Esme’s Gift – The Witches Circle : PD

Following on from ‘Blood Magic’.  Should Astartoth; the Prince of Pride be trusting of Lavinia and her magic?  Probably not….

Fudo:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.

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– The Young Scholar’s mouth stayed shut as he listened to the Prince of Pride speak to the Elder , having seen them continue to speak about the relations in the kingdoms Oridin had found himself listening to Lavinia without a second thought and came over to her to take what she had asked for. Oridin would take each of the items listed and would then place them into a bag he carried around , knowing that at this point in time he was to be ready ; he was simply glad he carried around a small bag of magical items . Staying quiet alittle bit after hearing what was told to him Oridin mentally prepared for the voyage. But being a Apprentice he wanted one thing in particular. –

Oridin Lexington : ” Elder, since I am to depart soon for Pride ; I wish to ask if I am allowed to delve in your knowledge ? A book or two from your collection , it would be an honor to learn from a mind so divine . A mage can always expand their knowledge and learn no matter where they are , and I wish to not slack even while on a mission .”

– Surely the journey ahead will be a new experience but he would find it to be a special one . Away from home , in a new land devoid of his comfort zones . His mind could tell there would be new things he’d learn , whether it was to help him in his studies or just knowledge to know . –

Tory:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.
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The Witches Circle

He frowned at Lavinia’s words. He did not like to hear a mention of shift in powers. Not from a witch after hearing it the same day from a genie. Something was really wrong and it seemed to Astaroth that the prince of Gluttony had been thrown smack in the middle of it.
Is there anything any demon can control?” he muttered rhetorically under his breath as the elder stepped down from her throne. He’d been unlucky enough to hear stories of a gluttonous prince once. To this day he still regretted hearing them. A person that couldn’t stop eating or wanting was simply something Astaroth couldn’t understand. He himself was supposed to be a prince of pride but he was not a proud man. At least, he didn’t feel so.
Lavinia’s mention of the right hand of doom made everything click for Astaroth. He knew what the hand along with a heart could do. But he also knew that it didn’t need to be a proud prince’s heart. It just had to be a prideful heart.
Is that his goal? To bring destruction upon the world?” he asked angrily, though the anger was not directed at the elder. She did say that the gluttonous prince perhaps didn’t understand the power he now controlled. If anyone was mad enough to wield the right hand of doom and even think of capturing a prideful heart along with it, they most likely didn’t understand anything or were simply in no condition to make decisions about even their underwear for the day.
It serves me perhaps more than I’d like to admit, but it really puts a damper in my stroll when I can’t do it because of pain. At the rate it’s getting worse and the future it is most likely warning me about, I doubt I’ll be able to move by the end of the week.” which would typically be the time which his attacker would choose to come knocking.
Astaroth looked back at the witch once she mention the time limit and the gift. He was relieved Gluttony only had six days left. Astaroth liked to believe his defenses were good enough to last that long. Especially since he hadn’t received any warning of an approaching army from anywhere around the lake.
He waited patiently while she explained the ritual to the boy. It was not the time to speak nor his place. It was interesting to say the least to see the witch explaining. As Astaroth wasn’t a being that used magic like they did it was fascinating to observe. He would gladly sit through rituals performed by witches and warlocks just to see how it worked. To document the process and make a detailed report on witches and warlocks for future generations to read and learn from.
Thank you, Elder. I will gladly grant him full access to my library for study and I will do my best to keep the boy safe until he can return here to be raised in rank.” he bowed to Lavinia and turned to Oridin. “I’m afraid I can not travel with you nor can I leave my island to escort you back to my castle. But I will make sure a flag will be waiting for you at any dock you choose to travel from so that you may pass safely over the lake. If you wish I can send someone to keep you even safer on your way.[/b]” he waited for the boy to answer before nodding and removing his crown. He stood for a moment before his body crumbled into the golden sands it came from and Astaroth’s consciousness was transported back to his own body in Pride castle.

[Thread change to Pride Kingdom]

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.

Thankfully Astaroth was not stupid. Nor it seemed consumed as yet by his sin. In a way it was a blessing, but possibly a curse in disguise. The Prince of Pride was a man that used his insight to question the possible actions of others, in particular the other Princes. Astaroth continued to bring up questions, that Lavinia was more than happy to answer. After all, much was at stake and she knew exactly how best to play it.

“Is that his goal? To bring destruction upon the world?” A very good question. Lavinia paused for a moment, as a raven returned from its flight – message delivered. It landed upon the tip of Lavinia’s staff and stared with its black eyes at the Prince, then turned it’s head back to his Mistress, who nodded at the raven before speaking.

“One of hunger does not care what it consumes, so long as there is to be power gained from such. But I guess, that if you were to eat the world hollow, it would collapse therefore bringing its end. Imagine being so obsessed with this never ending hunger, you fail to see just what you are really doing.” Lavinia tutted, but then showed another smile. Knowing full well that Astaroth could rest easy with the fact he had six days to prepare, and with this new gift and the assistance of yet another to his cause. You would think he was blessed in a way to have so much going for him. Servants that would do anything to protect his royal heart.

Having accepted both the gift of the mage’s help and the items he would be carrying with him, Lavinia was happy to see them on their way.

As the Prince had arrived in the unorthodox manner of being nothing more than a golem, she watched the Prince advise the young Mage on what preparations would be made on his arrival at the lake. A flag would be at the dock, allowing safe passage over the lake to the castle proper. Once Astaroth’s body crumbled to nothing but golden sands, Lavinia turned to her young mage.

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” Her voice having a delicious purr to it.

Pinching a tail feather from her trusty raven, she then tucked it gently into Oridin’s hair. “There…another gift. It will help you when the time comes.” She didn’t say how it would help, but clearly she knew more about the Pride kingdom than she had let on. Raising her hand, she revealed a sparkling golden mist that she then blew towards Oridin. This was to help him travel across to the lake of Pride, where no doubt others were waiting for safe passage.

“Now. You seek books. Feel free to use my library in my house. Take the two you need and then simply say “teleportavimas” You will leave Witches circle and Dyre immediately after.”

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Standing not far from where all this had taken place, Esme watched on silently. Her eyes were dilated and she could feel the very dark magic in the air….pulsing through her veins and teasing her mind. Would she be strong enough to fight it when the time came?

~RB~

Fudo:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.

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– The Apprentice listened to the two exchange words before the Prince of Pride offered allowing the library of Pride to be at his full usage ; it would seem that he would have to take the voyage alone as the Prince of Pride did not arrive naturally. This meant Oridin needed to get there with assistance of sorts ; he did feel a bit unease as going alone was never something he enjoyed but alas he needed to get out there into this world and understand more. The Prince of Pride would soon leave and the Apprentice would bow respectfully as he vanished ; Oridin would listen to the Elder as she had spoken to him as she placed a feather into his hair . He would bow again nervously but all the more gratefully for her help. –

Oridin Lexington :” Thank you for your assistance in my educational pursuits ! ”

– Oridin would run off but would slowly backtrack with a very awkward look in his face before his voice finally came back out . He didn’t know where to go , and felt quite flustered for storming off without having any knowledge of where she lived precisely and he didn’t want to go blindly looking . –

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Oridin Lexington : ” Um……. where is your house Elder ? ”

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.

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“I know where it is.” Esme stepped out from behind one of the dead trees and offered a warm smile to both her aunt and Oridin. She’d been paying close attention to everything that had gone on and now she saw it may be a good time to step in. Surely Lavinia had more pressing matters, like speaking with her raven now that it had returned out of the two she sent away. Holding her hands in front of her with her fingers laced together, Esme turned side on and allowed Oridin to walk to her side so that the pair might start off together. Being aware that Oridin was to use one of Lavinia’s spells to move across to the lake of Pride, she did have some curiosity over the raven feather that had been gently inserted between locks of Oridin’s hair. Her eyes glanced up towards it with her eyebrows also raised. Not to let on that she was being so inquisitive, she called back to her aunt.

“I’m happy to show him the way back.” Esme added cheefully.

“Very well.” Lavinia’s tone was almost dismissive in its delivery as she returned to her knotted wood throne to sit and stroke her raven.

Knowing it would be foolish to hang around after the matter was done and dusted, Esme started off – reaching up to draw her hood over her head. Her long red cloak billowing behind her. A cool breeze had now whipped up. The chill was enough to raise the hairs on the back of your neck. Almost like a frozen hand strumming the air currents. So very strange. Esme did her best to ignore it.

As the pair walked along, Esme had to ask.

“The Queen is sending you on a very special assignment, but…I have a bad feeling about this.” Esme couldn’t help but get a sense of foreboding about the whole thing. First Lavinia sends Gluttony packing with a powerful banishment, then she brushes off Mariela, the Princess of Greed with a warning…..and now she is gifting Pride and sending the young Mage to do a spell of protection. Esme pursed her lips, but her worry was growing. This time piece that the Dark one spoke of….was doing harm…everywhere.

~RB~

Fudo:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.
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– Oridin sighed with relief hearing Esme give him a sign of knowing where it was and with that Oridin went to the side of Esme to follow as the Elder dismissed them both. Off they went to the library of Lavinia , while walking Oridin’s mind was full of curious thoughts . How would the Kingdom of Pride be for a person like him ? He wished to know how it was out there when he got there , but before all of that he was curious on the nature of the spells in the library and hoped it expanded the nature of the spells he knew and hoped to learn as well as understand and the information he wished to acquire about the nature of light and dark. He didn’t forget the reason why he ended up in hell. It was all because of that….. kid. –

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– He was still curious on why the person was as skilled as he was with magic and the dark arts while having the appearance of a child . But who was that person ? Did he orchestrate Oridin’s being here? The male let out a sigh as he kept on thinking about it , but discarded the notion as he heard Esme speak which broke his train of thought back into reality. –

Oridin Lexington : ” Well I’m sure I should be fine. I’ll brave the possible dangers of the Kingdom of Pride with hopes that I’ll return with ease , but if not then I will come back regardless. I will miss you for the time that I must spend away. Keep me in your thoughts. ”

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– Oridin gave a soft smile as he spoke and continued on , with hopes they’d reach the library soon so he could get what he coulld and then depart for the Kingdom of Pride .-

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.

So little was truly known about Oridin. Lavinia had never seemed interested enough to investigate his possible heritage. The only one who took the time to get to know him was Esme, and right now she had mixed emotions about him going on this assignment to Pride on Lavinia’s behalf. Though she had passed on her concerns, Oridin appeared relaxed and even happy to go wandering into the Kingdom of Pride. He went as far to say that he would face any dangers head on, with the hope of returning with ease. Either way, he assured Esme he’d come back regardless. Esme had to admire his courage, and conviction with each passing word, but that didn’t ease the worry in the back of her mind. The pair trudged along together, making their way back from the dead forest and into the more magical setting of the main village. Lavinia’s cottage, which was a simple single storied thatched building made from mud and stone sat in the midst of a beautiful garden that contained not just wildflowers, but also an array of herbs and spices that were handy in many different types of spells.

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Opening the hinge timber gate, Esme pushed on through and continued up the path. Lavinia’s library was at the back of the cottage, and they needed to pass through the living area and then down a corridor, once inside the cottage.

Esme’s heart warmed a little, to know that Oridin would miss her for all the time he was away. The young apprentice had found him to be more than just a good friend, but a confidant as well. The many afternoons laying in the wide fields and talking about their latest spells and potions, always made her feel at ease….it was one of the rare chances she had to truly be herself, without her aunt’s sometimes overshadowing control.

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Passing Esme’s own little bedroom that was not far off from the library, Esme stopped and then went inside to get something from her small treasure box. Whether Oridin stopped to watch her, she did not know but when she found the trinket, she closed her box and set it back on her dresser, before coming back out again.

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“Here…” In her outstretched hand, there was a small broach in the shape of a dragon. It was silver in colour, but when you turned it in the light, the scales of the dragon changed to a swirl of colours…all like a rainbow. “it belonged to….my Father. I want you to wear it and if you are ever in trouble…think of me.” Was there a spell attached to it? It was possible. Esme stared at Oridin and then closed her own fingers over his hand if he took the broach.

“Now…the library.” Having done as much as she could think to help him, she showed him through to where Lavinia kept all of her books.

“It’s a bit dusty in here. Sad to say, I don’t usually come in here if I can help it.” She stood at the door and watched Oridin enter.

