In this world, Magic is Everything. All people, all races, are granted with the power to perform mystical and magical feats via grimories, mystical tomes granted to each and every child on their 15th birthday. Those blessed by the mana can have their names written down in legend.
Shattered Grimoires is the work of the mind(s) of Ardere & Shattered Grimoire's staff. All characters and content are copyright their creators, and may not be replicated without their creators' permission. Black Clover is owned by Yuki Tabata and published by Viz Shonen Jump. All images belong to their original owners. The theme you are currently viewing was made by Eliza of ElizaCodes exclusively for Shattered Grimoires.
I don't know where the future[break][break] will take us,[break][break] But we will blaze it together.[break][break]
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[attr="class","ardereescroll"]The black blood burned on Ardere's face sizzling against his mana skin, but he did not react. He'd take care of it with healing or regeneration, for now he only closed his eyes. For a moment, the Crimson King allowed himself to be lost in this small victory. This fight had only just begun and its adverse effects were already attempting to compromise the integrity of his team--they needed to get a grip and fast. I'll show you who the fool is...soon enough.. Unfortunately this moment did not last long as one of the Oni was Hell-bent on taking them all out with him. Shit. [break][break] He wasn't fast enough. Being the furthest away from the explosion made it hard for him to attempt a reaction. The Captain had no other choice than to put his faith in their Defensive mage--faith he knew was well placed. With a flash of light, the entire room shook. Pulling his swords in front of himself, the Arsenal would provide some protection. Ardere's body was also shielded by a golem, both of them sliding back across the ground as his mana skin crackled a bit. The swords were shattered and the golem was damaged, but he survived. That one hit would have easily shattered his magical protection. Cyrus! Gris! Bursting forth out of the smoke and cinders, he could see them--they were okay. As okay as they could be after this fight. Gris had taken the most damage, but he was no push-over. Nonetheless he ran over to help his comrade push aside any rubble and lift the other mage to his feet. The two men supporting him were tanky enough to survive, as was he. They were fortunate Cyrus had provided some protection, lest they enter their next fight at a disadvantage. I've already expended more mana than I had intended, but I'll be okay. The dragon visage on his body began to crack and fall to the ground in pieces as his limbs returned to normal, steam expelling from his body like a vent. You both did good. I wish we could rest, but Charles needs us. Wherever he was. [break][break] Dreams...he wondered if they were dreams after all. They were memories or somewhere in between. Ardere felt them linger in his heart, but they did not sadden him like the loss he experienced; they fueled his urge to press on. That Avatar or whatever he was...Ashford... Grinding down on his teeth, the thought of the Elf angered him. What monsters had been brought here? Don't dwell on those dreams. Those failures are not your own, they are his. The memories were meant to rattle us while we were separated from Charles. I don't know what their plan is, but it can't be a coincidence that the Silver mage was chosen. The Commander was one himself once...before he turned into whatever he is now. Even if it is a coincidence...we're going to help him. I believe Ashford might be the key to Aamon, though I have no idea what else he has in store for us. Rubbing his temples and exhaling deeply, the Crimson King composed himself. We stick together. Watch each other's back. No one is getting left behind, understood? Salamander was truly stirring now, rumbling like an echo in the deep sea of fire and rage. The Dragon King hungered for Justice--something he'd hopefully soon achieve. I don't think we can go back. So we must press on. And press on they would, to the next room--the next challenge that lay in store for them.
Post by Charles Constantine✾ on Oct 27, 2021 23:08:19 GMT -5
[NOSPACES]
"I'm no g e n i u s, I'm just a fool who keeps going forward."
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[attr="class","glentext"] The implication that the two were on the same side was strange. It was as if Alpha already jumped into that conclusion before even hinting towards it. Where are the two really on the same side? Perhaps they were similar, but it was hard to believe coming from a daemon. Now they were going game after game, whatever Alpha had in mind was a mystery to him. But, he knows that the games were merely a distraction. If the daemon managed to keep his mind busy with his games, then he would be able to carry with his plan without any actual way for Charles to figure it out. "Seems like you're right about that one." He replied to his comment, it was true he almost lost his cool there. A part of him was getting tired of his games, but he knew he had to be patient otherwise things could end badly. [break][break] Charles took the cards and read them for a brief moment. After he was done he returned them to Alpha. During that brief period when he handed the cards back to the daemon he felt as if somebody had slit his wrist. His facial expression suddenly changed to one filled with surprise. It was in such a short period of time that he couldn't even react to it. This was followed by a burning sensation on the area he believed his wrist had been slit. The silver mage turned to look at the area where he believed his wrist had been cut, only to realize that there was no cut. Instead, there was a small red line, but no blood. "...I assume you did this?" He asked him, turning to look to the daemon. It obvious it was him, but he had no clue why he did it. Was this part of the game or was it part of their previous bet? The mark on his wrist had to mean something. [break][break] "Well that's an interesting answer..." He replied to Alpha's comment. That meant a lot of things, the important detail he took into consideration when he mentioned that. Aamon's children were independent. That brought the possibility that the Archdaemon didn't control the whole tower, but daemons like Alpha did. Aamon was on the top of the tower, similar to a God that gave power to ones below him and let them do whatever they wished. Even he was possibly against it, they could do whatever they wanted. In a way, Alpha was just one of the many people in this place that could potentially bring somebody of interest to the top of the tower to Aamon. "I see what you're referring to now... You're determining if we are worth going to the top and meet your boss. You're given the freedom to do whatever is necessary, as long as it satisfies your master and gives him a worthwhile challenge..." It seems like he was starting to get an understanding behind the tower and its trials, all of this also implied the existence of others like Alpha. This also brought the possibility that there could very well be more than one Avatar of Aamon, but nothing was certain yet. It was still hard to determine Alpha's true intentions, he has kept him for so long, yet he didn't know for what exact reason yet. It was clear to him that the daemon was dodging all of his questions on purpose, he was hiding something from him. [break][break] Charles looked at the orb and looked at the outcome of their battle. One of the enemies they fought decided to do a kamikaze attack and blew himself up. It was a powerful explosion that would've killed your average magic knight with ease, but the silver mage believed his teammates will be able to withstand it. He was right about it, but as expected Alpha had won the bet. A part of him believed that his subordinates wouldn't be able to last long and resorted to a suicide attack to damage the rest. "You already knew you were going to win from the start." He knew his teammates were strong, but it was hard to avoid sustaining any kind of damage against such a big explosion. It was bound to happen and Alpha knew it. "Seems like you won." The winner was already decided way before Alpha had proposed the bet to him. [break][break] The battle was over and he knew that they were already aware that he was absent. They were likely already thinking of possible reasons behind his sudden disappearances. All because he stayed back, it changed things a lot, but maybe Alpha was able to predict all of this. [break]
The smoke cleared and the rumbling subsided after a few moments, they had some cuts, bruises, and even some damage to their individual ego’s but otherwise they were fine. Their mana was running low and it was easy to see that they would need to rest if they wanted to continue, but it was doubtful that they would get the rest that they needed or deserved. With the Oni gone they only had one way to go...a door at the end of the empty room had a spiral staircase that was large enough for them to scale the dungeon in a single file line. The air around them was beginning to grow stale and the mana was even thin here. Though the only way to tell would be to sense it...the dungeon itself was almost like a living organism in how the floors apparently acted or were constructed. A voice would be heard, coming from the direction of the staircase itself. It was haunting to say the least and gave off the same choking aura as before when the Avatar of Aamon was near.
