the obsidian shell before it can close. With a vicious swing, she deflects it away from her with Drach’nyen, only for it to bounce off of the inside of the shell and blast her directly in the face. She recoils, a pinkish liquid flowing freely from her broken face. With another swing, she deflects the sphere before it can hit her a third time and then erects a smaller, thicker obsidian shell around herself, shrinking her body mass to fit inside. She can hear the sphere battering back and forth between the two shells and knows it’s only a matter of time before this second line of defense falls.

“There are too many. I cannot fight them all at once by myself.”

This was her folly. As it was his folly the first time they fought. As it was Ahriman’s folly when he allowed them to come here. They all thought to take this seasoned group of warriors on by themselves. They underestimated them. Even with Abbadon’s fresh body and newfound power, she was still no match for them when they were fighting as a group like this. Only the wretch Peterson had seen this wisdom, trying to divide them and turn them against each other rather than attack them directly. And even that had eventually failed.

Time slows. Abbadon can hear the thunderous sound of Gulgrim’s heavy weapons fire joining in with the rhythmic shelling of Danyael’s magic spheres. She can feel Soul Reaver preparing magics that will shatter both shields like glass and turn that glass against her. She can feel Kitharsis, preparing to charge, looking to strike the blow that will be the catalyst for this happening. She can feel her shadowy tentacles torn away by the light of the Seraphim. This is the end, and she will soon be dead. Again.

“This cannot happen. Not to me. Not again. I am the Avatar of Chaos.”

Time slows. Abbadon ignores what she is sensing around him and turns her attention outward. Her forces are failing. The Eldar, Tau, and Seraphim’s reinforcements were too much to overcome. The Eye is moments away from falling out of her control.

“This CANNOT happen. I am the AVATAR OF CHAOS.”

Time slows. Abbadon looks inward.

“No. I am not. Not yet.”

Trapped in a shell, moments from death, Abbadon reaches out to her patron saints.

“Oh Ruinous Powers. Have I not served you? Have I not given you everything? Have I not asked nothing in return for myself? I stayed true to you even when the traitor Ahriman forsook you. I have vanquished the traitor and even now endeavor to undo his vile work. But I cannot do it alone.”

Abbadon shrinks even smaller. The first obsidian barrier has already shattered. Time is still slowed, but she can feel them coming. The spell will shatter the second sphere and Soul Reaver and Kitharsis are directly behind it. Soul Reaver is lined up for a killing blow and Abbadon has nothing left to defend herself with but faith.

“Your birthplace is about to fall. The Eye is about to close. I have nothing left. Nothing left to offer you.”

Abbadon sighs. Regardless of whether his pleas are heard or not, this is the end. She could allow the Companions to kill her again. Lie dormant and wait for another body to come along. But she will never be able to defeat them. This is the end. And Abbadon refuses to live in a world where she has been utterly defeated.

“I have nothing left to offer you but myself.”

Abbadon reaches out with her mind, still psychically attuned from when it belonged to Kalana. She reaches into the Warp.

“Come. This vessel is yours. Fill it with yourselves and cast out this rabble that seeks to silence you.”

The Spire trembles. The ground shakes. Deep in the core of this dead world, inside the pulsing tear in reality that Abbadon and Ahriman once tore open to help expand the Eye, something stirs.

“BLOOD GOD!”

The second sphere cracks. Soul Reaver is moments from his target.

“CHANGER OF THE WAYS!”

The Spire begins to crack.

“GREAT LORD OF DECAY!”

Allied forces around the city stop fighting and look around as the ground trembles under their feet.

“PRINCE OF EXCESS!”

The tear in reality buried in the core of this dead world, responsible for allowing the Eye to grow at rates exceeding 1000 meters an hour during Ahriman’s machinations, tears wide open. 4 massive, unknowable figures ride the massive surge of Warp energy upwards.

“I GIVE YOU MY LIFE. SUMMON FORTH THE TRUE AVATAR OF CHAOS.”

