Blood of The Father

[Vadriel]

V'kleta shook his head. "I fear that all my activities of late have made me quite tired...I think that Eloanneo has the right idea for now. If you hadn't already sensed them, I have been hard at work building an army out of the corpses of the demons we slew. I believe that that was the most draining thing. They will keep the tunnels clear around us so that we should be able to pass freely through them. But I am quite tired, and must rest...unless you offer up your souls' energies to sustain me, that is. No? Didn't think so. Good night."

V'kleta burrowed into the wall, creating an aerie as best he could, and began to slumber.

 

[VoxEladrin]

Vox was pondering this all very carefully. Why did he let V'kleta join? He seemed powerful enough and rightly so too. Perhaps too powerful. At any rate if V'kleta became an enemy, then there would be a war larger than the Third War. Vox would be privilaged with death and at the same time, lose the sweetness of life. He would keep a close eye on the now metamorphisized comrade.
"It seems we are all here. Shall we continue this quest?" Raphael was asking Vox. Vox nodded but said "We rest first. We dont know what else we are dealing with. Wolffang has much more older and fowler things than minor demons. He commands seven Avatars. Seven. Brother, if we run into them, we'll have a rather tedious battle on our hands. Remember the Magi towers three thousand years ago? When we fought three Avatars?"

 

[Vadriel]

At the mention of Avatars, Kir'halla perked up, listening. Such entities were unknown to it, but they sounded powerful. Their souls would likely provide great catalytic energy to complete V'kleta's transformation. The demon blade hoped that the time would come soon to add their souls to its collection. For now, however, it stood watch over V'kleta as he slept.

 

[Final Warrior]

"Seven soulless Avatars, spawned from Damnation and Magic itself... I am glad that I met you so quickly, Vox."

Raphael remembered his and Vox's first encounters with an Avatar. Utter carnage and devastation, and most surprisingly, no soul.

"We will need all of our powers if we are to face even a single Avatar."

Raphael drew out the Griffin's Talon and Death's Passion, tracing his fingers down the ancient runes upon the blades, speaking old incantations unknown to everyone with the exception of himself and his Father and Mother. Words that annihilated whole universes when they were wielded by Raphael's Father. The Griffin's Talon glowed a strange gold color, lighting up Raphael's normally empty eyes.

"Basilicus-Ensis del Tel'Machaera, awaken. Your Brother needs you. Three thousand years and you have yet to finish."

The Griffin's Talon glowed intensely, The runes blazing aqua. Raphael's mind burned as the blade sought to learn the souls of every being in the room, stayed only by Raphael's intense concentration. At the same time, Death's Passion burned a foreboding black, its visible aura burning away at the light.

"Occisoris-Pectus del Mortis, awaken. Your Keeper calls. Three thousand years and there are still souls."

The aura around Death's Passion became dense, almost physically tangible, the runes also glowing aqua as the sword of Death sought to unleash the souls bound within it, to annihilate everything, stayed only by the prescence of the Griffin's Talon.

Sweat dripping down his brow, Raphael held the swords, blades downturned, speaking more words of powers, those of healing and protection, to stay the powers of the swords. Minutes later, Raphael sheathed the still-glowing swords, kneeling. He remained like this, stone-still, no air moving within his lungs, no blood flowing within his veins. A state of suspended animation, of intense meditation.

((I'll leave Raphael like this until we depart. =P))

 

[VoxEladrin]

Vox watched in awe as he saw the two blades come to life again. They'd been asleep for three thousand years and Vox remembered the power of the blades back then. They caused chaos, wrought death, and brought life, all at the same time. He was a rather heroic person, Raphael, despite his heritage. He was the kind of person minstrels and bards would sing about for ages.

Vox was just a name in a history book. He did, however, get an interesting name for himself as the Red Hero. Red Hero...Definatly refering to his hair and his exploits in the Third War. He remembered painfully. Bodies of Orcs and men and his comrades littered the ground around himself. He was dogpiled by many Orcs and broke through. His body cut and bruised, his royal clothes shredded and ripped. He threw his arms up to the sky as a red light appeared in the heavens. He threw up his largest, most powerful (Magitto) technique into the air and everything turned to silver glass and he remembered no more.

