Post by x on Mar 16, 2013 3:37:15 GMT -5
Observation
The tomb was deserted, buried under the undergrowth of hundreds of years. The mystical energies contained within seeping out, corrupting the growth around the weathered stone causing it to twist and coil as if choking it.
Even if one didn't know what they were looking for, it was clear that there was dark magic sealed here. Morgana's wings were crushed and useless, burnt away by her own sister in battle. The sign of someone exiled from her people, deemed not worthy to bare the wings of an angel. An unforgivable punishment worse than death. Her eyes trained on the entrance to the tomb. Nothing would cause her to stray from her mission.
She now moved within the near pitch-black corridor, she ran a hand along the walls feeling the blackest of magic and it's corruption. It sent shivers down her spine, she knew once she got what she had come for, there would be no going back...
Morgana stoods still now, inhaled the stale air deeply, stared at the large rune inscribed door that had blocked her way. She had delved into the libraries and researched the spell needed to break the door... It was suspiciously simple. She raised a hand, a small black sphere of magic flickered into existence and circled around her hand. The door reacted, the runes glowed bright pink almost blinding the exiled angel.
Morgana opened her eyes, a large black smooth marble pedestal before her. She placed a hand upon the pedestal, the small orb of black magic disappearing instantly... Morgana gasps, searing pain enveloped her body, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she lets out a blood curdling scream before she blacked out.
She awoke some time later, confusion crossed her features, her once blong hair was now purple, mortified, she looked herself over to see the full extent of her physical changes, her once perfect snow white skin now tainted a light shade of purple. Clenching her fists she noticed from the forearms down, the skin on her arms were dark purple scar tissue. She looked around in terror, her and yet... She felt power, surging through her body. She turned her gaze towards the entrance to the tomb...
Her sisters faction and its tyrannical reign, no matter the cost, was to end.
Reflection.
Morgana was the first angel to enter these halls. An immortal from another world, yet whatever ones thoughts on how an angel was to look, Morgana was the complete opposite. Her wings were broken and useless, her long perfect hair not golden like the tales, but instead a deep shade of purple, her teeth pointed to fangs and her skin almost grey.
The Fallen Angel looked to be filled with anger, her hands clenched to fists, not happy with having to play the game of the summoners. It was necessary, she needed the power if she were to bring down The Tyrant that was once her sister.
Senior Summoner Montrose watched the fallen angel as she approached, the normal means of judging the mind was not going to work, the immortals mind was fragmented with pain and anguish. It was to require more than one summoner.
"Will you judge my mind now?" Her voice echoed around the room, impatient and rude.
"Is this even going to work?" asked Senior Summoner Montrose.
The Fallen Angel laughed, her voice sounding malicious, "It will work. Unless you are not as powerful as you claim."
Montrose responded. “Morganna, in order to admit you into the League of Legends, we must explore your mind. Our previous attempt resulted in the injury of a summoner, and his magical talent needing to be severed from him entirely until he recovered."
Morgana's eyes seem to flash a dark pink purplish hue, an amused smirk slowly grew on her lips, "I will allow you to enter this time... Last time was unexpected."
There was a rush of what felt like wind, and then darkness, and then light. Morgana was standing in front of her sister, Kayle was in her brilliant golden armour and staring at Morgana with disappointment, "Then consider yourself no longer my sister." A sick feeling pierces Morgana's stomach as she looks up to her sister with teary eyes.
Colors blur. The Institute of War comes back into focus.
“Morgana, you must allow us to continue. You cannot go back on our agreement.” stated Senior Summoner Montrose.
Morgana sneered angrily, her voice laced with anger, "Fine."
The younger summoner looked to Montrose for his cue. His composure unshaken, he nodded his head. “Then we'll try again.”
Shadows, lights, colors. It appears as though the image was of a large garden, the image of Kayle sat on a stone bench, her head bowed and her shoulders shuddering slightly. It looked as though she were crying...