Abbadon feels the power welling up beneath her, and then feels no more, as her physical form ceases to exist.

Kitharsis strikes the second sphere just as Soul Reaver’s spell weakens it, and it shatters, driving the shards inward as Soul Reaver’s attack strikes true. Danyael also strikes from the sky, and both Blooddrinker and the Yamato both make contact with what used to be Abbadon’s head. But instead, they sink into a fleshy mound, along with the obsidian shards. The shards are absorbed into the mound. It would appear that Abbadon’s new body has turned itself inside out and collapsed in on itself to form an egg shape. Pink gore splashes Danyael and Soul Reaver as they rip their weapons from the vile construct. And before they have a chance to react, the ground rumbles and the Spire sways.

Mary had been about to dash forward with them when the Warp fluctuation beneath the planet caught her attention. She now shouts a warning, hastily erecting Warp shields around the Companions.

“BRACE YOURSELVES!”

Beneath the Companions, the Spire explodes. The chain of explosions starts at the bottom and works its way up to the broken point, showering the area for miles around with flaming debris. The remains of the Spire collapse into itself as the column of Warp energy that once spewed forth from it’s center grows to 10 times its original size. The Companions, the flesh egg that was formally Abbadon, and Peterson are all engulfed. To an experienced Warp Traveler, the feeling is identical to being thrown into the Warp when you are not prepared, and only the Warp shields hastily erected by Mary stop them from being instantly destroyed or mutated beyond recognition.

Peterson had quickly thrown himself away from Cameron as the Spire began to explode, surrounding himself with a barrier as the Warp energy engulfed them all. He looks to the fleshy egg in the center of this madness.

“Abby, what the fuck? You don’t just throw your friends into the Warp without at least… warning… them first…”

Peterson tails off as the egg begins to bulge.

“Oh, Abby. You’re gone, aren’t you?”

The egg explodes, showering anyone close by with gore. The daemon blade Drach’nyen is hurled from the explosion and out of the  column of warp energy, quickly lost from view. A massive creature unfolds itself out of the void left behind, continuing to unfold and unfold itself until it hangs in the air fully formed, at least 6 stories tall. The beast has 4 heads. One of a snake, constantly shifting and changing. One is that of an impossibly beautiful human, laughing with pleasure. One is the horned head of a large creature, dripping pus and other unidentified substances from it’s jaws. And the last is a brass-armored hound like face, snarling and dripping blood from it’s fangs. The massive creature has many arms, holding all manner of weaponry, from dripping axes to chainswords to staves that crackle with eldritch magic. The creature cries out with a thousand voices, all speaking in unison.

“WE ARE THE AVATAR OF CHAOS. WE HAVE PAUSED OUR GREAT GAME TO GRACE YOU WITH OUR PRESENCE. THERE IS NOWHERE LEFT FOR YOU BUT HERE. WITH US. FOR ETERNITY.”

Peterson regards the Avatar of Chaos for a moment before acting.

“Welp, that’s it for me. Later, guys.”

In a burst of energy, Peterson throws himself backwards and through the border of the flowing warp energy. Cameron, completely ignoring the Avatar, roars in anger.

“No you don’t, you SON OF A BITCH.”

Bursting into his full Elemental form, Cameron charges after Peterson, plowing through the border himself despite Mary’s protests.

“Cameron! Wait! FUCK.”

Mary glances at a data pad that she produces from his armor, and then looks back to the Avatar, who laughs in thousands of voices.

“THEY ARE NOW LOST IN THE WARP FOR ETERNITY. AS IS ANYONE ELSE WHO PASSES THROUGH THAT BARRIER. WOE BE UNTO THEM.”

Mary looks at the other Companions one at a time, her gaze finally lingering on Danyael. She speaks to them all, despite keeping her gaze locked on him.

“I have to go save him. I have no choice. Those warp shields should hold and keep you safe until you are finished with this. I’ll come back if I can.”

