Post by Tahlem Starr on Mar 19, 2013 15:36:48 GMT -5
Tahlem watched Shyvana switch forms and almost went to help, though, it would be hard to dodge flames. When he was told to find somewhere safe, he placed a hand on her snout. " I will be at the main wall...holding the line. Kill well, dear." And with that he quickly ran after the scout, leaving the two dragons to kill off the approaching undead.
Once he made it to the wall he flagged down Quinn, thinking it better to stick with another. " Quinn! General Tahlem" He stated quickly, moving to her side. " Pleasantries out the window, we need to hold this wall. Where did these undead come from? I need to rally the defenders here, we are all scattered." He examined the dead one and frowned. It looked..quite different than the ones further in the city.
" And what do they do? Does valor know the situation?" He asked frantically, they needed to get the situation under control.
Last Edit: Mar 19, 2013 15:40:00 GMT -5 by Tahlem Starr
Post by Gillam Dunwall on Mar 19, 2013 22:05:20 GMT -5
"I apologize, Ambassador. Let us hold the line together!" Gillam turned and gestured to his comrades. "Come, defend your city! Defend your freedom! DEFEND YOUR LIFE! FOR DEMACIA!" With that, Gillam charged into a horde of undead, downing the first few with his buckler. He had never felt this much adrenaline since the Third Rune War
"No matter the era, I am Demacian, through and through."
Valerian tucked behind a low wall on the roof as he flipped a few dials on his bow. The bow's mechanisms whirred as the weapon slowly lowered the tension in the string. Given the numbers of undead coming, Valerian needed to put out alot of arrows.
"Uh... looks like alot of undead are coming our way...!" He observed as he stood up again, his bow nearly done. He wouldn't be aware that his presence was now the focus of Karthus's order...
Last Edit: Mar 19, 2013 22:20:07 GMT -5 by Valeria
Pain... Screaming pain enveloping him in darkness... What was this? What was he?
His mind is re-awoken, he is blind and all he knows is pain. It tears at his soul like hooks, ripping and shredding as if trying desperately to pull him back to the afterlife... The lich's magics were to strong for it to resist... Flesh begins to form, agony tearing through the mind once more... The more the flesh regenerates, the more pain is ripping into the innocent mind. Should this continue, it would be impossible to tell how long it takes until the mind breaks. Then his organs, his lungs inhale desperately... They don't work well however.. muscle and grey skin now weaving around the bones stitching itself together from nothing... His vocal cords are then reformed...
Six feet above him lay a single head stone, flowers lay across it showing someone did still care for who ever lay beneath the soil. Demacia, shrouded in a dark mist lay in the distance, cries of agony and screams of horror echoed from the place creating a symphony of pain. Another voice rises from beneath the soil, adding its own cries to the music of death.
A hand breaks through the soil gripping and pulling it away around itself, another rotten grey hand emerges, the fingers on both hands now raw and torn from the desperate dig upwards, the once dead boy crawls out from the grave... His the first thing one would notice would be the eyes... They were not entirely formed correctly, one looking half deflated with a mixture of pus and dirt running down the cheek and mixing with the exposed flesh of his cheek, his other looked to be on fire, cyan spirit fire enveloping his vision distorting all that he saw...
The boy does notice the grave however, his one eye capable of seeing reads the name, his name. Caleb.... A memory burns into his mind, someone close to him, a female... Quinn... Was she responsible for this? Pain rakes through his broken mind once more, increadible pain, enough to finally break the mind entirely... He looks to the city and lets out an inhuman groan of pain, that is where he must go...
Compelled to go, the boy makes his way to the fog enveloped city the womans name burning in his mind, Quinn... Quinn... Quinn... Quinn... He finally makes his way to a gate, it was broken... Living humans fleeing... One stops before him and stares, a horrific scream peicing his ears, he roars back his hand gripping the womans throat to silence her, he squeezes hard, the screaming dying away into gurgled chokes and convultions... He continues squeezing, "Quinn...?" The woman violently tries shaking her head, a sickening crack sounding from within her neck silences and stops her from moving... Satisfied, the boy continues moving... Until he hears the crying...
-------------------
The woman outside had screamed at the sight of looked to be once a boy, the skin on his face was broken exposing both flesh and bone mixed with dirt, his ruffled brown hair hung, his jaw missing flesh in the cheeks. He looked to be dressed in traditional funeral attire... The hand had shot out like an arrow and gripped her throat like a vice. He was far stronger than anyone his size should be, she cries, tear streaming down her face. "Quinn..." His voice his broken, barely a whisper. She hakes her head desperatly, perhaps when he realises who she wasn't this Quinn he would allow her to be free. She was wrong. He squeezes tighter, her lungs burning as she struggles for breath as the cold hand chokes the life from her.
