I can’t tell you how much I laughed at this. The fact Jack Warner needed epic backing music to respond to a comedian’s comments…….Oh goodness.
A new fantasy story that is a collaborative with dreamcircle125 of wordpress.
Scene setting : Wrath Castle.
This story is co-written with five other writers; Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle & Fu.
Temp: Astaroth had been stomping towards Mammon from behind, still at a decent distance from him. It was becoming more and more clear that something was wrong with his fellow Prince, but there was little Astaroth could do about it. Whatever was causing this change would have to be addressed after the battle. As the massive demon marched forward on all fours, he once again caught a glimpse at the persistent warrior from earlier. This warrior seemed obsessed with doing whatever he could to try and hamper his actions, though was unsuccessful. Now the warrior seemed to be hurling things at him, which seemed to consist of balled up chunks of soldiers. Honestly, it made him laugh just seeing other soldiers used in such a way. It was actually pretty interesting to have giant balls of living and dead soldiers chucked at you. Astaroth continued to march forward towards Mammon, despite the objects being hurled at him. He didn’t bother dodging them, and instead relied on his armored hide to protect him from any damage. When the ‘balls’ actually hit him they exploded into chunks of meat, bone, and armor. They were similar to the cannon fire that he shrugged off earlier, but they carried much more impact than he anticipated. While the damage they caused was minimal, it did actually make him stop for a moment to shake it off.
And then there were the elephants. The warrior actually managed to snag up these large creatures and toss them at him. Astaroth knew better than to ignore these, based on how the much smaller ‘balls’ had surprised him. He immediately stood up completely on two legs, now towering over everything in the battlefield. As the elephants got close to him, he would smash them back into the battlefield with his arms and tail, using the limbs like a baseball bat. This was of course stalling him from moving forward as fast as he would like, but he did manage to press forward regardless. As he got closer and closer to Mammon, he actually caught one of the elephants by using his jaws and his hands. With the creature now in his grasp, he began to pour the magma from his mouth onto it. As soon as the magma made contact with the creature, he pulled his arms back and then hurled the giant magma coated creature directly at the warrior that had thrown it.
– In the skies above the war , a ear popping noise can be heard and felt as clouds parted as a speeding winged figure could be seen with a trail of clouds at the tips of his feet ; his wings would soon close as the person descended and crashed into a large group of soldiers hailing from Mammon’s land and in that following moment would be thrown into the air and flew in varying directions . A large cloud of smoke had covered the crater in which the person flew in from , a soft sighing sound was heard from within the smoke and what followed was a giant release of purple flames which went skywards towards the sky. –
” I can’t stay away . . . . ”
– The voice said and all who knew him would instantly recognize it to be Envy , but in the next second the smoke had cleared and they would see Envy’s back and his arms as he had his back turned to them . His muscles tensed up until some of his veins were present and bulged outwards , something which was quite odd as Envy was not known to display any emotion of this caliber before. He would then at this moment finish his sentence and began to turn around –
” WITHOUT SOMETHING HAPPENING TO THE NEW PRINCESS OF WRATH ! ”
– Envy’s face had shown a fierce glow to it , he yelled from a distance , although he was more closer to Gluttony and Mammon then the two which was getting closer . He didn’t know which one of them incited the war but his eyes were sharp , sharper then anyone that has ever been seen before . His demonic clawed arm would engulf itself in a thick ball of flame as his other arm began to swirl inwards as if summoning something –
” This balance of power is always tipping , but I swear this will be the last time someone causes trouble today in the kingdom of wrath ! ”
” It would seem my time on this battlefield is done for now. . ”
– The Veiled Figure at this moment of noticing the Prince of Envy had jumped backwards into two soldiers clashing and absorbed them into a void , apparently dissappearing from the battlefield . For what reason however was unknown but it could be inferred due to the Prince of Envy’s appearance that had changed his decision of participating in this battle or there was the case scenario he would wait until there was a reasonable objective worthy of his hands to resume his battling , even though he took a passive approach to it all –
Candle: With his arm severed and his now gone arm bleeding profusely, Baal looked at the arm and looked back up at Mammon. “Cute.” He said while grabbing his former arm and squeezed it tightly. Loosing the arm wasn’t such a big deal, he’d always get a gold one or perhaps a weapon.
