CoS Home    Cos FAQ    Register CoS    Register    Login    Forum    Forum FAQ

Board index » Citadel of Sorcery General Discussions » Roleplaying




Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 4 posts ] 
Author Message
 Post Posted: Fri Jun 20, 2014 12:01 am 
Offline
Patron Scribe
Patron Scribe
User avatar

Joined: Tue Mar 25, 2014 11:27 am
Posts: 6
(( Feel free to reply! :D Let's get something going! I have a vague idea of what's going on/what this thread is, but it may very well become something different... based on your decisions. ))


The man steps into the hallway, turning his head to watch the flickering flame of the torches in silence before letting the grim orbs flick to each small sphere of scarlet light. He lifts his hand, lips guiding only airy syllables into being. A great gale seems to rise from beneath his black-grey robes, and after a moment it heaves outwards with a soft groan, gushing down the narrow hall and taking the life of the flames with it.

Darkness.

He moves through this blackness, his left hand tracing the catacomb wall. He holds a small orb in the other palm, covering the firelight emanating from deep inside its glass with calloused fingers. The artifact was a temporary creation, an enchanted marble imbued with the desiccated essence of Jenemosian eyeball. It let his feeble human eyes pierce the onyx veil of the deep dungeon's dark.

He rounded a corner and the orb told him of a presence in the shadows ahead, causing him to halt. He couldn't yet see it, but he could hear the quiescent gurgle of saliva bubbling in its throat. He held out his left hand, his lips silently speaking once more. The shadows coalesced in his palm, and a wickedly sharp kris of aphotic steel took shape: the dagger was of such darkness that it contrasted with the pitch-black halls of the dungeon. His feet slid into a lower stance, and he advanced through the corridor. As he came closer, the gurgling grew louder, and a silhouette took shape in the gloomy Jenemosian sight: it was a creature larger than himself, and its head hung at angle as if its neck was snapped. It bore the muzzle of a horse, and its body was long and lithe, like a panther's. And if that wasn't enough, a long extremity curled sickeningly upwards from its behind, bearing a vicious stinger at the tip.

The sorcerer looked down at his tiny black dagger, and then back to the creature. Damn it.

He crept closer, holding his breath as he tried to get a better look at it. Of course... zombified. He let his willpower focus intently on the dagger, and only the dagger, sending as much radiant energy as fast as he could into the steel. He lunged at the thing, stabbing as hard as he could into the beast's throat. Cold saliva mixed with stagnant pus-filled blood splashed on Aphet's arm as he kept running down the hallway, the creature howling in agony as the radiant energy sizzled and burnt its flesh. As he passed, he was able to see the thing in its entirely. Despite having the head of a mare, the face of a man was sewn into its flesh, its eyelids sewn open. Its two front legs were actually human arms, and the back two were that of a panther's (at least he had guessed right about two things.) Even worse: it had wings. Thick, ugly, bat wings with large spines of bone sticking out of each finger-like membrane. Fortunately, the hall was too small for it to use those wings.

Great. I just stabbed a zombie manticore. He thought, hot with frustration directed (mostly) at himself, That is not how you slay the undead.

He heard it shrieking as lumbering footsteps chased after him, the awkward gait of human hands and panther feet slowing it down as its back legs slipped on the stone tiles. Aphet turned a corner, just as he felt heat whiz behind him, and a loud thud. He glanced behind him to see a large spike embedded in the wall, dripping with some probably poisonous secretion. It had left a trail of smoke in the air behind it, and it stunk of burning hair. Aphet stopped running, turning to face the corner. As far as he could see, this hallway went on for a long ways, and only grew narrower. The creature would impale him before he got too far.

He began to chant, his breath heavy from his sprint. With each syllable, the air around him quivered, enveloping him with cyclonic currents of grim energy. He began to funnel this energy in between his hands, forced to drop the orb of darksight as he did so, causing it to crack and roll somewhere on the dungeon floor. The energy seemed to vibrate between his fingers, forming an oscillating orb of pressure. He compressed it as much as he could, trying to fit as much energy as possible between his palms. A few more spikes flew into the wall, moving so fast the air was briefly aflame, each one's landing punctuated with a screech or bellow of unadulterated hate from the manticore. Sparks lit up the catacomb as the energy grew massive between Aphet's fingers.