Morgana approaches from behind, her eyes filled with anger, golden light crackling in her clenched fist. Kayle turns, her eyes widening with shock as she looks upon who was once her sister,
"Morgana? What are you doing here?!"
She quickly wipes the tears away and stands, her hand clenching her magical sword, it ignites with holy flame.
Morgana looks down at her fist for some time, her eyes gradually moving back to her sister, "I have gained the strength to stand against you." Her voice was calm despite the look of hatred on her face.
The memory wavers, the image bending and the colour distorting,
"Morgana! We must continue!"
The image reforms, the garden was alight with Kayle's holy fire fire, small craters littered the ground from Morgana's own spells. Morgana looks across at her sister as they both were flying to escape the magic and fire tearing through the garden,
"I am not the monster!" She screams up at her sister, the light magics coiling around her arms and firing a large golden sphere towards Kayle who barely dodged it.
"... You are beyond salvation."
Kayle's voice echoes around the destroyed garden, the fire currently surrounding her sword flares, a halo of fire forms above her head. The next thing Morgana remembers is falling down, searing pain screaming through her nerves, her once beautiful wings burning away as she fell.
Colors blur. The Institute of War came back into focus.
Morgana was doubled over clutching her arms across her chest, "The tyrant will fall."
Carin, ever the one for formality, replied. “We have entered your mind, Morgana. How did this make you feel?”
"D-.... Disgusted."
Senior Summoner Montrose cleared his throat. “Why do you want to be a part of the League of Legends."
"You know why. We have made a deal." She stands and glares at the summoners.
Montrose continued. “And you understand the conditions of such admission?”
“Yes,” replied Morgana slowly growing impatient with the questions, “I will play by the rules of your Institute."
Clearly uneasy by the experience, Summoner Carin remained silent. Senior Summoner Montrose, however unsettled himself, maintained his air of authority. “Then you shall be a Champion, Fallen Angel. The arrangements will be made.”
Morgana does something that causes the summoners to frown and look at one another, she smiles.
The tomb was deserted, buried under the undergrowth of hundreds of years. The mystical energies contained within seeping out, corrupting the growth around the weathered stone causing it to twist and coil as if choking it.
Even if one didn't know what they were looking for, it was clear that there was dark magic sealed here. Morgana's wings were crushed and useless, burnt away by her own sister in battle. The sign of someone exiled from her people, deemed not worthy to bare the wings of an angel. An unforgivable punishment worse than death. Her eyes trained on the entrance to the tomb. Nothing would cause her to stray from her mission.
She now moved within the near pitch-black corridor, she ran a hand along the walls feeling the blackest of magic and it's corruption. It sent shivers down her spine, she knew once she got what she had come for, there would be no going back...
Morgana stoods still now, inhaled the stale air deeply, stared at the large rune inscribed door that had blocked her way. She had delved into the libraries and researched the spell needed to break the door... It was suspiciously simple. She raised a hand, a small black sphere of magic flickered into existence and circled around her hand. The door reacted, the runes glowed bright pink almost blinding the exiled angel.
Morgana opened her eyes, a large black smooth marble pedestal before her. She placed a hand upon the pedestal, the small orb of black magic disappearing instantly... Morgana gasps, searing pain enveloped her body, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she lets out a blood curdling scream before she blacked out.
She awoke some time later, confusion crossed her features, her once blong hair was now purple, mortified, she looked herself over to see the full extent of her physical changes, her once perfect snow white skin now tainted a light shade of purple. Clenching her fists she noticed from the forearms down, the skin on her arms were dark purple scar tissue. She looked around in terror, her and yet... She felt power, surging through her body. She turned her gaze towards the entrance to the tomb...
Her sisters faction and its tyrannical reign, no matter the cost, was to end.
Reflection.
Morgana was the first angel to enter these halls. An immortal from another world, yet whatever ones thoughts on how an angel was to look, Morgana was the complete opposite. Her wings were broken and useless, her long perfect hair not golden like the tales, but instead a deep shade of purple, her teeth pointed to fangs and her skin almost grey.
