Hell on Prime (IC)

[Sir_Chivalry]

You awake in a room not your own, darkness pervades every inch, unpierced by magical sight, even the mighty eyes of a devil.

You can hear voices nearby.

[SilentNight]

Kelest Bethvenor
Upon waking Kelest's blood-red arm shoots out, fingers seeking a pressure point on a non-existent attacker. Confused and suspicious, he cautiously rises in complete darkness. None of this made sense, his bodyguards were powerful and faithful, he'd taught them well how they'd fare without his syn. Kelest makes a mental note to convert and sacrifice them immediately before calling upon his pact's power and vanishing from sight (were there light). As his ears perk and pick up the sound of voices, he cautiously moves towards them, a disintegration spell ready on his fingertips.

[Niezck]

Awaking in this foreign room, Laveillon quickly comes to grips with his surroundings, taking a very good look around as he checks his possessions. Finding his rapier, he feels relief wash over him as he draws it and feels that familiar icy tingle.

As he hears voices he takes to his feet, performing arcane gestures as he does so before disappearing. He once more takes account of the room and anything in it, using enhanced vision as he does so.

Spoiler

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Silent Superior Invisibility followed by a True Seeing to look around the room.

Spot - (d20+4)[19]
Listen - (d20+4)[8]

[Frozen Messiah]

Shaddon's eyes burst into light from being incapacitated. "Treason, maybe." Shaddon whispers to himself as he rises to his full stature and moved his large arms out in front of him. "Darkness there and nothing more..." He noted the lacking of hostiles and the emptiness in the room. he then picked up the sound of talking and began moving towards it with his blade readied. As he moved towards them he noted the lacking of his colonel, his artillery, and his "staff". As he moved he began to scan the area telepathically trying to find the mind of the colonel, that maelstrom of dark thought and insane ideas.

[monkman]

Thokk get up and tryes to adjust his eyes to the darkness, He lifts his giantic axe,to big for a human to hold, and then says Seaster, come to me.Imedialtly after a great lion appear.Thokk then whisper to the lionIf you know that something is coming ,Kill it. He then start walking to the voice

[Magicyop]

Hr'gol

Hr'gol stumbles to his feet. "What is this?!" he growls, his face contorting into a scowl. How was he incapacitated? Where is he? Upon hearing voices he draws his club, a less powerful duplicate of his lord's Ruby Rod, and stands ready for battle, clearly about to let out a yell.

[Sir_Chivalry]

A small red light appears at the far end of the room, pulsing in a slow rhythm.

[Niezck]

This new light entering Laveillon's gaze, he makes toward it, keeping as silent as he can.

Spoiler

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Can we have an OOC thread?

Also, - Move Silently - (d20+12)[22]

[Sir_Chivalry]

OOC

Spoiler

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OOC thread

[HandofCrom]

Abdalsim

The small, weathered gnome rises and tries to take in his surroundings. Upon seeing the light, he pauses for a moment, smirks, and takes the form of a dirty human child in tattered clothing. The orphan child's smile is replaced with a mein of fear and confusion, and he heads towards the light.

Spoiler

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I use the hat of disguise to appear like a human child.

[monkman]

Thokk walks slowly folowing the voice and keeping his hand on his great lion telling him
If there is something that is walking towards us, Attack.

[SilentNight]

Kelest moves slowly towards the light, spell still on the tip of his tongue.

[Frozen Messiah]

Shaddon steps towards the dark light, his blade readied. "I as the Herald of Bel, Field Commander of the First choose your next move crefully for it may be your last." Shaddon yells as he moves toward the light.

[Sir_Chivalry]

Shaddon steps towards the dark light, his blade readied. "I as the Herald of Bel, Field Commander of the First choose your next move crefully for it may be your last." Shaddon yells as he moves toward the light.

The light flashes a deep crimson and an image of flaming greatsword appears within the light.