Mary closes her eyes, explodes into her elemental form, and then vanishes. The Avatar laughs again.

“EITHER MAKE PEACE WITH YOUR GODS OR CHOOSE THE SWIFT DEATH OF THE WARP LIKE YOUR FRIENDS. IT MATTERS NOT TO US HOW THE BLOOD IS SHED, ONLY THAT IT IS SHED.”

The Avatar looms large, waiting.

“MAKE YOUR CHOICE.”
« Last Edit: February 02, 2019, 09:23:55 PM by Cameron »

Offline Shadow Chorus

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #163 on: December 24, 2018, 10:01:01 PM »
As it turned out, Abaddon was exactly the cowardly grot that Gulgrim thought she was. But that was somewhat less important in the long run, because in the hectic chaos that blasted through the end of that battle, Gulgrim found himself and his allies face to face with the avatar of not one, but -all- of the chaos gods, all inhabiting the same host.

Gulgrim felt something new. A tremor in his hands, the presence of sweat that wasn't formed by heat. A waver of his eye as it gazed up and down the ever-shifting bulk of the Avatar's form. He brought his cybork arm up to his face to wipe the sweat from it. Was this fear? Was this the feeling that made puny humans run in terror when they caught sight of Gulgrim on the war march?

As Gulgrim looked up at the towering avatar of chaos and felt his entire form tremble, he deciphered that this was indeed fear he was feeling. Fear. And Excitement. This...This was the biggest fight Gulgrim could think of. Bigger than anything and everything that had come before. As much as Gulgrim shook at the awesome power that was on display before him, he could feel that driving his Ork nature even further into overdrive. His look of nervous fright slowly dissolved into a mad grin, his orky tusks glinting in the glow of the warp.

Gulgrim felt energy welling inside him. More than ever before, more even than during the battle against Soul Reaver, when he was fresh into the fight and raring to go. He didn't know if even he could contain all of this building WAAAGH!!! energy. It tore at his insides, threatening to blast his skull open from the sheer force of it. The warboss clenched his fists, lightning arcing and striking out at objects around him. For a moment his vision went white, and in his mind's eye he saw a place far from here.

In the distance of his vision, a pair of mountains drifted in the semi-real realms of the empyrean. These titanic objects seemed huddled together in the mists of the mind that were the warp's wild environs.

But these were no mountains, and as he watched they began to turn.

He couldn't quite make them out, their true appearance muddled by the realm they called home, but Gulgrim could not mistake the vast forms of the twin gods of the orks. Gork and Mork turned their brutally kunnin' gazes to their chosen champion.

"You'z ready fer dis fight." Mork's voice, like a subtle avalanche, swept into his ears.

"You'z gonna krush dese spikey gods." Came Gork's voice, like a focused landslide.

"We'z Gork an' Mork. An' You'z our chosen avatar. We'z can't ever be beat, an' neither can you."

The two gods leaned their heads back, opened their colossal, fanged orky maws, and erupted in a war cry that bellowed across the warp and reverberated through Gulgrim's very soul, and soon followed spilling out of his own mouth.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"


A tornado of wind and emerald lightning cracked and stormed around the Warboss, his cybork eye glowing like a red sun as he clenched his fists and tilted his head back for this ear-shattering cry that blasted through ear and mind like a sonic boom.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity the cry died down, and Gulgrim fixed the towering avatar of chaos with his grinning, Orky visage.

"I'z said it ta yer grot, I'll sez it ta you. I'z Gulgrim Bonecruncha. An I'z da avatar o' Gork an' Mork. I'z ready fer ya, spikey gods. Come n' see why Orks can't ever be beat."

Offline Soul Reaver

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #164 on: December 30, 2018, 08:05:27 PM »
Within the obsidian shield, powers much greater than those wielded by Ahriman or Abaddon shred apart the magical barrier Soul Reaver had erected - it was never intended to hold at bay the sentient manifestations of Chaos...

