Brother against Brother.
Scene setting : Wrath Castle
This story is co-written with five other writers; Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle and Fu.
Razorbackwriter: It was no surprise to the Prince of Greed that the arrival of his armed forces would cause a stir, not to mention that the Castle soon sounded loudly that they were to prepare their army for a war. There was no sign of the Prince of Gluttony, and this much meant he was either inside, or somewhere on the grounds. He had not yet made an appearance, but something else did. A large ominous shadow that was so great in size that it cast its darkness over the very entrance to the castle itself. Red eyes shone out from within the shadow and a voice – loud enough to be heard rang out sending a wave of dire intent of malice across the entire army of Greed.
” Proceed , if you so wish .” The voice said.
The Prince of Greed eased up on his black fire mount and stared into the darkness, no doubt this was evoked by a powerful being loyal to the Princess of Wrath. Why else would it put on such a show. At this precise moment, the Prince of Greed reached for his helm and placed it squarely upon his head – the terrifying skull helm completing the beserker armor. A long loud howl erupted from within the armor as the power of its creation was now being absorbed by the Prince of Greed.
The Prince again raised his fist, only this time he sounded the order to begin the attack.
“DESTROY THE CASTLE AND ALL WITHIN!”
The roar of the army was heard. Massive catapults that had been dragged into battle by the large elephants began their assault, with massive rocks being hurtled at the castle walls with deadly accuracy. The first row of bowman lowered, with the second taking aim and firing arrows high into the sky to strike at those that manned the walls to protect the Princess from harm. Wave after wave, line after line of warriors charged forward, with the rear being the horsemen, that brought up the rear and raced for the walls of the castle. No doubt there would be a flood of the Wrath army coming out of the entrance, which unbeknownst to the Prince and his army had been opened in behind the dark shadow creature.
The Prince charged forward on his horse, riding straight for the Shadow creature, drawing his sword as his horse thundered at great speed. Large ladders were being thrown up against the battlements and walls, which would have warriors begin their assault, as the bowman continued to take aim at those on the tops of the walls and turrets.
It was a war being fought on many fronts, but the Prince was riding right into the storm. He was no coward, but would face the bitch on the throne, even if it brought him his death.
Temp: Astaroth had teleported from his kingdom to the outskirts of the kingdom of wrath, where Gabriel now resided. To be perfectly honest, he hadn’t expected Mammon to dive straight into battle without a proper plan. Then again, Mammon probably wouldn’t be expecting to receive assistance from Pride himself. Dominance, battle, being the best, these were all things that Astaroth held a solid hand in. One mistake people seemed to make was mistaking Pride with Arrogance, which was a terrible mistake to make. Astaroth demanded the very best, both from himself, and from those that served him. He refused to have anything under him that he couldn’t be proud of. His army, his kingdom, and his own power were all things he found this Pride in. Although he had not personally taken part in many battles, he was far from inexperienced or unskilled. This would be the perfect time to show that he was not all bark, and that he had quite a vicious bite.
Standing atop a nearby mountain, he took in the battlefield for what it was, a mess. The shadow creature was seemingly on Gabriels side, and there seemed to be gathering forces within the kingdom of Wrath. Astaroth was well aware of Leviathan’s stupid involvement, but wasn’t sure if he would arrive with an army as well. Then of course there was the Glutton, whatever side he was on was unknown. Where everyone’s allegiances were placed would be made completely clear soon enough. Gabriel surprised him with her boldness, but she was a clear problem regardless. “No point holding back, now is there?” With that said, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what was next. He immediately shot down onto all fours, and from the ground shackles locked around his wrists and legs, holding him in place. His eyes turned red as his powerful aura grew, and grew. A terrible roar would come from him as his body would suddenly change completely. He had not used this form in quite some time, in fact, he doubted any of the other princes even knew about it.
