"Threats? Threats?!" The wolf's jaws snapped impossibly open, his lower half completely dislocating itself from his mouth as he howled, "LISSANDRA!"
The moment he screamed that name, the storm blew out of proportion. Lightning cracked, thunder boomed, all of the Freljords could hear the cacophony. From the depths of the storm, thousands of voices joined in the choir of his howl. Thousands of the dead, from centuries past to now, all screamed in dissonance with the wolf.
"No so called gods have permitted my continued existence! You will not question my stance on the Freljords' preservation! If you have existed for so long, if you know of the Freljords, then you know all is not well! Ever since those three wicked women betrayed me, betrayed their own flesh and blood, the Freljords have been falling into ruination! Why do you think this storm howls, 'phoenix'? For centuries, for more than a millennium, I have only seen it become worse, and worse, and what can I do? NOTHING!"
Wulfrik's bones creaked and cracked even in spirit form. He pressed himself low to the ground and let out another howl. A bolt of lightning would spark and attempt to strike the cryophoenix.
"Trapped! Trapped in my own grave, her own mother's grave, defiled! She is out of reach, my last attempt, the Chieftain of the Ursine, failed! I can sense her power, 'phoenix', and I can do nothing but howl and rage! If I were not so tired, if I were not so decrepit, I would shatter my prison, but alas! I may not be able to have her, but you, you, defiler of death, can join me in my slumber. If I am not allowed to defend my beloved Freljords, why should you? By whose right do you defend the Freljords?"
Post by The Cryophoenix on Jul 3, 2013 20:45:18 GMT -5
Anivia had turned away, her attention elsewhere as she had all but dismissed the form of the familiar before her. Many times she had entered this realm before, yet she recalled little of what she must do here to rejoin her body and spirit. The howl of a thousand voices stood feathers of ice on end as the cryophoenix wheeled about once more. Perhaps this creature was worthy of her attention after all. The name was familiar, yet the wrath about it clashed forcefully with the peaceful princess of the Ice Dervish clan she knew. If Wulfrik claimed to be hundreds of years old, then his nemesis must be either long dead, or long in hiding.
As she tried to piece together the ragged ramblings of the long dead sovereign’s story, a brilliant flash interrupted her thoughts. The aberrant bolt caught her unaware, enveloping her in a fulgurant shell of lightning arcing across her body from one crystalline feather tip to the next.
Her voice called out once more, this time ringing with indignation, “Are you a wronged king or a petulant child, striking out with misplaced rage at any who might come within the range of your timeout? I am aware of the dangers that face this world, as I have spent the past 20 years since my summoning fighting them. The magical stability was so tenuous that the natural disasters made your storm look like a summer squall when they brought me here.”
The next stroke of her wings sent a sharpened spike of ice laden with electricity sailing toward the wolf’s form. Halfway through the shard’s passage, the lightning discharged from her body, striking the ground with an explosion of snow and ice followed by the shard itself. “Enough of your double standards and false morality! I defend the Freljord under no more authority than you ravage it long after death with your rage at your own failures. Give me reason to fight you, and I would be more than happy to set you on your way to rest. Give me reason to help you correct your mistakes and defend the Freljord—show me that you are capable of more than anger, and I may even help you from your prison.”
Wulfrik let out a sharp, condescending laugh. "Fight me? Send me on my way? Oh, foolish one, if only it were that simple. Why do you think the storm has raged for so long?"
The ice shard struck the ground in front of the wolf, throwing up clumps of the rime and frozen dirt. Any and all chunks of the ground passed through his incorporeal form. "I do not ravage the Freljords, uncivil one. My storm is in response to the ravagers, it rages so long as they exist. As I am now, I cannot be slain, my assistance is limited, and each time I interact with the Freljords directly, my form, I become weaker. Your plea has weakened me, and my storm."
A loud howl boomed out from him, the thunder echoing his anger. "You spent twenty years fighting them, how courageous! How brave! I spent my entire life as a human fighting them, and I continue to fight them for millennia! You have seen the ravages of nature for twenty odd years, witnessing the magical instability, I have bore witness to the battles that shattered the balance! Your astute nature no undoubtedly transcends mine! Your actions have undoubtedly shaped the entire face of the Freljords themselves! And now you ask me to trust you, to expect you to free me from my prison, yet you already have my blessing. And here you are, SQUANDERING IT!"