There is a mighty crack as Kitharsis' blow shatters the second shell.  Soul Reaver's combined spells complete, tearing the obsidian apart, then driving the glassy slivers inwards.  Blooddrinker streaks toward its target, accompanied by Danyael swooping in from above.

However, the sight that greets Soul Reaver is no longer Abaddon - only a vile, mass of organ-like pulsing flesh.  Blooddrinker sinks into the disgusting meat with little resistance.

Soul Reaver pulls the blade free, sending a jet of pink fluid squirting at him, only for it to evaporate is it enters the blue flames of his Fire Shield.  Though Abaddon is no more, a sense of dread washes over him.  He could tell that this transformation heralded the starts of something worse, and he subconsciously takes a step back.

The ground tilts beneath Soul Reaver as the spire shudders in its death throes.  Barely maintaining his footing, he hears Mary shout "BRACE YOURSELVES!" just as the spire begins to explode.

A Warp Shield flickers into life around Soul Reaver as the ground beneath him blasts itself into gravel and a pillar of Chaos Warp energy engulfs him.

Reeling from the unexpected blast, he barely has a chance to registers Peterson's words before the fleshy egg erupts into the Avatar of Chaos, the resulting explosion sending Drach'nyen spinning away into nothingness.  Pink gore once more sizzles into nothingness as it impacts on the Fire Shield as the Avatar of Chaos reveals itself in all its terrible glory.

Looking upon the creature, Soul Reaver knows the horror of what he is facing even before it speaks.  Its words only confirm what he already instinctively knows.  His grip on Blooddrinker tightens.

Then suddenly, Peterson's spiritual signature disappears - which would be a small blessing, were it not followed by Cameron.  Soul Reaver is about to protest when Mary states that she has to join him, but is too late.  She too joins them, leaving the rest of the companions to face the Avatar of Chaos by themselves.

“EITHER MAKE PEACE WITH YOUR GODS OR CHOOSE THE SWIFT DEATH OF THE WARP LIKE YOUR FRIENDS. IT MATTERS NOT TO US HOW THE BLOOD IS SHED, ONLY THAT IT IS SHED.  MAKE YOUR CHOICE.”

Soul Reaver did not just believe in the gods, he knew of their existence with certainty.  But it had been lifetimes since he had prayed to them.

What mattered were not the Gods, but rather how one would respond to the hand that fate dealt to them.  There were always choices.  He knew that the right one was usually the one strewn with thorns.

Beside Soul Reaver, Gulgrim surges with Waaagh energy so strong that he can almost feel it throbbing in his own skull.  But he looks up at the Avatar of Chaos with a sense of calm - almost serenity.  This was his calling, was it not?  To shed blood so that others would not.

He hefts Blooddrinker two-handed, the blade still shimmering orange.  The Daemon within the blade is forced into frustrated silence, Soul Reaver's iron will dominating it completely.

He meets the gaze of the four-headed Avatar.

"I am at peace."

His grip tightens as the crimson lightning playing over his body intensifies.

"And I will share it with you."

Offline Jharm

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #165 on: December 31, 2018, 04:15:37 AM »
The almost unmoving form of the Seraphim shifts as events unfold around him.  The combined might of the Companions blasts against Abbadon's defenses, overwhelming them just in time for the Chaos sorcerer to..."transform' into something much, much worse.  The departure of Peterson could almost be said to be a blessing, if it did not also wind up costing the presence of both Cameron and Mary at the same time.  As the surrounding area explodes and the Avatar of Chaos arrives, Jharm groans and slowly gets to his feet, still weak after his violent transformation from the Avatar of Vengeance.  His gaze shifts up to the wholly demonic and utterly harrowing sight before him.

"By the Light...I should have known..."

