Post by The Ruined King on Mar 14, 2013 3:00:00 GMT -5
March 31st, 23 CLE
The Ruined King's orders were clear... Turn Demacia into a living nightmare. Shroud the city in absolute darkness and tear the souls and shred the flesh of the living. In any way they deemed fit. No one was to be spared, from infants to the elderly, all must perish within the darkness.
This was simply the beginning. Unexpected, unprovoked and utterly rutheless.
Nocturne and Thresh had been given free reign on this opperation... Soon, Valoran will know the true strength of The Shadow Isles and their King.
I am the one who defied death. I am the one he fears. I am the on he can not take. One sweep of my hand and your nations will fall. Come for me you worms. You will all bow before my legions or be broken beneath us as we march upon your cities.
A dense veil of fog lay draped over the immediate landscape, but even the misty shroud could not mask the haunting presence within. Near the center of the misty field was a solitary patch of faint light, illuminating the low bluff and its two occupants.
Sitting with his legs hanging lazily over the edge, Thresh the Chain Warden held a single soul and was patiently twiddling the glowing sphere between the clawed fingers of his gauntlet. With every pinch and prod, tiny echoing cries would sound from the orb, but Thresh appeared to give it no notice. The foul Warden's attention was focused solely on the sprawling city-scape laid out before him: Demacia.
"Demetrius, is it?" Thresh asked aloud, raising the soul up to his eye-level. "'tis good to be returning to your home state, no? I imagine that you have been missed in the past months. A proud lieutenant you were, and yet now here you are at my mercy."
"....." replied the flickering soul.
"Oh, do not misunderstand me," Thresh hurriedly responded, glancing aside. "Your feats in life were quite noble by any standard. You just were too slow, the highwayman too quick, and the opening you presented in your compassion too large. But I wonder...how would your countrymen see this?"
"......."
"Yes, them. You fought nobly for your cause, but to show mercy to your opponent... It borders on unpatriotic. Now for your decision, your expertise is no longer available for your fellows. How shameful. What shall become of you, then? Shall I take you home, for a finale of your torments? Perhaps I should just consume you now; your energies will be put to good use in waylaying your beloved homeland."
"...!"
"Or perhaps..." Thresh began with a look of grim triumph, steadily getting to his feet. The chains comprising his body rattled ominously, and the soul began quavering and flickering even more quickly. The Chain Warden raised his imprisoning hand into the air, a slight smirk forming on his face and...
...released his grip. The flickering sphere slowly drifted away to the vast fortress city below, steadily growing fainter and fainter as it went.
"Farewell, Demetrius," Thresh stated, offering an almost coy wave to the departing spirit. "We will meet again soon enough. Enjoy seeing your precious city-state be brought to its knees."
Once the departed soldier's soul had faded out of sight, Thresh hefted up his familiar Lantern again, taking his scythe in the other. Once his accomplice arrived, it would be time to get to work.
Post by The Eternal Nightmare on Mar 14, 2013 19:56:53 GMT -5
The skies over Demacia would ever so slightly dim as the Nightmare approached, though to the naked eye he was near invisible. A single shadow sneaking along the ground, moving at a very rapid pace. Were it not for the fact that it were moving in a straight line, Nocturne wouldn't be visible at all. Within a few more moments it would dart into the fog surrounding Thresh, causing it to darken even move and begin billowing around the Chain Warden.
A pair of white were-lights would blink into view next to him, the eyes of the Nighmare locked into an eternal glare. They looked outwards towards the paragon city of Demacia, then turned to look at Thresh. "Where do you wish to begin? A full-scale black out will take me some time."
"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream."
Post by Tahlem Starr on Mar 14, 2013 20:07:35 GMT -5
( Darn shadow isles picking on us ;~;) ( I'll be the city for today i suppose)
On the Demacian city wall, General Tahlem took his nightly patrol and inspection. The fog was quite dense tonight...it has not been like this in months. Some of his soldiers were joking about ghosts and how they will come and "Grab yee lot out of the mist!" mostly to scare the new blood or men who knew no better. He did admit, it was kind of a creepy feel.
Of course, most men were asleep at this time. A good sized watch kept a vigilante night watch on the city for any late night brawls or in the very unlikely case an army is approaching. Though eyes could not help them right now and the only beacons of civilization in the gripping fog were the torches that lined the walls, streets, and in a watchman's hand.