The enormous demon stood from his previous position, ripping the shackles free from the ground as he stood at his full height. Black magma dripped from his open mouth and trailed behind him as he stomped forward towards the kingdom.“I will grant you my aid, Mammon!” He shouted in a very loud and demonic voice, as he continued to make his way towards the battlefield. Eventually he would be stepping through Greed’s army, the likes of which was sure to stay out of his way. Once close to the front lines he would return to all fours, and use all of his limbs to bolt forward towards Mammon. Astaroth caught up with him very quickly, and slowed down to ride beside him, going into battle head on.
– The giant mass of shadows had veiled the soldiers that belonged to the kingdom of Wrath , as they continued to march onwards . The darkness began to lighten and concentrate in one area , which a single being could be seen . In one person’s train of thoughts he would seem plain and thin . But for those who had the power to sense a person’s strength through their aura they would be able to tell he was an ominous being , whether or not he was actually loyal to the Princess of Wrath has yet to be seen . As he couldn’t be recognized on either end as a ally or foe , but he stood in between both sides ; facing Mammon’s army however as his beading eyes could brighten , standing entirely still as the soldiers of Wrath ran past him . The Veiled Man could be clearly seen throughout the masses of soldiers clashing , but he didn’t do a thing at this moment in time. But reach for his primary blade ; Eclipse . –
Candle: Clutching the axe with a firm grip his facial expression turned immediately dull. Though he was actually excited to murder someone, despite his uninterested facial expression. Decapitation and mutilation would be the best part of his day, which made his overall day seem pretty boring.
Now that the fighting began going on, Baal charged in with both hands on his axe. His cigar was still placed in his mouth firmly and if it did get taken away from him he’d be engulfed with rage. A soldier came up to him slowly and looked up at Baal who towered him in height. grabbing him by his helmet, he squeezed the metal helmet tightly in his ferocious grip and squeezed his head until it popped.
It was a pretty satisfying feeling, just to hear someone’s brain pop like a balloon was enjoying. He lifted up his axe with both hands and began swinging wildly. Tendons and muscles snapped on instant contact, in one swipe he’d cut through armor and bodies. Each diagonal swipe he made resulted in someone loosing half there body or head, which was still good to Baal.
If he did miss on the other hand, he’d kick that person to the ground and stomp there brain in while people slashed his reinforced coat. He’d gotten one of the local blacksmiths to put chain mail along the inner part of the coat, making it a secret until someone actually hit his coat with a sword. Even if he did get hit, his bloodlust made his pain tolerance high enough that through any injury he’d fight till the very end.
“Just like the good ole times.” Baal said as his axe sliced through the bone that connected the right arm together.
Moo: The army was organized. Prepared in a matter of minutes as catapults began hurling rocks at the tower. Warlocks within vicinity would hold a force field that defied many large boulders. Granted about a third of them managed to pass through if holes were created. The magicians themselves would be safe from open fire in the meantime.
Gabriel’s warriors ran into battle with war cries, the wrath apparent on their faces. It was as if they were offended due to the attack. Whoever had the balls to bring a war to this turf may have been insane. Though not as insane as the new prince of wrath herself.
She laughed while she watched her new and unexpected ally hurl himself into the mass of bodies in the now penetrated wall. His ax swung this way and that. Blood spurted from different body parts. Heads flew, bodies crumpled. Limbs were severed, or they were simply cut in half. She loved the show. In fact, he deserved her applaud; she did such.
Now the real debate was walking into battle herself. Should she do this much, she might create a bigger problem for Mammon. She smiled as she thought of all the delicious souls that awaited her. Her eyes scanned over the army, in which was slowly decreasing in size in the front. The back still held many catapults, despite her men’s attempts to bring them down with their cannons. Gabriel pursed her lips while she looked at the wall. Fighting took place. More slaughtering. Her kingdom would truly be painted red this day. Perfect! It was as if they were celebrating her new command, gifting her their bodies and souls. And none of her men would turn on her; they admired her strength if she could kill Belial single-handedly. They most likely had faith she would do the same with Mammon.
