Post by Dungeon Master on Jan 11, 2013 7:33:38 GMT -5
An Eternity of Burning Darkness
A light rises over the snow, eerie, unbound by any source. It spreads itself out like a writhing snake through the valley, a shimmering, undulating line of purple.
When it touches the mountains on the eastern and western sides of the gulch, it straightens, stills, springs up into three dimensions. An unearthly voice cuts through the frigid air: "Slagothh myk'rah'ah tishogg'd amaghazht."
The sound can be heard from miles around. Winterbirds fall from the sky, dead before they hit the powdered snow. The mountains tremble.
Post by The Grey Knight on Jan 11, 2013 17:19:33 GMT -5
Something made its way through from the pitch blackness. A lone winged figure glad here and there in armor forced its way through. Pale dead skin was more than exposed. Through his helmet pierced a single glowing red eye that was like a beacon in the night.
With the sound of heavy footsteps crunching against packed snow, he advanced forward into the night and then turned to face the vortex, to gaze upon those that followed. Much to the Knight’s disappointment, voidlings emerged. Four legged insect like beings with a hard-shelled exterior and eyes that glowed yellow in the night, while they came out in mass, they were still small but grew rapidly and erratically. But his excitement grew when at what followed.
Shambling bodies forced their way through the ether. Their bodies stripped of what any sign of identity. Their skin was dried and stretched, mummified. Patches here and there upon their bodies had gain what was best described as a tumorous growth that was slowly spreading over the living cadaver, a dark purple in color.
The last thing pushed its way through the portal slowly, agonizingly as the others began their march. His red eye glowed with ecstasy as a large pale and bloated hand emerged from the portal and grasped deeply into the snow of Freljord. The ground below turned a tainted black, as did the surround snow, spreading like crack lines on glass.[/Size]
“Accusation that silences and deafens.” “Deeds that leave lasting wounds and stain the soul.”
There was suffocation in the turbulent air. A sinister strangulation, an obstruction. A suppression. An impossibility, that one should snarl in the face of constriction against their throat. Yet breaths were harsher still, ever strong. Wheezing through the noose but unable to invoke the warrant of need they so desperately reached out for. Ropes tipped with poisoned thorns - the thorns of humiliation, wrapped tighter around the City-State of Freljord. It forced its inhabitants to inhale through their nose. Through the cloyed air, that was all they could do as the strangled cries of birds and creatures alike echoed through the fog.
From the icy ledge in which Ashe stood, with a scarf dragged up to her mouth, she too could barely breathe. She could see the tendrils of corruption reach across the sky with sharp claws, and saw the frost lakes blotted with blooming flowers of poison. She could hear the very Heaven weep, freezing its tears as they fell freely in quick succession. Like sharpened daggers, they crashed into the snow, penetrating the very belly of Freljord.
Ashe swept her gaze towards the tumultuous sound of something truly terrifying. And her heart wept. For her people, and for her city. Her home. Her mind was left in a strange clutter; embroiled in pains of grace and evanescence, she wondered how it had come to this. Like an unprecedented illness, her vivid blue eyes had gone pale with a emotions many had forgotten she possessed. Doubt and fear. The lucidity of her recollections - the Gelid Vortex, the Noxian campaigns, the marriage, Sejuani - left much to be desired. They disintegrated into a mass of hallucinations, phantasms and delusions of various colors.
She lifted her palms to the sky, catching the razor-sharp ice in her palm and not a single flicker of pain or discomfort crossed her empty countenance. Ashe could hear the mighty tremble of unworldly creatures on the march. She had heard of this day, but for Freljord to taste the first, fresh blades... it was wrong. She looks further, her keen eyes spying blackened dots against the frost, wilting any winter crop that may have grown. Death and destruction would follow. Would the League send help? Perhaps, perhaps not. But Ashe would not rely on them. She gripped her bow, her knuckles turning white.
Freljord was not ready, but for their sake, they must be.
Post by Tekun Valos on Jan 14, 2013 18:43:34 GMT -5
So they had come to the north at last. It was a day Tekun had ever dreaded and feared. Even from here and with his position besides his longtime friend and queen he felt doubt seep in slowly and crawl through him. The poison that was the void was an enemy to be dreaded as was the Knight who heralded this desecration of his homeland. The League had done nothing for the southern lands and it seemed just as likely they would do nothing for the North.
“This distance isn’t safe…” Tekun whispered. If not only to spread his opinion to his Queen but also to remind her that she wasn’t alone here. That there was another sharing her anger and frustrations of what they were baring witness to. But more importantly, if they were caught it would mean fighting the Knight and his hoard. It was a golden rule of the Preservers to never have anyone fight anything the group deemed as an elite class void with less than three of their best. “…We should head back. They bleed, they die. They can be defeated.”
