Post by The Eye of Twilight on Dec 3, 2013 1:04:46 GMT -5
(Really just here to serve as an introduction due to Karthus' specific circumstances. NOTE: The Game hasn't started yet...Don't think you can even if you want to... And Yes, Karthus will post something...))
Post by The Deathsinger on Dec 3, 2013 1:20:49 GMT -5
Death is the one constant in this universe. No mortal can escape it's grasp - even the very world changes, grows, and dies, only to be reborn anew. However, the race of man has always tried to upset this constant, using both might and magic to cheat death and boast of their invincibility. Thus, a reaper is needed - one who can cut down the chaff which has outstayed it's welcome on this world. Karthus, the Deathsinger, is such a reaper.
All men who boast of immortality meet their end sooner than they think. However, there are some who think they can actually follow up with such claims. In particular, a certain assassin seems to believe that he is master over death, diving headlong into suicide missions and coming out unscathed, fending off any and all who challenge him. He boasts to all that he is unkillable, and that death bows to him. This man will soon find that death is not forgiving of such blasphemy.
((If you could set up the scene, then I will take it from there.))
Post by The Eye of Twilight on Dec 3, 2013 1:53:30 GMT -5
((Great, now I have to create a Rank 1))
Vigeant Lanpier resides within his Hall of Endless Corridors, or so as he prefers to call it due to his self-inflicted narcissistic personality.
Those who would be granted entry are shown a grandiose palace, the side walls adorned by the lances of the medieval ages and a circular pool behind him, behind his throne, sprouting nitrogen liquid in continuous burst of quantity. His throne is carved out of the many weapons which his higher ranking competitors have attempted to utilize to their advantage, to no avail as they fall one by one before the challenger himself.
A smirk crawled up upon his face covered by the Venetian mask that he wears upon his face, the smirk gradually started to widen, with the outlet of his croaked voice amongst the empty hall and corridors, accompanied only by the sound of the flowing freeze.
"To breach the rules of tranquility and death... Finally, a world is presented in front of me. with the resources now at my disposal even the Valley of the Shadow of Death will become none. Well done me." Vigeant gives himself a pat on the back for climbing to where he is. His voice would only get louder as he himself grew incapable of containing his overwhelming ego. "This is my story, I am the protagonist and life and death will shackle me not!"
His laughter echoes once more through the corridors, the dark metallic chains wrapped around his leather suit, the silver shoulder-guards shine in the bright glowing room and his cape of ebony blue flows with the current that flows within his chamber.
Post by The Deathsinger on Dec 3, 2013 2:16:38 GMT -5
A cloud of shadows formed amongst such splendor, a blot of ink upon otherwise pristine parchment. The stain upon reality grew until a spectral form floated out of the tear: A man, clearly undead, clad in robes of black and red and wielding a glaive-like warscythe. The creature brazenly approached the throne before it spoke in a deep, raspy baritone:
"Vigeant Lanpier. You claim to have tossed off the shackles of death, yet you still reek of your mortality. Your petulant boasts have annoyed Death for long enough. None can escape their death...And yours has just caught up with you. I am Karthus, Deathsinger - and your death will be by my hand."
At this, the orb set atop Karthus' warscythe crackled with dark magic as wisps of shadowy energy coalesced within his free hand, which he then thrust toward the pompus knight, sending several bolts of dark energy screaming toward him. If he was not fast enough to dodge the attack- or if he did not have any protection from magical attacks - then Vigeant would be impacted by several bolts of necromantic power, the dark magic within each individual bolt strong enough to severely wound most mere mortals. Karthus would normally not be nearly so willing to use such magics against one who is merely boastful, but this heretic was quickly growing on what remained of Karthus' nerves - and he had hardly even begun to listen to Vigeant's boasting.
Post by The Eye of Twilight on Dec 3, 2013 6:08:43 GMT -5
The knight is caught complete off guard by this approach,through he had not a single string of clue as to how this black shrouded figure managed to access his humble abode, his combat instinct would react in his place instead. He reached for his lance hilt gently perched above the top of his silver belt.
This spontaneous reaction was evidently not enough to counter the speed of the statical malice that rummages through the room piercing through his entity. As his lance comes to shape, buzzing with it's own eccentric energy, The man's metallic chains falls to the elaborate pavement as blood begins to spill. Vigeant rests his weight above the lance and would draw his breath in quick consecutive successions.
"How humiliating... To be greeted by Death like a mere mortal..." The Extravagant Lancer muttered under his breath, the voice croaked as usual. The blood flows past the forehead, through the mask of vanity and drips onto the floor. Followed by more droplets, the crimson rain started to pour. The corpse grows limp and plummets to the floor, in individually dissected pieces. His hilt's energy flickers and bends, and follows suit with it's master shortly afterward.
Post by The Deathsinger on Dec 3, 2013 15:20:50 GMT -5
Karthus lowered his hand, satisfied with the end result. So much for your immortality. He floated over to the now-deceased Vigeant, kneeling down to make sure that his soul had moved on from his body. Sure, he clung to whatever life remained within him, but there was not very much to hang on to, and Vigeant passed beyond Death's Door without a great deal of fuss. Karthus left the corpse upon it's superfluous pedestal, leaving it to be discovered by whatever loved ones or admirers the man had left. Karthus' task here was done.
As the undying lich faded once more into the black mist, a secretary who had observed the entire event made some scribblings upon her notepad. The undead creature had not only breached UAA policy by heading straight for the #1 assassin, but also actually managed to kill him in a single blow. Needless to say, the UAA would not be pleased....But perhaps they could use something like this.
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