[RP] The amnesiastic hero party.

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Cr25pltro6
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[RP] The amnesiastic hero party.

Post by Cr25pltro6 » Thu Jan 09, 2020 7:57 am

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[Disclaimer: This image is not mine. This image is being used strictly for entertainment purposes only. If the artist asks me to take this art down I will.]

A red moon casted an eerie red glow across a barren and arid land. A land where trees are replaced with Impaled demons and the clouds rained not water, but flesh-eating acid. This land would normally be deemed as non-inhabitable, but that assumption would be broken when you look just a little bit closer. For hiding in this death-ridden landscape was a castle that was buried in the coarse dirt. The only signs of it's existence was the singular tower that rose three stories aboveground. However, that was not the only oddity, for if one were to listen closely at the busted door of the tower, they could hear the sound of steel clashing against steel and the ear shattering explosions that could only be magic blasts.

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Grimacing in pain, Vestroraun clutched his right side. Coating his hand in his own blood as his eyes glowed with an unholy rage that would terrify any normal demon or mortal. "YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME? THE MOST POWERFUL DEMON KING!" he screamed defiantly as he used his right hand (the least broken limb in his body) to throw a fireball at one of the heros.

Unfortunately, the fireball was both weak in power and accuracy. This was evident when the targeted hero dodged the fireball by simply moving two steps to the right. Vestroraun cursed as a retaliatory strike forced him to dodge backwards. The worst part wasn't that he could barely dodge that weak swipe, the worst part was that the blood flowing from his head wound kept getting in his eyes, preventing him from seeing who attacked him. He formed a defensive stance, preparing to hold his ground to his last breath, until his left leg collapsed underneath him. Forcing him to fall backwards directly onto his broken and singed throne that laid pitifully behind him.

Gasping from the shock of hitting his throne a single thought echoed through his head 'What a shame'. His throne, once radiating with power and dominance, was now to be stained with his weakness and dishonor. Vestroraun could feel his body starting to die as he hacked out a few ounces of blood. Was this how he would die? Was this his legacy?

'NO!!!' he screamed in his head, Vestroraun would not be the first demon king in history to go down quietly! Forcing his already depleted magic reserves into overdrive, he brute forced a primitive healing spell. Immediately, his hacking and wheezing started to calm down. A devious glint in his eye pierced his battered face as he formed a desperate last-minute plan.

Yes, he was going to die in his castle. Sad as it was to think about, it was only inevitable. The heros destroyed his royal guard whilst battling their way to his throne room and had beaten him within an inch of his life. Add to the fact that any real reinforcement wouldn't arrive until another half an hour from now and anyone would agree that his neck was already in the guillotine.

Yes, he would die, but he would also get the last laugh. A laugh that will echo across history in the form of everlasting pain and misery! However, he needed time. Just a little bit...

Drawing in a deep breath, he spoke in a struggling and raspy voice "You win heros. My lungs are filling with blood, my heart is slowing to a stop, and my brain is leaking out of my skull. My death is nigh" He hung his head low and slumped in his throne as he continued. "If it wouldn't trouble you to humor a dying man in his last seconds, can you tell me why you did all this?" Gesturing with a weak nod towards the burning and destroyed remains of what used to be his throne room, he added "Why did you come into my kingdom, slaughter my subordinates, and decided to end my life?"
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Gecko
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Re: [RP] The amnesiastic hero party.

Post by Gecko » Tue Jan 14, 2020 2:54 pm

Amity stood farthest from the Demon King, her hands aglow with vibrant spectral light in preparation of a healing spell to cast on her friends. She had cuts and scrapes and bruises all across her face and arms, but it was nothing compared to the villain they faced. Nay, the villain they had finally defeated. Luckily the party wasn't too badly injured, partially thanks to her capable healing abilities. She always put their injuries before her own while constantly healing away, but Amity was able to cast the occasional damaging spell to the king. The spellcaster almost felt empathy for him as he helplessly hacked and wheezed, dying in his own throne room.