The Fallen Angel looked to be filled with anger, her hands clenched to fists, not happy with having to play the game of the summoners. It was necessary, she needed the power if she were to bring down The Tyrant that was once her sister.
Senior Summoner Montrose watched the fallen angel as she approached, the normal means of judging the mind was not going to work, the immortals mind was fragmented with pain and anguish. It was to require more than one summoner.
"Will you judge my mind now?" Her voice echoed around the room, impatient and rude.
"Is this even going to work?" asked Senior Summoner Montrose.
The Fallen Angel laughed, her voice sounding malicious, "It will work. Unless you are not as powerful as you claim."
Montrose responded. “Morganna, in order to admit you into the League of Legends, we must explore your mind. Our previous attempt resulted in the injury of a summoner, and his magical talent needing to be severed from him entirely until he recovered."
Morgana's eyes seem to flash a dark pink purplish hue, an amused smirk slowly grew on her lips, "I will allow you to enter this time... Last time was unexpected."
There was a rush of what felt like wind, and then darkness, and then light. Morgana was standing in front of her sister, Kayle was in her brilliant golden armour and staring at Morgana with disappointment, "Then consider yourself no longer my sister." A sick feeling pierces Morgana's stomach as she looks up to her sister with teary eyes.
Colors blur. The Institute of War comes back into focus.
“Morgana, you must allow us to continue. You cannot go back on our agreement.” stated Senior Summoner Montrose.
Morgana sneered angrily, her voice laced with anger, "Fine."
The younger summoner looked to Montrose for his cue. His composure unshaken, he nodded his head. “Then we'll try again.”
Shadows, lights, colors. It appears as though the image was of a large garden, the image of Kayle sat on a stone bench, her head bowed and her shoulders shuddering slightly. It looked as though she were crying...
Morgana approaches from behind, her eyes filled with anger, golden light crackling in her clenched fist. Kayle turns, her eyes widening with shock as she looks upon who was once her sister,
"Morgana? What are you doing here?!"
She quickly wipes the tears away and stands, her hand clenching her magical sword, it ignites with holy flame.
Morgana looks down at her fist for some time, her eyes gradually moving back to her sister, "I have gained the strength to stand against you." Her voice was calm despite the look of hatred on her face.
The memory wavers, the image bending and the colour distorting,
"Morgana! We must continue!"
The image reforms, the garden was alight with Kayle's holy fire fire, small craters littered the ground from Morgana's own spells. Morgana looks across at her sister as they both were flying to escape the magic and fire tearing through the garden,
"I am not the monster!" She screams up at her sister, the light magics coiling around her arms and firing a large golden sphere towards Kayle who barely dodged it.
"... You are beyond salvation."
Kayle's voice echoes around the destroyed garden, the fire currently surrounding her sword flares, a halo of fire forms above her head. The next thing Morgana remembers is falling down, searing pain screaming through her nerves, her once beautiful wings burning away as she fell.
Colors blur. The Institute of War came back into focus.
Morgana was doubled over clutching her arms across her chest, "The tyrant will fall."
Carin, ever the one for formality, replied. “We have entered your mind, Morgana. How did this make you feel?”
"D-.... Disgusted."
Senior Summoner Montrose cleared his throat. “Why do you want to be a part of the League of Legends."
"You know why. We have made a deal." She stands and glares at the summoners.
Montrose continued. “And you understand the conditions of such admission?”
“Yes,” replied Morgana slowly growing impatient with the questions, “I will play by the rules of your Institute."
Clearly uneasy by the experience, Summoner Carin remained silent. Senior Summoner Montrose, however unsettled himself, maintained his air of authority. “Then you shall be a Champion, Fallen Angel. The arrangements will be made.”
Morgana does something that causes the summoners to frown and look at one another, she smiles.