Tahlem settled next to a watchmen at the wall, who glanced at him and saluted swiftly. " Quite a creepy night, General." The man spoke with a shiver. The man shook lightly, keeping three lanterns lit around him at all times.
Tahlem lifted an eye and gave the man a quick pat to his shoulder. " Are you cold Sergeant Callon?" The man shook his head and looked at the ground. " No sir, just..nights like this really give me the creeps. Makes you feel like your going to get grabbed by some ghost..yah know? I don't like it." Tahlem chuckled and smirked at him. The darn superstitions that these men hear. " Better watch out sergeant, or the chains will come out of the mists and drag you away with a rattle, rattle, rattle..." He then returned to his patrol, the man yelling back. " Thats not funny, sir!"
It was quite hard to see...luckily this lantern lit the pathway. What was causing this fog? It is most unusual in Demacia. Though, not impossible of course. Tahlem sighed and entered a lightly lit tower, sitting down at the desk inside and setting his lantern upon it. He unfolded a scroll which held the current watch and read it over.
Thinking nothing more of the fog.
Last Edit: Mar 14, 2013 20:48:43 GMT -5 by Tahlem Starr
As the darkness encroached around Thresh, the Warden's brow only furrowed slightly in annoyance. Flair and flamboyance certainly had their place, but to use such tricks of the mind before the skirmish had even begun was simply a waste. Regardless, the Eternal Nightmare was Thresh's ally for the excursion, and it was far too late to request any sort of replacement. Nocturne would simply have to do.
"Despair and disorder are our goals," Thresh noted as he began to walk almost jauntily towards the high walls of Demacia, guiding the oppressive fog with him. "I've no objections to how ostentatious your own entrance may be. At the very least, a blow must be struck against the guard force of the city. As for where we begin..."
As the city walls drew nearer, Thresh began steadily winding up his scythe in preparation while the fog began to encroach more densely around him.
"...we begin wherever souls may be found. Now, have at them. We have much terror to sow."
Just as the final declaration was made, Thresh's form dispersed into the choking fog itself, taking with it a rattling of chains and a sinister chuckling. The Shadow Isles had arrived. Up upon the high walls of the city, Thresh's first targets were bare for him. The fog had masked his approach effectively, and such humorous tales were being told, of him no less! Were he not focused on his job, he would likely express his gratitude for such flattery.
As it were, the mist encroached upon the walls like the tide coming in, the torches lining the walls beginning to sputter and fail in the encompassing gloom. The faint and distant rattling of chains would reach the ears of the guardsmen in good time, but by then it would be too late. As the the mist reached its thickest, a gaunt shadow stepped forth from the murky depths, one arm raised with the clink-clanking of chains. With a swift whoosh and a resounding sound of tearing armor and flesh, a piercing scream of agony rent the night.
Post by The Deathsinger on Mar 14, 2013 20:43:12 GMT -5
Karthus floated up the bluff, stopping to watch his comrades advance at it's crest. The Deathsinger was appropriately garbed in a midnight-black cloak and wielded a scythe in his right hand, an homage to his patron, Death itself. In his left hand, he carried a softball-sized sphere of white marble, which trapped swirling tendrils of dimly-glowing orange energy within.
He floated silently where the Chain Warden once was, staring over the city of Demacia below. So many deaths were to be had this night... So many souls to be enlightened. So many that would find the true meaning of life in their own death. It would be a glorious night indeed. He would not offer his services yet, as the Ruined King did not order him to act....But Karthus served Death alone, and, should things go badly, he would ensure that Death would be pleased.
Post by Tahlem Starr on Mar 14, 2013 21:45:18 GMT -5
Sergeant Callon began to doze off on the job, the fog getting increasingly darker and thicker. This was not normal at all..there must be a problem or worse..magic. When a scream rang out into the fog, Callon grabbed a lantern and turned in that direction. It was relatively close by.
He gulped, it must be his buddy's playing tricks on him. They have gotten quite realistic with the sounds though. Even those distant chains sounded like they were real. " I-I know its you guys! The jig is up! You can come out now..." He called out into the fog, waiting for an answer. The three lanterns burning brightly around him like a beacon.
" Come on out now!"
Tahlem on the other hand immediately popped out of his seat when he heard a distant scream. Bolting out the door without his lantern, but sword in hand. He ran is way to Sergeant Callon and stopped, pushing both the men behind him. " What was that, sergeant?"
