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Archmagos Issac
Sir Ser Issac of Clarke of Chad the II
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2014
- Location
- The Forge World of Mars
Okay not really. I'm not really a dark individual and frankly I wanted to make a more general request thread that really buttered my bread and covered a more broad spectrum of stuff I'd like to play haha. So without further ado, let's move on!
So these past few days I have been craving doing an RP based around a comic I read recently with a fairly basic premise: your character is in a steadily down hill marriage when your husband gets a call from the hospital concerning his father. Evidently, the man injured his back while working and is gonna be out of commission for a week. You've been volunteered to look after him while your husband goes out of town for work. From there, we'd play it out as the two start talking, flirting, bonding. To sweeten the deal as well, I had this face claim in mind for those curious haha.
I want this to be fun, lighthearted, all that stuff. Maybe it ends when the father gets better and can go home, maybe it persists behind her husbands back. I'm up for either!
I am a veteran RPer. 10 year veteran to be precise. Practically an old man I'm sure haha. I consider myself a pretty experienced writer, able to churn out a good few paragraphs and maintain that pace IF the subject we are on truly inspires me. I can do subjects ranging from action and adventure to simply slice of life. While I do enjoy smut every now and again, it is never a requirement. I've had plenty of good RPs that didn't have a single point of smut to think of. I won't shy away from it most of the time unless it feels simply gratuitous or out of place. I do my best to match my partner's post length as often as I can but I have the occasional moment where I am getting brain farts bad.
Bearing all this, I'm a VERY laid back individual and open to constructive criticism. If I make a bad post or you think I can do better. TELL ME! Don't be a dick about it but tell me please. How am I to improve if I don't know I'm doing something wrong? It's kinda like if a puppy keeps going to the bathroom on the floor. Do you abandon the puppy or do you educate it?
You wanna talk than please talk to me! I may be cursed with resting bitch face in person but I promise I am a good guy to talk to. We can ponder the great questions in life like "Why are we here?" or "What does it mean to be human?" or more important "Do penguins have knees?"
A few of the genres I enjoy are as follows in no particular order of preference:
Slice of Life
I don't ask much from partners to be honest. Like I said before, I'm very laid back and you really can't annoy me unless you are extremely rude or disrespectful. I'm giving you respect from day 1, please do the same for me. With that out of the way, I expect only a few things from my partners.
- Please post every so often. I'm not asking for a post every single hour on the hour or even every single day. You got a life outside of BMR and I understand that. So do I, just post when you can. If you can't post for one reason or another than please tell me. You're busy, you're uninspired, you're eating dinner, whatever. Give me some kind of indication you are alive and okay and we are good
- When you post, please be literate. I understand that English isn't a first language for everyone and I understand grammatical errors occur. We're humans, we aren't perfect. However, please be able to write AT LEAST 1 meaty paragraph or even better: match my posts. If I give you 5 solid paragraphs and you give me a 1 sentence reply, chances are this isn't going to last. I'm not asking you to give me a novel, I'm just asking for effort. I'd rather have a quality post every few days than a rushed post every few hours.
Honestly that is all I ask. When it comes to the subject of smut, please discuss with me what you are and aren't comfortable with. Understand that my tastes are pretty vanilla and while I do enjoy smut, it is not a priority 9/10 times
Not much is known of the time before the Exodus. What is known is that the forefathers of Man, Fae, and Dwarf were forced to leave by monstrous threat our ancestors called the "Shyr Polaes" or in common "Blood Drinkers". The creatures spread like wildfire, wanting nothing more then to kill and multiply like locusts. Our ancestors were powerless to this enemy and were given no choice but the to leave the lush world they once called home. The fae called these lands “Jhyr Jhal” or in common speech, “The Lost Lands”.
To ensure the survival of not only themselves but future generations, the ancestors pleaded to the Makers for aid, a means to survive the horrors that threatened to consume their servants. The Makers answered in kind, leading those seeking to escape to what the ancestors collectively referred to as “The Conduit”, an ancient structure believed to be constructed by the Makers themselves. With the combined efforts of the old magic, the most powerful of the ancestors shamans and mages awoke The Conduit, opening a portal to new and unfamiliar lands, a place seemingly inhospitable to the threat that followed.