The wolf teetered to and fro, and slumped to the ground. He craned his neck upward and let out a growl, the storm started to quiet down. "The words of others...Are so meaningless. Words only betray. My word, the only reason it has weight, is because I am a fool. I believe in the value of my word. You know I cannot strike you down, she who soars in the heavens, not so long as I am bound. To think...a king, reduced to a crippled pup...Nothing has changed." Wulfrik rested his head on his decrepit paws. "I want nothing more than to rest with my Adawulfa. To see her again...yet, even now, I am denied that. If your word is true, then I shall apologize for my insults. If you are able to aid my beloved Freljords...Then when we next meet, it shall not be as enemies...But." Wulfrik looked up at the skies, staring at the Cryophoenix. "Before I let you pass, you must prove, here and now, that you are the phoenix of legends, lest you witness the full extent of my rage, and I penalize you for your grievous insult towards me."
Post by The Cryophoenix on Jul 23, 2013 17:41:57 GMT -5
Anivia tilted her head sharply at the utterance of the phrase ‘uncivil one,’ the remnants of lightning still arcing between her wings. Certainly he had attacked first, and certainly he had done so several times. This spirit’s grasp on reason was tenuous at best, centuries lost at worst. Yet no matter what he might be, this man was the spirit of the Freljord itself. It was all she could do to force reason upon him. “Yet ravage a war-stricken land this storm of yours does,” her voice rang with platitude, “Queen Ashe herself was nearly swallowed in your wrath, and all of her efforts to reunite your kingdoms with her. You know as well as I that the winter storm is is not selective in its fury.”
She descended slowly toward the wolf’s form as she continued to speak, the threat of hostility gone from her motions. “No, I have never claimed braveness or extraordinary service, only that from your prison, you cannot see the threats that approach the world as a whole. I could no more be here before my summoning than you could shape the future of the Freljords trapped as you are in death. Even if you watched the rune wars rip the Freljords asunder, you do not feel with the world. Your storm long predates those centuries of chaos.”
With the wolf visibly calming before her, Anivia took a chance to light upon the ground before him, the ethereal light surrounding her casting deep shadows from the small whirlwinds of snow her descent cast into the air. Folding her wings behind body, she stood before the avatar of undeath unflinchingly. “Your blessing I may have, but it is not your blessing that grants life or death. You must be aware of the plane in which we linger. Neither your choices nor mine will define the next stage of my journey, regardless of your threats. It is a magic of the world itself.”
She turned her head quizzically, regarding the spirit before her with a cool gaze. “You ask me to prove that I am the phoenix of your legend, and I’m afraid that I cannot. I know little of the legends today, let alone those centuries old. It is not unlikely that my people have nothing to do with your legends. I could tell you of the birth and death of the world itself. Of the rise of mountains far larger than your own and their slow crumbling into dust, of the inexorable end of the a glacier’s eternal march, the reversal of mighty rivers finding new paths to the sea. I could tell you of the creatures that crawl from the primordial soup, build vast civilizations, and fade away into time itself. But you are so very young...” She trailed off, her thought racing through the past, struggling to remember her own youthful contemplations of immortality.
She broke off her own reverie to study the decaying creature before her. Alone and wallowing in its own decrepit memory, this being had gained power born of rage. Despite its faults, the man within it wanted to see his kingdom safe. If nothing else, the creature deserved a modicum of respect. The rune adorning her body brightening still, blazing through the frigid wastes, “I can offer you only my personal seal, Gelid the Wulfrik, fallen king of the Freljords, and let the future speak for itself.” Her wings flared as she bowed low, sending a blast of winds outward spelling out the icy runes of her body in their wake. They blazed with natural power as she rose amidst them. “I am called Anivia, the Cryophoenix. I am the fury of the blizzard, the bite of the wind, and the cold of the ice. And should your world choose me, I will heed its call and rise as it’s will.”
The fallen wolf's soulless eyes lightened up, then dimmed, the moment Anivia said, "Queen Ashe," and continued to listen to the cryophoenix while the storm raged about them. When she finished, he finally spoke. "In life, you are correct, I was not the judge. I was a king, I did what I thought was best for my people, and look at my folly. To think I allowed them to live...This Queen Ashe...She sounds familiar. To be spared from my storm...hrn...It is hard to remember...I feel no rage for her, the sins of the parents do not fall onto their children...Their sins are their own."
Wulfrik struggled back to his feet, his limbs quaking from the effort as he rose, and his voice raised in volume. "Anivia the Cryophoenix, know this: My entire existence aims to correct what has been wrought by my own kin, my own blood who and those who dare try and destroy my beloved homeland. My guardianship of the my beloved Freljords will end the moment the moment my fury subsides. This storm will dissipate the moment the ley lines of the land are either guarded, or restored to their original state."