”Come on up now...that little detour is over and we can get to the actual tests...oh and before you decide to ascend the stairs...choose one of you that will take part in this trial. I would advise you to not...go against what I am commanding you to do. Unlike the halfwit and that traitorous wench from before...I will not need to play tricks in order to kill you.” The voice spoke to them as if they were just insects...it did not care if they moved forward or even if they stayed where they were. Another peculiar thing about this place shows itself in this sentiment.
To Charles:
The admission of defeat...or what the assuredly implied victory that Alpha was thinking at that moment. After taking the liberty of...giving this boy a gift Alpha gave a quiet chuckle. ”Of course I won...you all play in MY game...not theirs...not hers...NOT. HIS.” Alpha was noticeably looking more and more pale as time ticked by. ”I think it is time that we...get you to your friends...my hand has been played anyway.” He spoke absentmindedly as he did not even look to Charles anymore, he even chuckled again before bringing his hands up and counting for a few moments. ”Charles I am going to send you back now...give that woman my regards.” He said before snapping as the floor would give way, putting Charles into free fall.
The drop would seem like it would take forever, and give Charles ample time to consider things, but as he was nearing the end of his journey a familiar feeling of being in Alpha’s presence could be felt. As if the disfigured daemon was still there, and then a sickening feeling...a crunch as Charles would land, feet first...he would not have the time to stop his fall or to even cushion it as he would land in the debris, something was broke...maybe a rib, maybe an arm...perhaps a leg? It would take a moment to take stock and find out what was wrong as the familiar voice would be heard. ”YOU! You’re alive!” Varisse runs over to Charles, the Avatar watches the scene play out before looking up at the ceiling as it closes up. ”So you...are still playing your little game.” The daemon chuckled before looking at Charles, then a foreign feeling...something he had not felt in over a century...Fear.
That is when Charles hears it for the first time…”Wakey Wakey Charles...The game is not over yet and now...MY pawn is on the board.” A sickening chuckle would finish out the chilling greeting as energy would course through Charles' body, healing his wounds in a few moments...faster than any support mage had been capable of.
GM Note:
IF the players in the Oni room choose to stay, they must make a decision together to do so, if you chose to stay...then option a. starts...
IF however, the players move on and choose to heal while walking, then they must make a decision on who will be their chosen warrior for the next trial.
I don't know where the future[break][break] will take us,[break][break] But we will blaze it together.[break][break]
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[attr="class","ardereescroll"]A sigh escaped the Captain's maw as sweat dripped down his brow. Ardere looked forward to the staircase, eyes fixed on nothing else for the moment. Turning to face his comrades after the voice pierced their ears, indicating their next choice. The Tower was nothing but choices it seemed--each one deciding their fate. Now the Crimson King was forced to make a decision that could endanger one if not all of their lives. Every fiber of his being screamed out to volunteer himself but he knew that would be unwise. They were far too low in the confines of the Coliseum to afford wasting that much of his strength. He had no doubt whatever this challenge was would take a lot out of the mage chosen and it could not be him. This decision pained the Captain, but now was the time to put his faith in one of their own. [break][break] As much as I would like to volunteer myself...I'm sure you all know it is not wise for me to do so. I would have normally sent Charles out, but he is likely ahead of us somewhere. So I will nominate you; Cyrus. You're a powerful mage in your own right. You've also got a versatile spell set from what I've seen, making you the logical choice for whatever lies ahead. Grinding his teeth, Ardere placed hips on his broad shoulders. Gripping the sword at his hip, shadows emanated from this abyssal armor he now adorned. He honestly had no idea what he was sending Cyrus into, but they had no choice here. He could only trust in the honor of their host. Aamon had a sense of honor, but did his underlings? I don't know what the trial will be, but I am putting my faith in you, Cyrus. Win for us. Giving a reassuring look to the sap mage, he turned back to face the stairs. [break][break] Giving the two a moment to discuss their options and react, he would likely not change his mind. Ardere worried for Charles' sake, but he had a feeling they were only getting closer to their objective. They just had to keep pushing forward. We will send Cyrus. He called out, taking lead to ascend the stairs. A blazing aura crawled across his skin as his lungs expanded, taking a deep breath. Was it Ashford waiting for them up there? Or something even worse? The fire mage was at a loss, but he could feel the dragon stirring in his chest. Whatever it was up there, Salamander did not like it.
Post by Charles Constantine✾ on Nov 2, 2021 19:43:56 GMT -5
[NOSPACES]
"I'm no g e n i u s, I'm just a fool who keeps going forward."
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[attr="class","glentext"] Everything was planned and he knew it, but a part of him believed that something had gone wrong in Alpha's plan. Maybe some things didn't go as planned to him, whether his team or somebody else was responsible for it was unknown. Once again the daemon was growing desperate and he could feel it. Charles remained quiet, believing there was nothing had to be said and leaving Alpha alone with his own insanity. "What the-" With a single snap of Alpha's finger the entire floor was gone. By the looks of it, the daemon was no longer going to keep him in that room, but his main annoyance came from not even getting a proper warning aside from sending his regards to that woman. [break][break] Now the silver mage found himself in free fall and didn't have the proper time to pull out his grimoire. "Tch... Damn you, Alpha. Give me a warning first..." He muttered to himself as he fell down the tower with a clear look of annoyance on his face, would've been easier if he received a warning beforehand, but it was too late to do so. Charles knew he was falling from at least several floors and was disposed of the same way he did with Varisse. The best thing he could do was prepare himself for an imminent collision once he reaches the ground. He prioritized his head, as he had higher chances of surviving with several broken bones of his body. Although, he was no longer near Alpha. The silver mage could still feel his presence as if he never left him to begin with. It felt as if he was still with him, even if he was gone physically. [break][break] Eventually, a loud crunch was felt as his body hit the ground. Most of the bones on his lower body had been broken from the fall. However, he was still alive, but in great pain, as he felt several bones of his body were broken in an instant. Charles found himself laying on the ground, without a clear idea of where he was. He couldn't feel his lower body, unable to move it, all he could feel was the pain. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice, it was Varisse, she was still alive. The silver mage moved his head, in an attempt to see the female elf as she ran towards him. "Somehow... I had a feeling you survived that fall. I'm glad I was right... He commented upon seeing Varisse was alive, although maybe he could not see her clearly he could sense her Ki, confirming it was her. The silver mage was visibly in pain and grunting, followed by some constant exhaling and inhaling for air. However, there was something else that bothered him. Aside from Varisse's presence, he could also sense somebody else, someone he was not familiar with. His best guess was that it was another daemon as it was different from Varisse, but if he went with comparison it was closer to one of a daemon. The person watching wasn't close to them, it was as if they were watching from a distance. Otherwise, they would've taken the chance to come up right now. He was slightly confused, as the person that watched them from afar was afraid? [break][break] Again, he felt Alpha's presence, which was followed by the sound of his voice. Out of nowhere, he began to a surge of energy inside his body. As his wounds began to heal, the pain from his broken bones was gone and he was able to feel his lower body again. All of his broken bones were healed in a matter of seconds, even the most skilled healing mages would take a few minutes to properly heal a broken bone. At least, his main concern was gone and he found himself able to walk again. Charles stood up, slowly using both of his hands as support to properly stand up. It was almost hard to believe that his wounds were healed in a matter of seconds. The silver mage turned to look at Varisse, he assumed that even she was surprised. [break][break] "Seems like my bones are no longer a problem... Do you know on what floor we are currently at, Varisse?" He asked the female elf if there was somebody who had an idea how far down the tower they were in was her. At least, there was a higher chance of her knowing more compared to him. Charles then turned to look at his wrist with the red line on it, it was a strange marking. The silver mage recalled Alpha's words right after his wounds had been healed. If the pawn was on the board, then it meant that he was his pawn on this game, for whatever sickening reason. The mark had something to do with it and this was likely a fragment of Aamon's mind or whatever. He still wasn't sure if he could truly trust Varisse, but he at least hoped that the female elf doesn't have any intentions of killing him after everything that happened. [break]
Getting more or less pulled out from under the rubble, a makeshift prison of his own creation more or less , it all only added to the crushing weight that was currently crushing what little remained of his pride. Had it been up to him, he would have remained under the rubble for a while, trying to keep the shambles of his self-worth together while making another effort at containing the rage he felt. Both the rage that had been gnawing at him ever since he woke up this very morning, as well as this new layer that had been added onto it upon realizing how immensely little good all the work and training he had gone through up until this point had done him. Had he been severely beaten in a fight against the demon they hoped to defeat by the end of this whole endeavour, he would have been at peace with it.