With the arm gripped, Baal backed away and transferred his hellfire into the limb and watched his arm engulf in flames. It was too the point of which he couldn’t hold it anymore so he backed up and chucked it at Mammon. Basically his arm was like a grenade except the shrapnel would be flesh. It certainly was something new he’d done before and it seemed like a nifty idea.
Gaining his distance, Baal was pretty useless without his other limb. But he could still take down soldiers even with a handicap. Tripping a passing by soldier he laughed slightly and then stomped down on his head. The sound of a head caving in with just a simple stomp made up for the blood squirting out.
Letting Gabriel take hold of him seemed like a good idea, after all she did kill Belial. But Leviathan’s appearance to the battle just made his head cave in. Why would a Prince who absolutely did nothing except have the most annoying personality be here? “Oh look boy wonder came to save the day, I hope you didn’t bring girl scout cookies you bleeding cunt.” Baal said annoying while elbowing a soldier hard in the chest and waited for Leviathan to die.
The war cries, clanging of weapons, and the piercing of armor melted together in a perfect symphony. It was as if this was Gabriel’s orchestra. They played just for her, screaming in agony or anger. The smell of death polluted the air about her kingdom, possibly drifting toward the others. A play for all to see. And when the curtain would fall…who would be left to bow before the audience? Gabriel smiled as she crossed the battle field at a swift pace, feeling joy bubble within her. Oh yes, the play was coming to an end.
Her forces had ferociously taken care of Greed’s army, and with less time to prepare. If they had marched into battle themselves, who could have measured the destruction the kingdom’s forces would cause! She felt utterly giddy, even in watching the scene play out before her. Movement within the air had especially caught her attention. Large masses of bodies flew through the air and she grinned, a wholehearted laugh sounding. Elephants? Her laughter only grew. Mammon’s forces were dwindling far too fast for him to rely on. How would he retreat now, if given the chance? A wild look came to her eyes while her grin pulled from ear to ear, fangs protruding quite nicely. Her attention was back on him.
The scene in which was taking place could hardly phase her now, as she closed in. Only yards away. She took note of the close range being an issue. Yes…Baal did nicely in a sort of trial-and-error. Now Gabriel could work around that. And while Baal’s attempt had been…admirable…it was so damn stupid, she had to laugh again. More of a chuckle, as she watched him fling his arm at Mammon. He was certainly an interesting man.
Perhaps it would work as a distraction. She slowed to a trot, then stopped as she watched flesh explode. Whether or not it actually did anything for Baal, she didn’t care. She swung her sword to the side, blasting a wave of Hell-Fire toward her opponent. Perhaps testing the limits of this man’s armor was necessary, as the blow to the stomach seemed to have had done very little…if anything at all. The heat from the Hell-Fire came back in a rush, sending her hair back in a gust of wind. “I’m here for you, Mammon!” The excitement was very much present in her voice while her eyes lit up. Her sword swept back behind her, and her stance became more serious, despite her playfulness. She had a slight bounce to her step, and she couldn’t stop smiling. Her right hand–or claw, rather–lifted beside her head and balled into a tight fist. The sound of metal scraping against itself accompanied the movement. The fist uncurled and she lowered her arm slightly, cocking it while her claws spread themselves…she looked as if she was ready to grab his head within it and just…crush.
Zetta: Cecil had actively been throwing each and every one of those massive animals with all of his force. While his target seemed to be mostly shrugging off his opportunistic projectiles. The might of them both along with the distance between them made for even greater catapult-boulders being launched throughout the sky. As a meta-human he was only competing with the bestial one because he had enhanced himself beyond humanly possible, with tons of mass applied to a self-controlled powerful body. But even then, if he was to meet one of the elephants countered upon him he would have much more difficulty in catching it. So he began thinking ahead, after the first few where the Dragon had swatted them away he planted his arm into the ground.. He would create something huge with his own organs to be even more effective than he had already been. First; his hand dug deep into the ground, stretching beyond his normal reach like an extra-appendage and formed a large spike protruding upward. He had done so by planting his own cells into the ground below he was able to spread an influence inside of the Hellish earth itself. That spike spread out, gaining multiple other protrusions which would also seep into the ground after growing out a few meters.