The old and withered king took a deep breath in and bellowed, "ANIVIA THE CRYOPHOENIX, I, GELID THE WULFRIK, DO SAY THIS: IF YOU WISH TO PROTECT THE FRELJORDS, DO SO, AND WHEN I RETURN, I WILL COUNT YOU AS NOT AN ALLY, BUT YOU SHALL INHERIT THE POSITION OF THE FRELJORD'S GUARDIAN AFTER MY WORK IS DONE."
With a slow, regal nod, Wulfrik started to trot away. "Do not disappoint me, Anivia, for you do not love the Freljords as I do. This anger, this fury, this storm would not exist, if my heart were not so broken from what my own selfishness had wrought. Perhaps one day, when you have kin of your own, I could ask you of your...view...on what you...would do, if you were...told...to kill...your own child..."
The giant wolf disappeared into the heart of the storm, and his final words that could barely echo over the sound of Gelid Vortex were, "Find...Ursine...tell...from peak...find...far north...black ice...entombed..."
Post by The Cryophoenix on Aug 29, 2013 14:15:07 GMT -5
The sins of the parents? Anivia had long known the queen as both a champion and a friend. She had learned the Freljordian histories. Could it really be that the lineages held so true? That the champion she knew had descended from the decrepit shambling soul before her? Perhaps there was some credence to his stories after all.
She was broken from her thoughtful reverie as the beast reared up once more to roar his edict, the powerful tones of authority ringing in his voice. As ever, the young and powerful would believe that their words alone could change the course of fate. And for once, she hoped his words might ring true. Many times she had felt the foreign chill of death’s embrace, and caught many a glimpse of death’s dull domain. But she had no recollection of so long a tenure languishing upon its plains, nor conversations with its immured denizens.
Though she did not respond, Anivia’s talons kneaded the ground at the mention of her kin. She had left her people behind to help this world. Would her life end without ever seeing them again? Anivia bent her neck to follow the spirit’s retreat even as its form began to fade into the mists. She forced the fragments into her mind: Ursine peak… Far north… entombed in Black ice. No doubt they would be critical to her journey, yet part of her wondered whether she could cling to any fragment of a memory of this realm. Finally, his bulk vanished completely, and with it, the storm that eternally raged about him. A stifling silence hung in its place, they grey of the land matching the grey of the sky. Anivia’s vision blurred. The air pulsed and Anivia flared her wings for balance. They caught no air, yet the vertigo continued: She was falling. Her mind reeled, unable to process the conflict from eons of experience. Before her swimming vision, a mountain began to rise, its peak shrouded in a writhing darkness. Her soul cried out as she felt the tendrils of corruption burrowing their way through the earth, consuming the barrier that stood between this world and the nothingness beyond it. The pain permeated the whole of her body, a violation of her very essence. A sense of horror beset her when a streak of radiant light clawed its way through her vision. She bent her head toward its source: hundreds of fingers of pure white light entangled her piercing her form with ease. She ought futilely against the binding with what little energy she could muster, but the strands only tugged harder in her unabated freefall. The mountain’s base loomed before her, and she let out a single cry of resignation before darkness overtook her.
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Welcome to Maelstrom, Original Characters, Summoners and Champions alike. We are a divergent setting roleplay forum for the ever-popular MOBA by Riot, League of Legends. This means we are based in Riot canon, but your characters' actions can have a real, lasting impact on the world. Together, the Maelstrom community endeavors to bring the League of Legends setting and characters to life through collaborative storytelling and meaningful development. We welcome you along for the ride.
Hang out in a citystate, visit the Institute of War, explore the uncharted recesses of Runeterra. Whatever you decide, good luck, have fun and happy writing.
hello new skin yes. gonna work out some kinks but let me know what you guys think. it's not all that flashy but i didn't really like the tabs so the side bar is back. oh and the cbox has also made it's appearance. -rurin.
Maelstrom was created by Swain. Written content is copyrighted to their creators on this site. The skin is created by Wolf and mini-profile template by Kuroya of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney and has been heavily edited by Rurin. League of Legends is owned by Riot Games. Maelstrom does not claim ownership to any images used unless stated otherwise.
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Chat box has been removed for the time being. Please contact me at Wyerden@gmail.com, or skype name DearCryophoenix with for any questions or concerns.