"I know of you well Field Commander Shaddon, for we have met before. In your dark dreams, your forgotten nightmares, which you have long since carved from your mind with the cold, metallic, unloving embrace of undeath, perversions sired in the neglected revel of Demogorgon, the calculations of The Reaper, and the self-righteous punishment of the Shining Light of Burning Hatred."

The light's flames die down, and a chill fills the air, sticky and humid, an underlying warmth to it. The floor seems to glow, as if deep purple moss grew beneath the surface.

"Ever seeking to destroy and unmake, son of bloodlines profane and ageless, witless pawn who has made himself king, to delay the day the board is taken away. Harken Shaddon, for you stand now in the presense of a being rejected by the courts of shadow, air, water and stars. Step forth child of Hinryth, and let your silvery mask reveal the duality of your soul."

Foul rancid mists seeps from the ground, blue and hazy, the stench of carrion and filth filling the air.

"Ever does the fly bite the lion's hide, but what of the lion who serves his tormentor, seeking riches and power in his master's wake? The lion must seek other carrion for his master, and in doing so must learn to disguise himself from the eyes of his prey, coming forth in the clothing of the mountain goat or savannah deer, lulling his mark before pouncing. Claws and thick hide protect him from most, but what will become of the lion once he is dead? He is once again a meal for the flies."

The mists roil for a moment, and then burst into a flame, filling the air with heat but still illuminating little, the green flames casting little more than shadows from themselves.

"As if to bait the lion, a child comes forth, trailing behind himself a legacy of shadows and pacts. Age runs forth and back again, as the child who is more deals with those beyond the wheel, and those within its gaps as well. Dark runs his treachery, lies and deceipt hidden behind the fragile face of prankster, trickster, saint. Mighty is he, yet not great. His master would not suffer greatness, but might is always treasured and kept."

Ash falls from the flames, and they choke out, replaced by orange coals and ash, though they seem to steal the heat from the room rather than warming it.

"A wraith approaches, of much portent. Like the ice he is clear, presenseless, yet the layering of his deeds brings forth substance and makes bare the chill of his approach. Thin shard of steely ice, green with the covetous nature of his being, lies frozen in his frigid death grip, though it come at once too soon and too late."

The coals and ash gather into spires, crystalline and jagged in appearance, glittering like bronze spires.

"And the last of the first to wake, though first of the last in mountain high and crevasse low. Like ancient stories of old he crawls in the morning, mired in filth and dining with vermin, only to be swept up by sultan or king in passing splendor, to entertain for a fortnight or two, growing years in staying the executioner's cruel and wicked blade. By the rod shall you know him, but by the might of his deeds shall he be judged!"

[Frozen Messiah]

The light flashes a deep crimson and an image of flaming greatsword appears within the light.

"I know of you well Field Commander Shaddon, for we have met before. In your dark dreams, your forgotten nightmares, which you have long since carved from your mind with the cold, metallic, unloving embrace of undeath, perversions sired in the neglected revel of Demogorgon, the calculations of The Reaper, and the self-righteous punishment of the Shining Light of Burning Hatred."

Shaddon quickly plants his blade into the ground and kneels, his head bowed low. "This is my tale, you speak truths of my nature. If you are so willing speak truths of your own, to this we may allow ourselves to become aquainted. You use my Lords brand and that of the other nine, if you be one than your tongue is that of the greatest of wyrms and if you be many than your comitee is one that takes well to the diabolic." Shaddon says as his mind continues to reach out towards the light since he now understands that it is more than that.

[Cardea]

The High Servant of Glasya laughs. He had followed the sounds of the other eight, careful of his footsteps, and careful of his breath, so as not to alert them to his presence. He had followed them towards the light, and expected an attack of sorts. Something to... test him, challenge him, prove his worth. But this? This was laughable. Was this meant to intimidate him? Them? Whatever this was, it was humorous. And he could not hold his amusement at it all. "And what then, oh great one, do you know of me?"