“Aezoli Jhal”, The Exiled Lands. A place of sand and stone, seemingly comprised only of shifting deserts and rocky canyons. A place seemingly inhospitable to any form of life. Little is known of that time. What is known is that our ancestors forced those creatures that followed into the Deep Deserts where they would perish, from there they began spreading out in search of places to call home. The dwarves took to the mountains, digging deep and thriving despite the harsh world. Many fae took to the deserts, becoming nomadic tribes that wandered the shifting sands. Some tribes of man took to the deserts in search of more hospitable lands, others settling on the first sources of water they could find, and others settling on in the ruins of what were once cities of the Makers that were teeming with powerful artifacts.
The deserts are a cruel and unforgiving place. Scorching heat, minimal water, dangerous terrain, sandstorms so powerful they can shred the skin from your bones in minutes, and that's just the elements without mentioning the deadly creatures as well. Despite all these things, there are still those who endure it all and those people more often than not place their faith and hope into the hands of those who are willing to travel through hell and back: Sunrunners. Mercenaries, caravaners, heroes for hire, when someone needs something taken care of in the deserts, they recruit anyone from the Sunrunner's Guild. Were it not for them, many would have suffered or died long ago....
To ensure the survival of not only themselves but future generations, the ancestors pleaded to the Makers for aid, a means to survive the horrors that threatened to consume their servants. The Makers answered in kind, leading those seeking to escape to what the ancestors collectively referred to as “The Conduit”, an ancient structure believed to be constructed by the Makers themselves. With the combined efforts of the old magic, the most powerful of the ancestors shamans and mages awoke The Conduit, opening a portal to new and unfamiliar lands, a place seemingly inhospitable to the threat that followed.
“Aezoli Jhal”, The Exiled Lands. A place of sand and stone, seemingly comprised only of shifting deserts and rocky canyons. A place seemingly inhospitable to any form of life. Little is known of that time. What is known is that our ancestors forced those creatures that followed into the Deep Deserts where they would perish, from there they began spreading out in search of places to call home. The dwarves took to the mountains, digging deep and thriving despite the harsh world. Many fae took to the deserts, becoming nomadic tribes that wandered the shifting sands. Some tribes of man took to the deserts in search of more hospitable lands, others settling on the first sources of water they could find, and others settling on in the ruins of what were once cities of the Makers that were teeming with powerful artifacts.
The deserts are a cruel and unforgiving place. Scorching heat, minimal water, dangerous terrain, sandstorms so powerful they can shred the skin from your bones in minutes, and that's just the elements without mentioning the deadly creatures as well. Despite all these things, there are still those who endure it all and those people more often than not place their faith and hope into the hands of those who are willing to travel through hell and back: Sunrunners. Mercenaries, caravaners, heroes for hire, when someone needs something taken care of in the deserts, they recruit anyone from the Sunrunner's Guild. Were it not for them, many would have suffered or died long ago....
Hello! Hello!
Welcome back Ghouls and Gals!
It's DJ Skully, self proclaimed King of the Apocalypse; back with another installment of 'Skully Says!'
Our first message comes from one Nina O'Neal, student at Laughton Community College, she writes:
Welcome back Ghouls and Gals!
It's DJ Skully, self proclaimed King of the Apocalypse; back with another installment of 'Skully Says!'
Our first message comes from one Nina O'Neal, student at Laughton Community College, she writes:
Thanks for writing, Nina! Well as it so happens your King has something of an idea of how this nonsense happened! Let me tell all you ghouls and gals a little story:
About a month ago, this big ass storm hit our small town of Laughton. BIG damn storm right during the first football game of the season. Just came out of nowhere. Now not everyone saw it but I DID so believe me when I say something happened downtown. This giant column of light appeared and shot up right into the sky. After that, things took a hard left turn into crazy town. People all over town just turned into those wonderful zombies now roaming the streets. Now, the ghouls and gals over at Laughton had the right idea. They shut the only set of gates to get in the actual school. Turns out the zombies aren't so good at climbing metal fencing or a solid 10 foot brick wall. However, that was just on the first night.
As the days went on though, people started to turn into damn psychos. Turns out people tend to go crazy when the living dead start rising. We got guys like this Mr. Mephistopheles guy.....god FUCK that guy. Any of you ghouls or gals see that asshole, just turn tail and RUN. I'm a tough dude but that guy nearly gut me like a fish with a pair of hunting knives! For that matter, avoid the library as well. I don't know WHAT made the zombies but it made other stuff too and the closer you get to the city library, the more dangerous it gets. I'm talking Revenants, Titans, Widowmakers, just the big nasty baddies you REALLY don't want to mess with. Zombies? Easy. Hit them in the head, zombie is dead.
You guys are probably tired of hearing me talk though and want to hear your zombie killing tunes, don't ya? So without FURTHER ado, we'll get to the tune. A personal favorite of mine.