~RB~

Fudo:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.

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– Oridin followed his friend into the cottage upon arrival ; he would stop for several moments here and there to take some self observant notes about the place as he was curious about the nature of the area they were in . Very much so that Esme would be able to go to her room without him noticing as he looked around the cottage interior until she approached him with an item of value –

Oridin Lexington : ” Thank you for this item , I’ll take very good care of it . ”

– When she mentioned that it’d be best to think of her during times of trouble he took the sign as a gesture and he’d smile ; nodding back at her as if telling her he understood. He was a bit flustered and didn’t know what words to say , that much could be seen by the nature of his reaction to her . When Esme had showed the direction to the library Oridin’s jaw slowly opened as he stared , his eyes glowing with interest and fascination about the knowledge that these books may very well have.-

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Oridin Lexington : ” So. Much. Books !!! ”

 

The Witches Circle – Blood Magic : PD

 

Following on from “Just the beginning” – The Witches Circle series.

 

Fudo:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.
Witches Circle

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Oridin Lexington:” I see. So what does that entitle for us all ?”

– Oridin had kept quiet the entire time , hearing more and more that has been said it was implied Greed and Gluttony are not on the same boat when it came to understandings and the Apprentice realized this must mean that they had to be enemies possibly. These were all theories however, as the apprentice did not know who these people were or anything and was only going by the context that was given. He walked closer to Esme before looking around at the more empty space since more and more have them left and now leaving barely anyone in this area . Oridin would then ask her where they should go now , since there seemed to be nothing for them out here at this point in time. –

Oridin Lexington:” So where should we go next ? ”

Tory:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.
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In the middle of the circle a sudden burst of light spread out and was followed with the second half of the prince’s shrill scream of pain and when the light dissipated and lighting returned to normal, Astaroth was kneeling in the middle rubbing his temples and cursing all that is holy. Especially archangels and their barriers of no-leaving-for-you-mister. After about five seconds or so he stood up and looked around. He could feel there there was no shred of his powers in this golem, an uncomfortable feeling that left him on edge. He wouldn’t be able to protect himself at all, although perhaps he could just remove the crown and be fine.
He saw two people and bowed towards them as their attention would surely be on someone that appeared as suddenly and extravagantly as he had. If it had been up to him though, he would’ve arrived without screaming in pain and blasting out light. He was hoping he’d brought a little bit of his seal with him and thus weakened it. He had suspicions that were not the case though. That would simply be far too convenient.
I do apologise for this horrid entrance. I would’ve chosen something less bright and soundless, but such is not my luck.” he smiled sweetly at the two. “My name is Astaroth and I hold the current title of Pride.” he bowed deeply this time. “I wish to speak with your elder, if that is alright?” he kept it short for the clock continued ticking and Salem had said he wouldn’t be able to keep the golem up for too long. Astaroth hoped the kid wasn’t exerting himself too much. He would feel horrible if Salem would use up too much of his powers when Astaroth really could’ve just sent a raven. All he could do now though, was his best at explaining his situation to whoever wanted to help and make it appealing enough for them to actually try and break the barrier.

 Dessy:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.
“Do you even know why the Prince of Gluttony sought a new arm in the first place?”Shamus spoke, and Mariela raised an eyebrow. “No.” she said simply, and left it at that. Shamus then started speaking about Mammon, and Mariela’s eyes narrowed. “I am not like Mammon, nor will I ever be. I can’t be held responsible for the destruction he or Lydia have caused. That’s not my doing, and if it was up to me, whatever destruction they caused would’ve never happened.” she spoke, shaking her head as she talked. Shamus was then stopped by Lavinia, and she moved her gaze to look back up at the Elder.

She moved her eyes to watch Shamus leave, before looking up at Lavinia. “I appreciate the offer, but I made the mistake in trusting the wrong people before. I’m not making that mistake again.” she then said. She turned to glance at her family behind her when Lavinia spoke, before looking back at her with a curious expression, watching the Elder witch walk off with narrowed eyes.

“You were right about the heart. It’s not yours that is needed, but that does not mean that you are out of danger. This….is only the beginning.”

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Another voice spoke, and Mariela turned to look at her. ‘I never said I wasn’t out of danger.” she spoke. “I know fully well the amount of danger I could be in, but I’m not at all worried.” she said afterwards. She turned her head to look back in the direction the other witches had walked to before speaking again. “As much as I appreciate your Elder’s offer, I’ve trusted the wrong people too many times.” she said, looking back at the girl. “One of those times lead to my death.”she then said. “Until I’m proven that all of them can be trusted, I’m not taking any chances.” she then spoke after.

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Mariela heard a scream of pain, and then saw a flash of bright light. She immediately turned her head to the source, taking a few steps back as the person appeared. She gave a small curtsy when he bowed, before turning to look back at Esme.“I think I’ll take my leave now. Give your Elder my apologies.” she then said, nodding her head in farewell before turning and motioning for Scar and her family to follow her, before exiting the Witches Circle. Did she make a mistake? Maybe. She didn’t know. But everyone makes mistakes, and everyone has to deal with the consequences. Was Mariela worried? Not really. Good always wins.

(TC? Maybe?)

Razorbackwriter:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.
Witches Circle

Scar hated being right. He knew from the start that going to the Witches circle was a bad idea. He didn’t trust the Elders at all, and the news that another Princess may possibly have been killed in their sacred grounds meant that the likes of the new Princess of Greed being there – she’s have no protection anyways. The alp however was proud of his Mistress. She handled herself with a sense of pride and dedication to the protection of her family, no matter who was making threats with them. She bluntly told them all, she would kill anyone that tried to harm them. So much passion in her voice, that tears welled in Scar’s eyes. She was nothing like Lydia, and he thanked the maker for that fact. Mariela didn’t need these beings protection. He and her family would be that circle of trust…their bonds already proved over and over. In the maze, and back at the castle. Mariela had been burnt by those she trusted. She swore never again to take that chance.

“I think I’ll take my leave now. Give your Elder my apologies.”

Scar stood by her side and bowed politely before Esme and Oridin. “It’s time we went home.” The alp was already making plans on how to help get Mariela’s family home. He didn’t need the Elders to do what he had already done before. But at least now, Mariela had seen what witches and warlocks – the Elders were like. Looking back at Tessa, Sam and Sean, Scar motioned with his head that they start to leave the area. They had a long walk home.

In the forest edge a dark shadow hovered and there was a distinct chuckle that watched the scene playing out before him. So this…was the new Princess of Greed. Pretty. He thought to himself. Watching them depart, Marcus fell back into the shadows. He would make his move….when they were least expecting it. Here, at the Witches circle, there were the ancients that were sure to start whispering their annoyance. Marcus was not about to let that happen.

(TC – Marcus – Scar to Greed Kingdom)

Now that the Princess of Greed and her party had left, there was a great explosion of light from the center of the circle. It seemed that the royals of Hell were continuing to visit the Witches circle. Perhaps news of Gluttony’s murderous spree was starting to filter out to the other realms and more were coming to protect their own interests. Oridin asked where they were off to now. With the newest arrival, Esme knew that they weren’t going anywhere just yet. The apprentice served Lavinia no matter where she was in Dyre.

“I do apologize for this horrid entrance. I would’ve chosen something less bright and soundless, but such is not my luck.”

Fireworks and a light show. It had to be a royal. Esme offered a sideways glance at Oridin as she returned to hear the rest of the introduction.

“My name is Astaroth and I hold the current title of Pride.”

“Pride?!” Esme’s sudden cry of the Prince’s name showed that she was now deeply shocked that the one that Shamus had mentioned was now standing in the Witches circle. Did this…Astaroth know about Gluttony? The introduction showed nothing but good manners, and no real fret or worry. You could see the blood run from Esme’s face, and she stood awkwardly, her eyes darting around to see if the great Glutton would suddenly return unannounced, even though Lavinia had used a banishing spell that meant he could not return.

“I wish to speak with your elder, if that is alright?”

“You mean, Lavinia. She uhm….she’s this way.” With a sinking feeling in her own heart, she turned and gestured for the embodiment of Astaroth to follow. “Lavinia was here, but she left the circle.”

If Astaroth and Oridin followed, Esme would take them deep into the forest. Normally she would lead them straight to the cottage, but from the feeling of magical power, Lavinia had taken a different direction. Heading to a much darker place, where there was a special clearing. Within it stood an ancient tree that was devoid of leaves and flowers. There were no animals except for the raven which sat upon her shoulder. There was a great chair fashioned from the twisted roots that had come up from under the ground. Lavinia was sitting in this chair, meditating. Only when the trio entered the clearing did she open her eyes.

Esme bowed as she approached, with Lavinia staring down at her with a look of disdain.

“I have a guest that wishes to be granted audience….my Queen. It’s…Astaroth…the Prince of….”

Before she could finish, Lavinia bore a great smile and watched Astaroth approach.

“Ah yes….the Heart. Such a proud heart. One that beats so fiercely. It’s a wonder that it is still in your chest, but don’t worry, the Gluttonous one can not enter Dyre….I sent him packing.”

No doubt this was going to bring a series of questions from Astaroth, who knew nothing of the plots of the Prince of Gluttony. If he did feel threatened however, it came from the realms, not the Witches Circle.

“I know you….I walked with you once upon a dream.” Lavinia seemed to be enjoying this now, smiling over at Oridin and then saying to the young mage. “You may well be leaving us to go to a Castle that lay in the center of a lake.” The Elder spoke of the Kingdom of Pride, but that of course all hinged on what Astaroth said next.

~RB~

Fudo:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.
Witches Circle

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– Oridin bowed his head in return to the male that had done so to him ; being awkward about the whole ordeal and not knowing who they were personally or their importance and had only done so out of respect . When seeing the Prince of Pride announce himself Oridin felt quite shocked as to how many royals had appeared here today. It had to have been at least 4 . He didn’t know what to say next ; in fact , he couldn’t find any words to leave his mouth at this time but instead respectfully bowed to the male known as Pride as he spoke to them , he allowed Esme to speak for him as he couldn’t find anything to say so he walked simply as a mute with her to where she was bringing Pride . He didn’t want her to go alone , he didn’t have anything to do also and wishing to know more about the Elders is one of the things Oridin wished to do . He wanted to more closely get in touch with the art of magic and get much more close to how it should be wielded and how to do so efficiently . His mind hovered around the thought of how to introduce himself when reaching the Elder ; finding himself in face of Lavinia upon reaching her domain which was quite grim in nature and held solely but a chair and the tree that it was near ; Oridin can only assume the Elder was quite spiritual and he bowed in respect when she spoke to the group and then seemed to have spoken to Oridin about going to a Castle in which Oridin’s behavior broke its structure as his response came . –

Oridin Lexington : ” C-Castle ? I’m going where ? ”

– Oridin’s eyes seemed to have showed the sensation of fear, however it wasn’t the typical being afraid of something but in truth it was him being uneasy about going somewhere where he hasn’t been , a place truly foreign to him . Oridin had gotten use to this realm , and as scary as it sounded he sighed thinking about what may happen when he’s gotten there . He tilted his head down and stared at the ground before taking in a deep breath to say –

Oridin Lexington : ” Wherever it may be , I’ll go if that is the will of the Elders. ”

– There may be some good in going to another land , as it may teach him more about the world as well as expanding his knowledge . He could always use more , more to learn and the more things he could find out while being in the realms beyond the Witches Circle . His fear slowly faded into inquisitive bliss . He felt as if he could really do it. –

Tory:
Re: [RP] The Witches Circle.
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Lavinia’s Domain

Astaroth jumped as his title was suddenly cried out. He had been out of the game for several centuries, if not a few milennia. Appearing nowhere, never sending messages and really just not contacting the world outside of his prison. Such a reaction was to be expected, however, it still surprised him. It was almost rude. He did forgive though as it was justified. Anyone would be surprised to see a man that had probably become a story in his time away. A myth, maybe. Or perhaps that was just Astaroth’s wishing.
Just as the girl had cried out, the boy beside her bowed. Perhaps he held a higher rank than the girl and thus had better manners?
He bowed to the girl again before following her. He caught up quickly so that he’d walk just a little bit behind the two. He was being lead somewhere, walking beside them would be useless and he’d just seem awkward whenever he’d take a step in a different direction than where they were heading. So behind it was. Walking behind also gave him a chance to take in the sight of the forest. There were no forests on his island and he so missed the free nature. All he had was a garden with herbs, a few flowers and an apple tree. It was nothing fancy, but he was fond of it. It provided solace from everything, because despite his lack of appearances he did have duties as a prince as every other prince should have.
Much to Astaroth’s displeasure, the girl stopped in a small clearing with a dead tree. Dead trees of course had their appeal, but Astaroth preferred them alive. This particular dead tree should most likely be considered the elder witch’s throne, he guessed.
He carefully stepped passed the boy and girl when the witch smiled at him and bowed deeply.
I thank you, Elder.” he had been hoping it was something else, but his heart was certainly worthy of this blasted pain in his gut and now chest. “I had no idea it would be Gluttony. Now I’ll be able to prepare properly knowing who to expect.” his lack of questions perhaps came as a surprise, but he’d already known that he were likely to be attacked. Although he did have one question. Why his heart? But that would be a question saved for later for the elder spoke again.
Oh? I do hope I didn’t embarrass myself.” he smirked. “I hope I can take it that you know why I’m here then?” he looked towards the boy with a friendly smile when she spoke to him. Perhaps he was an expert on barriers with extensive knowledge of angelic ones. That would certainly make Astaroth more than willing to invite him to his home.