No one was ready; it was why The Preservers were founded. Someone needed to be ready for them, and more often than not they weren’t able to stop the full effects of the storm that was coming in silence.
Ashe's countenance stayed grim, doubt flitting back and forth between crystal blue eyes. She had noted Tekun's presence before his voice had been heard, but still she did not move. She did not flinch and she did not waver. The ledge beneath her feet vibrated, shaking with the march of corrupt soldiers. The roar of an Ursine could be heard over the mountain ranges, and she could see the larger animals flee for their lives. Tekun was right. They were approaching slowly but steadily, and it was not safe. She rolled her bowstring between her fingers, grinding the edge into her finger.
"We are no longer safe." Ashe corrected, and though expression trembled between doubt and impassivity, her tone remained resolute. "The Void has come for us. You've seen the destruction they've wrought, and they will not stop until they have slaughtered us all."
So this is what Tekun had been talking about. She had heard of the stories, though she was never actually there. The darkness that spread, and the terrors that lurked in the seas, on the land and in the skies. Their figures blotted the very sun and tore the clouds asunder. Rain that spilled mingled with the never ending flows of blood, both red and black - from both man and beast. Human and Void. She pondered this. Freljord would certainly not fall without a fight. She had worked, given everything to offer her home a chance for peace. Ashe would give everything to protect it now, even against an enemy she did not even understand.
The Frost Archer pivoted on her heel, her lips set in a determined line. "So can we." There was no perfuming her words. Tekun knew that. He would see through her lies. Ashe would have to make a speech about courage and bravery. About how Freljord would not give in to these terrible creatures. That they would fight until the very last man. That even if they did not give their life for their city, then she would. She who had given her service to the Institute from its very founding, and had been doing so for a long time. Despite the Institute's silence on Freljord's plight, Ashe had not given up hope that some day, they would be heard.
She shook her head, walking towards Tekun. The blizzard did not phase her, her eyes peering through the veil of snow as she clasped the male on the shoulder. "But we will watch them burn before I let Freljord fall to its knees. You know them - a familiar enemy. We must get back to Rakelstake and make our preparations." Ashe lifted her hand away and began to move through the powdered white quickly. "I do not know how and I do not know when. But if they attack, we must be ready. Tryndamere has gone to Icathia with the Cryophoenix, so we will have to hold the lines without him."
Ashe looked back, hesitation now, plain on her face. She shook her head, turning her gaze away from Tekun and forward. To the present. "I am glad you are with me."
Post by Tekun Valos on Jan 16, 2013 8:09:00 GMT -5
Tekun followed her, keeping to the side of the white haired woman as they retreated from their position with haste.
“…I’ll send word to the Preservers in Shurima. We’ll have reinforcements, people who know how to fight them.”
Tekun would not have a repeat of what had happened with the settlements in Shurima, not here. Not in the north. It had been too late for some of them in the desert where the fight had begun but here there was time. “The lines will be held. “Freljord will prevail. They won’t win, I won’t let them win just like we haven’t allowed them to win in Shurima. These lines will be held.”
Tekun’s face held no hesitation; the war against the void had become that much more personal for him. Anger was swelling silently in his heart and soon would boil and steam out into the open in these coming days.
“You know I wouldn’t want it any other way. I’ll support you so long as I draw breath.”
A second portal shimmered, being opened from somewhere other than the Void. Out stepped Cho'gath and any other creatures which followed. This place would be that start...it would be consumed under the power of the Void. They woudl herald the destruction of Runeterra.
Cho'gath took delight in the sight of the masses from the void, this day could not come soon enough. He seeked out the Grey Knight, they told him he led this assault. His presence would be instrumental in breaking the line of the foolish humans. He would feast and grow...
" Knighhttt...i have come from Icathia to enforce you. The humans of this place will put up a great fight, the Preservers will come soon enough."
(Will edit later to make more sense)
Last Edit: Jan 23, 2013 19:21:21 GMT -5 by heimerdinger
"I leave the matter in your hands." Ashe responded quickly, continuing her face pace down the mountain's icy slope. "You've fought them before. I'm afraid that I will be of little use to your experienced warriors." She had heard little of these Preservers, and knew even less about their skills. But if they were able to force the Void away before, then they could do it again... or so she hoped. Ashe knew that she should reach out to the League for assistance, as per agreement - but she had a feeling that they would simply turn a blind eye.
"Perhaps they have learned," she responded, though her voice was soft. The cold wind had frosted the very air she breathed into, the very air in her throat. Still she spoke, to herself now. "Who is to say history will always repeat itself." Freljord was trembling; she could feel it through the ground she stepped upon, as if it was on the brink of collapse. She wondered what Sejuani's plan of action would be, if she would take this as a sign to begin the battles and wars she so desperately wanted.