This is "The Spooky Scary Skeletons Remix" by The Living Tombstone.
This is DJ Skully reminding you to aim for the head, and kill the undead!
Inspired by: "Lollipop Chainsaw"
Alright, this is relatively straight forward. I'm gonna start by saying that for the most part I try to avoid fandom and canon stories BUT I feel that "Dracula Untold" has the potential to be a good story on it's own without some of the things that bogged it down in the movie. A great deal had been cut that would have redeemed the movie in many ways and I intend to implement those things as well as implement some of my own. If you aren't aware of the movie and just clicked the spoiler, let me explain the story:
"Dracula Untold" follows the origin of the infamous vampire as he becomes the monster we know and love. Once a prince and a father, Vlad receives an ultimatum from the Ottoman Empire that he must refuse: surrender the young boys of his kingdom to fuel the Ottoman's army. Alone, Vlad cannot hope to stop this enemy. Desperate, Vlad looks to the mountains surrounding his home and comes before the monster that dwells within. He begs for the power to crush his enemies and save his people. Thus, Vlad is cursed to become a monster that craves blood. A noble man who once had noble intentions but realizes that men do not fear heroes, men fear monsters.
I would be playing the titular Dracula as he struggles to walk the line between a good man and a bloodthirsty monster. You would be playing both his wife and his dark advisor, a powerful witch known as Baba Yaga who encourages the prince to unleash his power and embrace the darkness that he has become to protect his people and save his family
"Dracula Untold" follows the origin of the infamous vampire as he becomes the monster we know and love. Once a prince and a father, Vlad receives an ultimatum from the Ottoman Empire that he must refuse: surrender the young boys of his kingdom to fuel the Ottoman's army. Alone, Vlad cannot hope to stop this enemy. Desperate, Vlad looks to the mountains surrounding his home and comes before the monster that dwells within. He begs for the power to crush his enemies and save his people. Thus, Vlad is cursed to become a monster that craves blood. A noble man who once had noble intentions but realizes that men do not fear heroes, men fear monsters.
I would be playing the titular Dracula as he struggles to walk the line between a good man and a bloodthirsty monster. You would be playing both his wife and his dark advisor, a powerful witch known as Baba Yaga who encourages the prince to unleash his power and embrace the darkness that he has become to protect his people and save his family
This story would follow a group of vampires living on the run in the world. A new breed of vampire that is immune to sunlight and is being hunted. Hunted by the humans who believe these creatures to be monsters and hunted by the old breed of vampire who see them as a threat to their very kind.
Your character is the newest member of the group, a newly turned vampire who was saved from one of the older vampires by the leader of the group. You come to to find that you can't go back to your old life, not anymore. You are a target now, a pest that must be eliminated. Alone you are a sitting duck who won't survive a week. With the group however, you will learn to survive.
Pretty simple but I want this to be something like the Bourne series where our characters survive hunters and vampires by being smart, not by being stronger or more brutal. They survive by thinking 2 steps ahead and doing their best to keep from drawing attention to themselves
Your character is the newest member of the group, a newly turned vampire who was saved from one of the older vampires by the leader of the group. You come to to find that you can't go back to your old life, not anymore. You are a target now, a pest that must be eliminated. Alone you are a sitting duck who won't survive a week. With the group however, you will learn to survive.
Pretty simple but I want this to be something like the Bourne series where our characters survive hunters and vampires by being smart, not by being stronger or more brutal. They survive by thinking 2 steps ahead and doing their best to keep from drawing attention to themselves
Quincy "Q" Blackgate has been called many things. A warlock, an asshole, and more often than not he has been called a suspect on more than one occasion. When weird shit occurs that ends human life, Q is usually there to stop said weird shit but is often left seen as the source of it. He always walks away though. Hard to prove things when proof magically disappears or witnesses claim never to have met the man. It doesn't help the guy is so smug and always claims he's a warlock. His story never changes, not once. That irks one detective in particular, she hates the man's guts because she thinks he is full of shit and has been on a warpath to put him away......until recently. Until someone she loved was murdered by some weird shit and she now has no-one to look to. No one but Quincy fucking Blackgate....