But the thought that even a fraction of some random demon they encountered along the way had more or less bested him, even while buffed up with his latest spell that had been devised for this very day, that was what truly left his pride in pieces, shattered like glass.
Obviously, Griswold would not be Griswold if he were to openly show this much, swallowing his feelings along with the overwhelming anger he felt towards quite literally everyone around him at this point. Even going as far as thanking the two men with an approving nod after they dug his worthless self out from under the sections of wall and ceiling, he released the spell that had been keeping him in good health. Reluctantly placing his sword back into the scabbard on his back, he barely even heard the rather obvious voice that spoke to them as he was working through something entirely different. Part of him wished to just walk over to the nearest window, leap out and just use his magic to float to whatever location the wind might carry him and just lay down there until the first animal nipped at him while under the impression that he was in fact a fresh corpse.
Snapping out of it just long enough to hear the end of the rant, he also picked up on how they were supposed to send in some kind of champion into whatever space would come next. At this point in time, he already knew full well that that was not something he was capable of filling out, as he could not even hold his own in the previous fight. Or rather, he could very much hold his own as he had taken exactly no damage to anything other than his pride and self-worth, the fact that he had done no actual damage to his own opponent due to him getting shot in the back made him appear weak. Truth be told, he would never really know if he would have been able to win his fight, though it sure as hell set a precedent for the remainder of the tower, one that more or less implied that someone needed to constantly watch his back as he could not do so himself.
This made him wonder as to what his future was going to be like, if it was going to keep hovering over him like some kind of dark cloud if he were to remain a magic knight. Clearly nobody was going to let someone who needed to be carried around like some fancy dog in a purse become a vice captain, let alone become a captain of a squad at some point in the future. What work he had done leading up to this point had all been for the sake of forsaken realm and the people living within it, and the sole reason as to why he had come here was to do his part in taking out the demonic threat. But if those same people got to hear the “Heroic tales” of what had transpired within the tower and only heard stories about how literally everyone had been useful while he had needed protecting, it would not come as much of a shock if those same people he used to protect would now come to see him as someone who needed protecting instead, that they’d lose faith in him.
“Seems like the wise choice to make, I agree.”
Speaking in a bland tone that was more or less devoid of emotion, sending Cyrus seemed like the best choice. Besides, it seemed like it had more or less already been settled that this was how things were going to be going regardless of whether or not he wanted it to go this way. With what little he had brought to the table, it was a miracle he hadn’t been sent packing yet, so agreeing with the plans that were being established was just about the least he could do. Wandering away from the two to get a good look at the stairs leading up, it was clear to him that the further they went up, the closer some of them would be getting to what might very well be their own death. And with Ardere having to look over his shoulders for the sake of his own protection, Griswold was not feeling like he should make it all the way to the top.
At this point, maybe meeting his match and going out in a blaze of glory so someone else might get in a worthwhile shot was the only way for him to regain a sense of dignity, a sense of honor. Or maybe he was just letting all of the emotions he normally did not have, such as the waves of anger and resentment get the better of him. Whatever the case, as things stood, Griswold really did not care a whole lot as to whether he came out of this alive or in a casket, as long as he went out making a difference, which was more than he had been able to conjure up at this point in time. So with the choice to send in Cyrus as their champion, he’d wait for the rest to ready themselves and move up to see what awaited them above.
[attr=class,cyrustext]When Cyrus brought up the subject of the strange dreams, Ard seemed eager to dismiss them as just another attempt to rattle and confound them. But was it really as simple as that, he wondered? Things were never as simple as they appear to be, he had found in his time as a Magic Knight. And all the more so when dealing with daemons. Still, he was right to say that they should focus on locating Charles. He didn't like having any member of their team separated from them in a place as unknown as this, so he'd like to reunite as soon as possible.
Hama nodded in agreement with the Captain's decision to press onward, looking back at Griswold as they began to walk, her partner readying his healing spells to top them off. "Pure Ichor." He said softly, causing a trio of clear masses of sap to emerge from the pages of his grimoire. The spell would wash over each of them, soothing any physical aches or sores they had while also recovering the durability of their mana skins. Gris and Ard would also be able to feel their mana regeneration improve for a bit, though Cyrus received no such benefits.
"Hey, tight lips!" The sap spirit called out to Gris, crossing her arms irritably. "Just because we're in a daemon tower doesn't mean you have to be all quiet and stuff. We gotta talk if we're gonna figure out how to proceed! And how about thanking Cyrus and the boss for digging you out, huh?"
Cyrus glanced at her, considering the possibility of berating his friend but deciding against it. He looked at the young man as they walked. His thoughts went back to his days training with Lady Pesha of the Green Mantis, and her determination to break him of any hubris. "One who refuses to swallow his pride is bound to choke on it when he should be breathing." He said out loud, remembering this particular quote of hers quite well. They say that everyone is their own worst critic, and Cyrus found that it was generally true. He couldn't imagine whatever thoughts were going through Gris' head at the moment, but they needed to stay focused, not wallow in self pity.
The voice that echoed throughout the tower spoke to the group, noting that they had yet to even really begin the climb upward before instructing them to select an individual from their party to take on the next trial. It was in their best interest to play along, a thought that Ardere seemed to agree with however reluctantly.
Though the Crimson King admitted he would prefer to be the one to go, he instead volunteered Cyrus for the job, reasoning that he had a versatile arsenal of spells that would make him a good choice when they didn't know exactly what lay ahead. Gris seemed absentminded as he voiced his agreement, but Cyrus accepted the mission with a simple nod as he stepped in front of the group, looking up the stairs. "I'll do it." He said, confirming Ard's announcement of who would be participating. To Ardere's faith in him, he gave a small smile as he led the ascent, but it quickly vanished as he redoubled his focus on whatever awaited above. His green eyes hardened, determined to perform to the best of his abilities and beyond.
Hama also turned her attention to match her partner's, hoping to be of use this time. It frustrated her that she had been separated from him during the strange dreams; it reminded her of how something similar had happened in Atlantis. But things were different now; they were stronger, more in sync. And they had plenty up their sleeve that no one had seen before. "Ready Cyrus?" She asked him, already knowing the answer from the look on his face alone. He simply nodded once again, continuing up the steps to whatever this trial was.