Then an odd clicking crack, suddenly all the pain leaves her body... She wasn't dead as she hits the ground, she can move her eyes, the look to where her children were hiding, they had seen the whole thing. A creature moves towards the hidding place, it heard the crying of the children as they saw their mother drop. NO! She had to save them! No, her children!!! This was a fat worse than death, she was to watch her own children die...
The first to go was her son, hoisted off the ground by his arm, the creature sniffed him... A wet sickening crack as claws decapitated the child... She wished it had been quick, but the claws had gotten stuck on the childs spine, sharp jagged movements from the creature's claws as it sawed through the bone caused the face to twist in agony before finally being severed from the body.
Then was her daughter, the creature agrivated by slow death of the child moves toward the daughter, only 8 years old... A claw smashes into the chest and obliterates the ribcage, pumpling the small heart in one quick thrust.
The mother lay there, slowly suffocating, unable to look away from the corpses of her children until death finally relieved her of the horrible vision she had just seen.
------------------
Caleb looks towards the city gate... And walks through, the only thought burning in his mind, Quinn... Quinn... Quinn...
Tahlem watched Shyvana switch forms and almost went to help, though, it would be hard to dodge flames. When he was told to find somewhere safe, he placed a hand on her snout. " I will be at the main wall...holding the line. Kill well, dear." And with that he quickly ran after the scout, leaving the two dragons to kill off the approaching undead.
Once he made it to the wall he flagged down Quinn, thinking it better to stick with another. " Quinn! General Tahlem" He stated quickly, moving to her side. " Pleasantries out the window, we need to hold this wall. Where did these undead come from? I need to rally the defenders here, we are all scattered." He examined the dead one and frowned. It looked..quite different than the ones further in the city.
" And what do they do? Does valor know the situation?" He asked frantically, they needed to get the situation under control.
"Ah..." Quinn inhaled sharply as another projectile flew from her weapon, taking down yet another body as a man approached her quickly. He introduced himself just as frantically, and she merely nodded. "Understood, General." She had heard about him, but she had never talked with him before. Still, he was her superior but she supposed now was not the time to ask what the situation was. It was clear to the both of them. "There is a forbidden magic at work beyond the gates," the ranger replied simply. "Valor... has seen something on the coast. Ships wreathed in blue flame sailing the edge." She tensed as a sudden chill washed over her. "There are more to come."
There was something wrong. Something more than the pits of Hell overtaking Demacia, and she could feel it approaching with every deathly step. Quinn knew Valor felt it too as he shifted himself nervously. "I apologize, General Tahlem. There is... something I must see to." She bowed swiftly but politely before turning. The dead behind her littered her path, and it was only then did she realize how many there were. Those who were dead long before this day, and many more who would be buried. She heard a faint scream, barely audible through the rest of the chaotic shrieks coming from Demacia's streets. Her instinct had never let her down, and there something painful twisting inside her stomach.
What she saw then, shadowing the now empty cobblestones, was a figure sent from the very Devil himself. Quinn felt her entire body stop, her eyes widening as her pupils dilated against the sight. She could hear every beat of her heart, slow and terrible. The sight, the monster, with its claws drenched in blood and flesh. But the face itself was so familiar, yet the childish innocence had long since been eroded by time. Her frame began to tremble slightly and Val, who had otherwise remained silent up until this moment, pushed off into the sky. It was her, and the body wearing her brother's features. But Quinn managed to remain on her feet despite herself. The sorrow she had felt all those years back was beginning to resurface, and she was frantically trying to suppress them. This wasn't Caleb. It couldn't be.
"You aren't him," she said softly. He had died, back in the woods. She knew this, remembered the day like a lucid dream. She remembered watching as they lowered his body down into the ground, watched as they covered him with soil and grass. She remembered hugging the engraved knife he had been given for his birthday close to her chest, almost cutting herself. She remembered not caring. As the torrent of memories continued, Quinn was so very convinced that this was a cheap trick, that it wasn't Caleb, even if the youth of the corrupted face still shone clearly through the tears and jagged tips. Even if the clothes, however dirty and torn, was still the last thing she had seen him in.
She pointed her weapon at the monster. "You aren't him."
Caleb looks upon the woman pointing the strange weapon at him. Its on good eye stares at her, the deflated pus filled eye twitches in its socket sending another stream of clear yellow pus down his cheek. His jaw opens, a raspy broken whisper escapes from his partially decayed throat, "Quinn... You..." He takes a step towards her, its claws moving ever so slightly, "You... Left me..." Its breathing was now increadibly strained, the damaged lungs straining to pump air where it wasn't needed. "We... Were... to be... Knights..." He takes another step, blood drips from his claws, his eye continues to stare at Quinn, "Your... fault..." He lets out an agonised moan, pain continued to rake through his body as he moved another step. Confusion flickers across his face, the memory of his death broken, fragmented the full memory just out of his grasp. What he remembered was the wilderness, Quinn and her escape. A blood soaked blade... "...Quinn..."