"And so a curse, spawned from Man's misguided ambitions; blighted the land. A mighty scourge descended upon the kingdoms of the innocent; and monsters were those it touched. Man devoured man, beasts turned upon their masters and great was the suffering of mankind . . . "
Darkness descended on the land upon accursed wings as madness spread through the people. A darkness that seemed to reverse the laws of even death itself as those who became afflicted with this evil became something inhuman. Creatures that seemed hell bent on ending life, bringing suffering, and spreading madness on a scale unheard of. This....plague, whatever it may be; descends upon villages in the night and leaves monsters in it's wake. People became terrified and looked to the Heavens to a god who had seemingly turned his back on such foulness. Hope dwindling like a candle being swallowed by shadow. Yet even so, whispers spread by the words of travelers of mysterious warriors who seem to follow upon the heels of the darkness. Warriors clad in black armor bearing a coat of arms none recognize. Three crows forming a circle upon a red field.
Warriors who fight the undead creatures with ease and are accompanied by large black ravens. However, the rumors are that they have killed innocents as well, burning whole villages to the ground. Who they are, no one knows. Harbingers of the plague, dark guardians, no one is certain. All that is truly known is that the darkness is only growing, the madness spreading like the disease with it. Lords hide behind their walls as their people suffer and die, people look to anything that gives them hope that all will return to normal, but people are running out of hope even as the whispers of these....raven knights persist...
Darkness descended on the land upon accursed wings as madness spread through the people. A darkness that seemed to reverse the laws of even death itself as those who became afflicted with this evil became something inhuman. Creatures that seemed hell bent on ending life, bringing suffering, and spreading madness on a scale unheard of. This....plague, whatever it may be; descends upon villages in the night and leaves monsters in it's wake. People became terrified and looked to the Heavens to a god who had seemingly turned his back on such foulness. Hope dwindling like a candle being swallowed by shadow. Yet even so, whispers spread by the words of travelers of mysterious warriors who seem to follow upon the heels of the darkness. Warriors clad in black armor bearing a coat of arms none recognize. Three crows forming a circle upon a red field.
Warriors who fight the undead creatures with ease and are accompanied by large black ravens. However, the rumors are that they have killed innocents as well, burning whole villages to the ground. Who they are, no one knows. Harbingers of the plague, dark guardians, no one is certain. All that is truly known is that the darkness is only growing, the madness spreading like the disease with it. Lords hide behind their walls as their people suffer and die, people look to anything that gives them hope that all will return to normal, but people are running out of hope even as the whispers of these....raven knights persist...
Remember the Fall of Thora
Join the Fight, End the War, One Cricket at a Time!
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Thora....it seemed so long ago when in reality it was perhaps only 2 years ago. 2 years ago when humanity as we knew it was given an answer to the age old question. Are we alone in the universe? No. Now however, we wish we were alone. The outer colonies began going dark at first, communication suddenly going quiet, ships stopped returning. People thought it was just piracy, by products of civil war. The last thing ANYONE thought was extra-terrestrial creatures. Let alone that these creatures were invading human controlled planets. They were developing worlds, sure. Worlds that often had spotty communication till Alliance forces set up proper channels. Then they attacked Thora. A world that bolstered a population at one point of 10.6 billion people. A world that the Swarm completely occupied in less than 3 days.
Day One, they made contact over the city of Ember. The sky darkened, Crickets in the billions swarming and infesting the city; killing everyone and everything in sight.........
By day two, the Alliance set up defensive positions and tried to push the Swarm back. A battle that lasted less than 7 hours and ended with a crippling defeat for the Alliance's troops.........
By day three, planetary evacuation began. What humans remained abandoned Thora. A population that had once been almost 11 billion people was barely 2,000 people now. Thora was infested and humanity had been dealt a terrifying lesson. Humanity was not only alone, it was also out gunned horribly.
That however, was 2 years ago....
The Massacre of Thora had been a message, now humanity is sending it's own message. Retribution.....
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The RP in question takes place in the 31st Century and would take place 2 years after the first contact with the Swarm, a race of alien creatures that have been terrorizing human colonies and wiping them out in a matter of weeks. Our characters would be a pair of survivors who had managed to survive Thora and decide to join up with the Alliance to get some payback and perhaps retake their homeworld. We would follow these survivors as they go through boot camp and become selected for a special program that should turn the tide of the war. After training/boot camp, they would be assigned to the Alliance cruiser known as the 'Retribution' (hence the title), a ship manned by the last survivors of Thora, making up what is known as the Thoran First and Only. From there, we would follow them as they fight the Swarm and soon discover just how big of a threat they really are....
Join the Fight, End the War, One Cricket at a Time!