The manticore turns the corner, limbs flailing wildly and sound echoing from its severed throat and mouth. Aphet held on a moment longer, taking a step back into a sturdier stance as he forced an ounce of radiant energy into the sphere of grim magic, angling his fingers towards the beast as its stinger reared back, poised to strike. Almost as if a lit match to a stream of gasoline, the sphere became a cone of chaotic conflagration, consuming the beast and causing it to stumble backwards in some sort of primal fear-- or pain, the sorcerer couldn't really see because the flames were so bright. As it burned, it let out such a loud wail that Aphet's ears erupted with pain.

The ashes left behind were all the sorcerer really needed to see. He shuddered, weakened by the powerful spell. His limbs trembling, he got to his knees to search for the artifact. Each time he blinked, he found that images of the sewn flesh face, forever frozen in agony, were seared into the black canvas of his closed eyes.


Top 
 Profile  
 
 Post Posted: Fri Jun 20, 2014 12:57 am 
Offline
Hero of the Citadel
User avatar

Joined: Sat Aug 11, 2012 5:47 am
Posts: 564
Location: India
Deciding that he must move on however the sorcerer tried to stand up straight. But suddenly he found out that there was something on the ground which seemed to be removing his confidence and energy as well. It was a bit slimy and yet the scent that came up his nostrils started making him feel kinda dizzy. As he tried to get his bearings straight he found himself staring into the blood pooling out of the manticore... He heard a laughter also and tried to find the source which turned out to be another manticore claiming it wanted to watch how its experimented manticore had survived...

_________________
Image


Top 
 Profile  
 
 Post Posted: Fri Jun 20, 2014 10:54 am 
Offline
Patron Scribe
Patron Scribe
User avatar

Joined: Tue Mar 25, 2014 11:27 am
Posts: 6
Aphet wiped the sticky substance onto his robes, his nose wrinkled and brow furrowed. The other manticore held up a hand, bearing an unlit torch. It clicked its tongue and the torch came to life with a blazing crimson flare.

This manticore looked very different from the other. It had two arms, as well as four legs, and it had the entire head of a human. Its lower body was golden and powerful, that of a lion, and the two arms were thin and pink, belonging to a human woman. It had large, beautiful wings that looked taken from some majestic bird, but despite the rest of the creature's princely beauty, its tail was ugly and scaled, with tiny spikes dotting the lizardlike flesh.

It held the torch in one human hand, and in the other it held a large hooked spear, adorned with gold and sandstone. Its voice rumbled, low and powerful, "You have come to your grave?" It was clearly much more intelligent than its undead brother, and it was very much alive.

"Come with me, sorcerer." It glanced down at its dead brother, and the poisonous liquid that had covered the floor. "Do not try to fight. It will not end well for you." It ceremoniously dipped the sharp tip of its spear into the pool of dizzying liquid before turning slowly, heading back the way Aphet had came as if walking to the beat of a dirge. Its ears were pointed backwards, as if listening for the man's approaching footsteps.


Top 
 Profile  
 
 Post Posted: Sat Jun 21, 2014 5:21 am 
Offline
Hero of the Citadel
User avatar

Joined: Sat Aug 11, 2012 5:47 am
Posts: 564
Location: India
The Sorcerer tried to follow the Manticore which seemed a bit too fast for him to follow. He was surprised to know that there were other creatures around him which seemed intent on ignoring this Manticore and him. Deciding the manticore must be very dangerous he kept following it and found out he was going into a weird looking basement.

It seemed to have a variety of items like the head of a lion near which a human female body dripping with blood from the neck region without any head on it was floating in mid~air as he continued he found himself staring into a pair of weird eyes and a face seemed to come out of the dark. As he prepared himself for a fight he realized it was a statue of a human head with the body of a vulture attached to it and the leg region of the vulture was attached to the back side of a hyena which seemed to have the vulture's wings.

He was truly startled as more grotesque manner of creatures appeared slowly and the manticore seemed to be watching him and getting amused and interested in him for some reason... It asked him mockingly if he would like to join them and he had many tools to make the Sorcerer immortal and join one of his creations which even thou they looked like the statues they lived immortally...

_________________
Image


Top 
 Profile  
 
Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
 
Post new topic Reply to topic  [ 4 posts ] 

Board index » Citadel of Sorcery General Discussions » Roleplaying


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest

 
 

 
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot post attachments in this forum

Jump to:  
cron