Tahlem watched Shyvana switch forms and almost went to help, though, it would be hard to dodge flames. When he was told to find somewhere safe, he placed a hand on her snout. " I will be at the main wall...holding the line. Kill well, dear." And with that he quickly ran after the scout, leaving the two dragons to kill off the approaching undead.
Once he made it to the wall he flagged down Quinn, thinking it better to stick with another. " Quinn! General Tahlem" He stated quickly, moving to her side. " Pleasantries out the window, we need to hold this wall. Where did these undead come from? I need to rally the defenders here, we are all scattered." He examined the dead one and frowned. It looked..quite different than the ones further in the city.
" And what do they do? Does valor know the situation?" He asked frantically, they needed to get the situation under control.
As Quinn vanished to complete her errand, Tahlem would hear a shout that made most barbarian raid survivors piss themselves. A barbarian's blood howl. Victus was cleaving through a half dozen of the walking dead, using his blade to crush more than to cut.
"BACK INTO THE DIRT, SHADOW SPAWN!"
He was steadily falling back....to the wall Tahlem was trying to hold. The fog and shadows had gotten Victus all sorts of lost. He ducked behind the wall and then nearly cleaved off Tahlem's head, narrowly stopping the swing upon noting the lack of decomp and stench.
Caleb looks upon the woman pointing the strange weapon at him. Its on good eye stares at her, the deflated pus filled eye twitches in its socket sending another stream of clear yellow pus down his cheek. His jaw opens, a raspy broken whisper escapes from his partially decayed throat, "Quinn... You..." He takes a step towards her, its claws moving ever so slightly, "You... Left me..." Its breathing was now increadibly strained, the damaged lungs straining to pump air where it wasn't needed. "We... Were... to be... Knights..." He takes another step, blood drips from his claws, his eye continues to stare at Quinn, "Your... fault..." He lets out an agonised moan, pain continued to rake through his body as he moved another step. Confusion flickers across his face, the memory of his death broken, fragmented the full memory just out of his grasp. What he remembered was the wilderness, Quinn and her escape. A blood soaked blade... "...Quinn..."
Quinn felt her jaw twitch and a recoil as the monster began to bleed something nasty from what appeared to be every orifice visible. Her weapon shook, the metal scratching at her padded wrist as she shuddered at the voice. It was broken; the sound of liquid gurgling with the faint scratch of wind against an exposed throat. But it was soft, so unlike the loud growls and screams that seemed so far away now. It spoke with words so familiar to her, using sentences that was as broken as its body but still heavy with a figment of truth. But they were lies, and Quinn knew this. So why didn't she pull the trigger? Her heart ached, her body was heavy and it was suddenly much too cold.
The talons twitched but it appeared the ranger hadn't even noticed it. Her eyes, brimming with anguish and clenched resolution, were glued onto the uncanny features. Despite the small burst of bravery she had shown earlier, even Quinn was beginning to doubt. Was the magic so powerful that it could even conjur the very memories of a loved one to create the ultimate illusion? Surely that was better to believe than the true reality that her brother had risen from his grave - not as one of Demacia, but as one of them. Another shiver jolted through her stiff body as he took a few steps forward, the words gurgling from his rotten lips.
She couldn't stop herself. "It wasn't my fault," she responded, her fingers curling, almost as if to cage her sanity. "Ca--" Quinn choked, her heart constricting but still she did not look away. "It's not..." She was at a loss for words, and somehow, she wanted to laugh at this horrible irony. She always had so much to say when she sat in front of Caleb's grave, talking about her day as she picked at the grass before reminiscing about the past. It was easy. Yet, here he was... animated by a dark spell, groaning as if in terrible pain. It was a pain she could almost imagine; the pain of death.
But he was nearing her, and her weapon remained unfired. "Don't make me do this," Quinn whispered, but it was more to herself, or to any higher being who may or may not have existed. She could face her brother, for he was no longer himself, but she could not bring herself to take him down and the questions continued to torment her brain. Was it her fault? How does he remember her?
Caleb's twisted muscles tense and shudder as he watches her, the anguish of seeing him clear on her face. Thick black bile seeps out of the corners of his mouth as he opens his mouth to continue speaking, the black filth spills out over his chin splattering to the ground, he lets out another gurgled groan of pain.