" I-I think its just my friends playing a trick...." Tahlem frowned, he THOUGHT not KNEW. SO he kept his sword out.
" Come out who ever you are. Show yourself."
Last Edit: Mar 15, 2013 0:03:15 GMT -5 by Tahlem Starr
Post by Gillam Dunwall on Mar 14, 2013 22:51:48 GMT -5
Gillam happened to be assigned to the night watch. He was rather distant, not acknowledging the conversation between the General and the Sergeant.
What made him jump, however, was the scream. Gillam stood up, lance in hand. He relaxed a bit when Callon called the others out for screaming, but he was still uneasy. "Alright, do what the sergeant says guys... You can come out now." Gillam called into the mist.
"No matter the era, I am Demacian, through and through."
Post by akumanochi on Mar 14, 2013 22:57:25 GMT -5
It was surely not a normal night, Galio was sure about it. This kind of fog was unusual for the city state of Demacia but it also had something different. It felt like if you went inside without a torch it would tear the flesh from yours bones and for the sentinel's sorrow it was even weirder as he lacked both of them.
"Lets hope this thing goes away before the Dawn" He said to himself while doing his best to look over the city from one of the higher places in the city, the top of the golden blade tower, a beautiful structure near the palace that was built as a present to the ancient king Jarvan lightshield I.
This late in the night only a few of the guards would be awake, so very few people had to deal with this awkward feeling that the mist brought. It was a relief to him but that feeling would easy fall apart in a few seconds.
A scream.
Galio heard a scream filled with terror at the distance, towards one of the walls. He quickly jumped off the tower and let his wings do the job. For someone made of rocks like him something like flying should be impossible and even more to do it at the speed he was traveling right now but his body was a "living" proof that Durand had been a genius. His wings had a gravity system which worked with mana allowing him to float with ease and use magic to move forward. For nights such as this a magical way to fly was a lot more useful than doing it like a common bird.
As he advanced the fog grew even thicker, almost not allowing him to see his own hand but the surprise came when he felt something more in it... magic. Most humans or even him wouldn't be able to notice such a small trace but his runic skin would react even at the smallest presence of mana or magical energy and it was thanks to his body that he could detect the secret behind the fog at that moment.
"There is no time! I need to do this!" Were his quick thoughts as he started to gather mana in his skin.
Galio slowed his speed a bit and focused in accumulating magic as quickly as possible. The sentinel's sorrow noticed it was enough and then suddenly his body released a strong golden light. It still was nothing against the evil cloud that covered Demacia but surely from the wall everyone could see a flashing object flying toward there.
He knew it would help the guards by letting them know that a bit of reinforcements were on their way but Galio true purpose was to protect; and what a better way to do it in a situation like this than trying to gather all the attention of the enemies?
Last Edit: Mar 14, 2013 22:58:12 GMT -5 by akumanochi
Shyvana had been simply sitting in her home, lazily laying about in preparation for sleep. She then sat up and looked out of her window... fog? What was fog doing here... it hardly ever came. The Half-Dragon raised an eyebrow slightly, but thought nothing more of it as she laid down on the couch.
However, the scream that followed, certainly did catch her attention. She then shot up and ran out of the door. The fog had gotten thicker... this was no ordinary fog. Shyvana quickly grabbed her gauntlets and slipped them on before searching the sky, her golden eyes searching the fog before the locked onto a light... narrowing her eyes, ran towards it.
Upon coming closer, Shyvana made out the form of Galio. The gargoyle was absorbing the manna into his skin, thus making the light. Shyvana ran over and stood under him and called out to him. "Galio, what is this?" The Half-Dragon asked, her eyes searching the fog once more.
Post by Marabelle De'Vera Lightshield on Mar 15, 2013 6:29:56 GMT -5
Belle walked the streets of Demacia with a basket hung pleasently from her arm and a soft, blue cloak rested over her frame. She had brought along with her a strange looking bow with no string, and a quiver full of arrows resting against her back. Tonight she opted for less formal wear having intended to surprise Prince Jarvan with something she had baked and possibly ask him to help her with her training a bit.