He pointlessly launched a weakly glowing orb of fire at one of the party, one that only confirmed his downfall. Amity's hands dimmed their glow as the spell went away, grasping her frayed staff in her left hand as Vestroraun gave his dying words and final question. Did he even deserve an answer? After the slaughtering of thousands of innocent people under his command, did he truly deserve to have the question be answered? An even bigger question tugged at her battle-fuzzed mind: how could Vestroraun not know what he did? It was pathetic, but the more she thought about it, the more rage built up inside of her.

"Are you that stupid?" Amity finally snapped as she walked towards the king, her frustrations and anger pouring out of her. "Do you not know about all of the friends we've lost, the innocent people that are dead, the children with no mothers and the fathers with no families? How dare you even ask the question! You slaughtered civilians without a care, and the ones that initially survived were so wounded that not even magic could save them. They died in our arms with nothing but the sliver of hope that you would one day fall victim of your own crimes. And it looks like that day has finally caught up with you. But if you truly didn't know that, then you're more sad and lost than I thought."

There was so much more to be said, but she couldn't find the right words. Words couldn't even begin to describe what she felt and what the world had been put through. Having given up on trying to explain, Amity paused and looked at the others before stepping back. A part of her had been wanting to rant at the king for so long now that the opportunity couldn't be missed, and she wouldn't to take that moment back at all. Taking a deep breath, she recollected herself and glared at Vestroraun once more, now more ready for him to die than anything. She held her cloak tightly around herself and waited.
Last edited by Gecko on Wed Jan 15, 2020 4:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
To quote Hamlet Act III, Scene iii, Line 87..."no."
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Re: [RP] The amnesiastic hero party.

Post by harbinger. » Tue Jan 14, 2020 7:16 pm

Kalkarra stepped back from the pitiful form of the Demon King. Her breathing was slightly erratic, knocked from its normally controlled pace; the blow she had taken to her side had definitely snapped a few ribs- the healing spell Amity had sent Kalkarra's way had definitely knit them back together, but a stitch job done in the middle of a battle was only enough to keep her on her feet. Adrenaline helped her ignore the pain- the blood-haze of battle helped drown out a lot- but now, in the winding down, Kalkarra could feel every knit bone, clotted cut, and deep bruise.

She clenched her hands tighter around her axes, feeling the leather stick against her palms. It was familiar and grounding and it helped her fight through the throb of pain her breathing brought. She remembered her training, remembered the greater pains she had experienced there, and all of her aches fell out of focus.

Vestroraun's wet, rattling breaths were suddenly loud in her ears and his words came slow, slick with the blood that welled in his mouth from his numerous wounds. The sight brought Kalkarra a vicious sense of victory; she was apart of this- his ruin and his misery and that was a very good feeling indeed. What he was saying finally registered to her and Kalkarra let her lips pull back in a sneering smile- as ugly as the demons they had just cut down.

He knew he was dying- the great Demon King was succumbing to defeat, and he was making a pathetic scramble for a few moments of life. She had seen this before- many, many times before. It seemed even demons faced death with hesitance.

Kalkarra didn't plan to answer the demon- if her bowstring hadnt snapped earlier in the battle, she would've planted an arrow in his eye already since she was too far to confidently make her axe a home in his skull. When Amity answered, with an anger and earnestness that nearly shocked Kalkarra, the mercenary almost snorted. She knew what she was here for, and it wasn't for the razed kingdoms or a demonic regime. Plain and simple, it was for her continued livelihood- coin and contracts- and a world destroyed by demons with terrible business sense was not good for her career.

It helped that she would get a good deal of the loot a King- even a demon one- would have.

Amity's words led to a ringing silence.

Until Kalkarra snorted, shaking her head absently. "You have an awful lot of breath left in your lungs for a dead man. But, since you still have the gall to speak, I'll ask you: why the invasion? Why the death and the pain and the eradication of so much land? What did you have to gain but chaos?"

It was a question that had plagued Kalkarra constantly since Fallkirk; it had been a necessary evil to her, an opportunity for more. But the complete waste of life was something Kalkarra wasn't blind to, and it haunted her at times- when she didn't have a weapon in her hand or danger in her sight.
"We are Harbinger."

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