Razorbackwriter:

The Witches Circle.

Watching Esme, Oridin and the visitor – a golem of Astaroth approach the dead tree throne, Lavinia adjusted her posture so she was sitting more regally upon her knotted wood seat. Another raven happened to swoop down from the skies and landed just on the edge of the throne, bowing graciously with its wings spreading before the Supreme Elder. A note was tied to its leg, and while she could hear the one known as Astaroth give thanks for allowing this meeting and also the revelation about Gluttony, Lavinia untied the note and read the contents that were written in a familiar script. The Queen of witches could not hold back the laughter that bubbled up from the very pit of her stomach.

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How odd. There were now two witches that held thrones of the seven kingdoms. Katrina had somehow managed to get the crown from the Princess Sayaka. It was completely unexpected, but there was a silver lining to this latest development. Folding the note, she tucked it into her dress, before returning her attention with a much more somber expression, when Astaroth had mentioned that he had no idea that Gluttony was after him, nor why.

“Now I’ll be able to prepare properly knowing who to expect.”

This statement brought a surprised look from Lavinia. Preparing for the onslaught of a demon Prince like Gluttony was going to be no easy feat, especially with the current upsets that were being caused by the time piece. Astaroth had not been present when the Lord Gluttony had, and missed the change in the Queen of witches herself, from the disruption in magic and time.

“You might have trouble expecting the unexpected.” By this, Lavinia meant that nothing was set in stone. “You see, there has been a shift in powers to many creatures both magical and not. This is more than some simple quest for power. For you see, there is a power that Gluttony cannot control – though he may fail to understand what that is.”

Rising up from her throne, she slowly walked down each step till she was on level ground and was standing before the gathering.

“You suspect I know why you are here.” Lavinia paused and then nodded to both ravens to take flight, before returning her attention to Astaroth. “A deal was done with a Prince who now wears a specific piece known as the right hand of doom.” The Dark one had explained to Lav earlier about what the consequence of this was, and that in order for Gluttony to keep the hand, he must bring a trophy that was worthy.

“The pain you suffer from. The stomach pains, the headaches. Your bodies way of letting you know that you are in danger. A sense that…serves you well.” It had, since the quest for answers to his ailment had brought him to the Witches circle, rather than going to a simple medicine professional.

“The heart that beats so strongly within you, is one of great power. The one that holds that heart in his hand….gets control of not just the heart’s owner…..but everything and more. A proud heart is akin to the heart of the Great Lion.:” If Astaroth was paying attention and closely, he might realize the severity of danger that he was in.

“You have one good thing on your side, aside from those that are honored to serve you till death. There is a time limit on acquiring the heart as the trade. You have six days remaining. I suggest, you return to your kingdom, but….before you do I shall give you a gift.”

This was when she looked to Oridin. The young apprentice mage that had been keeping close to Esme during this meeting, but eager to learn more about the path he was to take.

Lavinia went to a tree that had a large hollow in it and reached inside. She took out three black candles. Each one bore a special marking that was emblazoned as though by fire. She cut her finger and then with her own blood, she let it seep into each candle’s markings infusing them with a certain type of magic. Lavinia called over Oridin to her side as she went to hand him the candles.

“Take these, along with this.” Lavinia took a ring off her own finger, that contained a special stone that was jagged in shape. The black stone was small enough that it was easily carried on one’s person and remain undetected by others.

“Light the three candles at midnight, on the night of a full moon and place them in a triangle formation. The jewel ring should be placed in their center.” Handing the mage the ring, she added;

“Once all the candles and the stone are in place, speak the following words aloud:

Stone of the earth,
Guard my heart with your strength,
Protect it from evil and harm,
That no danger may pass,
No threat draw near.

Smiling at Oridin, she concluded what must be done after the chant. “Extinguish the candles and break them. Then get the Prince of Pride to wear or carry the stone any time he felt the need for added strength and security against an intrusion on his heart.”

The spell explained, Lavinia returned her attention to Astaroth.

“Take Oridin with you on your return and the gift will be put into play. It is the best I can offer you, and the boy will learn much on his travels. At the end of the sixth day, when the time piece has run out, he shall return to our circle and be raised to that of an Elder for his dedication to the craft.”

It would be a win win…surely. She waited with a smile for Astaroth and Oridin to speak.

~RB~

The Naga, the Genie and the Dragon – The Kingdom of Pride : PD

 

Sieg:

 

Kingdom – Pride Castle

 

And finally they were three, the naga, the genie, the dragon, the three listening to each other and their lord in this time of crisis as their worried seemed to be the same. The three of them knew that an attack on the island would be something difficult to fend off from, they all knew that they had no allies outside this walls, and despite their combined power was great enough to rival the the other princes and perhaps even surpass them…what hope did they had if their numbers were smaller? Salem had seem some miracle battles during the ages, but it was among men, they were relatively fair in comparison, battles defined by intelligence, tactics, and not by the power they wielded, if anything such powers were just a trump card. But also something else worried him, something he had felt but not confessed for the sake of their lord…

Perhaps this is unimportant, given how perhaps my sensitivity to this is Master…but I had an strange sensation myself not too long ago

Genies were sensitive to the use of magic, and it was not something that came off as weird or unexpected since themselves were basically some strange incarnation magic itself took. Their power was well known, and even if Salem himself was unable to act as a normal genie should, it did not mean he did not packed the same power within his humble form of what seemed to be an elf that decided to spend his life on the deserts. In any case, the information he withheld was mostly something he found pointless, something that would bother their lord more than anything…but given the circumstances that maybe would help them

As you know already my kin have their own type of connection with magic…and not too long ago I felt an strange shift, something you could consider an small wave in calm water, as if somebody’s sands had been…tampered with

Salem never moved from his spot, as he began to ponder about the situation himself as he did during dinner last night, something that came off as normal due to the genie’s own silent nature when it came to any event that involved food. In the table he rarely uttered a word unless it was to answer something, and even then he always tried to cut himself off from conversations to be able to enjoy his food. Still this explained why half of the food he had remained untouched during the whole ordeal

I did not considered important at the time, but maybe it has some relation with your currents sensations…still finding the link between this two events is what worries me, but again as I said, it’s not so uncommon that such things happened

He placed his own grain on sand on the situation, so to say, as he tried to end by reassuring them that somebody messing with another’s life span, their own sands, was not an uncommon thing. Still one couldn’t stop thinking that it was strange that genies could perceive such thing, given that their own race was technically not capable of dying. As strange as it may have sounded, death for them only meant being later on, a continuous cycle which they were gifted with because of the most powerful of their kinds, creatures strong enough to make other more powerful incarnations of them, Ifrits for instance, tremble in fear at the mere mention of their name. To be able to say that this beings that ruled over all genies were strong enough to shrug off Death itself and defy it and win, was enough to understand where they stood

In any case, why would they decide to attack us now of all times? To our knowledge the other so called rulers were to busy among themselves…why would anyone risk a campaign against us? or even worst, who would be suicidal enough to go through with it?

And he pointed out something logical, despite their clear numeric disadvantage if the kingdoms remained in conflict why would anyone prefer to launch a military offensive against them of all people? They had a good defendable position, one that made up for their numeric disadvantage, and they really had anything really that valuable for them to come and risk their well being for taking. Not to count that they had not only the power of Astaroth defending this place but also a powerful Naga, a Primordial Dragon, and also a Genie…it would take some sort of strange obsessive and desperate reason for anyone to risk their neck in such a way. And it was this logic that Salem tried to use to reassure himself, at least more than the rest, that maybe it was their imagination. In the end while they all were certainly very well capable of death, what Salem feared for was a fate a bit worse in his own case, cause if losing them all, even the Naga who despite their trust issues he considered pleasant enough, wasn’t enough…Salem feared about what would happend if Astaroth was truly defeated. In the end unlike them, he was still bind by his own chains…if Astaroth’s visions were right, if someone came here and succeed in taking this place…sadly slavery would be Salem’s fate. And he wouldn’t go through it again, he couldn’t, he would prefer to turn himself into a mice and ask Alaric to have him as dinner

Razorbackwriter:Kingdom – Pride Castle

It was all easy to speculate. To put meaning to dreams, or to associate sickening feelings with the dread of impending danger. The Prince needed to have his wits about him, not be further stirred by the likes of Salem – who unknowingly was only adding weight to the Prince’s suspicions and thoughts. The nagas took to slinking into the background, as the arrival of the Prince’s other companion – Orimitsu. The Primordial dragon was known in all the realms for his enormous power and his intelligence was not something to be ignored. In fact, Alaric was hardly surprised by the Prince’s warm welcome to the dragon. Alaric simply nodded in Orimitsu’s direction and allowed him to speak freely. Especially when he mentioned about already having spies moving about in the outer realms on his orders. The nagas was on the money that intel was the best answer currently to confirm the harrowing thoughts that someone was planning to do the Prince in.

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Of course, Salem was not ready to give up in issuing further concerns and even questioned as to who might want to harm the Prince of Pride. The nagas may not have had the insight to read the minds of others, or see into the future – but he was more than happy to allay the Prince’s fears one way or another.

“Who needs a reassson to attack? I asssk you. We are dealing with the other six sins and all of them are unpredictable and at sssome point, mad enough to attack another realm without warning. Take Wrath for example. It isss sssaid that Mammon, the Prince of Greed went after that realm sssimply because a woman took the throne. Isss there any clear logic to that? No…..none whatsssoever.”

The Nagas was trying to make a point, and continued, though he wanted to make one thing completely clear to all in attendance.

“This issland casstle is a virtual fortress dessigned to make invassion incredibly difficult for any army. Not only that, you…my Lord are guarded perssonally by three of the mosst deadly creaturess in all the realms. I won’t sspeak for the othersss, but I will gladly lay down my life for you……and I will take a good number with me, sshould any dare to try and mount an offenssive.”

Alaric looked to Salem and Orimitsu to see them both swear to lay down their lives to protect the Prince….come what may. Kiri:

Kingdom – Pride Castle
Ah Orimitsu loved hearing the optimism of Salem so very well, and with the Prince having his knickers in a twist, things couldn’t get much more annoying to the Dragon; however, he wasn’t in the mood to really deal with the idiocy that would follow, and he didn’t understand the need to point out the fact that it wasn’t understandable as to why someone would target them. Since when did anyone in Hell care enough to make sense at all? Orimitsu sure as hell didn’t, he was a dragon, he did as he pleased and nothing more; however loyal he may be. Orimitsu was going to have to take Alaric’s side this time around.

“As Alaric said, they don’t need a reason… this is Hell, no one cares for sense.”

Orimitsu was being blunt about that fact, and wasn’t afraid to do it again if he so needed to do so, but it didn’t change the fact he wasn’t about to show mercy to the idiots that may challenge Pride. While Astaroth may be a child at heart and be the worst embodiment of Pride in the history of this damned kingdom, Orimitsu wasn’t the type to give loyalty without reason and his was slowly wearing thin. Perhaps that is what brought on his next words in response to Alaric.

“While I am loyal and ready to defend him, Alaric, make no mistake about my character; if Astaroth, if you, show any weakness. I will not hesitate to kill you.”