He grips his hands tightly as his strength falters and he drops down to one knee, clearly still weak after his recent efforts.  Then from behind him the faint visage of 3 figures appear.  The Council of Light gaze down at the Seraphim as their words manifest within his mind

Seraphim...you must end this at once.  We have sensed that Darkness moves against us once more.  We offer what little more we can safely give.  See that it is not in vain.

One of the three figures extends a hand towards Jharm, their palm raised skywards as a faint beam of golden light appears between them and the Seraph leader.  The moment the beam reaches him, Jharm shakes slightly and slowly gets to his feet as his strength begins to return to him.

"By the Light....this hellspawn shall fall..."
« Last Edit: February 02, 2019, 09:29:03 PM by Cameron »
When you can't run....you crawl...when you can't crawl...you find someone to carry you.

Offline Kitharsis

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #166 on: January 10, 2019, 01:55:24 PM »
Abbadon is gone.  Left in its stead was a fleshy egg.  Soul Reaver sinks his deamon sword into the thing, finding no resistance.  As the blade pulls free Kitharsis weighs what this could mean.  Abbadon was not one to give up so easily. 

The ground shakes, a symptom of what is to come.  Kitharsis launches himself backwards, away from the conspicuous mound of flesh.  As he does so a warp shield -of all things- wraps around him and the tiny mage.  No sooner does Kitharsis land, that the spire explodes beneath him.  In the chaos, Kitharsis feels the power of the Warp as it engulfs the spire.

The egg, whatever was left of Abbadon, impossibly unfolds itself into a massive beast.  Kitharsis stares in wonder at the Avatar of Chaos.  Such a monster turning its gaze to the companions tells of the impact they have had on the forces of Chaos.  This is the being chosen as their champion, or at least the one thrust upon them by their masters.  While the gravity of their situation is not lost on him, he cannot help but feel a degree of honor to face such a foe.

Kitharsis sheathes his horseman's pick.  It is, after all, merely a tool to channel his power.  The trinkets and rune stones at his belt would be mere jokes to such a creature.  No, this will require a degree of power above such things.

His tattoos glow fiercely as he judges the Avatar of Chaos.  The air around him grows hot and dry as he channels the powers of an arid desert.  The air shimmers with the intensity of the heat.

He is prepared for war.

Offline Danyael

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #167 on: January 17, 2019, 04:42:38 PM »
As the yamato sinks in, the echoes, in sink with Danyael's focus, vanish back into the ether - the weapons of the somnus going with them. In the same instant, the nephilim lord cuts upward with his blade, leaping a safe enough distance away to survey yet another new circumstance.

As Mary chases after Cameron, the nephilim lord calls after her, but too late, she's already through the threshold of the warp. He positioned himself to go after her, having traversed the warp before. He survived countless eternities during his exile. What was one more. But something compelled him to stay. A power spike unlike any other pulsed and throbbed like the beat of a drum, the energies bobbing and flowing in all directions as his eyes turned back to the central grotesque egg that he and Soul Reaver had penetrated earlier, the beast from within bursting forth. Danyael's own revulsion at the 'sight' of the creature can no longer be hidden. "...gross." it was a wrenching sight to behold, even for him. As the avatar spoke, the nephilim lord's sight perceived the energies around it, all of them pallid, pale, barbed... and even beautiful.

As it spoke, he said nothing in response at first, then decided why not and yelled back an ungentlemanly two worded response in reference to the creature's head. He would show them no fear. He would show them no despair. He would show them no wrath. At least not yet. All he would show them now was the neutrality of his focus. Twirling the Yamato into a single handed salute, blade uplifted in front of his face - he lowered himself into a two handed defensive combat stance, the edge of the yamato aimed at his new enemy while the handle, held fast in the clutch of both hands, was held high by the side of his face.
"Yeah, well, ya' better have a spatula where we're goin' cause my ass is frozen to this yak!" :o

Offline Cameron

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #168 on: February 02, 2019, 10:30:23 PM »
The four faces of the Avatar of Chaos regard the Companions coldly as they, one by one, make their choice. The thousands of voices again speak in unison.