[attr="class,cyrusstats]Stats & Information
WC: 0660 | TWC: 9827
[attr="class,cyrusstats]
Mana Skin
16/24
Health
18/18
Mana
455/455
Movement Speed
05
Damage Taken
00
Healing Recieved
08
Mana Used
50
Mana Regen
80
[attr="class,cyrusstats] Combat Notes Cast Pure Ichor on self, Ard, and Gris; healing for Grand damage, +9 Control, and +20 mana regen for Ard and Gris
Items On Hand Magic Knight's Mantle Scorpion's Eclipse Strength of a Nation Puppeteer of the Current
Description: On casting this spell, a clear mass of sap around a foot and a half in diameter will travel towards Cyrus' intended target. Once it has reached its destination, the sap will seek out wounds and injuries on their body and surround them like a salve, healing them over the course of the spell's duration. This spell can heal wounds as significant as lost digits within a single post, or even resurrect someone who has died over the course of four posts, if the treatment is started within three posts of the person's death. Thanks to Archangel's Blessing this spell can maintain its full potency even when being cast on multiple targets, and those being healed by this spell (besides the original caster) also gain an extra +20 mana regen from Healing Specialist, as well as a +9 buff to their Control stat. Multiple instances of this spell can be produced as per the ammo rules.
Pulled from the rubble Griswold was back amongst his peers albeit a little worse for wear when it came to his mind...a terrible thing to be rid of when in a place such as this...and when the subject of who the trio would send as their champion it was an easy thought to send the Crimson King himself...but the captain of the Royal Knights himself already spoke up, knowing the right choice would be to send the shield before the sword. Cyrus was picked as their party's champion and somewhere above them...a force to be reckoned with had already anticipated this and knew exactly what trial to send forth.
Cyrus was accepting of this pick and offered a few words as did Hama in concern for Griswold and his current state of affairs. Looking up the stairs, Cyrus would see that it was a long way to the top...if you wanted to become the champion; and the roars, screams, and cries of the damned and their masters ready for whatever was about to happen.
...and we will get to that in a moment.
Charles…
”How nice of you to join us...Charles, just in time to be reunited with your brothers to watch the trial of your...sap mage.” The daemon was of course string directly at Charles’ wrist and he could see the wound. There was a fire burning in his eyes as the hatred could be felt, making the air chokingly thick and unsurprisingly hostile.
Soon footsteps would be heard as the other members of the Royal Knight party would make their way up.
When Cyrus would arrive on the sixth floor...he was not greeted by Charles...Varisse, nor the daemon they were with. Instead he was greeted with the site of the grand arena and a heroes welcome. It was exactly like the Magic Knights coliseum, recreated in exact details...or it WAS the coliseum and the tower was just built around it. However there was no tower currently...just open sky and the view of THOUSANDS of elves. At the Podium sat a being that gave off the air of royalty...of power...of pure unbridled rage...What Cyrus would see would be Aamon himself. The Archdaemon was in his truest state and looked exactly like the beastial foe was rumored to be like. He looked down at Cyrus with disgust before holding out his hand, the next moment the arena door opened underneath at the arena level and out walked a...familiar face.
The pair that walked through the door were dressed in ancient gladiator armor, and when they were about a meter away the humanoid opponent took off his helmet. Imagine the shock of the roaring crowd as Cyrus and Hama were now looking at very different, scarred versions of themselves like some messed up fun house mirror. That is when Aamon stood up and the cheering died down. ”So...the champion the Royal Knights have sent is the mage of sap? Let me show you how pitiful your defenses are in the face of absolute power.” Aamon finished as the crowd cheered louder than ever, the gladiator Cyrus never even took his eyes away from his opponent.
It was time for the trial to begin.
Charles, Griswold, Ardere.
As long as Griswold and Ardere follow after Cryrus they will notice that as they cross the threshold of the door for the next floor that Cyrus will seemingly disappear without warning, but...a welcome sight as Charles is now standing 3 meters away from the other Royal Knights...rubble around him as if he were buried and the lady from the beginning of the dungeon...now seen as Varisse. Griswold would feel hate and a burning desire...something rekindled inside of him, possibly from that dream and becoming a daemon. Ardere would feel confused, but a longing to embrace the woman would fill his soul...but the other member...staring at them was a robed elf, looking disgusted by the presence of these hairless apes that wandered here. ”How nice of you to join us, we were just about to watch your compatriot fall to the hands of his own design...Lord Aamon has graced us with his presence as well. It is only fitting that his so-called foes watch as their friend breathes his last breath.” The daemon said before eying Charles one last time as he turned, revealing they were inside of the arena as well, directly across from Aamon himself…
The speech had just been given, and the crowd...was the twisted, desecrated bodies of the elves that died to Aamon.
[attr=class,cyrustext]As the party ascended the stairway, Cyrus could begin to hear sounds; many voices shouting and screaming in tandem. It almost reminded him of the Magic Knight Exams, though there was a distinctly foreboding vibe to the noise as it grew closer and closer. The sounds of his own boots on the stone steps echoed in his ears, as did those of his companions... until they didn't. Cyrus looked behind him, only to see that Ardere and Griswold had both disappeared, leaving himself and Hama alone. "Or are we the ones that disappeared?" He wondered, remembering how Charles had yet to be located by their party. Was it now his turn to vanish?
But as he turned around, Cyrus did not see the stairs leading up to whatever the source of the cacophony of noise was; instead, he was faced with the familiar sight of the arena where the Magic Knights' exam had taken place, just as he had recalled... and complete with packed seats full of screaming spectators. And on closer look, not just random citizens of Clover either, but elves. Hundreds, no thousands of them!
But as mind-boggling as that sight had been, it was not what most drew the Vice Captain's attention. No, instead the Rising Dawn's eyes settled on the podium up above, where a figure resided; a figure he did not recognize, but he could tell from the incredible presence and power that they gave off that it could be nobody but the very being they had come there to stop.
Aamon.
The words he had heard describe the Archdaemon once upon a time had been accurate, yet at the same time they failed to do the monster justice. Few things could, after all, adequately describe something so... impactful.
Aamon's eyes met Cyrus' own, and suddenly memories came flooding back to the young man. Not his own memories, though; or rather, a dream of a memory. He recalled the vision of his ancestor Ostead, and his final clash with the leader of the Hooked Hand cult. How he had struck down the cultist... and how the faceless figure had cursed Ostead and his family in the name of the great daemon whom they worshipped.
The very same daemon that was now looking at him with clear disgust in its eyes. Was it simple contempt for a human? Did he somehow know of his connection to the cult that had once worshiped him? Or was he merely disappointed that a warrior like Ardere had not been selected to take part in the trial?
Somehow, Cyrus was unsure he wanted to know the answer. Aamon lifted his hand, and the great coliseum door across the battlefield opened, a single figure emerging from the darkness within. They wore gladiator armor, not unlike what would be worn in an arena such as this long ago. They silently approached Cyrus and Hama, meeting them roughly in the middle of the arena before reaching up to their helmet and removing it... revealing to the astonished pair a twisted parody of their own visage. It was like something one might see in a nightmare, but Cyrus was well enough to know that he had no such luck.
Aamon spoke, for the first time in person, commenting on the chosen knight's particular brand and style of magic. He dared him to stand against his opposite, who never once shifted attention away from the true Magic Knight whose appearance he bore.
Cyrus returned the stare, feeling the world around himself go quiet even as the cheers of the crowd grew louder at their host's words of challenge. He felt his mana skin finish repairing thanks to the spell he had cast down below, releasing it. Hama looked between her partner and their doppelgangers. "Any ideas, Cy?" She asked him from within, not wanting to even let the unnerving opponents hear them if she could help it.
Cyrus considered her question, having already begun thinking on it himself. "They wish to test my pitiful defenses against absolute power." He responded through their connection, repeating the archdaemon's words as he raised his hand, clenching his fist until his knuckles turned white. "If this is a trial, than the only logical step is to do as we're told."
Hama internally nodded, knowing that they had no real choice at this point. Still, she wondered at the capabilities of their adversaries. Absolute power... certainly, this wasn't going to be as easy as the oni below.