Tory:

Kingdom – Pride Castle
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Pride castle throne room

“A wave?” he sat up with his attention directed at Salem. He was aware of the connection genies had to magic, but he’d thought Salem’s connection was weak due to his situation. Perhaps the magical disturbance was that of such massive proportions that no genie would go without feeling it. Or Astaroth had simply been wrong. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time and probably not the last.
He stood up again and placed his hand softly on Salem’s shoulder in an absent minded gesture as his mind had already wandered off to think of what might cause this shift Salem mentioned. He quickly drew his hand off the genie’s shoulder as he was walking towards Alaric and Orimitsu.
“Alaric, friend,” he stopped by his side with a smile, “The day I ask any of you to die for me will be the day the me now would consider myself truly fallen. If that ever comes to happen, I wish Orimitsu take my life and the three of you move on to your own lives.” he turned to face Salem. “That day you will be free at last. I’ll somehow find a way to free you once your contract with me ends.” he said before spinning his body around to take the last remaining steps to Orimitsu. Knowing the dragon’s dislike for his antics, Astaroth took those steps in a bouncy manner and ended with his hands on the dragon’s shoulders as he moved around him as if he were dancing.
“My dear friend, Orimitsu, I pray-“ he stopped himself. He’d come to dislike most words relating to the heavens since he’d been thrown out. Sometimes he avoided them like the plague, other times he just frowned at the sound of them. On rarer occasion he used them himself and usually managed to bring himself down by doing so. “I hope,” he corrected himself. “That the day you need to kill me never comes.” he winked on his way back to his throne.
“No, I’m not surprised someone is coming. It is just the manner of which I am feeling and the vision that bothers me. I expected this would happen once I was given the title of pride and I’m rather surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.” he sighed and let himself fall down on the top of the three steps leading to his throne. “But it seems like these demons take more issue with women than they do with angels.” he shook his head. “It has been very long since I stopped trying to understand them and began trying to live in their world.” which wasn’t so difficult since he lived on top of a hill on an island surrounded by deep waters that could very well be considered an ocean in the human world. Not to mention the water dwellers and forty legions he had on land. Neither were many but all were powerful enough for Astaroth to consider him safe with them.
“Orimitsu… You scout, what are you sending him after?” he asked, in thought.

Sieg:
Kingdom – Pride Castle
Even in chaos there is always something that starts it all, a motivation of sorts that I’m sure any creature down here would require to do something like this…and trust me, sometimes even among other beings, in other times and places sense and logic become a luxury

He answered back at them, still firmly believing that even behind any action, there had to be always a reaction and always a reason for said reason. He did not said it to those two, not to anyone, but it was the way he was raised, the way he explained the unfortunate incident that happened to him…even in madness there had to be a semblance of order just like in order itself was chaos…or so the genie tried to believe, just to justify what has been asked off him during this many ages, by both Astaroth and all of his master

And don’t worry Alaric, it won’t have to come to death if they reach our shores with that intentions…in the end I don’t have a life to lay down in the line, but I do have something much more terrible waiting for any attacker that come this way…in the end I don’t take kindly when my place of residence, or the ones of my allies is threatened

He did not promised something he couldn’t give, he knew well that genies were not cursed with a real sense of death, and he was sure Alaric knew this as well. The genies did perished, but for them perishing was nothing more than a mere step back, a return to the sands just for them to rise again in another form…painful indeed, but giving them a semblance of eternity. Nevertheless, despite this condition Salem would still defend Astaroth for as long as this incarnation of him lasted, for he knew allies were not normal now days, and friends were even more rare and valuable. So he stood there, tensing himself as he felt a hand on his shoulder and listened to what his master had to say

I just hope he is right…going back to a life of servitude like the one I had…I doubt I could continue with it, without losing myself in it

The genie remained as usual, only nodding as he watched them with the same calm and yet serious expression that was always upon his head even the day the merchant arrived to sell him. It was a trait that everyone had to admit that was impressive, that no matter what his expression would remain unchanged and he would keep worried and pain deep inside, but it was a trait that came with age for him. Nobody in this domain knew what he had gone through, especially in this room, since he was sure that both Alaric and Orimitsu in his position would have lay swift death to any of the masters that Salem had on the past as soon as they bothered them enough, but he did not enjoyed that luxury. The life of slave he hated, it took away much of him only to leave a hollow shell of a former being free as the winds, and it was strange that at the mention of his freedom he reacted so poorly, but it was not his or Astaroth fault. He was happy, but also afraid like nobody else in this room…in the end if they ever failed for them death awaited…but for him…it was a lifetime of slavery again, something much worse, and humiliating altogether

He might had felt some sort of inferiority complex…below the waist Master, in the end many of those who have power do it in those situations…they feel castrated when someone they consider lower do their task just as they do, or even better

He pulled off a joke, now of all times, and about that of all things…but always remaining his calm tone and serious expression as he decided to be silent for now, trying to hear what Orimitsu had to say. He knew of the cunning this creature had, so it was no surprise his spies were crawling around outside, in the end by this point every single one of the people in the room had some way to know about the events on the outside, or at least, part of the events anyways

Razorbackwriter:Kingdom – Pride Castle

Alaric had only so much patience that he could muster during this meeting with the Prince. But after a while that was starting to wear paper thin. He didn’t wish to blurt out and say it, but it was already feeling like someone had in fact died, and they were at a wake. Why not just raise the black flags now and begin the period of mourning? Alaric had tried to use sense and logic to allay the Prince’s thoughts, but it had now gone way beyond that, and though Astaroth was waiting on word from Orimitsu about his spies, the naga decided that the time for talking had long since passed. As much as he would rather be in his secluded hideaway meditating, he knew that they had to prepare for war. Not stand around speaking platitudes as they waited their fate.

Raising up, with his massive coils now moving to gain him extra height, the Naga could not hold back any longer.

“We could sstay here all day and sspeak of possible threats and impending invassions, and that to me is like sitting on one’s handss. I say that we become pro active. If this really is an island fortress, we put her to the test. Get her ready.”

It was like the Naga was tired of the social niceties, and wanted the Prince to man up. To stop lounging on that all too comfortable throne and be entertained by his servants as though he was a boy at the circus. The Naga would be the first to make his move.

“I shall start by going to the blacksmiths and seeing that our armies will be well equipped, and what is needed. It would be better for me to do my job and ensure that the army is ready for any sort of attack.”

At this, the Naga bowed, and excused himself.

“M’lord….Salem…Orimitsu.” He acknowledged each in turn, before slithering out of the room – his long tail taking a while to actually leave the throne room completely. This would leave the three remaining to talk about battle strategies, and what news….if any from the dragon’s spy network.

https://i0.wp.com/i.gyazo.com/023982e20e7aacf92a838b3e1db8192f.png~RB~ 

The Kingdom of Pride – A Royal Pain : PD

Kingdom – Pride Castle

 

The Castle of Pride is situated on its own island in the middle of a vast lake in Hell.

Tory:
Kingdom – Pride Castle
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Pride castle throne room

Astaroth was bored. In fact, he was extremely bored. But despite that, he was anxious as well. The pain in his stomach still hadn’t left and was slowly spreading up to his chest. He didn’t consider it a good sign. Chest pains were usually never good.
But the boredom, there was nothing to do. He’d already ordered his legions to prepare and informed the serpents in his waters about the possible invasion that might be coming sometime soon or later or whenever. All he could do was let them know that they should expect it. He could give little else. He’d already made sure that his subjects wouldn’t visit with their small scale problems of land or fish or marriage or cheating. He was regretting that decision. He definitely wouldn’t be this bored if he hadn’t. He might’ve even had fun and forgot the pain in his stomach a little.
The pain. It had started a few days ago and Astaroth had no idea why. All he knew he was hit in the head with the memory of that one rather annoying and painful vision at the same time it started. He suspected it was more than a happy coincidence.
At the moment, he was sitting in his throne. A lavish chair on a small pedestal framed with curtains that Astaroth could fell every time he closed his castle for commoners. He was a nice prince, so he didn’t do it very often. He knew he needed to socialise with his people to have them like him to follow him.
The throne room itself wasn’t all that big. It was really just a small part of the castle. Astaroth liked sitting in his throne simply because of the chair’s comfortableness, so he’d made sure the throne room wouldn’t be too large so that sitting alone in there wouldn’t be weird. The size of the room also kept the echoes to a minimum. There was nothing more awkward than the clanking of shoe or boot soles against the tiled floor while a person walked a long way in silence towards a seat with everyone else’s eyes on them. Astaroth had had a bigger throne room before. It was a big mistake. He’d changed rooms pretty quickly. Now the old throne room was a ball room and he had a new, much more comfortable, one.
He was lying in his throne. Sort of. His cape and his stomach were crinkled and Astaroth was making funny faces to pass the time. Funny faces could only keep him occupied for so long though and soon he was covering his face with his hands and complaining loudly.
“There’s nothing to do~!” usually there weren’t echoes, but Astaroth had moved the curtains so that they didn’t prevent the echo like they normally did when they were down around the sides. He’d done that for the complaining. Since he was alone in the room, he could laugh about the echoes as a child would. Boredom brought his humour down a few levels.
He giggled like a school girl when the sounds bounced of the walls and back to him. One might think he was far beyond normal drunkenness by now. But he had had nothing to drink.

Sieg:
Kingdom – Pride Castle
It was a good day for Salem, in fact it was a great day for the genie as he was inside his little pocket dimension, a little world within this one. He basicly finished his duties for the day last night, setting his a few defenses, changing a few things from the castle, a few from the island, so right now he was in his little island. Call him weird for basicly turning his own pocket dimension into an small tropical island in the middle of the sea with a house right in the middle, but honestly, why would he care? He was a genie, this was his world, and if you said something bad he could turn you into a toilet and leave you in the beach until you left…in fact he did it to someone once…

Hmph…there is nothing interesting today…

He basicly sat on a chair in his own private beach, enjoying how the sun didn’t burned his skin and just kept things at the right temperature as Salem was reading a newspaper written in some weird and strange lenguage. Quite honestly if he actually resorted to reading a newspaper from his own realm to relax, one could tell how restless he felt. He needed to kill time, but quite honestly doing it alone proved to be boring…and trust me…he tried everything by this point, a few things that made him want to bury his head in the sand by remembering them. Funny enough his salvation came in the shape of a mirror that floated next to him, showing him the events at the castle

…if he having some sort of seizure?…

It’s all he could say as he stared a what Pride was doing as he groaned and shook his head, quite honestly, from all the masters he had this one was a rival for the title of most random and childish…but, he figured that this was better than him freaking out. Ever since he had that vision things got weird in the castle so…this was bound to happend. But he figured the little girl giggling would happend after he won the battle…but, at least he wasn’t mad or yelling around, that was good. Still, he figured he might want to drop by and stop him before somebody sees what he is doing

Might aswell embarrass him a little…heh…

Salem stood up from his chair, stretching a bit as he snapped his fingers and some strings of magic sand going across his body later he went from just sitting there on his boxers to be wearing his usual attire. The next thing to do was clean up, again he was a genie and in his own world he was king so…an snap of his fingers fixed this. With that done he stretched again, placing his usual poker face as he just vanished from here. As for where he would appeard, he decided to do it next to Astaroth throne, basicly his form appearing from air as a few grains of golden sand floated around him only to vanish later. And as it was usual for him he kept an straight face accompanied with a polite tone…holding himself back from laughing at this little display

Master…what might you be doing if you don’t mind me asking?

Aside from laughing like an overexcited school girl that is…heh…

The last part, a through that he forced to the back of his head only to don’t laugh, as he watched Astaroth, hoping the prince wouldn’t do anything even weirder that would cause the genie to break the mask and just laugh. He had a bet with another servant that he could spend at least the next hundred years without a single solitary giggle coming out from him and he damn well expected to win it!

Razorbackwriter:Kingdom – Pride Castle

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Another part of the castle that was shielded by giant trees, was a sacred place where Alaric came to meditate and reflect. It also gave him the solitude he needed to think. Deep beneath the forest green foliage there was various statues, that were in a circular formation, the center of which had a large symbol that was made out of stone, but the spaces between were covered in a fine moss. In the midst of this setting, Alaric was seated. However only part of him was in a human form, the rest was that of a large coiled snake. The size of the coils was colossal, and so richly coloured he was truly a magnificent sight. He wore on his torso nothing but a silken vest that was adorned with metallic designs that ran along the edges. Most notable was the large jewel centerpiece that was embedded in his forehead.