[monkman]

Foul rancid mists seeps from the ground, blue and hazy, the stench of carrion and filth filling the air.

"Ever does the fly bite the lion's hide, but what of the lion who serves his tormentor, seeking riches and power in his master's wake? The lion must seek other carrion for his master, and in doing so must learn to disguise himself from the eyes of his prey, coming forth in the clothing of the mountain goat or savannah deer, lulling his mark before pouncing. Claws and thick hide protect him from most, but what will become of the lion once he is dead? He is once again a meal for the flies."

And what would this have to do with me? Creature. Saying it in an arrogant manner while making sure he would be able to attack at any moment.

[Niezck]

"A wraith approaches, of much portent. Like the ice he is clear, presenseless, yet the layering of his deeds brings forth substance and makes bare the chill of his approach. Thin shard of steely ice, green with the covetous nature of his being, lies frozen in his frigid death grip, though it come at once too soon and too late."

Taking note of the speech, clearly about himself, Laveillon remains silent, cautious that he should not be revealed. However, rapier in hand, he ventures further toward the light.

[Magicyop]

The coals and ash gather into spires, crystalline and jagged in appearance, glittering like bronze spires.

"And the last of the first to wake, though first of the last in mountain high and crevasse low. Like ancient stories of old he crawls in the morning, mired in filth and dining with vermin, only to be swept up by sultan or king in passing splendor, to entertain for a fortnight or two, growing years in staying the executioner's cruel and wicked blade. By the rod shall you know him, but by the might of his deeds shall he be judged!"

Hr'gol plunges his rod into the floor beneath him and growls. "Who are you, that you speak of my lord Asmodeus such?" His eyes smolder with curiosity and anger.

[Sir_Chivalry]

The High Servant of Glasya laughs. He had followed the sounds of the other eight, careful of his footsteps, and careful of his breath, so as not to alert them to his presence. He had followed them towards the light, and expected an attack of sorts. Something to... test him, challenge him, prove his worth. But this? This was laughable. Was this meant to intimidate him? Them? Whatever this was, it was humorous. And he could not hold his amusement at it all. "And what then, oh great one, do you know of me?"

The ground hiss and seethes, and forth comes a form not unlike a man, its voice wispy and hollow, body struggling to stand or even crawl, slick with slime and riddled with nodes and welts and pulpy flesh.

"Accursed outsider of Hell's ninefold realm, murderer of yourself long before your mistress broke you. I ask you, what business does the afterbirth of the hells, a shadow of past glories made to fight endlessly, have addressing anyone at all? You already serve many masters past that you know nothing of, do you presuppose that your lady is without treachery, to use you like her many other consorts and concubines before and then to send you to languish in the pits of Hell for a time, unseeing, unhearing, uncaring but for swift oblivion?"

[SilentNight]

[QUOTE]"Ever seeking to destroy and unmake, son of bloodlines profane and ageless, witless pawn who has made himself king, to delay the day the board is taken away. Harken Shaddon, for you stand now in the presense of a being rejected by the courts of shadow, air, water and stars. Step forth child of Hinryth, and let your silvery mask reveal the duality of your soul."

Kelest chuckles at the voice, his reason unclear. "My estranged father, is he here? I realize I've never gotten the chance to...thank him. Regardless, my Lord The Bargainer has helped me appreciate my heritage," he says as he inspects his skin, "Now how have you called me here?"

[HandofCrom]

The glamer falls from the gnome, who laughs innocently. Liar? Trickster? Great one, your words wound me! Ever in my service to the Master of Phlegethos have I worked for the Truth. I have merely tried to manifest the most basic universal truth upon the wheel. As the weak hide from and deny this Truth, I must use any means to reveal it, just as shadows illuminate when light blinds.