Cyrus opened his fist, causing sap to gather in his palm. A bright light came from his grimoire as a glyph formed on the ground in front of him, from which a giant knight of amber emerged; it was the Odur, Cyrus' Grand tier Balanced golem. With its shining body, shield, and sword, it cut a striking figure in the desolate arena. A second knight joined it afterwards, one standing beside Cyrus and the other in front of him. He then cast another spell; the same Fossil Facade he had used earlier in their climb, only now he used it to protect himself and both of the golems. Time would tell if it could withstand whatever this foe had in store for them.
And with a silent order, the Golem in front of Cyrus charged forward, shield raised in front of itself while raising its sword to strike down at the twisted copy of its master. The trial had begun.
And for better or worse, Cyrus made the first move.
[attr="class,cyrusstats]Stats & Information
WC: 0917 | TWC: 10744
[attr="class,cyrusstats]
Mana Skin
24/24
Health
18/18
Mana
410/455
Movement Speed
05
Damage Taken
00
Healing Recieved
00
Mana Used
125
Mana Regen
80
[attr="class,cyrusstats] Combat Notes Healed the last of his mana skin damage with Pure Ichor, then ended the spell
Summoned two Odur golems Protected both golems and himself with Fossil Facade
Ordered one Odur to attack the doppelganger
Items On Hand Magic Knight's Mantle Scorpion's Eclipse Strength of a Nation Puppeteer of the Current
Name of Spell: Odur Spell Element: Sap Spell Rank: Grand Mana Cost: 50 | 25 Type of Golem: Balanced Applicable Perks: Puppet Master, Armament, Reinforced Golems Description: One of the most powerful forms of golems within Cyrus' sizable arsenal of minions, the Odur is capable of reaching heights of up to 12 meters tall should their creator so desire, and cut an appropriately striking figure. Visually, they resemble powerful armor-clad warriors armed with both a kite shield and a brilliant sword. They constantly give off an amber-colored glow, as though their form alone cannot fully contain their power. In addition to being quite sturdy, they are also surprisingly agile, which makes for a versatile warrior. As a Grand tier golem, they can carry up to five passengers at their base speed of 24 m/s, with a maximum possible speed of 40 m/s. Only two may be summoned at a time.
Description: A powerful defensive maneuver developed primarily with the intention of protecting Cyrus' golems, though it can also be applied to people as well. When cast, this spell produces an orb of amber roughly a foot in diameter that rushes towards the intended target(s). Once it reaches an applicable figure, the sphere shapes itself around the target, encasing them in a durable armor shell that can withstand attacks as powerful as an Archmage spell. Those protected receive a +12 buff to their Durability stat, or +10 if it is cast on multiple targets.
Thanks to Self-repairing, the Fossil Facade can repair itself to full strength a maximum of three separate times so long as it is not entirely destroyed. Cyrus is also capable of reinforcing its Durability by +20 twice per thread for a single post with Final Stand. Multiple sets of armor can be produced so long as Cyrus meets the Control requirements as per the ammo rules.
I don't know where the future[break][break] will take us,[break][break] But we will blaze it together.[break][break]
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[attr="class","ardereescroll"]
[break]Ardere let a soft breath escape his pale lips, it was all up to Cyrus now. As the sap mage was transported off, his comrades were left behind. What lie ahead of them was unclear, however the Captain of the Crimson Lions had maintained his faith this long--he could hold out a bit longer. [break][break] But what lay in store for them within the Cloud Giant Coliseum was a insurmountable threat, one he had not predicted. On one hand he was overjoyed to see Charles. Charles! Beside him was a power that reminded him of Ashford, perhaps another Avatar of Aamon? It was not unheard for powerful beings to have multiple Avatars, in fact it was more than suitable for the Daemon Champion. Not far from the two stood a very familiar woman; Varisse. Oddly enough an old soul or perhaps a memory within him ached to embrace the woman. Perhaps the effects of the nightmares they endured had a permanent effect on the mages, yet they could not afford to dwell on that now. Varisse... Grinding his teeth, his heart sank into his chest. Across the arena was a familiar face; Aamon. While he imagined the others would have sensed his power by now, Ardere was the only mage to have actually met Aamon in person before. He recognized that blue armor, the titanic wingspan. The beast was a giant made of muscle and conviction. So that was your plan... They knew the Captain would not send himself out as a way to conserve energy in the group and they used that against him as a way to dwindle their numbers. I thought you were an honorable warrior Aamon. Such tactics should be beneath you. So how about a contest instead? His words echoed throughout the Arena as his eyes were blazing with anger and bloodlust. [break][break] Let's see who can defeat the other's Champion first. There was no time between his words and his actions. Ardere did not hold himself back to allow the others to react. They had officially pissed him off beyond recognition. The Crimson King was going to drive his fist into Aamon's face one way or the other. If he had to kill this Avatar first, then so be it. Kicking off the ground, three spells were simultaneously activated; Fylja's Prowess, Ryujin, and Siegfried's Arsenal. Power of the Dragon God. This was the name he had created for the combination of spells activated. As dragon scales and crimson flames crawled across his skin, they were enveloped in a pale white flame. All the crimson across his form was now a bright hot white--his King's Flame. Even the scales across his skin were now pale like the fires his commanded, as were the blades that orbited his body. His speed was nigh impossible to dodge, but he did not underestimate this Daemon before him. Charles and Varisse were too close for him to utilize his swords, so instead he kept the blades behind him and the white flames fixed to his form.(Fylja's Prowess is fixed to his skin like a suit of armor currently) The Captain then banked hard mid air and flew up above the new hooded figure. He was going to attempt to grab him by the cloak and toss him into the nearby wall. Was this brash? Perhaps. Ardere had maintained such composure and strategy up until this point, but he recalled his old mentor's words. There is a time to be smart, to observe your opponent, but there is also a time to be bold--to just launch yourself at them and give it everything you've got. Some enemies can't be outsmarted, but that doesn't mean you can't beat them through sheer fucking willpower. Lysander's words echoed in his mind as he soared through the air. He hoped Griswold and Charles would forgive him for this, but most of all Cyrus who would have to hold out long enough for this to be done. Now your Master can watch you draw your last breath...
Speed: 100 m/s[break] Strength: Senior + Int [break] Perks: Apex Predator, Close Combat Expert, Berserker's Rage. [break][break] Name of Spell: King's Flame: Fylgja's Prowess[break] Elemental Type: Fire[break] Rank & Spell Type: Grand | Attack Creation/Physical Reinforcement[break] Range & Speed: 75 m | 75 m/s[break] Mana Cost: 40 (20)[break] Stats Effected: +20 m/s Speed[break] Applicable Perks: Mana Conservationist[break] Description: Ardere's body becomes encased in a blazing armor comprised entirely of flames. This armor takes the form resembling a sort of Lion warrior, with a Lion head and claws. This is to represent his Fylgja or spirit animal as a lion. The spell drastically increases his speed, but the blazing armor itself allows him to dish out massive 3rd and fourth degree burn damage. He can expand and contract the armor at will, to a maximum of a 75 m tall lion warrior, used to pummel buildings or mountain sides. The armor can be as tight as right up against his skin, or as large as the size mentioned before. This gives the spell great versatility in combat, and makes it quite frightening to go up against. [break][break] Name of Spell: Crimson King: Ryujin[break] Elemental Type: Fire[break] Rank & Spell Type: Grand | Transformation (Transfigure - Transport) | Physical Reinforcement (Speed)[break] Range & Speed: Self | 60 m/s[break] Mana Cost: 40 (20)[break] Stats Effected: +20 m/s[break] Applicable Perks: Mana Conservationist, Predator's Mutation.[break] Description: The user quite literally transmutes their own body to grow wings that appear like those of a dragon, and burst into flames. The user's fingers also extend by 4 inches into claws with red scales that go up his arms/legs/torso and across his face, his feet being subject to the same claw growth as his hands. Ardere's eyes will even turn a piercing yellow, with vertical slit eyelids. The wings themselves are 50 inches. This spell's speed is further increased via the use of Physical Reinforcement magic, causes Ard's veins to pulse as magic flows through them. Ardere can transport others if he wishes, with a maximum of 5 people. [break][break] Name of Spell: Siegfried's Arsenal[break] Elemental Type: Fire[break] Rank & Spell Type: Grand | Attack Creation[break] Range & Speed: 80 m area| 75 m/s[break] Mana Cost: 40 (20)[break] Stats Effected: +22 Power[break] Applicable Perks: Mana Conservationist, Battle Knight, Signature Spell.[break] Description: This is Ardere's most often used spell, and one he learned from his father (It being a mirror of his father's signature spell). It has gotten stronger as he has, and this is the final version of this spell. He creates a massive sword out of flame. Being 2 meters in length it is long enough to match his own height but not too large to be awkward when wielding. The user can grab this sword, but they can also manipulate it in an 80 meter area, being 40 m radially around them-self. They can manipulate it to stab or slash or twirl, anything the user can think of. For every 50 control the user has, they can make an extra sword. These swords are powerful enough to cleave through stone and metal like it was butter, and limbs are just the same. These spells do have the ability to kill.