Teal eyes scanned the edges of Demacia as she made her way along, slowing at the sight of the fog. A faint glow from the jade necklace tore her attention away from it as if it were reacting to something, feeling increasingly ill at ease. The Countess pulled the basket in closer against her form, lifting her free hand to delicately brush wavy locks of hair from her gentle features. A look of worry shown beneath the cloak's shadow, beginning to step forward more quickly in search of one of the guards.
The scream had come like a shattering of glass in complete silence. Her pace froze instantly as her heart raced searching through the thickening fog for someone - anyone who might know what's going on. Was it a trick? Was it real? That inescapable fear rose up as she found herself suddenly lost in the thickening fog.
Post by Lucas Brightshield on Mar 15, 2013 7:18:58 GMT -5
"I hate gate duty..." Lucas had night watch this day, at the east gate, together with 5 more heavily armed guards. He didn't know the guards, he was a Pathfinder after all. "Stupid fog. I can't see shit. Any horse could trample in." Lucas unsheathed his sword. After all, with reduced vision range comes increased alertness. Then the scream came. "What the? Gentlemen.... Better close the gate." Lucas came back from under the gate. Anyone who was going to enter would have to wait. "I'll go check that out." Lucas dolted off after climbing the stairs to the wall.
I am a Pathfinder. I will do what everyone else thinks below him, because someone must do it. Call me dishonorable for it all you want. I serve justice, not honor. And Demacia, ofcourse.
Post by akumanochi on Mar 15, 2013 11:27:22 GMT -5
As he flew towards the wall Galio heard a familiar voice call his name. Right below him was Shyvana, running through the street of the city. The Gargoyle was a bit surprissed at the fact that the half-dragon could keep his pace while going afoot but this surely wasnt the best time to think about things like that.
"I heard a scream towards the wall and after a few seconds of flying I detected traces of magic in the fog. Shyvana, something, or someone, is trying to use the mist in order to attack Demacia."
The sentinel's sorrow was glad, his shining skin did not only allowed him to see better through the night but it also had gathered him with an allied league champion already. Now he at least had a chance to face off whatever was causing this.
"Shyvana, stay close to me!" Yelled Galio as they were getting closer to the wall, most likely the source of the scream he heard before.
Last Edit: Mar 15, 2013 11:27:51 GMT -5 by akumanochi
Prince Jarvan was resting peacefully in his chambers after a long days work. He was snuggled up comfortably in his blankets and was almost asleep when he head a pounding at the doors. He woke up with a start and practically leapt out of his bed. His mood suddenly soured, he didn't like being woken up in such a fashion. The knocking was swift and desperate, almost as if a monster were at the heels of the knocker. "What is it?!" He can't help but put a sharpness in his voice.
"M-m-my Lo-o-o-ord." Jarvan grunted in frustration and took a few long steps to the doors and threw them open. "Well? Spit it out already!"
The guard jumped when the door flew open, his face was pale and ashen. He took a second to compose himself before speaking. "My Lord. There is this... mist. At the walls! There is the sound of chains and screaming and laughter. A man who was right next to me was grabbed and torn apart!" Jarvan inspects the man closer to see bits of red flaked on his chest and face. He gasps as he realizes what is happening.
Thresh.
"Make haste to the walls immediately we are being attacked. I will be there shortly." Before the guard can even respond, the prince slams the door shut and runs to where his armor is hung. He hastily fits it onto himself, fumbling on any clasps. After he is dressed he bolts out of the palace and into the eerie night, making a beeline to the sound of screaming.
As the mist grew ever deeper, ever thicker, a vice of terror closed around the guardsmen. The ghost stories they had been telling almost jokingly had become reality. As more torches were lit in attempt to hold back the fog, a further terror of the night was unveiled: a grim shadow skulked in the mists, visible only for sparse moments before vanishing away amidst the sound of fresh cries of pain. The maddening clattering of chains resounded throughout the fortifications, accompanied by an unholy howling of amusement.
When the Sentinel's Sorrow arrived however, the fog began to recede from the immediate area as the powerful flare of mana surged from its runic hide. Illumination or not though, the champions of Demacia had arrived too late. Upon the walls hung a gristly display: the taken guardsmen were hanging from chains, their bodies mutilated almost beyond recognition. But worst of all were their eyes, filled with an indescribable dread. Whatever had stalked them through the fog had claimed more than just their lives.
All the while, a sinister cackling resounded through the area, heading deeper into the city. All around the walls, the mysterious fog continued to grow thicker, steadily creeping into the city-state itself...
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