With his elbows pointed outwards, his palms touching together – fingertips in perfect alignment, he was the embodiment of spiritual energy and reflection. Alaric chanted in a whispered hush with his eyelids closed. The edges of his eyelids eyes were painted with a black dye, that set off his dark skin. It was more than just sun kissed. Alaric enjoyed receiving the filtered rays of light that came down through the gaps in the trees and illuminated his entire being.

There was nothing Alaric liked more than this moments of seclusion, where nothing or no one could disturb his peaceful state of mind. Nagas were usually solitary creatures, so it was unusual for him to serve a Master. But then again, there was no other Prince of Hell quite like Astaroth. Alaric had been in the Princes service for as long as he could remember. His right hand man, one could say as the Prince of Pride had a soft spot for serpents and creatures of his nature.

A day like any other. That is how it started and the religious practice of meditation was going as per normal. That was until the sounds filtered through from the palace that someone was up.

“There’s nothing to do~!”

Slowly, one eyelid opened and the eye darted to the direction to which the sound came from. Alaric stopped his chant and lowered his hands to his sides, while he turned his torso towards the palace proper. The owner of that voice was well known to the nagas, and he knew now that his morning ritual was over. Only a fool would keep the Prince waiting, when he had obviously opened his curtains in the main throne room to alert all of his boredom.

“No ressst for the wicked.” Alaric thought as he raised up like a king cobra and then began to slither from his sacred site to make his way towards the palace as quickly as he could.

On arrival, it seemed someone else had beaten the nagas to the punch. he could hear his questioning tone as he slid in through the doors. Oh….it was the Genie. Trust him to be at the Prince’s side so soon.

Master…what might you be doing if you don’t mind me asking?

“I was about to asssk the sssame thing, Sssalem.” Alaric’s tongue slithered out each time he said ‘s’, his eyes narrowing to slits as he stared at the all too stony faced Genie. He often thought there was a lot more to that creature and would be wise not to take him at face value. Truth was, the nagas didn’t trust him one bit. Then again, he didn’t trust many at all. Trust, like respect had to be earnt.

The Nagas bowed ever so politely, as its long tail took its good time in entering the room completely.

“Your Highnesssss.” Alaric was always one for being direct. “Found a sssmall lump in the cussshion of your comfy throne?’ ~RB~

An Excellent Opportunity – SS

Scene setting : Pride castle.

co-written with Temp, Moo, and Nhal.

 

Temp:  The card quickly made its way into Astaroth’s hand as a guard took it to him. Apparently there was a way to get his hands on a secondary source of warriors. Normally he would only allow warriors that impress him join his forces, which was the reason behind his army being so powerful. There wasn’t a single member of his army that he couldn’t be proud of. However, hiring an outside source meant that this process would be overlooked. It seemed there was little choice in the matter, if he wanted to increase his forces that is. “Go there, tell the Doctor he works for me now…I will supply him with corpses of a quality he’s never before seen. I’ll expand his workplace. Whatever it takes. I will of course compensate you for this…Oh and one last thing…make sure he knows this isn’t a request.” He would supply the Doctor with ‘unique’ bodies as well as bolster his working environment, so long as the Doctor responded correctly. If his order was denied he would…pay him a visit.

 

Razorbackwriter:  No sooner had Astaroth taken the card, the Prince of Prides mind was made up. Not only would he supply the Doctor with a never ending source of quality corpses, but the Lab would now work solely for him and Pride Kingdom. No ifs no buts. This was to be relayed by the Ambassador and at haste. Valmont took the Prince seriously and bowed in a sign of respect that he understood the directives. He would receive payment for this messenger service, but it was all part and parcel of keeping in well with the Prince of Pride.

“I shall be certain to relay your orders to the letter, and that the good Doctor is well aware that he is to accept or lose an exceptional opportunity.” It was one thing for certain, that the Ambassador had ways of being not only discreet, but also clever in enforcing the wishes of others.

Knowing that the Prince of Pride did not like to be bothered about other trivial matters, the Ambassador bade his farewells.

“When the Doctor accepts, I shall send a raven to inform you of such good news, My Lord Pride. Till then…” The Ambassador snapped his heels together, then spun around and marched smartly out of the throne room. His next port of call would not be a Prince or Princess of Hell, but to find the Doctor and tell him of his good fortune.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Astaroth watched as the Ambassador departed his Kingdom, fully confident in this new development. His army was already a thing of perfection, but adding creatures that were hand crafted for battle would further bolster his forces. Based on the unknown factors of who else Gabriel could be allied with, the possibility of a march into her Kingdom was very small. Mammon had made that mistake already, and he definitely didn’t plan on ending up like him. Instead of doing anything aggressive he would simply recover and bolster his defenses. It wouldn’t take all that long for his power to fully replenish, and when that time finally came he would immediately begin training. Just like in the past, he would spend every waking moment growing his power and his Kingdom, his pride. No matter what Gabriel or anybody else did, they could never take his pride.

 

Moo:  Ysera moved through the kingdom via the air…a better transport than any other. Her full dragon size began to shrink while she neared the castle, morphing to her humanoid form while she began to lower to the ground. With her wings being the last to go, she dropped onto the ground with a soft thud, and moved forward toward her Lord’s throne room without a moment’s hesitation. She had been hibernating underground for quite some time…and within hearing of the mayhem, she had been awoken quite unpleasantly. Needless to say, the informant laid in a heap of bones, the rest having been devoured. Ysera didn’t take well to being woken prematurely, as spoiled as she was.

The female walked through the doors as they were opened by guards. The kingdom’s uproar seemed to have quieted during her Lord’s time of healing. That much was good news. Strutting along the corridor, she finally came to a stop several feet from the throne, falling to her knee with her hand over her chest before the one and only Astaroth; the only person she would consider to be above herself. Peculiar pink hues lifted to take in the sight of the regal prince. “You look well,” she remarked. “My Lord.”

 

Temp:  Astaroth had been recovering for a decent amount of time thus far, but was still not up to 100% strength. The majority of his generals had already been addressed and ordered to do various things. The top priority was bolstering their defenses in preparation for any sort of attack. As powerful as the other Kingdoms were, there was no way one could just punch through Prides front lines of defense. Now that he had a contract with Hell’s Kitchen, as well as a possible ally in Lust, his position of power was nothing but furthered. It had taken quite a bit to push Astaroth back in that battlefield alone. The addition of his army would bring about mass destruction to anyone that opposed him. For now though, he would regain his strength and keep a watch on the happenings in the rest of Hell. The masquerade ball was something he was well aware of, but attending such an event in his condition would be foolish. Eventually he was greeted by Ysera, who showed her respect as usual, and as expected. “Hilarious as always Ysera, but I feel far from well…this will change in time, as you know…and then we will train until I become stronger.”His demon dragon form needed to become something he used only if he had to. His normal form was still formidable, but nowhere near the power of his demonic form.

 

Moo:  Ysera gave her Lord a meek smile, slowly standing once again. “You’re nearly well,” she remarked. As consoling as the words could have been, her tone was lacking…but that was normal for the woman. Her hands clasped behind her back in a formal manner. “I will be grateful to train with you.” She nodded as she spoke, her gaze set over Astaroth. “It would do me well… I’ve been sleeping far too long.” Normally, it would have been longer. But nobody was as talented as Ysera when it came to battle. She instructed Pride’s forces to do nothing more than obtain victory, while taking minimal losses. Of course, there were months at a time when another general took over her position. This one had failed, and would receive a pleasant visit from the draconian female. Order was a necessity in this kingdom, and she would not fail to deliver it. “That fool, Mammon…” She scoffed, closing her eyes as she turned her head. The woman’s arms crossed under her chest. “Had he not rushed into battle in a single day, he may have been able to overpower Gabriel.” Her pink hues slid over to gaze at her Lord when she finally opened her eyes, looking displeased. “If I may, my Lord… Why did you rush in with him?”

 

Nhal:  I would hope that you aren’t getting soft Astaroth… I hate that shitty movie cliche of some weak kneed politician hiring someone to do his dirty work for him.” A thick string of black smoke whisped into the room as the voice echoed softly, making a dark black cloud in the room. The cloud lingering, Anarchy stepped out from its blackness, causing the thick cloud to immediately disperse and disappear. The heavy metal boots of Anarchy thumped against the floor as he proceeded, walking closer to the pair. Anarchy’s face was hidden behind his white mask, his armored left hand holding a burlap sack, and his hair neatly tied back while his cloak fluttered softly at his pace.

 

Temp:  Astaroth remained relatively still and calm as Ysera spoke to him. He wasn’t surprised that she was curious about his reasons for joining Mammon in battle, in fact he had expected it. Going in without your army was never a widely accepted strategy, but he had multiple reasons for doing so. “I mostly wanted to find out who Gabriels allies were, and was rather surprised by how many she had…Lucifer himself spared my life.” Not that he was proud of that fact. Regardless, he had discovered quite a of information. He honestly hadn’t expected Anarchy to show up anytime soon, nor was he expecting him to speak in such a disrespectful way. His eyes narrowed as he glared at the being, clearly not pleased by his words. There was no reason to cause an issue right now, considering his condition, but Ysera could handle things. “Handle this Ysera, I’m in no mood for this.” Keeping calm furthered his healing process considerably.

 

 

 

He that is proud eats up himself: pride is his own glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle – SS.

Scene setting : Pride Kingdom

co-written with Temp.

 

Temp:  Astaroth appeared sitting upon his throne, seemingly out of nowhere. He had just returned from the battle between the armies of Greed and Wrath. There was a great deal of disturbing occurrences during the battle, all of which were now being analyzed in his mind. Gabriel had somehow managed to get a variety of unique followers within an extremely short amount of time, for seemingly no logical reason. Both the armies of Greed and Wrath were stricken with mass casualties. Mammon, the Prince of Greed himself, fell in battle. Astaroth would likely have joined him if Lucifer himself hadn’t stepped in. This meant that he owed him, which wasn’t something he was happy about. Better to owe a favor than to die though, right? Normally retreating would have shaken someone like him down to the core, rattling his pride heavily at it’s core. However, he had made it clear to himself that there was simply no other choice. It still stung a tad, having to retreat, but there was no winning that fight. A one on one fight with Gabriel, now that would have been different…right? He had taken a lot of damage during the fight in his demonic form. Perhaps joining the fight in that form immediately was the wrong move. Next time he would fight in his normal form, or perhaps learn a condensed version of that form. There was a clear advantage in having multiple forms, as it put him into a position of having different phases of damage, vitality, stamina, etc. His pride in himself was not arrogance, it was something that was a fact. He refused to accept himself, or anything in his army that he couldn’t be proud of. It seemed his current capabilities weren’t sufficient enough, which meant he would have to continue training.

His wounds, along with the clothing that he wore, began to heal and return to normal while he sat on his throne. Healing his wounds wouldn’t take very long, but recovering from his transformation would. He was well aware that he would not be in fighting form for several days, but he refused to sit and fester. “Send me a General, immediately!” His words were loud and piercing, and would surely attract the attention of his servants. Eventually his order was obeyed, and a servant presented his lord with one of his many Generals. “Bolster the defenses, hire more spies…saboteurs…assassins…everything…I want scouts patrolling every hour…any spies in the dungeons and caught from here on out are to be executed…no more questioning. Kill any and all that are suspicious. Make me proud.” The General knew better than to question his lord and master, and bowed his head in total agreement. Astaroth knew damn well that the army of Pride was by far the most highly trained and powerful, as he would not accept anything less. Still, there was always room for improvement and more willing and able souls. There was no telling what awaited him in the future, so for now he would prepare and recover…and after…he would do anything necessary to become stronger. He now had a mission, a purpose. Kill Gabriel and all her followers.

 

Razorbackwriter:  

https://i1.wp.com/adala-news.fr/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Shishaku-Valmont-Kiken-na-Kankei-T.2.jpg

The Ambassador decided his next port of call on his mission to tour the Seven kingdoms of Hell would be none other than that of the Castle Pride. Already well aware of the fact that it was Lucifer that dealt the hand of fate to save Astaroth from Gabriel’s blade, the Ambassador was sure that the Prince of Pride would be wounded…both morally and physically. Of course he could heal himself, over time but no doubt he would seek vengeance against Gabriel and her supporters. The interesting thing was, the Ambassador served HELL, not any individual kingdom. He ensured that there was a balance in that those that needed to know the current state of affairs of each other’s kingdoms were told. What was interesting was the shift in the balance, from the Seven Princes to now….five with two Princesses taking the place of Belial and Mammon.