OOC: Wooooo More backstory [/dance]

 

[Final Warrior]

((Two blades, hehe. The other two are gifts from Tyravael and Razael, and Raphael doesn't use them in respect of his family. =P

-- Griffinhart))

 

[Vadriel]

Kir'halla lost some of its interest when it was said that the Avatars had no souls, but not all useful energy is spirit energy. Surely these creatures remained powerhouses that could feed Kir'halla quite well. If a chance presented itself, the demon blade was certain that V'kleta could destroy these creatures. After all, centuries ago, not even hundreds of thousands of highly-trained warriors fighting with the strength of desperation had been able to even slow him down. And he was so much more than he used to be...

Yes, any battle with these "Avatars" would definitely prove interesting...

 

[VoxEladrin]

Vox snapped out of "memory lane" and stood up then closed his icey blue eyes. He summoned up all of his power. All of the power he could remember having. He may not be at full strength yet but he could surely take on these Avatars when the need arises. Not alone, of course. Not even V'kelta could take them on alone and he was pulsating with power. Of course, Vox knew very little of V'kleta or anyone else for that matter. He only knew his brothers-of-the-soul and that was it.

His eyes snapped open and they (literally) burned with purple/black flames. His legs were replaced with the same purple/black flames of the Dark Flame Warrior. His arm muscles were more defined under the blue tunic and armor. He pulled Ilya out of his back, or what was once Ilya. The blade that was white was replaced with a blacker-than-night blade that screamed of countless tortured souls locked inside of it forever. The blade that was bled was remade.

"The Dark Flame Warrior and Deathscream have awoken to fight again." said a voice from Vox's body that was not his own. It was more...menacing in a way. He seemed even more cruel than Vox did while hunting demons. "He who commands Ice and Fire is now ready to absorb more impure souls.

 

[Static]

(cann someone please tell me whats been poppin since mid page 5 about all this avatar stuff?)

 

[VoxEladrin]

((Vox was explaining that there was worse to come and said that Wolffang has seven avatars as bodyguards. Each has about five times the powers of Vox, Raphael and anyone else combined. Vox and Raph fought three before and that was hard enough.))

 

[Final Warrior]

((Think of all this stuff as the three million "powering up" episodes between every five minute fight in DBZ.

-- Griffinhart))

 

[Vadriel]

((V'kleta's "powering up" has mostly taken place. And with the nigh-boundless power coursing through him right now, plus the steadily-growing army of undead demons under his command, I think he could take on at least 3 at once by himself. If he absorbs too much more energy, he's probably going to go through another hyper-evolution. Probably absorbing the energies of a single Avatar will do it, if they're as powerful as you say. And once he hits Drakotaur form...he becomes more Demon than anything else...and most of the J'kar part of him is replaced by the Beliar part of him. And just for your information, Beliar is his father, and is actually the worshipped deity of the most Hellish plane of existance...the equivalent of Satan himself. The only way Beliar was ever defeated was when he was fused with J'kar by Kir'halla...I doubt even seven Avatars can bring down that beast once he awakens. Luckily, it'll take an almost universe-destroying amount of energy to do that, so...))

 

[Kitty]

((I imagine Eloanneo will be feeling quite plain when she awakens...compared to the rest of yous, she's got no amazing powers to hide. Hehe. ))

 

[VoxEladrin]

((We can get moving now.))

The Dark Flame Warrior looked at the others around himself. He nodded gruffy and motioned out of the sanctuary. "We head out to our battle, our doom. Fight like you've never fought before and we may just survive these abominations called Avatars." He raised Deathscream up and the countless souls within's cries rang louder, the constant moaning and screaming with every motion of the blade. The massive blacker-than-night sword swung down and the Dark Flame Warrior charged off in a trail of purple/black flames.

He fought his way effortlessly through the waves of underlings for miles, cutting a path for the rest. When he stopped, he was infront of four of the seven Avatars. Each massive frame was a stone-gray with an equally neutral expression on their cracked faces. They each stood about ten feet tall and had massive rocky muscles. They may look like stone, but their elements were all combined. They were versatile killing machines alone and chaos bringing powerhouses in groups.