This slaughtered most of those still alive on the side of the Greed army near Cecil and cleared him of worry from the grunt soldiers and magma creatures alike. The organic spiky appendages allowed that initial spike to reach 15 meters off of the ground, seeming more like a pinkish tree rather than an extended organ. This far above, the man who created it no longer could control his cells within them at the very top. While the Dragon tossed one flaming elephant back at Cecil, he had begun running along his extended organ. At the time of his leaving he would grab onto the tip of the organ and rip it off along with him, using it for additional momentum in this next move.. Leaping far above the projectile, at the exact same time it was thrown, making for a nice preemptive strike. In the midst of the air he spun himself rapidly, like an organic boomerang in the sky, it allowed him even more force as he’d challenge his target directly once more. He propelled himself forward now that he had the beast’ attention and would smash down onto him with the combination of his enhanced strength, gathered weight, and built-up momentum to try and match that monstrous might.
Razorbackwriter: Standing upon a distant hill, Lucifer was now watching the spectacle below as his own creations were now all going against each other in a massive battle that rivalled anything on Earth. With arms folded and a sneer played out upon his lips for he could see the outcome from afar. There were to be great changes in the days that followed the death of the Prince that was for certain. The Greed army was suffering massive causalities at the hands of Cecil; who was using the Greed armies own battle elephants as living projectiles. The Dragon like Astaroth was doing all he could to strike the elephants back, but the losses beneath the falling bulk were of the hundreds. The lands were broken, black and blood estuaries ran throughout the trenches. The disembowelled and decapitated bodies lay scattered as far as the eye could see, whilst torn banners were flapping lazily in the wind.
And to think…it was women that caused all of this.
At the mouth of the Castle, the two former allies; Baal and Mammon were now locked in battle as the Prince of Gluttony had taken Gabriel’s side. It would be a choice that proved costly. Baal’s arm was completely severed by Mammon, when his blade struck true to the elbow of his foe. While Baal backed up and tried to stop the bleeding that was spurting out of the torn nub, Mammon snarled violently at the Prince of Gluttony. Baal charged his own arm with hellfire as he chuckled at the Prince of Greed. With a forceful throw, he hurled his torn limb at Mammon which hit with an explosive squelch. The arm disintegrating into disgusting flesh remnants that slid down the front of the Beserker armor and formed a puddle upon the floor. Was that supposed to hurt? Within the amor Mammon felt nothing. No pain…but he was slowly losing his mind. Mammon took a step towards Baal, but this was when Leviathan – Baal’s true rival finally decided to make an appearance. Naturally, Baal would want to face that bastard, even with his loss of limb. To Mammon, Baal was no longer a player in this game. He had just been a tool to Gabriel’s needs. Whether he realized it or not. Now, Mammon changed direction after hearing that the sly slag was singing out for him.
“I’m here for you, Mammon!”
The skull helm turned towards the direction of the voice, as the background behind him was apocalyptic. This was what Mammon had come for and this was to be his greatest moment – with or without an army. The Beserker armor appeared to grow – the chest expanding, and the skull face now more inhuman than ever. Chitorous like plates were now locking together right across the front, back and limbs. It was like watching the final preparation of a tank like creature – more than a normal suit of armor. The head had massive spikes protruding and the shoulders now had bone like appendages that gave it a terrible menace. The eyes of burning fire watched Gabriel almost go into a dance as she made her approach. The hell fire causing her hair to be blown back – as she swung her weapon with her left hand to create a surge of fire that was to engulf the beserker armor worn by Mammon. The roar of the heat of the flame was met with a sick and twisted laughter that emitted through the mouth of the skull helm. ”Trying to roast marshmallows? Typical!”
Time for talk was over, the Beserker armor now more skeletal in form with the fire blazing upon it, started a run at the Demon of Wrath. His own right hand clutching the Soul collector, which he wielded directly towards Gabriel’s throat in a move to drive the blade of the weapon straight through. This was a split second decision, which was unusual as he was taking the girl head on. He could not see her wearing anything that would block such a strike .
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.
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.
Scene setting – Wrath Castle.
This story is co-written with five other writers – Temp, Moo, Zetta, Candle and Fu.
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:
– 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!”