OOC-- grins

IC--Drask was face to face with a daemon. And worse, a daemon with a sense of playfulness--more like cat and mouse games than much else, however... The house vanished, along with the butler, replaced by a hedge maze in a victorian garden, and a wolverine vanished into the undergrowth, growling 'catch me if you can'

Drask cheated. He burned down the hedge maze, leaving a slightly charred wolverine-daemon in the center, right by a little river with a bridge over it. The wolverine rent the bridge asunder, leaving no two stones atop one another. And it grew, growling deep in its throat as it did so.

'I have the home court advantage, and you would be foolish to forget it... mortal'

The scenery changed once again, now to a stone and steel room, square, with light filtering down from an unknown source in the ceiling. The wolverine became a man, normal in all aspects except for its size and eyes, which stayed the same and belied the daemon's true form. A sword materialized in its hand, and wavering for a moment, became solid. The other hand grew claws, long and sharp and dripping green.

It attacked, all claws and teeth and blade.

Drask parried the poisonous claws, thinking himself fast in this dream-like pseudo-reality, and by believing making it so. He struck with Thornfire and the jagged thorns left burning tracks on the daemon's assumed flesh, marring its almost too perfect beauty. The daemon howled in rage.

Drask's tailsword parried a thrust of the highland blade, and then sliced the thing from crown to crotch in a single powerful stroke. The daemon did not bleed, as these things are shapeshifters and can control their mass.

It split. And grew. Drask was now faced with two Daemons, each as fierce as the other.

Frantic, Drask's mind raced even faster than did his weapons, faster than did either daemon's armaments. He thought back to his studies in and of Mothdaenor, the Tamarst World of Dreams. (happy new year, btw) He searched his mental archives for some way to bring another into one's own dream. And came up nearly empty, except for an experiment he'd never actually carried out, his mindlink with Banthusir having been severed at the time of his 'Older Brother's' death.

Di'Ethe... You being the greatest warrior present, and perhaps even versed somewhat in the Realm of Dreams, look below and see the portal set up for you, and join me... hurry!

OOC-I just thought I'd apprise you all of the details now escaping (I assume) y'all's memories. This is a copy of what I put up at the last thread. I know its a bit redundant, but only if you actually read it in the last thread.

First, we're at the moment fighting a daemon who's tainted the World Artifact attuned to the Good. Second, we've been sent (by Gaia, no less), to retrieve the Diadem of Order (another World Artifact) which has been stolen by the minions of Dimindium (allied with the Dark Goddess Neit, who's got the Soul Searer, the Evil World Artifact). Dimindium's minions have also overturned the walls of the Garden, and have gained access to the very stronghold of the AtW. We might want to get that back at some point.

No one has heard of the whereabouts of the Powerstone (the Chaos World Artifact).

The overarching goal, at the moment, is to get the World Artifacts (all four of them), to form a mysterious thing called 'The Machine'... evidently some Godmaking device. The AtW's purpose in this is to banish Neit and revenge Di'Ethe upon the one who stole his love's life and now wears her body. And, of course, for Drask to atone for the wrong he did in that he was instrumental to bringing all the above about (go figure). If people want refreshers, I could put up various relevant things such as I've got archived on comps around the house and in my e-mail.

Just so you all would know.

And again: Happy New Year!

*********
What do you do when your dreams come true, but it's not quite like you planned?

OOC: D'UH. Metal Gear solid is dope.... Sneak Sneak Sneak

IC: The portal opened beneath the dark elf's feet drawing him into the new realm where the battle was being fought. Landing lightly on his feet as he materialised in the dream realm, Di'Ethe took a quick measure of what was happening.

Drask was fighting two daemons or what appeared to be humans and the damage the dragon managed to do aginst the creatures seemed not to faze them at all. The three moved at amazing speed and jumped about rapidly attacking and defneding all at once. Di'Ethe watched the two humans and realised that one seemed fainter and more 'fuzzy' then the other.