But she smiled regardless. Because Freljord needed a leader to protect them. "Then let us hope your breath will be everlasting." The smile vanished however, and she cleared her throat. "We will have to let the others know. Anivia and Tryndamere are both at Icathia, but the Ursine should be alerted, as the yetis should as well. I've sent my hawk back to the Palace, though they are probably already aware of the Void's march. Soldiers will have to be prepared... and you my friend, must alert your friends as soon as you can. I do not know how much time we have."
Post by The Grey Knight on Jan 20, 2013 2:57:06 GMT -5
What resembled a laugh emerged from beneath its helmet as he looked towards the first of the Void to have stepped foot upon Runeterra.
“It is only fitting that the first they saw of our coming aid in our first steps of conquest in the frozen waste. I know of those fools who dare oppose us and I know what they are capable of. However, they only delay the inevitable.”
His helmet twisted to the form which was forcing its way through the portal.
A large human like face, though eyeless and nose-less, emerged soon after the sickening hand had. Its face was contorted into that of a twisted expression of pain, frozen in place. Its maw held wide by two clawed hands protruding out of its shoulders. Their position seemed to be fixated there, stuck as if rigamortus had taken place. It let out an utterly inhumane shriek that seemed to echo forever across the Freljordian tundra and convulsed violently as its body was dragged out. Its body was long, still forcing its way out through the use of two oversized slender limbs that connected much further down its body.
As it twisted and wormed its way out, it became apparent that three sets of spider like legs protruded from its backside. They were massive and thick, easily large enough to crush a man beneath its feet. It didn’t take long for the full view of the abomination came into view.
Its body was a length of at least 40 feet and the beast itself was at least 10 feet in width. Its long worm like form was pale and bloated like a waterlogged corpse and from a distance looked like it had been formed from that of human like parts, stitched fused together. Small slender arms reached out here and there from the creature, writhing, as if to grasp something other than the cold air around it. The corruption beneath the beast spread yet, unyielding.
“The nearest settlement belongs to the Winter Claw tribe, we shall begin there. To the Northwest. Eat to your heart’s content.”[/Size]
“Accusation that silences and deafens.” “Deeds that leave lasting wounds and stain the soul.”
Post by Dungeon Master on Jan 20, 2013 4:36:29 GMT -5
Northwest:
The corruption crept across the land: a screeching horde of voidlings, followed by the shambling bodies of mortals who'd ventured too far out of their own realms, now dark and twisted, advancing with one purpose. To destroy.
Where foul feet touched down, blackness spread out like gushes of ink over the snow. The disembodied voice thundered over the field, shaking the town that lay in the approaching legion's path, "Syah'h fm'latgh n'gfht." The mountains trembled. Those who lay sleeping would wake, numb with dread before they even sat up, before they even parted their curtains or rushed outside--desperately, futilely taking up arms. It encroached. The mountains trembled. The very earth seemed to writhe in agony.
The swarm of voidlings moved quickly, a purple blur over the blackening slush. They reached the town before the shambling corpse-forms.
A Freljordian warrior waited at the gates, the furs of his armor bristling against the foul wind. Beside his fellows, he bared his sword, gritted his teeth against the screeching droves. He prepared to die for his village--and die he would.
The first wave of otherworldly insects launched themselves upon the warriors, no fear of steel, only the burning desire to feed. The warrior was thrown backwards by the impact of the creature, which clung to his neck with its hind legs, sunk its scythe-like arms into his head and fell upon his face, devouring flesh so swiftly that--though his skull was exposed--he still had time to scream.
The cries of Freljord rang out in the night. And the booming voice repeated, "Syah'h fm'latgh n'gfht..."
Post by darkassasin on Jan 20, 2013 15:14:40 GMT -5
Of all the dark monsters that swept the snowy land, a familiar creature joined the charge, the voidreaver sprinted across the plains. It has been so long since he had been among his own kind, there scent was, different, almost alien to his nose. It was no matter, he would get used to them soon enough, anyway there is a feast waiting to be carved by his claws.
As the first wave collided with the gate Kha'Zix had diverted to the side, using the guards displaced attention against them he would reach the walls undetected, his carapace snowy white he blended in perfectly, appearing like some snow blown up with the winds. In moments he was upon the walls, wings outstretched he swiped out, his left claw slicing cleanly through an archers neck, decapitating the man before he could even react. With right arm he slammed it heavily against the headless corpse in an opposite direction, causing it fall over the wall down the cold grown, were undoubtedly his body will be devoured.