Recovering within moments Caleb tilts his head to the side, the bones in his neck clicking loudly, "You... Left me... Why?" He takes another step, now only several meters away from her, the stench of the black bile and decay was almost suffocating, "Sister.... Sister, Quinn.... Abandoned... Alone... In death..." He holds his arms out as if to embrace her, "I miss... Warmth... Sister..."
Though it was almost impossible to tell, it was infact his mind and soul that had been forced back into his body, both now broken through the agony of being ressurected in such a manner, the twisted flesh and broken skin only adding physical pain to the mental.
Post by Demacia's Wings on Mar 20, 2013 5:01:04 GMT -5
Almost as if the gunk should spray, Quinn took a step back as the boy began to dribble. She half expected the thick liquid to be acidic, to burn a hole onto the cement just as his very presence tortured her resolute soul. A soft cough reverbrates through her as she tries not to speak, to say something she may regret. Her nose wrinkled subconciously at the smell that was beginning to waft her direction. It was only when he began to speak once more did she feel the chill creep up her spine once more.
Her answer faltered briefly. "I didn't..." She didn't know why she was entertaining a conversation with someone who was long dead. Quinn did not believe her brother alive and well, but a figment of her nightmare. "I didn't leave." She gritted her teeth, almost feeling the bones in her arm shake as she shivered violently. Still, her fears were only visible through her eyes and motion. She did not break down and cry, nor did she plead for life. But the contorted face as it turned, the undeniable horror in his decayed expression was burned into the back of her eyes. She could not look away.
It was terrible. Quinn half wished Caleb would bare his fangs and jump at her, to tear with his claws and teeth and shriek like a cursed monster. Then she would have no choice. She bit her lip, unwilling to speak. She could hear Valor's distant cries, but it was as if her boots had been locked to the very ground itself. She willed herself to move, but she was unable to. "Stay back," she breathed, flicking an arrow into her weapon almost threateningly. But her finger was not on the trigger. "You're... you're dead. You can't..."
Her hand dropped, and it was finally then would one hear a single strand snap in her mind and her voice rose a single pitch higher. "You're dead!" What semblance of calm had shattered, and Quinn shook her head, "I saw you die! I felt the cold when Death claimed you!" She bit her lip so hard it almost bled, "The dead can want - or miss - nothing." It was pain, and the pain was spreading; blooming like a poison from her heart. "... you left me alone."
Deep in the grand hall of House Lightshield; Xin Zhao, the Seneschal of Demacia resides, standing guard over King Jarvan III. It was his duty to keep the King safe, but the noise from the city has caught his attention. Perhaps this called for some investigation...?
"My liege... the noise coming from the city is bothering me very much. Even the Prince has left to check, but he has not come back yet. I will be back momentarily, I must investigate this."
Bowing humbly before his king, he exits the gates of the house, his spear pointed forward to battle. __________________________________________________________________________
He arrives at the battlefield in due time, only to find that the horror that awaits him is many Demacian soldiers, scattered all around, dead. Some were fighting undead, others were fending for themselves frantically. He marches over to the gates, taking out a few of the undead on his way. He sees Shyvana in her dragon form, and tries to avoid her rampage.
"Wh-...what is the meaning of this? I demand an explanation!
Post by The Iron Ambassador on Mar 20, 2013 6:27:11 GMT -5
Seeing Gillam rush into combat, Poppy shakes her head. Too reckless of a charge, that would not end well. She quickly dispatches the last undead near her with a blow to the head that leaves almost no trace of the head on the ground.
Then she turns around and heads over to Gillam, bringing Whomper around in a powerful two-handed swing to the midsection of one of the undead right behind Gillam, smashing through the rotten flesh and hollow bones left there and essentially cutting the corpse in half.
"I know Demacians fight to their last breath, but it is better if you do not attack recklessly enough to cause that last breath to come sooner mister Dunwall. Even I wouldn't charge into the middle of an undead horde like that, and I am able to make myself untouchable by everyone of them except one."
Valerian remained on the rooftop, still oblivious to the movements of the undead- that is, slowly converging on him, the horde tasked by Karthus to snuff the life from this bringer of hope.
The archer's attention was on the present, covering the champions and his employer below. "So what's the plan?! What are these things after? And shouldn't we go and support the Prince?"
With the bow now at low tension, two arrows from Valerians' bow were fired off quickly. The arrows seemed to have little effect at first, but a moment later a grenade-strength explosion blasted through the ranks of the dead, again giving Gillian and Poppy breathing space and time to respond to his query.
((I have a small request. Could you please type in normal sized text? The tiny text Quinn and Xin are using is rather difficult to read. Especially when you use colors other than black. Thank you ))
((I have a small request. Could you please type in normal sized text? The tiny text Quinn and Xin are using is rather difficult to read. Especially when you use colors other than black. Thank you :) ))
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