"Bah, Simulacrum." he whispered to himself and drew an arrow back on his bow. Something entered his mind as he cleared it of thoughts, It niggled away but Di'Ethe knew he had to make the shot before he could analyse this new feeling as the dragon could not hold out forever. Aiming for the copy daemon he watched the pattern of the fight and remembering what he could of Drask's skill and multiplying the speed by 10 he made the shot predicting where the daemon would be by the time the arrow reached the spot.

The arrow loosed from his bow and Di'Ethe dropped the bow to quickly run into battle with blade to aid his clan mate. The arrow struck home in the heart of the simulacrum which scream out in anger and frustration as it ripped it's way back into the original reforming a single entity. The black shaft pierced the ground sizzling with energy as Di'Ethe entered the dance of blade and claws. With two aginst one the two war angels had time to think about what they had to do and about the situation where there opponent seemed to counteract any offensive they put it to but never being able to return the attacks.

Di'Ethe felt a tug in his mind, stronger this time.

"vAl?" He asked telpathically.
"Yes, Home ground advantage," he heard before the voice faded away.
"Home ground advantage??"

Di'Ethe withdrew from the fight quickly realising what vAl had in mind.

"Keep him busy" Di'Ethe ordered Drask. The dragon only grunted and continued the fight as if he hadn't heard.

Pulling the fallen shaft from the ground, Di'Ethe nicked his forearm and let a drop of blood fall onto the ground. Chanting a few words the world shimmered and suddenly disintegrated.

The three combatants rematerialised back into the real world where Di'Ethe had consecrated the grove, His anchor to rip apart the dream world and return them to the real one.

The other angels now surrounded the daemon and prepared to assault it.

The daemon sensing deafeat imminent tried to escape by fleeing back to the dream world. He disengaged from drask and began to open a portal.

"NO!" Di'Ethe screamed in denial, then taking the shaft he plunged it deep into the consecrated tree.

"By your blood and mine, I consign you into this realm as long as either of us remains alive, you cannot not leave here!"

The daemon enraged by it's entrapment into the human and mortal realm charged the dark elf who parried deftly with his dagger and began once more to battle in earnest.

OOC: Hey guys just thought I'd make sure everyone has a go at this heehee. I don't think it'll last too long against a combined assault will it

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Death need not be the end of all things, Hopelessness is worse than death ever will be. Learn to survive through hopelessness and death will hold for you no fear.

~Di'Ethe

IC - "Confusion. Overwhelming questions, obligations and thoughts had been overwhelming Xandim. Fight Daemon, whoops, can't Drask fighting him. Anger. Great Anger. Must fight something. Can't, everyone thinks weak, so must be weak. Trained as child, yet weak. Sarcasm. So many uses, yet truth lies in some sarcasm. Xandim must be weak, for he run away to get strong. Part of AtW, must do follow orders, do what best for AtW. But he could take daemon and help AtW. AtW no allow that. AtW think dragonthing best, not knowing that daemon in Romulus head feeds on energy and will drain anger. The frailty of spirit at this point is denied. I do good job getting Gem? I run far, learn morph, use it to run far and get Gem to safe life, I do good job. But do I? No one says thanks, no one show gratitude." Xandim rambled on like a madman, cowering in a corner, an ethereal energy listening intently.

"You are greater than these 'friends' of yours your speak of," a smooth voice spoke softly, coming from this energy, "do you wish to become stronger?"

Xandim nodded, continuing to ramble.

"Follow me"

Xandim crawled towards this spirit as it led him into a temple. This temple seemed to have been deserted long ago. The marks of Val'khar stood strong. The only reason Xandim knew these signs were from the energies words. This energy led Xandim behind the altar, into a room with a weird chair. Weird was the only way to describe this chair, for it was not like a modern chair, or even a seat. It was merely 4 bars of steel, floating in the air to form two Vs, one to fit around each buttocks. Xandim sat down, still rambling on. The energy chuckled as it faded into the shadows, and the candles suddenly stopped glowing, light halting.