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Thora....it seemed so long ago when in reality it was perhaps only 2 years ago. 2 years ago when humanity as we knew it was given an answer to the age old question. Are we alone in the universe? No. Now however, we wish we were alone. The outer colonies began going dark at first, communication suddenly going quiet, ships stopped returning. People thought it was just piracy, by products of civil war. The last thing ANYONE thought was extra-terrestrial creatures. Let alone that these creatures were invading human controlled planets. They were developing worlds, sure. Worlds that often had spotty communication till Alliance forces set up proper channels. Then they attacked Thora. A world that bolstered a population at one point of 10.6 billion people. A world that the Swarm completely occupied in less than 3 days.
Day One, they made contact over the city of Ember. The sky darkened, Crickets in the billions swarming and infesting the city; killing everyone and everything in sight.........
By day two, the Alliance set up defensive positions and tried to push the Swarm back. A battle that lasted less than 7 hours and ended with a crippling defeat for the Alliance's troops.........
By day three, planetary evacuation began. What humans remained abandoned Thora. A population that had once been almost 11 billion people was barely 2,000 people now. Thora was infested and humanity had been dealt a terrifying lesson. Humanity was not only alone, it was also out gunned horribly.
That however, was 2 years ago....
The Massacre of Thora had been a message, now humanity is sending it's own message. Retribution.....
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The RP in question takes place in the 31st Century and would take place 2 years after the first contact with the Swarm, a race of alien creatures that have been terrorizing human colonies and wiping them out in a matter of weeks. Our characters would be a pair of survivors who had managed to survive Thora and decide to join up with the Alliance to get some payback and perhaps retake their homeworld. We would follow these survivors as they go through boot camp and become selected for a special program that should turn the tide of the war. After training/boot camp, they would be assigned to the Alliance cruiser known as the 'Retribution' (hence the title), a ship manned by the last survivors of Thora, making up what is known as the Thoran First and Only. From there, we would follow them as they fight the Swarm and soon discover just how big of a threat they really are....
Victorian England wasn't known for being a safe period for the common folk. Criminals roaming the streets, robber barons working people to death, people were knew fear on a day to day basis. None more so than the inhabitants of Whitechapel, an overcrowded place with rampant crime and poor sanitation. A place filled with immigrants and people just trying to survive and hope they can make it home before a knife finds it's way in their spine. Something however stalks the streets of Whitechapel. The common folk speak of a creature that moves like water, that hunts criminals and beats them to bloody pulps on a nightly basis. A guardian devil. Little do they know that this.....devil is not a creature of Hell. Rather, he's a man of flesh and blood but unimaginable will. A man by the name of Matthew Murdock, a respected lawyer and well known for looking out for the little man. A man one seems to be completely incapable of lying to....
Whitechapel Devil #1
Whitechapel Devil #2
Slice of Life
Boyfriend x Girlfriend
Friend x Tomboy Friend
Nerd x Popular
Coworker x Coworker
Aunt x Nephew
Cousin x Cousin
Brother x Sister
Mother x Son
Rich Man x Poor Prostitute
Photographer x Model
Writer x Fan/Friend
Medieval/Urban Fantasy
Ancient Vampire x Modern Vampire
Vampire x Vampire
Vampire x Human
Vampire x Werewolf
Werewolf x Werewolf
Werewolf x Human (Plot in Mind)
Knight x Witch
Warlock/Witch x Knight
Knight x Princess/Tribal Leader
Knight x Knight
Warlock/Witch x Police Officer
Devil x Human
Demon x Witch
Adventurer x Adventurer
Beast x Witch (Plot in Mind)
Science Fiction
Android x Human
Creation x Creator
Mutant x Human
Mutant x Mutant
Alien x Human
Alien x Alien
Soldier x Civilian
Soldier x Soldier
Pilot x Pilot
Any number with an asterisk ( * ) should be considered NSFW:
1
2
3*
4*
5*
6
7
8
9
10*
11*
12*
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23*
24* (DEAD LINK)
25*
26
27*
28
29
30
31
32*
33*
34 (Questionable)
35*
36*
37
38
39*
40*
41*
Atlas "Guardian of the Multiverse"
Nightclaw
Lightspeed
Snow Owl
Robo
Shatter Star
Aquamarina "The Ocean Mistress"
Lady Freya "The War Maiden"
King Aquarius "The Ocean Master"
Katie Quasar
Robyn Hood
Lilith
Pagan
Wiccan
This is an opener for a medieval fantasy RP where IDEALLY you and I would be playing a pair of antagonists and protagonists in the same story. Below is the opening with my chief antagonist.
P r o l o g u e
Beneath The Black Spire
Deep Deserts
2 weeks ago...