[Tibbaerrohwen]

Waking from her sound slumber, Nin's consciousness drifts for many moments before she realizes that her vision is not adjusting. In the impenetrable darkness a grimace crosses her face, eyes squinting but seeing nothing. Reflexively, she alters her form, appearing as a young red-headed woman with crystalline blue eyes in a harlequin dress before cautiously stepping through the threshold of the dark room, a hand resting casually on her blade, behind her back.
Hello? I appear to be lost? Hello? Her grip tightening around her sword and her eyes narrowing in frustration.

Entering the chamber with the others, Nin's vision focuses on the crystalline bronze spires, enthralled by their beauty.

[Sir_Chivalry]

Waking from her sound slumber, Nin's consciousness drifts for many moments before she realizes that her vision is not adjusting. In the impenetrable darkness a grimace crosses her face, eyes squinting but seeing nothing. Reflexively, she alters her form, appearing as a young red-headed woman with crystalline blue eyes in a harlequin dress before cautiously stepping through the threshold of the dark room, a hand resting casually on her blade, behind her back.
Hello? I appear to be lost? Hello? Her grip tightening around her sword and her eyes narrowing in frustration.

Entering the chamber with the others, Nin's vision focuses on the crystalline bronze spires, enthralled by their beauty.

The pulpy fleshy being rises to its feet, and all at once the tumours and cysts shrivel and disappear, and it is as if the being is garbed in fine golden vestments.

"Upon the wings of angels does this girl now approach. Long is her history, longer still was her greatest wound, and longest is the vile, putrid existence as one of the consorts of he who slithers, he who covets."

[Tibbaerrohwen]

With a sour scowl Nin reverts to her normal for, extender her wings to their full length in a show of power. Her longsword lays casually readied in her clenched right hand. With supreme arrogance and with a condescending tone she hisses:

My master covets only what is rightfully his and, as his putrid and vile servant, I display more courage and grace than you. If you are so mighty, so great as to have survived since the days of infantile Gods, then why do you spew venom cowering and unseen? You show no more pride than this sniveling mole's-son.

She finishes, motioning towards the gnome.

You proclaim yourself, lacking title or deed, greater than I or my master? Then an extraordinary fool in the great game I proclaim you. You know no more of me than I know of you, senseless specter, and your tales of my master are and insult and a farce in lieu of his majesty.

Concluding with a loud spit upon the ground before her to emphasize her distaste.

[Frozen Messiah]

Shaddon stands to his full height and looks towards all of those who have gathered, and all those who have reacted with such hostility. "You speak before you understand, This being speaks not fo you but the circumstances surrounding you. If you feel insulted by someone pointing out the obvious of you circumstances than you may want to revise your choices." Shaddon says to all of them ecoming annoyed iwth their boastfulness and their egotism.

"Now Being, a creature of your time and strenght must have reason for these actions. I would feel it a great privilge if you would make your purpose known to me so that I amy quickly do honour to my Lord by completing the task at hand, felling all who stand opposed, and sending more troops to combat the neverending tides of Demons that are kept at bay by the might of the Lord of the First." Shaddon raising his sword in salute to his Lord

[Tibbaerrohwen]

Without a glance at Shaddon, more concerned with the being before her, Nin says to him irritatedly:

I do not recall asking for your opinion, mud-man, nor do I feel ashamed or appologize for my past. Simply put, I am not comforted by this spectral voice and deformed creation having gathered agents of vicious wickedness in a single spot. We know not if this echo is a great and powerful being or an insignificant trickster with grander goals beyond the grasp of his stature.

Nin finishes with a sideways glane at the gnome and a short snort.

I cannot speak for you, mud-man, but I have made many powerful enemies, most of whom seek vengence for deals willingly signed centuries ago. The more cunning and well funded of these motrals could easily purchase an illusionist and an army of skilled knights.

With great sarcasim she adds:

Forgive me if I am less than welcoming to a mysterious force that has succeeded in kidnapping and laying me to rest, for the first time in many of your life-times I might add, while simultaneously wisking me away from a rather delightful scene of familia sacrifice and bloodshed.