"Let's do this, HYAH!!!" The Dark Flame Warrior howled as he leapt into the air and swung Deathscream downwards, the black blade hungering for the souls which were not there. The blow glanced off of the Avatar he attacked, just as expected. It didn't even look like it tickled it.

EDIT: Final, You made the Avatars last time. If there's anything wrong with my description, you may correct it on your own post.

 

[Final Warrior]

((Let's change 'em up this time... I'm thinking the Seven Deadly Sins. better yet... lemme do a little plot-twistery, if that's okay with you.))

"The Devil's sons, it seems."

The Final Warrior charged out the cavern, glowing energy coursing off his swords. Spinning and swinging, he cut down Demons with but a thought, cleaving through nightmares and horrors like fire through fat. As he killed more and more demons, his blades became brighter and brighter, but his armor became darker, as black as Death.

Reaching the first Avatar, the Final Warrior leapt straight up, ten feet, face-to-face with his Damnation. Roaring, he threw both blades into the creature's face, shattering it into pieces. Landing, the Final Warrior yelled out over the chaos of combat.

"These are not Avatars! They are... impure imitations!"

((Vox, I'll PM you with more details. =P))

 

[VoxEladrin]

((I understand. You're in charge of all of this not-Avatar-but-Deadly-Sin stuff. i dont know all of them.))

The Dark Flame Warrior stared at the creature infront of himself and saw that it was Lust taken on the form of himself. The Sin was carrying something equally as powerful as Deathscream in his arms and he charged at the Dark Flame with his own blade and the two massive black swords clashed with such force that the ground shook. They beat at each other at lightning fast speed, purple/black flames shooting out of every swing and moans of suffering from the blades with every blow.

 

[Vadriel]

V'kleta, slightly refreshed but still somewhat drained from the resurrections of his armies, expertly carved his own path through the demon hordes, absorbing the souls of his victims as he went. The numbers of enemies he defeated were so immense that by the time he made it to the Sins, he was positively glowing with stored power. Unable to completely command it all, even with the help of Kir'halla, tendrils of it were bleeding off of him, whipping around causing devastation to the caves around him.

Peering at the two warriors doing battle as well as their opponents, he recognized the beasts before him. Ah, the Sins. V'kleta was well aquainted with the Circle of Seven. Maybe not in THIS reality, but in the one that he had dominated so long ago, the Sins were actually slaves to him. V'kleta smiled inwardly at the memories which had returned during the battle through the demon warriors, prompted by the intense influx of soul energies. It was quite obvious to him which would be the first Sin with which he was to contend. He was nothing in this new state if not Wrath.

He stepped confidently forward, the Sin that represented his greatest vice mirroring him. They stood face to face, almost identical...except that while V'kleta's transformation was not fully complete, and he had not yet attained Drakotaur form, his nemesis was the full embodiment of the beast that had laid waste to an entire Realm aeons ago.

The perversion of the Centaur form was almost beautiful in its brutality...the part that would be a horse instead a powerful demonic dragon body, its armored black scales shining with malice. The humanoid portion greatly mirrored V'kleta's current torso, but the superficial horns and blades were greatly enhanced, and his wings were even more massive. The horns on his head had grown into great, twisted knots of bone that swept across his head like the Devil's crown. His long hair had lengthened even further, turning black and cascading down his back, writhing like a nest of venomous serpents. His number of eyes had grown to six, and his jaws were no longer able to disguise themselves as those of normal humanoids, their numerous mandibles and parts constantly shifting around in a silent torrent of demonic screams.

V'kleta looked opon all that he once was and all that he would soon become once more, and smiled further. This battle would be quite memorable...he loosely gripped the skeletal hilt of Kir'halla, and the beast in front of him manifested his own version of the demon blade in preparation for the coming assault. With his grin still shining darkly upon his face, V'kleta charged in to meet his demon.

((Will RP the fight after someone else gets here...my post is too long to add the long, drawn-out battle that I intend to occur. Also, Final, could you PM me the details of the creatures as well? I want to know what your definition of these creatures is, so that I don't take it too far off.))

 

[Kitty]

((Does this mean everyone gets an avatar-Sin-doppleganger they will fight?))

 

[VoxEladrin]

((Yea, you must face one of the seven sins that represent your character. In Vox's case it's Lust. Lust for power and lust for love.))