“What’s this?” Something towered in the distance in a matter of moments. “Hm?” She cocked her head to the side. Astaroth had returned. It seemed he couldn’t go a day without making his presence known. In fact, that would be two times today. A laugh erupted. Three princes would die in a single day, granted she was able to murder them before they fled with their tails between their legs.
The fire on her horns grew in size, spreading over her forehead as if she were wearing a crown. Her eyes slitted further, glowing gold with specks of red. They seemed liquid like fire while her claws grew from her hands. She bared her fangs at the first few soldiers she laid eyes on. This day was going to be tremendous! “Come now. I know you can do better, Mammon.” Even if he weren’t able to hear her, she was satisfied in saying it. She took a breath and blew, torching those in front of her before moving on at her own casual pace, a smile playing over her lips.
Zetta: With the bout of the supposed incoming of his new leader’s command over Wrath’s army now clashing with the quickly formed army of Greed, two princes already having made their appearance while even a third threatened to lead an attack of his own. Cecil was reminded of home; the one he blew himself up to escape. It seemed he was meant to only be replaced in the same sort of place he had left then. Now however that he was finally fighting for a standard cause he was going to be much more effective with causing the death of others.. While he was no vanguard he was the very first to take a stand against the opposing army. The battle-lusting demonic humanoid, Cecil Terumi was on the field, leaving his mark everywhere that lay blood with risen torrents of clumped flesh bearing the ultimate disease. They held grown spikes within them, the primary offensive of such attacks. Staked on some of these were men on both sides, because Cecil’s attacks were to widespread for specific targets when everyone was fighting like this. The blood of his enemies filled his nostrils, he enjoyed every part of large scale battles.. All except the times when his strength proved to much for a man’s conscience and he managed to draw fear from their wretched minds. He slayed them still, for being cowardly in the face of imminent danger, but took pity on such weak souls seemingly forced into the tides of battle.
Within his own vicinity; the very middle of the battle taking place he was rampaging, clearly searching for a target to truly have his own fight with. He could effortlessly slay foot soldiers after all but that did not mean that he was truly enjoying himself here; because his attacks could surprisingly kill off a good man before he even would get off his stronger techniques.. If he could not bring back the head of someone important, Bella, the new princess of Wrath would likely pay him no attention as a gate-keeper.. That was when he noticed a man galloping on a horse in the head of the front, cloaked for the most part without any heavy armor like these grunts he was up against.. He was concerned, men like that were vanguards themselves or actual leaders. Most likely, that was the one heading this army. Odd for one to be this deep in the battle, but he moved with his instincts. Ducking under one spear coming towards him but then being impaled by another, one from his own men. Cecil coughed blood on the blade.. If anyone touched it they would be sorry, then he looked up at his attack, only to be pierced again through his ribs from one clad in breasted armor, that one was female.. A soldier on his side, as there weren’t any females in Greed’s army, Mammon’s disdain for them were widely known. He was hit on both sides, by both sides. Before succumbing to the combo he hooked both weapons under his arms and spun himself to create a temporary safe radius before he was charged at again. He twisted himself and them with his crazy strength, his eyes completely focused for now as he wanted to know just where that one he noticed was headed. If he was going to Gabrielle he would just have to die before he could reach her like the rest of this scum…
Once clear of foes for a second he leaped into the air, enhancing his cells with inhuman results to get hundreds of feet in the air. The spot as his wing-bones flexed and then began to spasm uncontrollably, signalling his taking on a pair of wings. Though they were weighed down by his extended flesh and bone and prevented him from full flight, but he could guide himself with a comfortable glide.. From here he witnessed a beast taking form, growing from within the opposition to become what he could only describe as a massive black dragon.. With this he would have to forget about that other one.. The beast charged straight over the other army and knocked the others Cecil fought with away like bowling pins. He could not allow something like that to reach Wrath directly without gambling with a siege. So he made his way for it, though it’s speed as a giant outmaneuvered his slowly guided gliding. To match that he lowered his arms slightly from their former 90 degree point to an an acute angle where he would descend faster to a bigger goal. He chased after the dragon until he caught up and simply dropped himself from a few hundred feet above to crash-land on it. He swarmed his body with extra masses of flesh over himself to better weigh himself down after balling himself up, taking on the form of a human cannon ball for maximum damage. Cecil was moving fast in a diagonal angle as the wind still carried him, left alone like this he would bust a hole through the black dragon’s back, while he himself had no opposition for what counter might have come as his vision was obscured and his entire move was focused on an attack.