Ah yes Mammon. The Prince of Greed who uncharacteristically rode into the Castle Wrath as though his tail was on fire, and died tragically….and all too soon. Felled…by a woman…and betrayed by a woman. There was a connection between the rise of the two Princesses and one that the Prince of Pride was sure to need to know.

Having already paid a visit to the court of Envy and seeing for himself how women again were clamoring at the feet of the current Prince, Leviathan, the Ambassador was almost certain that there may well be….another change in power. Jealousy was a powerful Master. If one woman was scorned, because Leviathan chose to lay with the other that adored…who knows what she could do. All this was of course speculation….for now.

The black carriage arrived at the main gates of the Castle of Pride and a footman jumped off the back of the carriage and strode up towards the guards on duty. He would hand over the seal of the Vicomte de Valmont as an address for a meeting with his royal Highness the Prince of Pride. If the guards allowed the carriage passage inside, it would roll on through to the inner court yard, where Valmont would alight and await to be escorted up to the main hall.

 

~RB~

 

Temp:  Astaroth had been doing nothing but resting in his Throne since he arrived in his Kingdom. His transformation had taken it’s tole on his body, and his mind was in a bit of a strange place. He would fix his position in his throne as he was informed by a guard of the Ambassador’s arrival. What the man was doing here he did not know, as Astaroth had already known about Gabriel for a while now. Still, it was worth checking out…just in case.

The guards at the gates would escort the Ambassador all the way to the castle, as well as bring him inside. The Ambassador was brought into the Throne room, which was actually rather occupied at the moment. Astaroth’s most powerful and highly trained warriors filled the room, they were his Royal Guard. He looked down at the Ambassador with an annoyed look, but not due to any hatred he had for the man. He was simply not in a good mood was all. “Valmont…I trust you have a good reason for being here.” He was not in the mood for company, but he would put up with this meeting…for now.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Surrounded by the Royal guard and many other warriors of note, the Ambassador of Hell bowed before the Prince of Pride, who had a rather annoyed look upon his face. One was to expect that Astaroth would be in a bad mood after the failure at Wrath and who could blame him. Valmont certainly couldn’t. One thing that the Ambassador noted was that unlike the Prince of Envy who was surrounded by women and one very over protective guard, was that this was a court made up mostly of men. In truth, this was how Valmont liked it. Yes, he was the Demon of Seduction and perversion but he knew that when against women, you could never ever really trust them. Like what was happening in Hell at the moment. Did Belial have any inkling that his own love would behead him? Word was that she killed her son too. That meant she wanted no competition. She was true to her nature, and that is what made her all the more dangerous.

“Valmont…I trust you have a good reason for being here.”

“Indeed I have, my Lord Pride.” Valmont was curt in his response, knowing full well that the Prince would not favour any dilly dallying on his part. So, he got right to the point of his visit.

“As you know, the balance of power from men in the seats of thrones is changing. Gabriel being the first. And you are most likely aware, that Mammon acted…out of character at the battle of Wrath castle.” The Ambassador said, turning his head to look up at the Prince with a serious expression. “Mammon had been betrayed, my Lord Pride. His own Lady of Ambition tricked him into wearing Beserker. The armor was the reason that Mammon….fell so prematurely.”

Now, the Prince of Pride would have known that Mammon acted almost insane in his attack on Gabriel. Without care for his own life. Odd…really.

“So, now there is a woman as head of Greed. But…that is not the end of it.”

This is where the intelligence of the Ambassador would come in truly useful. “I have just been to see Leviathan – the Prince of Envy, and turns out he has a little female problem of his own. Two women are vying for his affection, another too sick to compete….BUT….after the fall of Belial and Mammon to women…it’s a matter of time before Leviathan does as well.”

“Leviathan still wishes Gabriel’s favors and is a staunch supporter. As for Baal, well….I dare say he is licking his stump. Having lost his arm to Mammon. The same Prince he betrayed for Gabriel.”

There was a pattern emerging, if the Prince of Pride chose to see it. The Ambassador went into the final act of his intel collection.

“Of the five remaining princes, two are aligned with Wrath….and Gabriel may think highly of Lady Lydia for her wicked plot against Mammon. That would be three against you….my Lord. Sloth is silent for now….but then there is Lust….”

His voice trailed off at the mention of the other Princes…as he was sure that all this was sinking in. “It’s no doubt that each have aspirations for greatness. Question is….who do you trust?”

~RB~

 

Temp:  Astaroth sat rather calmly in his throne, though if one was to pay close enough attention they would see the anger on his face growing. It hit an all time high when it was revealed that Mammon had been betrayed…by yet another woman. His teeth grinded together as he thought back on the battle. Mammon did have on an unusual set of armor…and his actions…they were psychotic indeed. There was no reason to doubt Valmont in this regard, as he was one to witness it. The mention of Leviathan was one that angered him as well, due to his alliance with Gabriel. It seemed he was also surrounded by women. Female ambition was at an all time high apparently, but such a thing was absent in the kingdom of Pride. Finding a suitable female was no easy task for Astaroth. It seemed that was probably a damn good thing. “Women…dangerous creatures…” There were none in his Kingdom that were close to him, but they were still present. He had no reason to fear these females, but if any of them were important to him…this would be a time where his guard would rise. Thankfully, the female issue would be one he wouldn’t be involved in. Now there were two Princesses and even more alliances would likely surface. Lucifer himself had saved Astaroth, surely there was some bigger reason for this. In terms of allies, Astaroth really didn’t have any. “Who do I trust? Nobody but myself.” None of his guards made a single comment or even moved an inch at his words. It really wasn’t something that was hidden after all. “From what I can see…the only choice I have is to ally with other kingdoms…or hire an outside force.” This shit was really getting on his nerves, and it was beginning to show. His anger was rising by the minute, while his body continued to heal. When he was back at full strength…he would have to do everything necessary to increase his power.

 

Razorbackwriter:  Everything was going just as Valmont anticipated. The news was causing the Prince of Pride to grind his teeth menacingly, and he was in agreeance that it was the women of hell that were doing all the damage to the status-quo. “Women…dangerous creatures…”The Prince of Pride uttered, and to this, Valmont simply nodded. Yes, it was sinking in and all truth. Valmont had no reason to lie, for the truth was far more devious. As for who Astaroth trusted, he trusted no body but himself. You couldn’t really blame him for that.

“Well understood, my Lord Pride.”

The race for alliances was on. No doubt Leviathan and Gabriel were both on the move. Lady Lydia had yet to make her move officially, but that would come in good time. Valmont was sure of it.

“From what I can see…the only choice I have is to ally with other kingdoms…or hire an outside force.”

Now here was something interesting. Ally with other kingdoms outside of hell…trust the other remaining princes….or hire an outside force.

“Why hire one….when you can buy one.” The Ambassador said, before pulling out a card from his jacket and then offering it to a guard to give to the Prince. If he read it, it would be a card for none other than Hell’s Kitchen – The laboratory.

“Word has it that the good Doctor is making…an army of super soldiers. His assistant, the hunchback Igor was down at the battlefield gathering bodies of the dead from the war of Wrath. Harvesting them….for the purpose of reanimation and perfecting them. It’s one way of getting a leg up on the other kingdoms if you….have the primary contract for the first battalion.”

The Ambassador waited to see what the Prince of Pride thought of this.

~RB~

The point of no return – SS

 

Scene setting : Wrath Castle

This story is co-written with five other writers; Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle and Fu.

 

Temp:  The battlefield, if you could still call it that, was a nightmare becoming reality. Blood and bodies littered the floor. Lost limbs and organs bounced around among the soldiers feet. Fallen weapons bounced about and stabbed those that fell or stepped in the wrong direction. Cannon fire blew living and already dead soldiers into bits. Arrows pierced everything in sight. The ‘battlefield’…was a fucking mess.

Astaroth narrowed his vision and spotted the pesky warlocks that were doing everything they could to contain his Magma creatures. Now that he caught sight of them, he began repeating his earlier attacks at the battlefield, but instead focused on the warlocks. He hurled the Black magma fireballs at every single one he could see, blowing them up mid-cast. This of course created more Magma creatures, which were now devouring all they could find within the inner walls. He hadn’t followed the actions of the warrior that had tried to fight him earlier, but he eventually took notice of him. Whatever the warrior was doing, was definitely…different. Though, he still really didn’t care about this warrior, as he was busy dealing with the more pressing issues. While one warrior of immense strength was definitely a problem, he would never put a one-on-one fight before taking out the main forces.

Eventually some of the forces of Wrath decided to try and attack him, hurling spears and arrows and even directing cannon fire at him. The thick scaled skin that he possessed made all these attacks bounce off, almost like what they were using against him were nothing but toys. His loud and blood curdling laughter could be heard throughout the battlefield. As messy and screwed up as this fight was…it was still amusing. He figured that if he had actually marched here with his army, they would have won fairly quickly. That of course would have meant he wouldn’t have been able to make a surprise appearance and have any fun though…so maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Upon catching a glimpse of Mammon, he felt a slightly disturbing feeling…was this worry? The Prince of Greed was not exactly acting like his usual self. What was the cause of this exactly? Baal’s betrayal could have been a possibility, but that seemed like it was just a piece of the puzzle. Whatever it was that was causing Mammon to act so strangely would have to remain a mystery. Fearing that The Prince of Greed was losing his grip on the actual battle, Astaroth decided that it would be best to get closer to him. He pressed off of the tower that he had been grasping onto, breaking the building into bits which fell down onto the soldiers below. As he flew through the air, he aimed his massive body at an area behind Mammon, obviously not wanting to turn him into a pancake. Before he landed he cleared his landing zone of anything in the way using his Black fireballs. As soon as Astaroth made contact with the ground, the ground below and around him would break apart and fling into the battlefield around him, causing more death. Now on the ground, the Magma began to drip down from his mouth, creating more creatures as he began to stomp forward. Anything that got in his way was immediately eaten and blown to bits by his Magma creatures, paving a clear path towards Mammon.

 

Candle:  

Baal listened to what Mammon had to say and let out a deafening laugh. It was a very deep and disturbing laugh that would make any sane person cower in fear. With a soldier in his gigantic hand, he bit off the head and chewed on it like a piece of beef jerky.
The chewing noise made some soldiers get sick to there stomach and run away, but the blood flowing down the back of his throat made him release pleasurable moans. His muscles in his arms tightened a little bit more and his arms gained mass. At this point Baal looked like a massive tank. “I will rip the hide from your back and eat it in front of you! Replying back to Mammon as the path was now cleared.
With the magma creatures exploding and clearing out the people in front of his target, Baal stared down the man who was sort of his friend. He tolerated Mammon but from time to time, there was thoughts of murdering this pretentious prick. Except now he could actually murder him and be as disgusting as he wanted. Maybe if he actually did kill Mammon he’d skin his face off and wear it just to be even scarier than normal.
Now that he was in front of Mammon, Baal stared at him with the eyes of a man who knew there was no turning back now. He used his nail to slit his wrist and suck the blood into his mouth, with blood covering his face he let out a demented smile. His hands began engulfing in wine red flames, with that In mind he let out a loud roar and charged straight at him with going in for a good firm blow to the gut.

 

Moo: Gabriel had long since started moving again. Originally, she would have aimed to fight Astaroth off her tower. The damn moron was causing too much damage to her castle, as well as cutting down on her forces after killing a handful of warlocks. She whistled loud and long, and a new handful ran out from the castle, taking cover where they could while they aimed to contain the magma once more. The rest was a lost cause.
Cannons were aimed for the large animals and orcs covering the fields around the kingdom’s walls, reducing their numbers slowly but surely. The fact that her own orcs and animals were in the fields made it exceptionally harder to hit targets without creating their own casualties. Thus, bowmen would help slow some creatures in the front and their own creatures would fight them in their weakened state. Cannons focused on the back row, taking out one or two with each blast.