Post by Charles Constantine✾ on Nov 8, 2021 19:10:47 GMT -5
[NOSPACES]
"I'm no g e n i u s, I'm just a fool who keeps going forward."
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word count 845
total word count 12,531
[attr="class","glentext"] Charles turned to look at the daemon, he felt his presence earlier, but now he was actually able to see him. It seemed a bit convenient that he showed up not long after he fell down, but even then he felt his Ki way before that. It was either a coincidence, or he was waiting for him. He decided to go for the latter, as the daemon clearly knew his name. The moment he heard the daemon comment about Cyrus, he knew the Vice-Captain of the Golden Dawn was a sap mage. So everything pointed that Cyrus was chosen for the next trial, whatever it was. The silver mage was able to sense his hatred through Ki and it was clear the daemon was staring at the red marking on his wrist. Whatever was the reason, he could feel his hostility behind those kind words. [break][break] Soon after, he would hear the footsteps of Griswold and Ardere. There was some joy in seeing his teammates yet again, the only difference was that Cyrus was nowhere to be seen. His best guess was that he was sent to his trial. Upon seeing the two of them, he briefly raised his hand and waved at them. "Yo..." Charles said, greeting the two Royal Knights, as he was relieved to see them. However, the next words surprised the silver mage. Ardere had called the female elf by her name, but he never recalled her mentioning her own name. The only person that has mentioned her name was Alpha, so how did the Captain know her identity? This was confusing and he had a feeling that both sides had many questions. "...How do you know her name?" He asked, genuinely curious as to how he knew her name. The silver mage had no clue what happened while he was with Alpha, so his best hypothesis was that he found out through one of the trials they did. [break][break] It was revealed that they were in an arena that was similar to the one where the Magic Knight Exams were held. Charles felt as the daemon close to him kept looking at him. It was clear that he wanted something from him, or some sort of interest, it slightly bothered him. But, he didn't dwell too much on that for the time being and focused on the problem at hand. He looked at the podium and saw Aamon. The silver mage had never seen the Archdaemon until now, of course, it was obvious, but it felt like he instinctually knew it was him. Not even without thinking it twice, he could also feel the daemonic magical in place. "I have to admit... It was about time the man himself showed up." He stated, it was about time the Archdaemon showed up, but he also felt it was a little too early to fight him. It seems like he was going to spectate the trial himself. [break][break] Charles's attention was now shifted to Ardere, as he felt the anger and bloodlust begin to overwhelm his Captain. It was quite easy to tell that he was mad. "This is not what you think, Captain." The silver mage said, recalling the words Alpha told him. If it was really true, then it wasn't Aamon the one that did these trials, but someone else. He was merely a spectator with a desire to amuse himself while waiting for them to show up for the final showdown. He knew there was no way to stop Ardere, and he was likely going to kill the daemon that was beside them. Charles had a feeling that the daemon had already taken this possibility into account, and that it was possible Ardere was just once again falling into the enemy's hand. After all, the Captain was known for his brash and straightforward personality, there was no way they wouldn't see it coming. "Here he comes..." The silver mage muttered to himself below his breath, just as he was about to attack the daemon. He grabbed Varisse's hand and moved out of the way of Ardere's potential attack. Whether the female elf would allow it was unknown to him, but he hoped that she wasn't siding with the daemon. [break][break] "Damnit... I have a feeling he just fell right into their hands." The silver mage moved out of the way, as Ardere launched his attack. There was no way they could stop him, just as he had planned to tell him about everything that happened. But, for now, he had to witness Ardere's rampage and whether that daemon would be able to survive. If they had truly taken this into account, it was possible he would survive. Charles wondered what Griswold was going to do, if he was going to join him or not. He had no intentions of getting involved, and he thought that he could've used this time to bring them up to speed so they could gather more information. The silver mage was wrong, much to his annoyance. All of this had become a pain in the ass for Charles. [break]
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POW 090
DUR 141
SEN 010
STA 080
CON 080
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MANA SKIN
HEALTH
MANA REGEN
MANA POOL
archmage
grand
55 IC // 60 OOC
220/220
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Combat Summary
[break]TL;DR Magic Knight Mantle, Seer's Fate, Forgotten Heirloom [break][break] Ki Tier 2 active. Charles grabbed Varisse's hand and moved aside from Ardere's incoming attack. Although he had no intentions of actually hitting him, he moved aside regardless.
Though already brooding quite a bit, there was really nothing that could seemingly amplify the amount of negativity he was experiencing, yet somehow the spirit managed to find a way to poke him in just the right spot at the worst of times. Clearly, it had no idea as to who Griswold was, and that he would not speak unless he had something that needed to be said because he believed it affected everyone. Calling him tight lips was not going to make him any more talkative than he was at this point, and besides, anything he would say was not going to be of much help to anyone, let alone to their morale. For as he felt now, he was just barely containing all of the anger he felt over being the weak link in the group, not to mention the anger he experienced due to simply being in this damned tower.
Scuffing at the spirit and Cyrus alike, he knew that they were right, though today was not exactly like other days. On a normal day, these things would not have bothered him nearly as much, nor would there have been this invisible force hovering around them that just kept amplifying every negative emotion he experienced. Strangely enough, the sheer sadness and inferiority he felt somehow managed to dampen the anger that was surging through him since earlier this morning, keeping it from becoming too much of a hindrance. And while it was not something he had any direct control over, he imagined it was better to feel sad than to feel angry at those that surrounded him, as they did not deserve his ire. In an attempt at leaving things for what they were, Griswold began ascending the stairs, wanting to see this battleground where Cyrus was supposed to be fighting a champion of the enemy faction.
When all of a sudden, Cyrus stopped being near them, likely due to some kind of transportation magic that just plucked him away, Griswold began to wonder whether or not they had done the right thing here. If nothing else, they could have sent him in. While it seemed unlikely that he was going to take the win, it would take the enemy a long time to wear him down and actually get to the point of killing him, as being resilient physically was more or less the one thing he had going for him here. Unfortunately, they would never know whether that resilience would end up paying off or not, as him fighting seemed to not be happening soon. Or perhaps he spoke too soon.