For months, the slaves in the catacombs beneath the spire had been whispering of a voice that called to them in their dreams. The voice of a woman that beckoned them to dig into the stone and to dig deep, that she was waiting for them to free her and would reward them graciously. At first, it seemed like nothing more than an urban legend. Lord Thibor Ferenczy had responded by throwing the mortals into the Reaver pens where they were killed and they themselves became Reavers. However, the whispers persisted still. Thibor wasn't an idiot. The whispers were happening for a reason and he couldn't ignore them forever, let alone keep throwing slaves to the Reavers. So, Ferenczy responded by telling the overseers to allow the slaves to dig and to report to him if they found anything of significance.
At first, he heard nothing. Months passed and Thibor had nearly given up when one of the overseers came running into his chambers. The slaves had discovered an anti-chamber deep beneath the spire. What's more, there was a sarcophagus that appeared to be sealed tight. Thibor walked with purpose with the underling through the catacombs towards the dig site, his blood red eyes glowing in the dark. When he spoke, he had a voice that sounded like rolling thunder. Like the voice of a god (or a devil). It demanded you listen and held power in it's baritone.
"Have the slaves disturbed the sarcophagus?" the Lord asked as he moved ahead, the underling doing his best to keep in toe with his master.
"No, my lord. The slaves are eager to open it however. As we grew closer and closer to breaking ground into the antechamber, their dreams became more frequent to the point they were having waking dreams" the underling said. Interesting. Whatever was in the sarcophagus had a great deal of power, there was no doubt of that.
"Do we know how old the sarcophagus is?" he asked. The underling shook his head before speaking.
"Not exactly, my lord. Our mages theorize however that both the sarcophagus and the antechamber are nearly as old as the Spire itself" he said. Thibor's mouth twitched into a slight smirk. Perhaps whatever was in the sarcophagus could give him the secrets of the spire and explain why it was built in the first place. A wamphyri warrior passed by them, dragging a dead slave behind him. The corpse looked broken, bones jutting out of the skin and the head lulling back at an unnatural angle. Thibor looked to his underling for an explanation. "The antechamber is several stories beneath our feet. When we broke through, the slave fell to the ground below" he explained. Thibor chuckled. Such weak and fragile creatures. So easily broken. As Thibor approached the hole, he stepped onto the open air. He fell 4 stories down and landed without even a sound, his underling following as well and landing just as silently. Flickering light lit the chamber as 6 slaves formed a hexagon around the sarcophagus. It was black like obsidian but didn't seem to be made of stone but instead metal. Curious indeed. What was more curious was that the metal appeared to be radiating magical energy that made Thibor's hair stand on end.
The slaves twitched and shifted with their torches and tools in hand, eager to open the sarcophagus and combating the primal parts of their minds telling them to run from the immortal predators in the room. Thibor glanced at the slaves who looked to him for confirmation. Thibor raised a hand and signaled for the slaves to go ahead. The slaves moved all at once, quickly trying to move the lid of the metal coffin. They each strained but it appeared too heavy for six healthy slaves to move. It had to weigh more than 700 pounds. The slaves looked to their master, fearing punishment. Thibor scowled slightly, causing the slaves to flinch.
"Pathetic creatures" he growled quietly as he calmly approached the sarcophagus. He slipped his clawed fingers beneath the lid and lifted, straining only slightly as he flipped the lid onto the floor with a loud thud that cracked the stone it hit. Thibor looked inside and frowned. Inside was merely the remains of some mummified corpse, it's parchment like skin tight and showing the skeleton beneath. It had been a woman at one point from what the immortal could tell, but there was no detectable life in the corpse. Thibor growled in frustration, squeezing his knuckles enough that audible pops could be heard.
"How incredibly disappointing. Take these useless excuses of flesh to my lab. Perhaps I can make something useful out of their parts" he growled in annoyance, turning his back and walking towards where he'd fallen. The slaves began panicking and pleading for mercy immediately. 2 readied their tools to defend themselves as though it could protect them. One went running towards the sarcophagus, screaming in his savage tongue. As Thibor prepared to leap, an unnatural shriek rang out. The immortal lord turned to see that the corpse had sprung to life and had pinned the screaming slave. A green mist left the slaves mouth as his skin began to dry out and mummify. Miraculously, the mummies own skin began to become healthier again as she stood and set her sights on the other slaves. Thibor watched in fascination as this once dead creature drained the life out of these slaves. Incredible. With the slaves dead and her body restored, she looked to Thibor who motioned for his soldiers to back down. He was curious to see what she did...