Razorbackwriter: The battle field was awash with the blood of those that had fallen as the first causalities of this war against Wrath. It was almost being played out in slow motion, as the two sides came together in a sickening mass of warriors spurred on to kill the other till none were left standing. Limbs and heads fell so easily, others impaled upon large spears, driven deep into the moist earth. Eyes seeing out to nothingness as death was to come to many. The cries and shouts, screams and wails were but music to the maestros of this calamity. Was it true that fools rush in, or had the Prince of Greed believed that Gabriel would not possibly be able to gather enough support to counter his attack. From the outset, the odds were in the Prince’s favor. Surprise being the first card dealt. Little did he know that the slimy Prince of Gluttony had fallen under the spell of Gabriel’s swollen bosom and hourglass form. Traitors die a dishonorable death when a deal is struck, and no doubt there would be one to collect payment.
Ferociously, the Prince swung his sword at any that he came upon, as he thundered towards the entrance, the gaping maw of the Castle of Wrath. One unlucky bastard tried to take down the Prince with an axe, but the Prince had already drawn his sword back and swung it with deadly accuracy, slicing through the soldiers neck and then cutting through the vital arteries, severing the bone that kept the man’s head on his shoulders. Rich crimson blood spewed forth before the head simply flew straight off the soldiers shoulders and landed a good six feet away. The headless body teetering as if it had no idea what had just happened. A moment, and it would crumple to the ground in a pathetic heap.
The blade collected yet another weeping soul, to join in the chorus with the two hundred other already embedded within the blade’s edge. The horrific cries screaming out in warning as the Prince raced on for the entrance, but as he did so – there was the loud pounding of massive feet. It was coming from behind and sounded louder than any of his battle elephants. The skull helm turned and it was with something of a surprise that another great demon had joined into the fray.
“I will grant you my aid, Mammon!”
It was Astaroth. His voice unmistakable and his gigantic form overshadowing all of the other warriors on the battle field. Out from the skull helm, the Prince of Greed could barely contain his pleasure at the sight and offer made by Astaroth to join the melee.
“Good! Let us dispatch…the welcome wagon!” Mammon’s voice sounded peculiar coming out from the skull helm, as though he was not quite himself. With Astaroth racing along side the Prince, they would be a formidable force to those that drew their weapons to guard that precious slag….Gabriel.
The first to come into sight was the being that had been formed from the dark shadow that had veiled the castle in the beginning of the war. Now he was in clear sight, with pulsating red eyes that shone out – clutching what looked to be a sword of legendary status. He was standing perfectly still, as though waiting to be taken head on…and Mammon would not disappoint. As the Prince roared in his charge, he spat. “The first great traitor to Lucifer to fall to my blade!”
Mammon leapt off his steed, which reared up before turning and racing away back through the fighting soldiers to return to Greed Castle, as the fully armored Mammon approached the Veiled man. His spiked gloves of his right hand gripping tight around the hilt of his sword. The Prince of Greed showed no fear as he closed the distance between them, as the battle raged all around. There was no words of challenge, for they were not needed. Whoever this creature be, he served Gabriel, and thus….he was the enemy.
With a terrible roar, he then charged at the veiled man, swinging his sword back, and as it would be brought forward in an upper slash to go from the veiled man’s left hip diagonally through his torso and to come out at his right shoulder. The menace and power behind the swing would be with an almost super human force, which was attributed to the beserker armor that he wore. Should the hit land it would slice the being in half . If not, they were in for a battle royale on who would die first.