For when they made their way into the next room, the sights and sounds made the black swordsman feel a bunch of varying things, ranging from simply being glad that Charles was still alive and well, to feeling a strange connection to the demon that seemed like an avatar of the big guy, and finally a strange resentment bordering on anger towards the woman. Slowly piecing things together, part of him felt like she had been someone he had done battle with, though it was not in the way that he was accustomed to fighting someone. Remembering now the strange dream sequence he had experienced earlier, further thought allowed him to tie the woman to the massive glowing golem construct that he had seen a demon fight. Or rather, was he not that same demon that had fought against the golem himself? To say that the whole thing had been somewhat mind-boggling to someone such as Griswold was quite the understatement.
But what mattered right now was not the vibes he was getting from the room, but what was seemingly going on right after the entered this next room. It was clear that the being he assumed to be another avatar was rather keen on antagonizing them, which had been the one thing these demons had been keeping up ever since they arrived at the base of the tower. In truth, there was an overly large part of his psyche telling him to get rid of the demon and to then get rid of the woman, which was quite frankly something he wished to try as his hands were beginning to shake. Grabbing hold of his wrist with his other hand to keep it from shaking, he felt like there were two people inside of his body that were vying for control. One wanting to reach for his sword, activate just about every physical reinforcement spell in his arsenal and charging at the two perceived threats within the room, while the other wanted to keep his head cool and wait to see how exactly things would unfold now that Charles was back among them.
It was for this reason that he could only watch with eyes wide open when Ardere began issuing a challenge about who was going to kill which champion first while bursting out some spells and quite literally charging the demon before Griswold could even remotely begin to prepare for a fight. As the captain of the Crimson Lion squad rushed into battle, Griswold still heard the words spoken by Charles during the whole thing. Claiming things were not as they appeared, part of him wondered whether or not that was actually true, or if things were perhaps exactly as they appeared. Storming towards the other bull and the elven woman, Cyrus being gone and Ardere leaping straight into battle did not exactly allow him to repack himself and contain his rage. It did however keep him from acting on it in a physical manner, and that was all he could ask for for the time being.
“You, mister "future vice-captain of the Black Bulls", make yourself useful and spill the beans on your absence. It’s taking me just about all of my mental fortitude and then some to keep from pushing at least two swords through that demon, so do make an attempt at occupying my attention.”
Whether the thing Charles could share with regards to whom they were facing, who this elf woman was and who the demon Ardere was fighting was. Clearly with Cyrus gone, the mage with the most defensive means at his disposal was no longer around, and with Ardere’s challenge, there was a chance that he might not be returning at all. Whether everyone else seemingly losing their minds made it easier for him to keep his own mind still or not was not something he could answer, though he knew for a fact that if neither Charles nor this woman had anything of use to divulge, he too would be joining in on the fight. And with that, he turned his gaze from Charles and to the elven woman, glaring in her direction while showing that he was in no way considering her an ally like his fellow Black Bull had seemingly already done.
“The same goes for you woman. I know I have a clear image of you in my head that tells me you’re an enemy, yet you being here with Charles and not stepping in to fight either Ardere or that demon means you’ve got ulterior motives, so speak.”
Once the last word dripped off of his tongue like acid spat in the direction of the elf, his ears remained on the couple in front of him, though his eyes turned to Ardere and the demon. Clearly if the guy needed help, he would not hesitate to jump into the fray, though the fact that he was so much faster and stronger than he was meant that all Griswold was going to be good for was acting as a human shield. And as the previous room had proven, being a living shield was something he was incredibly good at. Resting in a state that could be compared to the figurative “edge of your seat”, he was ready to uncork the bottle and let every bit of his mana flow out so he could protect the one on their team that had the biggest chance of actually killing Aamon. As such, Griswold could not risk him falling here now that their shield mage had disappeared.
1362 (14045)
Last Edit: Nov 8, 2021 21:42:02 GMT -5 by Griswold
A lot to go over in, so I will be doing individual sections this time
Cyrus:
The figure watched as Cyrus decided what he must do...he must fight back against the darkness, and as such...the outcome would be decided then and there with an exchange. Cyrus summoned two golems and then used a spell to shroud the trio in a mana shield...protection...absolute perfection...but was it enough?
“Possession...stage one” The twisted doppelganger said with a grave tone, as the twisted version of Hama merged with the body of the fighter. A brilliant flash of light and the sound of steel striking steel rang out. The Odur golem was held at bay for a moment before a second later it separated...split in half by the doppleganger, who now did not wield a weapon, his hands had become twisted claws and his armor looked to be melding to his skin.
The next moment, it took a step and almost as if it was imbued with the speed of light it moved...quickly. Moving at a speed of 45 m/s it engaged in close quarters combat with the Golem first since the creation was between him and his prey. The gladiatorial Cyrus possessed by the spirit was like a force of nature. The claw swipe attack was moving at the same speed that was traveled at, 45 m/s with a power of Archmage damage. If it went through the golem, it would follow through towards Cyrus.
Ardere:
Aamon heard the words of Ardere and smiled, but paid no attention to the foolish boy that was masquerading as a leader...the trial so far had not taught him anything. ”Foolish ape...You are not yet a worthy opponent in my eyes.” The archdaemon said...and it was in a tone that conveyed he did in fact not care of what Ardere was doing.
When Ardere charged the Avatar, there was a slight chuckle before he was thrown into the wall. In Ardere’s hands would be the cloak, in tatters, and steaming...the cloth soon caught fire and began to burn. ”That was rather rude of you, you bastard of an uncultured swine. It is time that someone taught you some manners.” The figure stood up from his resting place in the wall and brushed himself off, as if he had not a single care for what had just happened. The Avatar stood tall, in a uniform identical to that of the elf warriors from the previous floor. He looked to be a respectable type, with dignified posture and an aura that exuded confidence. His eyes were what stood out from the rest of his pampered style...those emerald green jewels piercing through the air and a second later a sword materialized from his ring, it was a jade greatsword that looked as though it could cut time and space itself, along with an aura that would spread over his entire body. The Avatar did not waste a moment and sped towards Ardere with the swing...the bloodlust in the air was stifling. The attack was sudden and the Avatar moved at a speed of 90 m/s suddenly, the floor cracked with each step and once the blade was swung, everyone would feel the same thing all at once…
Danger…
A wave of jade would come from the arc of the blade swing, moving at a speed of 90 m/s and would carry archmage damage. The likelihood of the pressbox being destroyed was highly likely if this continued.
Charles & Griswold:
The stinging continued as Ardere would suddenly move to tackle this new Avatar, Varisse was frightened and looked to grab Charles hand as if to try and escape somehow, feeling familiar...yet they were both confronted by Griswold whose words were aimed at both Charles and the elf girl that brought them inside in the first place.
”I did what I had to do...I want to leave this place and you damn fools are the ones that were sent to rid the worlds of this damn villain and his kind right...be a knight, and not some foolish child with a stick.” She spoke mainly to Griswold now, knowing that she could not just escape...the cogs were now all turning...as they should be.
”Charles, Charles, Charles...perhaps it's time the future of the Black Bulls is decided here...from what I can see...this man is going to hinder your time to relax and indulge in the...necessities that come with the job. You can make it out of here...I can even show you the way...if you want that is.” The voice of Alpha spoke in his head now and it was hard to admit that it was wrong...what was the motive here after all.
Inside Griswold's mind though that anger...fueled by Aamon himself being merely the length of an arena away...it was intoxicating...and your own power was starting to even fill, even without the notice of one’s own eyes. The elf woman did not answer him...not in earnest anyway...and now she had even called him a child and that the weapons he used were sticks...