P r o l o g u e
Beneath The Black Spire
Deep Deserts
2 weeks ago...
For months, the slaves in the catacombs beneath the spire had been whispering of a voice that called to them in their dreams. The voice of a woman that beckoned them to dig into the stone and to dig deep, that she was waiting for them to free her and would reward them graciously. At first, it seemed like nothing more than an urban legend. Lord Thibor Ferenczy had responded by throwing the mortals into the Reaver pens where they were killed and they themselves became Reavers. However, the whispers persisted still. Thibor wasn't an idiot. The whispers were happening for a reason and he couldn't ignore them forever, let alone keep throwing slaves to the Reavers. So, Ferenczy responded by telling the overseers to allow the slaves to dig and to report to him if they found anything of significance.
At first, he heard nothing. Months passed and Thibor had nearly given up when one of the overseers came running into his chambers. The slaves had discovered an anti-chamber deep beneath the spire. What's more, there was a sarcophagus that appeared to be sealed tight. Thibor walked with purpose with the underling through the catacombs towards the dig site, his blood red eyes glowing in the dark. When he spoke, he had a voice that sounded like rolling thunder. Like the voice of a god (or a devil). It demanded you listen and held power in it's baritone.
"Have the slaves disturbed the sarcophagus?" the Lord asked as he moved ahead, the underling doing his best to keep in toe with his master.
"No, my lord. The slaves are eager to open it however. As we grew closer and closer to breaking ground into the antechamber, their dreams became more frequent to the point they were having waking dreams" the underling said. Interesting. Whatever was in the sarcophagus had a great deal of power, there was no doubt of that.
"Do we know how old the sarcophagus is?" he asked. The underling shook his head before speaking.
"Not exactly, my lord. Our mages theorize however that both the sarcophagus and the antechamber are nearly as old as the Spire itself" he said. Thibor's mouth twitched into a slight smirk. Perhaps whatever was in the sarcophagus could give him the secrets of the spire and explain why it was built in the first place. A wamphyri warrior passed by them, dragging a dead slave behind him. The corpse looked broken, bones jutting out of the skin and the head lulling back at an unnatural angle. Thibor looked to his underling for an explanation. "The antechamber is several stories beneath our feet. When we broke through, the slave fell to the ground below" he explained. Thibor chuckled. Such weak and fragile creatures. So easily broken. As Thibor approached the hole, he stepped onto the open air. He fell 4 stories down and landed without even a sound, his underling following as well and landing just as silently. Flickering light lit the chamber as 6 slaves formed a hexagon around the sarcophagus. It was black like obsidian but didn't seem to be made of stone but instead metal. Curious indeed. What was more curious was that the metal appeared to be radiating magical energy that made Thibor's hair stand on end.
The slaves twitched and shifted with their torches and tools in hand, eager to open the sarcophagus and combating the primal parts of their minds telling them to run from the immortal predators in the room. Thibor glanced at the slaves who looked to him for confirmation. Thibor raised a hand and signaled for the slaves to go ahead. The slaves moved all at once, quickly trying to move the lid of the metal coffin. They each strained but it appeared too heavy for six healthy slaves to move. It had to weigh more than 700 pounds. The slaves looked to their master, fearing punishment. Thibor scowled slightly, causing the slaves to flinch.
"Pathetic creatures" he growled quietly as he calmly approached the sarcophagus. He slipped his clawed fingers beneath the lid and lifted, straining only slightly as he flipped the lid onto the floor with a loud thud that cracked the stone it hit. Thibor looked inside and frowned. Inside was merely the remains of some mummified corpse, it's parchment like skin tight and showing the skeleton beneath. It had been a woman at one point from what the immortal could tell, but there was no detectable life in the corpse. Thibor growled in frustration, squeezing his knuckles enough that audible pops could be heard.
"How incredibly disappointing. Take these useless excuses of flesh to my lab. Perhaps I can make something useful out of their parts" he growled in annoyance, turning his back and walking towards where he'd fallen. The slaves began panicking and pleading for mercy immediately. 2 readied their tools to defend themselves as though it could protect them. One went running towards the sarcophagus, screaming in his savage tongue. As Thibor prepared to leap, an unnatural shriek rang out. The immortal lord turned to see that the corpse had sprung to life and had pinned the screaming slave. A green mist left the slaves mouth as his skin began to dry out and mummify. Miraculously, the mummies own skin began to become healthier again as she stood and set her sights on the other slaves. Thibor watched in fascination as this once dead creature drained the life out of these slaves. Incredible. With the slaves dead and her body restored, she looked to Thibor who motioned for his soldiers to back down. He was curious to see what she did...