It was due to Mammon’s voice that she would dismiss the black dragon.
And I’ll make you cook and eat your own flaccid cock! You treacherous pig!
Laughter followed what could be classified as a threat as Gabriel’s shoulders shook. She tossed her head back, tears forming in her eyes. Not a day and she had managed to cause such chaos! Two friends were at each other’s throats. Or so she thought. However, no clang of blades had followed. Her expression sobered as she peered out to the battlefield in curiosity.

COME FACE ME, YOU STINKING TART. I CAN SMELL YOUR FISHY SNATCH FROM HERE!
Hell-Fire ran down her body as she laughed again, though with a dangerous look in her eyes. Gabriel was finally being challenged. In a comical way, as well. She gripped her sword and it immediately seemed to roar back to life with flames. The size grew once more, the blade becoming black as obsidian, glowing in places with embers. Surely, it would pierce his armor as easily as any other soldier on the field. The flames in which ran over her body had dispersed for the most part, only decorating her new armor. It looked much like the material in which made up her golden claw. Its durability would withstand most materials. Even some of the strongest steel would not penetrate where she was covered with it. And much like her sword, it seemed to be eternally burning. Light hit the armor and it would glow as if embers were embedded in several areas. Where fire spread across her horns previously, there was a physical crown of the same features. Gauntlets, boots, shoulder pads… everything was present to cover her body.

Astaroth had moved then, crumbling her building in the process. Gabriel rolled her eyes. While she’d been prepared to dash into battle, this would serve as a momentary distraction. Screams were silenced as large rocks tumbled onto a few dozen of the troops surrounding the building. “Idiots!” she snarled at her now dead men as she looked back. Others around the rocks had been momentarily stunned, but were now climbing over the mound or running around it, crying out for vengeance as the followed the black dragon, catching on-coming forces of greed. “The lot of you,” she continued in a low growl.
This battle ground was such a mess. Baal had once again attempted to make contact with his friend. He was using his fists as well. Gabriel’s curiosity perked slightly. As to why Baal was weaponless, she didn’t know. But she caught a glimpse of a headless spear on the ground a few feet away. While she’d avoided Astaroth in running, she now saw him making an effort to catch up with Mammon as well. So this would be a four-way fight? She flipped her bangs out of her face before her arm hooked down and slightly outward as she began running at an inhuman speed toward the pair of men. Once she and Astaroth met the pair, it would be chaos.
Yet there was no question of who would walk away from this battle alive. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, pulling it up until she looked demented…crazed…as battle lust became very much present in her eyes. “I will slaughter you, Mammon!” she called out in an excited tone. “You just wait for me.” To herself now…a chuckle followed.

 

Zetta:  His eyes glazed over everything but everything else had been deadened. Hours into the war: His sense of hearing picking up every individuals screams and shouts, mortal cries and dying breaths. So he decided to close his ears entirely with a thin strip of flesh grown over his internal ears. He was pit in a battle-field in Hell even though he was human, he was always a monster on Earth, but here he seemed to belong. Fighting on the side of wrath for his own guilty pleasures. After awhile he shut his ears to the noise of dying men around him so he could focus more, without being able to clearly decide who he would listen out for and who did not deserve such courtesy he was forced to concentrate only on what was before him. Those who had attacked him, stuck axes, spears, and swords inside of his body were now mostly only torn top-halves hanging onto a handle. The length of their weapons being the only thing that kept them hanging on despite their latch being a bloody locomotive adding more and more chances that the ground soldiers of Gabriel would overwhelm the other side. Cecil was doing his best still to keep the Dragon in his sights, where his black fires had swarmed the castle-tops and seemed to be creating more minions at his disposal.. A truly damaging attack. It incinerated his enemies and gave birth to newer, possibly stronger spawns that would do their own hurting to the army of Wrath.. The man thought it was enough to not allow him another position on the ground below, but that was no longer the case, he became even more dangerous while left alone in that vast sky. Limited to ground assaults, even while slicing apart the opposition of conjoined forces, Cecil quickly created ways for himself to reach such heights as a flying beast.

Minutes into his own foreshadowing of an aerial attempt he was constantly defeated by the reality that was gravity. No man would fly on his own, he was plagued by the thoughts of uselessness, while being gate-keeper it was his job to ensure no one besieged the forces of Wrath and managed to directly damage the Kingdom.. Yet what was a man capable of terrorizing the ground against one who could fly, even if he could get close, what would he be able to do to such a massive creature spewing such dangerous blazes.. Then, through his flesh-coated ear-drums he heard the shouting of that one with the armor, and immediately uncovered his hearing. Right as he leaped a few meters into the air and managed to catch a polearm’s blade end just before it impaled him, clapping it between his hands and snapping the thing off of it’s hinges. In a swift motion he kicked the attack to the side, continuing to twist his body to kick another of Greed’s soldiers across the face. He held himself up just a bit with the pole arm and then smashed his feet into the faces of the two men he’d kicked, landing perfectly upon them before he continued moving forward. He heard his following words, that to disrespect his Lady and grunted lowly in anger. His eyes widened as he became filled with this passionate emotional fire burning within him, yet her response did not match Cecil’s same hate for that one. She replied callously, promising death for him.. For Mammon.. He would remember that name throughout all of this, and instead of allowing himself to be defeated by his inability to fly on his own, he would do as Lady Gabriel did. Harness that rage into pure murderous intent. He would have to stop that Dragon by any means…

First he turned to one of the flaming spawns he had created, quickly realizing that he was surrounded only by enemies now as the remains of Mammon’s army came forth. Cecil drove his bladed limbs directly through it’s chest and tossed it at a group of others, then spun himself totally and extended his arms outwards. Destroying those in his immediate place. Then he stopped, perfectly halting himself with a firm foot-plant onto the ground, his eyes caught up with his movements, never ones to become dizzy even with twirling havoc going on. He did this to leap at another, taking an armored punch to the face, loosening a tooth in his mouth only to ignore this pain and reach for the other’s face. Squeezing it in his palms. The one beside was shocked at this inhuman feat, but was then grabbed up as well. Quickly; Cecil hurled both men at the Dragon with immense strength.. Demonic baseballs, if he would have thought to name them, were coming towards the black-magma shooting behemoth above the Castle. The corrupted meta-human continued this, as he was deep in Mammon’s forces at this point, nearby were those gigantic elephant-creatures he rode in with. Cecil would finally smirk, finding a pleasure in his finally having ammunition to combat that Dragon.. His bladed arms were shaped into added muscles on his already great showing of physical prowess, though he was heavier with this added mass, he saw no need to move much anymore. As he would be relying on his supernatural perception and precision.. With his strength manipulated to a maximum of iron-crushing might. The elephants themselves were massive, at least 10 tons individually along with the catapults they were attached too, but being thrown by an enhanced Cecil, were now breaching 40 tons. He would be tossing them too, as there were plenty to use, he’d beam them at the Dragon until he hadn’t anymore.. But the army of Greed really was one of the largest…

 

Razorbackwriter:  They say Greed is a powerful force and none so more powerful when coupled with hatred. Combine the two and you have the makings of greatness, or folly. In the Prince’s mind previous to going to war, he had thought that the Beserker armor was the best in the land and so he wore it with a callous disregard to himself. That moment that he placed on the helm of the skull had completed the dark gnomes enchantment and the wearer was to become one with the power of the suit. But little by little, with every footstep, every move of the hand of a clock; the armor was taking him over. Mammon’s mind inching; closer and closer to the abyss of madness. All around him chaos unprecedented. His armies though having fought well on their mission to destroy the castle, were now coming under a ferocious attack from Gabriel’s supporters. Even his own battle elephants were being hurtled through the air like toys in an effort to crush waves of the Greed army. Desperate cries, and screams went unheard as the Prince of Greed now homed in on the very one that had brought about such hatred. Gabriel. Oh, she had heard his vicious and ridiculous taunts and had met them all with a sick and twisted laughter. She found his intentions to be futile as they were ill placed. He had no allies save Astaroth, who was doing all in his power to clear a way to be behind the Prince of Greed in what would be his final hours. Astaroth had sensed the change in the Prince of Greed. Never before had he been this bold to attack another kingdom. Regardless of how the change in the crown had come to be. Sure, he hated women, but this was not the Prince at all. The Beserker armor was now the driving force of this quest to reduce Gabriel to a sizzling pile of gloop and excrement.

The skies were now alight with the colour of fire and brimstone, the air rich with the stank of death and rot as the earth was reclaiming the same bodies it had brought up to serve the Prince of Greed. All around warriors were valiantly staving off what was to come. The complete destruction of the Army of Greed. Mammon may not have been able to see the carnage behind him but he was now void of all feeling and emotion.

His closest; Baal had betrayed him. The vile and pathetic excuse of a true Prince of Hell was now answering to Mammon’s wicked taunts. Had the Beserker truly gotten under the Prince of Gluttony’s skin? For him to start a run at Mammon with his fist being drawn back in an effort to make a single attack to strike at the Prince of Greed’s gut was a tell tale sign that he was not thinking at all with his head. Maybe the blood was in his cock after all. The Beserker skull helm altered as the more sinister vision of the sickly white skull started to show through. Inhuman. Mammon gripped onto the handle of Soul collector with a frightening menace as you could hear the creak and strain of the armor. Almost fusing itself to the blade. Then…it happened. Fist met gut with a sickening crunch that would have sent Mammon back stumbling, but his right foot was back slightly to reinforce his stance. Like lightning the left hand rocketed out to seize Baal’s wrist in such a grip that would break the bone of a mortal. Now he had him. With all the embodied hatred of the armor, the twisted and insane mind snapped. The Soul collector blade raised and slashed down to slice Baal’s arm from the elbow. Yes. The blade cried out – its two hundred souls wailed as it was about to be joined by another. ~SHLICK!~ With Baal’s arm being severed from the body, blood was sure to spurt out and form a sickly puddle on the floor, or spray Mammon.

https://i2.wp.com/fc01.deviantart.net/fs23/f/2008/001/5/8/berserk_armour_head_by_neronin.jpg

 

~RB~

Betrayal at the battlements – SS

Scene setting – Wrath Castle.

This story is co-written with five other writers – Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle and Fu.

 

Temp:  

Astaroth moved alongside Mammon, charging straight into battle. There was clearly something different about Mammon, though there was no real way of knowing what that something was. Whatever it was likely didn’t matter, if anything it was a good thing, seeing Greed so bold and bloodthirsty. The battlefield was of course quite a mess, filled with soldiers and beasts clashing and spilling each others blood. Normally Astaroth wouldn’t be this involved with the combat, as he preferred watching his troops do as he commanded. This situation was a bit different though, and he had decided to make a personal appearance. His army was ready and prepared to march to this Kingdom, but he felt they wouldn’t get here in time to make a significant difference. Since he was able to teleport, he decided to do so and act as a one man army. The tole he would suffer after going back to his normal form would be large, but hopefully it would be worth it.

As he watched Mammon choose a solitary target, who looked rather different in comparison with the Wrath army, he decided to focus his attention on the foot soldiers. Astaroth barreled through the soldiers of Wrath, crushing them as he ran through their ranks. Although he was simply smashing things in his path, he was still very much aware of the battle going on around him. His head was moving in different directions to analyze the angles that a surprise might come from, and he had to keep some of his attention on the sky above in case of projectiles. Such things would hardly leave a scratch on him, but there was no sense in ignoring things being hurled through the sky. As he continued to pounce forward he looked up and took note of a flying object, which he kept his attention on. He wasn’t sure who or what the being was, but it was clearly not your average soldier. As it began to descend towards him he snarled and slammed his limbs into the ground below him, though at an angle. Using this angle and the sudden momentum he shot himself forward and to the side in a large burst of speed, moving away from the falling objects path. Right now he wasn’t trying to fight solo enemies, but rather weaken the Kingdoms defenses and foot soldiers. So for now, he was doing everything he could to avoid these solo fighters. Now that he was away from the falling object, he continued to run forward at full speed, clearly heading for the wall.

