Post:Tonights event - 6/18/2009 - 00:05:12
| Re: Tonights event · on 6/18/2009 12:05:12 AM | 11150 |
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Short version: WARNING SPOILERS(?)
Something is happening above and behind Lyras, but it is impossible to nail down. Attempts to describe it, even as you stare at its formation, involve paradox. It is a center of massless gravity. It is a hole in thin air. It radiates unseen light. It emits a fearful keening which you cannot hear. It is getting bigger. Vorclaf lands a good hit to Lyras's abdomen. Everything in the clearing seems to become surreal. Light dims, color fades, and sound comes in as though from a distant tunnel. The only thing that remains in sharp relief is the impossible light behind Lyras, which in one final push materializes as a circular, white- [Wilderness, Desolation] Burarm begins to advance on Lyras. Burarm closes to pole weapon range on Lyras. Burarm closes to melee range on Lyras. Vorclaf and Lyras stare at each other from across the desolate clearing. Burarm screams and collapses to the ground, his armor pitting and melting along with portions of his face. The two combatants raise their weapons once more, paying no attention to anything but the other. Sparks fly and metal screeches as longsword and scythe connect in violent clashes between Lyras and Vorclaf. Hefty swipes of the sword appear to rend cloth and flesh, but the Devourer's body simply repairs itself before the next connection. Return slashes of the scythe are barely deflected by the wolf-masked Prince, who shows no sign of fatigue despite the onslaught. The battle between Vorclaf and Lyras continues on in a virtual stalemate, neither able to inflict real damage upon the other. The only loser appears to be the shriveling form of Guard Captain Burarm, his armor melting away into thin rivulets of grey goo. The sun rises in a crisp, clear blue sky, heralding another fine day. Lyras asks, "You have skill, immortal Meraud. But do you really think to defeat an enemy you cannot even name?" Lyras laughs, her hair fluttering chaotically behind her as Vorclaf simply frowns. A swirl of wind howls through the area and the Devourer's typical pursed smile returns to her lips. Lyras says, "This is my place now, godling. Let me show you." Lyras stops, abruptly going stiff. Howling echoes around Vorclaf. The ethereal light around him intensifies, caught in some unseen struggle with the sigils. Holy light and demonic energy clash for almost a roisan, one growing brighter while the other gutters. Finally, the howls give way to an enraged growl and the light disappears. Meraud withdraws beyond your ken, leaving only a man in his place. The sigils go inert once again and Lyras stumbles back into motion. Vorclaf says, "What.. what did you do?" Lyras's only response is to swing her scythe in a glittering arc, burying it into the Prince's heart and releasing the haft. The now-corpse collapses to the ground, only the barest rivulets of blood leaking out from around the steel.
Vorclaf's blue-steel longsword falls to the ground. Lyras leans over Vorclaf's corpse, clasping both hands in front of and slightly below her mouth. She opens her mouth and begins to breathe in deeply, as an eerie blackness can be seen slowly spreading out from within. A sensation of pure hunger and malevolence strikes you, as the dark radiance exudes from her gaping maw to coalesce into a funnel that writhes and spins across Vorclaf's inert carcass. Within brief moments, you see the corpse begin to pale and wither as some ghostly substance begins to slowly break free of the dead body, as if being dragged by an immense power. A piercing scream echoes through the air, a primal cry from the Prince's spirit, as he appears to be quickly being devoured by Lyras's abyssal powers. Thirteen sets of glimmering white eyes appear at the edge of the clearing. The surrounding air is assaulted by the cacophonous growl of the approaching wolf pack. Each lupine warrior pads quickly toward the fallen Prince and his attacker, lips curled in fierce snarls. All thirteen simultaneously leap toward the pair, coalescing into a single giant wolf in midair. As the luminescent beast touches ground, a booming growl proclaims, "Not this warrior! He is mine!" The wolf snaps at the stream of ghostly effulgence and grasps it firmly within its maw. A lone howl rings out as the avatar of Meraud sprints from sight, carrying the essence of Vorclaf in its jaws.
After this I lost my mirror because it was on Vorclaf. Moments later the players kill Lyras again (I think?) You hear the ghostly voice of Lyras exclaim, "I.. must withdraw. You will all suffer for this!" Lyras's corpse appears to float back into a standing position, her appearance swirling as wounds fade from existence as if they were never there. As the last wound vanishes, a brief smile crosses her frozen face as if at some inside joke before abruptly disappearing from sight as if she too had never been there. | |
| This message was originally posted in Events and Happenings in DragonRealms' Elanthia (13) \ General Discussions - Events in General (OOC) (5), by KOUGEN on the play.net forums. | |