Quincy was rather annoyed at the moment. He was currently cuffed and sitting in interrogation room 3. It wasn't his favorite of the interrogation rooms. Room 1 was bigger but was usually disgusting from previous interrogations, 2 was about the same size as 3 but the chairs were wobbly, and 4 was practically a broom closet. He assumed it was mostly used for juveniles as Q sighed and shook his leg in impatience, rubbing his wrists as best as he could despite the cuffs that restrained him.
Quincy (or Q as he often preferred being called) was having something of a mixed bag for his night. About 3 hours ago, he'd been called to the Garda residence concerning the possible possession of their 16 year old daughter, Emily. He'd been there for about an hour till he'd finally finished and been forced to burn the house down with young Emily's corpse inside. One drive across town later, he barged into the fraternity home of Sigma Iota Delta and had pistol whipped several college students. Did they deserve it? You could argue that they didn't since there was no proof but Quincy had been given a confession by the demon that had tried tearing out of Emily's body.
Q had been brought in by a no neck officer, something about an anonymous tip concerning his time at the fraternity. There was perhaps true but he knew who was behind this, who would be coming in to interrogate him, who ALWAYS came in to interrogate him. One particular detective who was a rising star in the department and residential pain in Blackgate's ass. Don't get him wrong, Q liked the detective's tenacity. She was smart, capable, determined, just a monumental pain when he tried to do his job and tried not to seem suspicious. She didn't believe he was a real exorcist and certainly didn't believe in the Life and she was out to prove him a fraud and put him behind bars. He decided that it probably wouldn't be a good idea for any records existing of what would likely be said. Q closed his eyes and focused his will, whispering quiet enough that the security camera and recorder couldn't pick it up.
"Adflicto affligo" he whispered, pushing his will out towards the camera and recorder. Q smiled at the camera as the light winked out. The recorder had been fried as well. A total dead zone. He looked up just as the good detective came in, files in hand.
"Detective, good to see you again. What's it been a week since we spoke last?" he said with a sly but confident smile. No point in resisting or being uncooperative. No one had anything on him, no real proof of anything really. He was very careful and despite the tattoos and leather jacket, he wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't be much of an exorcist or a warlock if he was. Though he'd be the first to admit he did dumb things on occasion. Like make a dumb ass remark to someone like the detective who was currently armed and probably wouldn't have mind putting a few slugs in him just for shits and giggles
Quincy (or Q as he often preferred being called) was having something of a mixed bag for his night. About 3 hours ago, he'd been called to the Garda residence concerning the possible possession of their 16 year old daughter, Emily. He'd been there for about an hour till he'd finally finished and been forced to burn the house down with young Emily's corpse inside. One drive across town later, he barged into the fraternity home of Sigma Iota Delta and had pistol whipped several college students. Did they deserve it? You could argue that they didn't since there was no proof but Quincy had been given a confession by the demon that had tried tearing out of Emily's body.
Q had been brought in by a no neck officer, something about an anonymous tip concerning his time at the fraternity. There was perhaps true but he knew who was behind this, who would be coming in to interrogate him, who ALWAYS came in to interrogate him. One particular detective who was a rising star in the department and residential pain in Blackgate's ass. Don't get him wrong, Q liked the detective's tenacity. She was smart, capable, determined, just a monumental pain when he tried to do his job and tried not to seem suspicious. She didn't believe he was a real exorcist and certainly didn't believe in the Life and she was out to prove him a fraud and put him behind bars. He decided that it probably wouldn't be a good idea for any records existing of what would likely be said. Q closed his eyes and focused his will, whispering quiet enough that the security camera and recorder couldn't pick it up.
"Adflicto affligo" he whispered, pushing his will out towards the camera and recorder. Q smiled at the camera as the light winked out. The recorder had been fried as well. A total dead zone. He looked up just as the good detective came in, files in hand.
"Detective, good to see you again. What's it been a week since we spoke last?" he said with a sly but confident smile. No point in resisting or being uncooperative. No one had anything on him, no real proof of anything really. He was very careful and despite the tattoos and leather jacket, he wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't be much of an exorcist or a warlock if he was. Though he'd be the first to admit he did dumb things on occasion. Like make a dumb ass remark to someone like the detective who was currently armed and probably wouldn't have mind putting a few slugs in him just for shits and giggles
MORE TO COME! STAND BY!
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