"Vaelkijharu" a voice boomed. Xandim was instantly surrounded by a crimson bubble, sparks shooting in this bubble, Xandim remaining motionless.

Anger. Drask had stolen his place. He should have fought the daemon. The Dragon had took his place, and will have defeated this daemon. Xandim must pay back the dragon and slay him. GRRRRRRRRRR. AtW didnt give him a chance to show his strength, he shall MAKE them see. Xandim could feel his body change, split into two. In this bubble, both forms of Xandim were floating, one was growing bigger, red, and becoming more demonic. Its hands were becoming sharp claws, his whole body growing bigger, all but his shorts ripping off. Blue lines were swarming one. The other one was becoming smaller, reverting to a human baby, white and transparent. Xandims thoughts were becoming more hateful. He was thinking of the pleasure it would be to kill his friends, to sneak up while they slept, act innocent, and slay them all. The demonic Xandim roared with triumph, picked up the now miniture baby, and ate it.

The first form of Xandim represented all the things evil in him, rage, anger, hate, pain, torment. The now gone form represented all that was good in him, love, friendship, honour. This voice had taken it away. The bubble around Xandim diminished, yet Xandim remained in the air, swarmed by blue lines around his body. He remained silent, waiting for the smoke to disappear.

"Now, Vrash, check on his friends. I want to know how my child is doing against this 'dragon' Xandim spoke fondly of." The booming voice ordering. "Neit will be proud.." he stopped, the last of the smoke fading away. What stood in front of him was beyond painful to look at. Xandim's skin had melted, creating a red goo, which had inredibly hardened over, creating a layer of armor around his body. His head had grown taller, leaving room for 3 dreadful horns, spikes if you will. These moved freely, under his total control. His eyes were pure white, his nose had become flat. His mouth was formed in a grin, currently looking at his clawed hands. A hook replaced his thumb, pure black in color, and hsi four fingers and turned into 3 claws. His feet had remained almost intact, except for his toes. In replace of his toes were 3 claws, again black. Xandim had become a Daemon, hate had overcome him....

Childs play best describes Di'Ethe and Drasks fight, for it is just a child. This feind they fight is merely a child. Little did they know what Neits new recruit was capable, nor that it was the being sent to control the garden, the very home of the AtW.

OOC- uh oh... xand are u trying to be like VSE well its a good thing that SE is mad inactive or he'd b like ripping into u for unoriginality ... nice split tho xand =]
this one will b quick.. cuz i am going to ghana..

IC- vAldiCi like the others, was unaware of the sudden change in Xandim's alignment. He was too intent on concentrating with the demon's energy in front of him.
But now it was endangering the junctioned mage. It was too close for vAl to safely focus. He snapped out of his entrancement and began to back up a couple of steps.
The others had the deamon encircled and were hacking at its flesh with great effort, but this only seemed to enrage it (or was it gaining pleasure from the pain it took, who can read a demon's howl?)
Though the enemy began to move stronger and faster when vAl stopped, it was necessary for him to fall back.
Ah, where was iZrAfeL when they needed a demon hunter? He would have enjoyed this day.
Returning his staff to the down position in the grass, he resumed tearing apart the mental barriers of the demon in his minds eye.

---

Alverons head was the only thing that seemed to stay still in the sea of blood. As his mind flowed his body was willing. The veins in his arm pulsed with hot blood and his silver platemail dripped with crimson.
"My axe is my friend and mark of honor."

More would die.

OOC- hehe.. see y'all on the 26th

OOC - I did not mean to steal orginality from SE's post(s)(?) I did it this way for somethin funny to imagine heh. well toodles. Just play along, go for garden whenever, ill be waiting. roar

OOC - I did not mean to steal orginality from SE's post(s)(?) I did it this way for somethin funny to imagine heh. well toodles. Just play along, go for garden whenever, ill be waiting. roar