"SO BE IT."

In the blink of an eye, the Avatar is in motion. It strikes out at it’s foes simultaneously, bringing it’s many instruments of destruction to bear.

Gulgrim finds himself assaulted seemingly on all sides by various weapons of war. Brass axes and hammers swing at his midsection while two mighty chainswords seek to remove his head from his body. As the attacks come, Gulgrim can hear a voice cutting through the many other voices ringing in his ears, a growl of inexhaustible rage tearing through the din and into the Ork’s very soul.

“FIGHT ME, O GREAT WAR BRINGER. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!”

Kitharsis finds a number of eldritch staffs pointed in his direction and is quickly surrounded by awful violet tendrils of pure magic. They lash out repeatedly, attempting to strike both Kitharsis and his bony mage. Lightning crackles from them in great arcs, ensuring that even the tendrils that miss their target will still pass close enough to damage him. Voices taunt him from somewhere nearby, each one repeating the same words with different tones and inflections, and some of them saying the same thing in different languages.

“SO MUCH POTENTIAL WASTED ON ONE SUCH AS YOU. THE POWER WITHIN YOU SEEKS TO CHANGE YOU. TO MAKE YOU STRONGER. BETTER. YET YOU RESIST. EMBRACE THE CHANGE OR ACCEPT YOUR FATE.”

Jharm finds himself engulfed in a swirling mass of rotting, putrid flesh. Various limbs reach out from the infected mass and attempt to incapacitate the Seraphim. Gnarled bony fingers clutch at him and attempt to hold him back, while fleshy protrusions covered in teeth and claws attempt to tear him asunder. The ancient elderly voice that emits from these fleshy constructs maintains a jolly demeanor, rasping happily in the back of Jharm’s mind.

“ALL THINGS MUST COME TO AND END. YOU’VE SPENT SO MUCH TIME FIGHTING. YOU MUST BE WEARY. TIRED. IN PAIN. I CAN TAKE THESE THINGS FROM YOU. JUST GIVE UP. LET IT GO.”

Danyel is quickly surrounded by a seemingly endless crowd of lithe, faceless figures of an indeterminable race or gender. They dart around him, laughing and taunting, darting in from multiple directions to slash at him with knives and blades while others hang back and attempt to restrain him with whips and chains. Every attack parried or dodged leaves him open for another, and the crowd shows no sign of stopping. A beautiful voice rings out, dripping with lust.

“THIS IS NO PLACE FOR ROYALTY. LET THE OTHERS FIGHT YOUR BATTLES. THEIR PAIN SHALL BE YOUR PLEASURE. SURRENDER TO YOUR DESIRES AND TAKE YOUR RIGHTFUL PLACE ABOVE THESE WRETCHED SCUM!”

Soul Reaver can see all this happening, because unlike the others, he is not targeted at first. The main host regards him coldly, it’s four faces leering.

“YOU WHO DEALS WITH INFERNO. WHO WIELDS THE STRENGTH OF DEMONS. YOU WHO SEEKS JUSTICE ABOVE ALL. WE HAVE FOLLOWED YOUR PROGRESS WITH SOME INTEREST. IT WAS FATED THAT OUR PATHS WOULD CROSS. THE OTHERS ARE MEANINGLESS TO US. YOU, HOWEVER, SHOW THE GREATEST POTENTIAL.”

The Avatar rears back, bringing a number of its appendages to bear.

“WE SHALL CAST YOU INTO THE FIRE, TO EXPOSE THE DIAMOND HIDDEN WITHIN. YOU WILL BEND TO OUR WILL, OR WE WILL BREAK YOU.”

The arms are upon Soul Reaver. He finds himself attacked by chainswords from either direction. Eldritch lightning washes over him. He is engulfed by an awful gas that chokes the very breath from his lungs. And through it all, a voice whispers in the back of his mind, calling him to surrender, attempting to break through his mental defenses.