Eventually he would make his way up onto the walls of the Kingdom, easily ripping through the forcefield that was created. He jumped up onto the highest point he could find, which enabled him to look down at the battlefield. Using his new found position he opened his mouth and let out a loud and crippling roar all around him. His mouth remained open, and from within magma began to drip out and fall down below him. After a moment of watching the fight, he began to move his hands to his mouth, which he would use to hold onto the magma. As he did so it would become black and distorted, forming into a large blurry black fireball. He began to hurl these down at the soldiers, as well as the Kingdom around him. After exploding and sending chunks of dead soldiers and beasts hurling through the air, the Magma would form into disgusting creatures. They would begin to wail and crawl towards those loyal to Wrath, due to Astaroth controlling them and commanding them to do so. As they found organic life they would explode once again, sending more corpses flying. Astaroth let out another roar as well as a long and satisfied laugh at the carnage, clearly finding the battle amusing so far.Fu:  
https://i1.wp.com/i58.tinypic.com/ftzc6a.gif

– The Veiled Man had stood there silently as the man clad in dark armor had came at him with high speeds and attempted to swing his powerful blade at him in the pursuit of cutting him down but the man retaliated by turning his body in the opposite direction and swing his blade just as fast at the blade that had came at his left hip . A large shockwave would be released around them as a result of their blades clashing , the blades had shook violently against one another as the Veiled Man’s appearance was partially seen through the dark veil which had cloaked him in its entirety. His light purple-blue skin was seen , and his spiky white hair but only for a second as his blade Eclipse released a loud noise and vibration , the sensation and nostalgia would echo off in the form of the Leviathan Queen of 2 generations previous , Demonic Aura and presence is well known for being different for each person and moreso recognizable easily if they are royalty or were in their day, this blade had held her might . –

” You own a extremely powerful blade. That much is for certain”

– The Veiled Man would push his blade forward upwards to cause her to stagger as he had leaped backwards, his darkened figure would begin growing hazy as he had jumped. If he had leaped at him at this time he would have entered a portal in the form of his hazy body and be transported to the closer region of the castle , there he would find the two princes that he was looking for . If he hadn’t , he would have done more flips backwards until he had returned to his physical state and continued battle if that had been his choice. –

 

Candle:  After making a man’s head pop with ease, Baal stared at soldiers. Oh how scared they looked against him, there trembling faces and shaking bones made him feel alive. It made him feel some type of feeling that he never normally got, most likely because he was a menacing psychopath that only Hell could tame.
Grabbing another soldier, Baal held him out horizontally and ripped his body in half. Using the separated body he chunked it at someone and listened to the thud as a soldier dropped to the ground. With blood on now onto his face the scent of blood made him close his eyes and sniff the beautiful scent in. Now that the scent of blood was in his system the now normal Baal would be turned into a monster who committed such horrors.
Taking off his armored coat his muscles began to enlarge and so did he in height. At the sight of such transformation it looked absolutely disgusting, but it was necessary if he was going to live. His body morphed into a colossal demonic killing machine, when this happened there was no stopping him until the scent of blood was gone from his system. Baal kept the cigar in his mouth and grabbed his axe and turned it into a double sided spear.
Soldiers hesitated to charge at him so Baal charged them and impaled one after another on his spear. Body after body lined up on the cold Hell forged steel. Eventually the tips of the spear would become engulfed in flame, so he threw the spear in the air and caught it on side where there wasn’t any bodies. Then he used all of his imposed strength and tossed it at the direction of Mammon
“I will use your blood to create such a beautiful painting that even Picasso will congratulate me.” He yelled out with his booming hellacious voice.

 

Moo:  The large form of Astaroth proved problematic as he tore through the barrier. The warlocks around the castle could no longer maintain the force field, but it wasn’t as necessary. The cannons were fast at work until the number of the catapults had dwindled down until there were less than half remaining. It was a matter of minutes before a few more would be destroyed. The warlocks focused on protecting the soldiers instead, as the magma Astaroth created was tossed about the field, exploding on impact. Small barriers would surround them momentarily to avoid mass murder of the warriors in the way of the blasts. Instead of say, ten, only a few would take any hit.
Gabriel found herself feeling pleased while her claws smashed through some poor man’s stomach, clenching before she tore away the whole front of him. His stomach tore open, intestines dropping to the ground. She would simply lick her claw and it was another life added to her compilation. Oh yes, she was saving up for the finale.
Her armor was already completely stained with blood along her hands and arms. Her sword was heavier with the amount of carnage she’d collected. She had to give it a good swing to help rid some of the excess blood. Where she had been walking, there was a trail of bodies. Some headless, some cut in half. Others simply missed limbs…or like this poor bastard that crumpled before her…they missed flesh in certain areas.
An idiot swung at her from the left, his blade catching her arm with a clang. The armor in which trailed along this area would catch it before she turned her head to meet his gaze. His already wide eyes grew further. “It’s impolite to stare,” she said meekly. Her sword ran itself through his skull, penetrating the helm he wore as if it were simply tinfoil. That was the power of her Hell-Fire, as it improved her sword’s durability greatly. Her once simple blade had morphed until it was twice as large, curving slightly while it radiated bright red-orange flames.
These flames spread over the corpse upon contact. Had he not already been dead, he would have been screaming bloody murder. She frowned as she tugged at her sword once. The body came with it. Irritated, she pressed her foot against his chest and yanked her sword away. It made a sickeningly sweet noise as it left his head, blood spurting over her. She opened her mouth gladly, taking the blood on her tongue before swallowing. Yum! She made a noise of glee, obviously enjoying her killing spree.
Though admittedly it seemed that Baal was enjoying himself much more thoroughly. She would admire his strength from afar as he tore a body apart before laughing. That’s right! She would have this war finished before the sun set. Mammon would fail. And his head would decorate her throne room, along with Belial’s and Hex’s. A hall of fame, dedicated to those who fell to her feet. Those pathetic men deserved no better place than the floor at her feet. Maybe she would make a coat from his skin. Her blade lowered while she stared off into the distance, the circle of bodies around her giving plenty of warning to other warriors of greed. They simply did not want to fight her. Cowards, the lot of ’em.

 

Zetta:  The Gate-Keeper’s eyes were slit in the skies above from the incoming wind and limbs flying up to his level, his arms crossed in an x-formation before him to collect as much air as he could between his fingers to further halt his fall upon realizing his enemy to be fleeing the scene there. His crash landing seemed futile as the great draconian beast simply jumped a great distance from where he saw Cecil would land. The bloodied warrior did not care for what damage this would do to himself, but as he descended rapidly only wondered if he would make it to him before he could do any massive attacks. He landed, bringing a massive bunch of debris into the air around him. His choice land split majority of the fleshy mass that he had gathered in the air, which was primarily to damage his target further but now had served to break his fall. Still; as he positioned himself to punch through the dragon, the bulk of his hands, his knuckles were built up to withstand the pressure the ground would bring. That which he brought upon himself with that jump. As one who decided the capacity of their flesh, he was not so damaged when his knuckles met the blood-soaked ground.

The entire area around the man would suddenly twist and distort into an incomprehensible sight. The grass rose from the ground and was now blotting out his peripheral vision. For just a few moments while he had been recovering from shock was he then reminded of the fighting going on: Directly ahead of him were Thousands of soldiers all locked in battle out of nowhere, beside him, behind him, all around was fighting going on. Blade pit to blade; Yet not one person turned to the new one that had fallen from the sky. This was a battle-field clearly and the revolving intensity was enough to hike the nerves of any living being. Blood was shed at rapid rates and the ground beneath everyone’s feet was pooling blood, It would become clear now that this was an active genocide, there were simply too many people and escalating casualties to be anything but mass murder committed against royalty. Everyone involved would likely be dead, except for his Princess, that was for sure. And while Cecil could only be in observation if he did not join in as well. The dragon was too far ahead, and he was not going to just chase it down, he would carve a path of blood until he directly saw him again: These people became illusions of his past, a wall of flesh that he would tear down once again. They were impervious to incoming damage from him as what was happening was a scripted showing, no one defeated the Kingdom of Wrath in open combat. The blood under him however was ripe with many different cells and originated in the bodies of living men.

He grew blades of sharp diseased organs, becoming dense from his power. Taking those; he began running point-blank ahead trying to ensure the dragon had no place on the ground while Cecil still breathed. The warlocks were doing a fine job of saving the ones on the floor, while Cecil would make it unsafe for the remaining opposition of grunts until he found one strong. His arms tore people in half, some would manage to cut him before then, but would be split apart all the same. His eyes had deadened and became cold completely, with no satisfaction as long as Gabrielle remained necessary on this battle-field.

 

Razorbackwriter:  It was now a battle that rivaled any of the great events in history. The humans world of Terra could not possibly compete with the likes of the Demonic Princes and their savage armies. One might think it strange that all this was over the simple killing of a Prince by Gabriel, however one must understand that this was Hell, and the Seven Princes were of Sin. Each driven by that desire; and what could you expect from one like Mammon, whose true nature of Greed was showing through. Mammon had one of the best armies, fought in the most hellish of armor at great risk to himself….and all to prove a point. Hell was run by men, not the scantily clad wenches that easily destroy their mates; such as what had happened to Belial. In Mammon’s mind there was no Princess of Hell, just a whore that preyed on men’s needs and wasted when no longer of use.

Within the beserker armor; great change was occurring to the Prince of Greed. He no longer sounded like the pompous sexist pig of a man, but he was now more beast than anything else. Mammon chose his first target on which to wield his soul crying sword. With a great powered swing, he attempted to slice the Veiled man in two – who had been mostly obscured by a dark veil for the start of the fighting. But he was not totally unprepared for Mammon, having met the upward slash of Mammon’s blade with his own. The clash of two swords would cause a massive shock wave of sound and vibration, that reverberated back down through the handle and would jolt Mammon in such a way, that he fell back and had to grip his sword’s handle tighter. It was in this moment that the veiled man’s appearance really shone through. Light purple blue skin and spiky white hair. Mammon let out a roar of laughter on seeing his foe for the first time. It was hollowed, as if he had spoken down a long tunnel. .

” You own a extremely powerful blade. That much is for certain” The veiled man said, before using the momentum of his blade in a forward push to drive Mammon back. Mammon, who was still at full strength, did take a step back but planted his boot hard by the heel into the floor to slow and steady his stance once more, as he watched the veiled man flip backwards. Mammon changed his hand grip now to a two handed hold on the blade. To follow the veiled man in Mammon’s eyes was to lead him into a trap; away from the main prize of that bitch; Gabriel. Snarling he spat the word”COWARD!”, before his attention was seized by the whistling sound of an oncoming object. The skull helm turned sharply, where he then saw the oncoming of a spear being thrown at him with strength by none other than….Baal. The fire tipped spear blazing, struck the left shoulder of Mammon, it’s spear head piercing the armor plating. Mammon roared not in pain, but in anger. His closest ally had turned on him. Mammon released a hand from his sword grip and then reached up as the spear was wedged into his armor plating, with blood spewing out from the hole around the blade tip. One with the armor, he snapped the spear length free from the arrow head which was slowly being consumed by the armor itself as it worked to close the gap in the plating – forging the metal into itself. The spear length clattered to the ground as Mammon yelled back at Baal. ”And I’ll make you cook and eat your own flaccid cock! You treacherous pig!”

It was clear that there was now no love between the Prince of Gluttony and the Prince of Greed.

The bowmen, though dwindling in number due to the cannon fire and the constant attacks from the Wrath army were not retreating as one might imagine. Flanked now by the horseman, they made a full on run at the Castle to take on ALL of the Wrath army in a squirmish that would go down as the Day Hell turned in on itself. The battle elephants were now having to defend themselves, some spooked as their drivers were struck by enemy fire, and were now charging indiscriminately at the waves of soldiers regardless of whose side they were on. It was demon against demon, orc against orc. The Greed army was under orders to fight to the last man, and that was exactly what it intended to do.

The beserker armor was now changing forms as it became more skeletal in its shape, though black as night. The loud footfalls of the Prince of Greed would signal he was on the march to end the one that had started all of this, with her murderous spree. He knew Baal would probably make another attack, and boy did he hope he did. Mammon knew that if Baal was under the spell of the Princess, it would distract him from trying to end the Prince of Greed in battle. Baal only had enough blood to use his brain…or his cock, so if she was there flaunting her womanhood, Baal would be put off. Mammon was counting on it.

”COME FACE ME, YOU STINKING TART. I CAN SMELL YOUR FISHY SNATCH FROM HERE!”

 

~RB~

 

 

Brother against Brother – SS

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.

 

~RB~

 

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.

 

Fu:  
https://i1.wp.com/i58.tinypic.com/ftzc6a.gif

– 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.

https://i2.wp.com/static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/7/72294/2357716-berserk_2460209.jpg

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.

 

~RB~