 

[Vadriel]

((All right, so here we go! I love this shit.))

V'kleta charged in at Wrath and lashed out with Kir'halla, the shaft of the scythe becoming loose and yielding like a chain that whipped around in a deliberate, snakelike pattern. The blade was met by its counterpart, the blades locking, and V'kleta used the greater strength of his enemy to pull himself over to stand on the beast's chest, opened his jaws, and tore a huge chunk out of Wrath's throat, then catapulted himself off of its chest, out of the reach of the retaliating claws. V'kleta landed on the ceiling and clung there like a spider before jumping to the ground as his former spot exploded into a shower of rocky debris from the impact of his enemy's tailblade.

Kir'halla uncoiled from the its twin and slithered back to V'kleta's waiting hand, and in one smooth motion V'kleta twirled the blade in an arc of soul-devouring death and gouged a massive chunk from the tail of the beast as it yanked its tail out of the ceiling and back to the ground. With a snarl of rage, Wrath slammed V'kleta in the chest with its bleeding tail, sending him flying backwards and knocking Kir'halla from his hand. His flight was promptly halted, however, as a powerful beat of V'kleta's wings reversed his trajectory and he barreled back into the great demon. Locking arms, the two enemies snarled into each others' faces before Wrath knocked V'kleta back again with a huge shove, and turned to deliver a dragon-clawed mule-kick to V'kleta as he again flew back into him.

V'kleta dodged the blow, executing a flip and sliding on his back underneath the four legs of the dragon portion of the creature. When he cleared the underneath, he clamped his foot claws onto the groin-like area between the two front legs and bent backwards to reach over his shoulders and dig his claws into Wrath's face, anchoring himself as he beat the larger creature mercilessly with his four powerful wings. Bludgeoning the beast with the incredibly powerful muscles of perhaps his deadliest weapon, he snarled with rage and dug his claws in deeper into the cheeks of the demon.

Wrath roared in pain and firmly grabbed V'kleta's upper set of wings and planted a foot in the small of V'kleta's back. He shoved hard, and ripped V'kleta's top wings off, catapulting V'kleta into a rocky wall of the cavern. The beast snarled in malicious glee and tossed the wings down to either side, then barreled forward to finish V'kleta off. V'kleta, however, had other plans, and was far from finished.

From the bleeding stumps of his upper set of wings, he forged some of the boundless energy flowing through him into a set of flaming replicants of his lost appendages. He spun at the charging Wrath and slammed the fiery new additions directly into the face of the beast, blackening the skin and blinding it. Wrath flailed in anger, bellows of vicious hate and pain filling the cavern. V'kleta allowed the wings to dissipate, and flipped onto the beast's back, plunging his claws through its armored hide to embed themselves in tough flesh. He tore the wings off of Wrath, payback quite due in his opinion. Then, he buried his claws in the armored skin of the great demon's neck.

With a satisfied and confident smirk, V'kleta tore the beast's head off. The flails of the Drakotaur demon intesified, and V'kleta launched off of the dying Wrath. The death throes of the massive Sin devastated its surroundings, rock flying everywhere. A chunk of it caught V'kleta in the shoulder, shattering the bone and spraying blood everywhere. Uncaring, V'kleta watched with satisfaction as the decapitated beast collapsed and died, its massive corpse surrounded by stone debris from its final throes.

V'kleta turned the head around in his hands and stared deep into the heatblinded eyes of the beast. So this was his destiny? This was what he would become? He welcomed it. He embraced it. He revelled in it. So his Sin was Wrath? So be it. It was and would continue to be. There could never be any other way.

V'kleta decided to keep the head of the beast. It would make a magnificent trophy for his throne room once he had brought this Realm to its knees before him.

Kir'halla slithered up to him and rose into his hand, the demonic scepter of a demonic king, and whispered a reminder in his mind. Ah, yes. The power of the beast. V'kleta held out the demon scythe to the corpse of the massive Sin and the hellforged weapon drew into it all the power of the great Wrath. When it was finished, V'kleta had completely regenerated, and his very flesh was aglow with power, a visible aura of orange and black swirled flame broiling around him.

Let the other Sins come. Let anything come. He would destroy them. He was V'kleta Uundr'vachen. He was their King. He was their God.