Offline Jharm

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #169 on: February 04, 2019, 08:56:03 PM »
The Seraphim coughs and almost gags as he finds himself surrounded  by rotten, repulsive flesh, the odor almost overwhelming him as he works to fend off the vile claws and teeth.

"Never!  I am a Warrior of the Light.  I shall never cease in combatting the Darkness in whatever form it takes!  Your sickening, twisting words mean nothing!  The Light shall purge away your pestilence!"

Jharms form begins to glow as a shield manifests around him, helping to protect him against both the effects of the rotten flesh surrounding him as well as the multitude of teeth and claws attempting to strike at him.  His hammer swings around, crushing any appendages that get too close.  As he swings the hammer around with his right hand, the Seraphim forms a glowing blade of light in his left and begins to slash and hack at the flesh surrounding him as he begins to attempt to slice his wave out of the macabre prison.
When you can't run....you crawl...when you can't crawl...you find someone to carry you.

Offline Shadow Chorus

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Re: The Eye of Terror: End of Terror (Part I)
« Reply #170 on: February 05, 2019, 02:22:34 PM »
As weapons surge toward Gulgrim from all sides, the voice of the blood god roars in his mind, but Gulgrim does not respond. Instead, he merely raises both of his arms to the sides of his head, intercepting the incoming chainswords. There is a grinding sound as the teeth of the massive weapons chew through Gulgrim's Cybork arm, but for some reason find it difficult to bite into his Orky flesh. After a few seconds both chainswords grind to a halt however, as do the axes and hammers, each  arresting their movement without Gulgrim seeming to flinch.

As the last of the metal of Gulgrim's cybork arm falls away, what is revealed is an arm of green fire underneath the workings. A new limb formed of pure WAAAGH!!! energy holds back one of the chainswords, while his other arm seems to have hardened to stop the second.

Meanwhile, the weapons aiming for the Warboss's midsection slowly begin to inch away as a pair of spectral arms, which had crossed in front of Gulgrim's gut to take the blows, push outward.

There is a rumbling sound as the Warboss looks up at the towering avatar of chaos undivided.

"Orkz show strength an' power through size, roight Gulgrim?" the ork seemed to ask himself. "Das right, ya stupid spikey god, why you'z ask?"

"Well den why'z you so small?"

"Dat's easy ya dumb spikey grot." The weapons began to push further back as Gulgrim's form seemed to swell with power and size, his height and breadth beginning to increase. "Dat's because I'z kunnin. I knowz 'ow strong I iz. I'z da Avatar o' Gork n' Mork. Ain't nuffin' I can't beat. But showin' it off's jus' a way to give the game away too quick."

His body continued to swell in size and bulk as he spoke, a mad grin across his face. "If'n I alwayz prounced about as big as dat Ghazghkull git, everyone'd know I wuz somefin' ta reckon with. It'd ruin da surprize."

As big as a hab-block now. Bigger even than the ancient legends told of The Beast. Green lightning danced at his words.

"But sometimes it's time ta show 'em just how mean an' green ya really are. An' dat's when you show 'em what da biggest and baddest Ork in da whole 'ooniverse looks like. An' dat's what Mork's cunnin' is all about. 'It em hard when dey Underestimate ya."

The ork must have been approaching the size of a small Titan by this point, but in the realms of the Empyrean it was impossible to truly judge scale, especially when compared to the tower that was his opponent. He brought his physical arm back, reeling back for a punch, and the outline of two more spectral fists, the hands of Gork and Mork, seemed to manifest over his shoulder, equally pulled back and ready.

"An' den wif Gork's Brutality, you hit 'em even harder when dey realize it."

And then, with force like a falling skyscraper, Gulgrim's fist and the fists of Gork and Mork slammed forward like they were fired from a cannon, explosive, earth-shattering force on a collision course with the body of Chaos's avatar.
« Last Edit: February 05, 2019, 02:27:10 PM by Shadow Chorus »