A cry of of fear, another archer stood behind the first, trying to reach for a knife from his sheath, his bow laying discarded on the ground. 'Too slow.' the Reaver thought before bringing both claws round, embedding themselves deep with his sides. The human screamed in pain, his hands trying in vain to push Kha'Zix's arms away. Wrapping them around his waist he pulled the wounded man to him sharply, at the same time he leapt up, releasing his claws he gripped the man's lower chest with his talons, forcing him to the ground, he hovered for a second listening to the screams of the dying, and fearful. The archer beneath him screamed for help, twisting and turning, trying to pull himself away from Kha'Zix's grip. With that Kha'Zix bent down closer to his helpless prey. "Your fear will feed the void." the archer screamed once more pleading for help that would not come. Tearing his flesh the Reaver would begin to feast on his still beating heart, breaking bones if need be.
'So much to hunt! I may need to evolve a bigger stomach!'
Post by The Voidwalker on Jan 24, 2013 11:54:09 GMT -5
The air atop a high ledge of one of the frozen mountains seemed to become heavy, almost constricting; before what appeared to be a flash of purple light (that could be seen by anything in the vecinity) tore reality apart, creating a rift into, apparently, the Void. The Voidwalker strode out of said rift, netherblade unsheathed and fists clenched. I say "apparently" because the whole process was almost instantaneous. Kassadin couldn't afford to have a portal to the Void open for more than a split second. He was not the only creature capable of traversing these portals, and feared the day one of the horrors of the Void managed to follow him through the gates.
Such a terror now roamed the frozen wastes of Frejlord. Kassadin's glowing eyes examined the creature. There was a time in which he would have been disgusted by such a sight - horrified, even - but that was long ago, and this fiendish monstrosity was nothing compared to the nightmares Kassadin had witnessed during his life as the Voidwalker.
Kassadin's mask turned to the northwest, where a small village caught his attention. Said village was being razed by legions of voidlings. Amidst the carnage, Kassadin discerned none other than Kha'Zix, who seemed to be sating his hunger almost ecstatically. Nothing can be done for them now. His voice boomed with an alien force that made it linger in the air. Whether this was the work of Kassadin's mask or his actual voice is a mistery, however. The other villages can be saved - but we have to act fast. Kassadin's gaze turned towards the city of Rakelstake. He took a step towards the town and then, in another purple flash, he was gone.
Last Edit: Jan 24, 2013 15:17:36 GMT -5 by The Voidwalker
Post by darkassasin on Jan 26, 2013 21:24:45 GMT -5
The slaughter would soon be over, the defences were overrun within moments, the guards and soldiers cut down with unrelenting ferocity, their corpses picked over by the otherworldly creatures. Crimson and violet blood stained the once clean snow. The few monsters that were slain by the doomed defences seemed to dissolve away, being reabsorbed into the void. But the others continued forth, driven by their ever burning hunger.
Those who remained in there homes were not spared as the creatures flooded the village the terrified screams of the innocent rung out through the frozen wastes, only to followed by the sounds of their brutal death. The last being a young women, running from the horrors that had consumed everything she had known, her feet crushing clean snow on the other side of the village as she tried to make her escape. Stopping suddenly she gasped for air, he hands slowly making their way to her stomach. The feel of a cold shell sent an unbearable pain through her nerves but she couldn't scream, opening her mouth to only cough blood she stoop staring into a blurry horizon, darkness consuming her vision. "You will never know what even ate you." the voice was harsh, cold as her own muscles.
As Kha'Zix stood their, claw embedded in a woman's spine a smile grew on his face, this would only be the first of many victories for the void, Kha'Zix was sure of it. Tearing out the claw he let the women fall limply on the floor her blood spraying from her open wound. 'I think I will savour this one, give time for the others to, catch up.' With that the Voidreaver bent low claws ready to carve his latest meal.
The void had tasted human flesh and craved more, with nothing but the urge to feast they moved on from the now ghost town. Though many of the buildings still stood the void had left its mark like a storm. Littering the streets with the possessions of the once living inhabitants. Like a swarm of insects they headed into the snowfall, soon all another village will suffer the same horrific fate.
Edit: Changed where the void were going to slow down the pace.
Last Edit: Jan 27, 2013 5:46:54 GMT -5 by heimerdinger
Post by The Winter's Wrath on Jan 26, 2013 21:42:46 GMT -5
It didn't take long for The Winter’s Wrath to find out about the new tragedy that was beginning to plague her region of the northern lands. After receiving this troubling news from her scouts, she left to think the matter over within her own chamber. Her hand clenched bitterly into a fist and face twisted with disgust and hate once she obtained her much desired privacy. One village had fallen in its’ entirely and as far as she knew there had been no survivors. It was awful enough that every day was a fight for survival and their enemies were constantly looking for ways to drive them further away into a more inhospitable and hostile location. But now those awful beast were making a move, but more importantly, they started by killed HER people.
Judging by the news, they had come in mass and while she was confident those among their current numbers could possibly hold she knew they could not hold forever. There was no dread that clenched her heart, no fear that overcame here. But instead her blood boiled and she felt a hatred that surpassed her disdain towards The Frost Archer. She would do whatever it would take to see her people survive these monstrosities.
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