GM NOTES:
This week I am not timing the thread, you literally have until next Monday, I will be largely unavailable, and I won't be on at all on Saturday so please hit me up during the next few days if you need anything.
I don't know where the future[break][break] will take us,[break][break] But we will blaze it together.[break][break]
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[attr="class","ardereescroll"]An ape maybe, but foolish? If you think that then you haven't paid much attention to me at all, have you? Ardere tossed what he imagined was another Avatar of Aamon into the wall. This attack had not been intended to gravely injure his target, nor did he expect it to. His goal was quite simple; anger the Avatar. In this endeavor he had succeeded. It was not about whether or not Aamon cared about his Lieutenant or not, after killing Astaroth he had gathered that much already. This was not complicated--the Avatar was his greatest threat and needed to be eliminated otherwise charging out there to fight Aamon was fruitless. [break][break] Trials. Tests. Ardere had already been through enough to break a hundred men, or perhaps just one man a hundred times over. He had been broken and beaten down to nothing. There was nothing Aamon could do to anger him any more than the Captain already was. In his heart he had already experienced the greatest loss. It was that loss and pain that carried him here today, that strengthened him in such a way that he could fight Titans. He didn't need to prove himself to Aamon, or anyone anymore for that matter. He had already proved his strength to himself and that was all that mattered in the end. So today the challenge was not for himself, but for the others. The Crimson King would not stand idly by for these childish games and trials while the lives of men he cared for were hanging in the balance. 'Fuck that' he thought. Ardere was ready before the moment he stepped into this tower and Aamon was going to understand that. [break][break] Nonetheless he had an enemy to focus on for the moment, an enemy who was intend fast--just not fast enough. Finally, someone who wants to fight. He said as his body moved instinctually. A jade sword was drawn and an aura summoned, but there was no fear in the fire mage's amber eyes. With his now Grand magic level strength and Fylja's aura, he sent an archmage level punch into the flat side of the jade blade in an attempt to knock it out of the Daemon's hand as all four of his sword maneuver around the enemy in different directions and fired off towards him. Even though the swords were slightly slower than the Daemon, Ardere aimed to use his opponent's own forward momentum against himself, reverse of what he did to his Oni opponent. Simultaneously, one of the gargantuan white fiery arms from his Fylja would reach out to punch the Daemon with grand ranked flame damage. This flurry of blows was made with the intention of quickly dispatching his opponent and that was quite clear from his demeanor. While he did consider this Avatar a real opponent, he did not have the luxury of savoring such a fight. This was the time for a decisive victory so he could aid his friend. If this trial was to sit back and watch Aamon take out their shield, then he wanted no part of it. My father had more culture in his pinky that you have in your entire body. So as much as I'd love to stick around and chat, get the fuck out of my way! His voice resounded with such ferocity and intensity, it was a wonder if he was human at all in this white dragon-like visage. The spectator box was sure to explode, but he would attempt to send the Daemon out of it first in an attempt to allow his comrades some time to react. They had their own struggles to deal with as well, but he trusted them.
Post by Charles Constantine✾ on Nov 18, 2021 13:04:03 GMT -5
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"I'm no g e n i u s, I'm just a fool who keeps going forward."
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word count 934
total word count 13,465
[attr="class","glentext"] Charles was able to sense the hostility coming from Griswold, he sensed it at the start when they first arrived at the tower. But now it seemed as if those emotions had been amplified for whatever reason. Most of his team appeared to have some wild emotions running on them. Cyrus was too busy dealing with his trial, Ardere decided to charge towards the Avatar without further thinking about the consequences. And now if things couldn't get any worse, Griswold was now being hostile towards him. This was just a major pain in the ass for him, but he could definitely feel animosity coming from his fellow Black Bull. The silver mage sighed as Griswold started to tell him to spill the beans about what happened while he was gone. [break][break] "I was planning on doing that, but then Ardere decided to charge towards the Avatar before even giving me a proper chance to explain the situation. If you have Ki and focus enough, you'll be able to sense that she's actually not a daemon, but an actual living being." Charles said, he had confirmed earlier that Varisse wasn't a daemon like the rest, but a living being. She wasn't hostile at all and even Ardere seemed to somehow know her, yet he had no clue how he figured out her name. It was never mentioned until now, at least in front of them. It was as if they met before, he had no clue what occurred in their trial, so maybe it had to do with it. "I stayed behind to figure Varisse's true identity, fortunately enough it seemed to work. The man you saw at the start, he's called Alpha, or at least that's how he told me to call him. He had me play some of his weird and twisted games while we waited for you guys to get out of your trial. After that, he sent me down to meet with you guys again, I don't know what his true motivations are, but apparently, Aamon is allowing him to do what he wants." The silver mage gave a brief explanation, of course, he missed some details, but it was pretty much the gist of it. [break][break] It was revealed that they were in an arena that was similar to the one where the Magic Knight Exams were held. Charles felt as the daemon close to him kept looking at him. It was clear that he wanted something from him, or some sort of interest, it slightly bothered him. But, he didn't dwell too much on that for the time being and focused on the problem at hand. He looked at the podium and saw Aamon. The silver mage had never seen the Archdaemon until now, of course, it was obvious, but it felt like he instinctually knew it was him. Not even without thinking it twice, he could also feel the daemonic magical in place. "I have to admit... It was about time the man himself showed up." He stated, it was about time the Archdaemon showed up, but he also felt it was a little too early to fight him. It seems like he was going to spectate the trial himself. [break][break] As Varisse held his hand, a part of him believed that Griswold's personality was influenced by somebody or someone. The man was known for questioning a lot of things, but he wasn't normally this brash. He could feel how Aamon's daemonic magical energy and rage were filling him. It was influencing him, as much as he didn't want to fight, he prepared for the possibility of a fight. It had become clear to him that this wasn't his real personality, but his emotions were amplified by the Archdaemon. All of this was just a pain in the ass for him. "It could either be for ulterior motives or probably because nobody would be dumb enough to get in Ardere's way, just saying. Somebody didn't necessarily have to have ulterior motives for something, it was Ardere they were attacking about. The man was one of the most powerful mages in the Kingdom and his flames burned like hell. Somebody would simply not get involved in a battle between two powerhouses. [break][break] Charles heard Alpha's voice on his head yet again, for some reason he wasn't as surprised that the daemon decided to show up and talk at a time like this. The silver mage didn't know what he wanted now, he heard his words stating for the future of the Black Bulls to be decided. By the looks of it, Alpha was implying for them to fight, given the circumstances, it was possible for things to end up like this. However, he didn't want to fight him, it was completely unnecessary and a waste of energy. After all, he was saving up his magical energy for the rest of the trials, not to fight a comrade. "What's your objective now, Alpha? Anyway, it's not like you're giving much of a choice, do you? You came here at such a convenient time knowing what my answer would be... Show me the way out, I'm bringing Varrise with me." He replied to him through his head as well, he knew that if she remained here she would only up to get up attacked by Griswold considering his hostile presence. The silver mage looked at Griswold and then at Aamon, it was clear that it was a clear opportunity to push them into disarray. He didn't know what Alpha's intentions were, but he was sure as hell not going to be a part of this. [break]
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POW 090
DUR 141
SEN 010
STA 080
CON 080
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MANA SKIN
HEALTH
MANA REGEN
MANA POOL
archmage
grand
55 IC // 60 OOC
220/220
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Combat Summary
[break]TL;DR Magic Knight Mantle, Seer's Fate, Forgotten Heirloom [break][break] Ki Tier 2 active. Charles grabbed Varisse's hand and moved aside from Ardere's incoming attack. Although he had no intentions of actually hitting him, he moved aside regardless.
