Paradise Lost

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Warmaster Death, Jan 30, 2010.

  1. if you do try to even it out over the other 3 clans
     
  2. [​IMG]
    Name: Bosco
    Past names (if any): --, Lonestep if he joins a clan.
    Gender: Male
    Age: 27 moons
    Rank: Loner
    Mentor: --
    Apprentice: --
    Mate (if any): May or may not develop a crush.
    Kits (if any): --
    Short physical description: Strong, sleek build with rich brown fur, darkening towards his face, paws, and tail. Sharp, bright amber eyes and long claws.
    Personality: Bosco is calm, cool, and collected. Very mellow and mainly just goes with the flow. He is secretly very cunning and clever and has a way with his words. Calculated with a wide variety of humor. Doesn't seem to mind insults all that much, may even laugh. This tends to attract attention.
    Strengths: Speed and agility. Strategist.
    Weaknesses: Brutal strength isn't his forte. He's a loner so no back up. Tends to be chivalrous.
    Picture: --
    Clan: Loner, we'll see what clan he's drawn to.​
     
  3. Evanum looked back into the eyes of the necromancer. Whenever things had gotten out of hand he had always moved on. A tavern keeper's daughter and her angry father, impending bandit raids. Pompous princes and arrogant heroes. These were all reasons to move on the the next town. This was not his town. This was not his problem. Herded into the square with the rest of the townspeople there was one way out.

    "WHat kind of power are we talking about here?" he knew there would be a catch, there always was and he was only being offered this because we would be more useful alive than of a walking heap of bones.

    He pushed his way out of the crowd and walked a few steps towards the wizard. He could feel the eyes on his back, whispers of traitor.... they were just jealous because he would live. He shut out the whispers and the cries of the women. "I think I'll accept your offer, I'd just like to know the details."
     
  4. Prince Gawain Golgotha stalked through the woods, creeping on hands and knees beneath the thorn bushes. His sword was strapped across the back of his golden armour, and his hand was on the hilt, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

    He sniffed the air, then felt the ground where his prey had left tracks. He was close. With his ears finely attuned he listened to the sounds of his target. It was passing on the road up ahead, blissfully unaware of the hunter.

    Gawain got to the edge of the undergrowth, sighting his prey coming down the road. He curled up his legs, ready to pounce, and gripped his sword.

    "You're mine now...."

    Drawing his sword, he leapt from the trees and seized the beast around the neck, hanging on for dear life. "AH HAH!!!"

    The creature squealed and reared up, trying to throw the prince aside. But Gawain held on tightly, even as it... "Woah! NO!!!" ...even as the creature charged down the road and came to a sudden halt...

    "Waaaaaah!!!" The prince was flung into another tree, slamming face-first into the trunk. "Uuugh!" He slid down and landed in a heap on the floor.

    Getting up, the prince turned and pointed his sword as his foe. "Todger!"

    The horse turned, spreading its legs and sinking into a karate pose. There was a gleam in its eye and it snorted, dragging its hoof like a bull.

    "Todger....!"

    The horse charged forward, head-first towards the prince, snorting excitedly.

    "Aaaaagh!" Gawain turned and clambered up the tree, lifting his legs as the horse charged. With a echoing thud the horse ran straight into the tree, dazing itself then reeling backwards.

    "Ah hah!" declared the prince again. He dropped to the ground and stood in a victory pose as Todger staggered about.

    Then the tree feel down.

    "AAAAAAAGHHH!!!" screamed Gawain as he leapt out of the way. The trunk crashed down and Todger vaulted over it, kicking him in the face. Gawain stumbled, bringing up his fists and jabbing at the horse, which continued kicking him.

    "Take this! And this! And WOOOAHHH!!"

    Todger headbutted Gawain between the legs and picked him up on his back, charging back down the road.

    "Oh no ya don't!" Gawain got his legs around Todger's neck then used his arms to grab the next branch. The horse's eyes bulged as it was suddenly yanked backwards and horse and prince collided with each other and rolled down a slope.

    "Ooph! Aaagh! Uuugh! Gaagh!!"

    The two of them ended up on the verge of a cliff, overlooking the ocean. On the beach below the sodden remains of a shipwreck could be seen.

    Gawain now had the horse in a headlock. "Tried to get away from me, huh? You think cos I lost my ship you're no longer my horsie? Huh? HUH?"

    Todger snorted and scowled, trying to bite the prince's hair.

    Suddenly they both stopped and looked down at the beach below. Some figures were wading out of the sea and towards land. Perhaps a dozen of them, staggering a little, but all moving with purpose.

    "Hey!" smiled Gawain, "Some of my crew survived!"

    The men clambered onto the beach, picking seaweed from their skinless bones and spitting fish from their chattering skulls and drawing rusty swords in their skeletal hands.

    Gawain and Todger gulped.

    "Er... I think we should me moving along."

    Todger nodded and finally let the prince get back in the saddle.



     
  5. "W-What!?" Kang yelled, rising to a standing position from the chair on his floating platform, biting his lower lip at the news that the young minion gave. Turning to another, gesturing with his hand, "Take him to the medicine room!" At his prompting, two other minions came forward, grasping the bloodied minion and carrying him off.

    Sweeping around to face a black wall, he calls forth, "Main screen, turn on!"

    After a moment of fuzzy sizzling noises, an image showed in black-and-white of the front gates - of the legion that now rode against him. "That's..." He squinted, directing his platform forward with a joystick located on the arm of his chair. "That's not any of the other 'Villains'... what are those..." After a few moments of squinting pathetically at it, he sighs, shaking his head.

    ...Until the rider in front caught his eye. Brushing the black hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, he glances at the front rider for a moment. His gasp quivering with fear, a chill running down his spine.

    He whips around, kneeling to grab the speaker for the system he had up, "Gentlemen, Escape Route A-2. This is not a drill." He flicked a switch, and the flashing lights of the silent alarm washed through the base.

    Turning to face his captured prize, he shook his head. "We're leaving. Come on."
     
  6. Rosabel was standing with arms crossed and a delicate little nose turned up in the air. Dressed in lace, silk and other finery, she was a picture of beauty. A little fairy princess, sweet as sugar and delicate as a flower. Only... Rosabel wasn't feeling so sweet today. Or delicate. In fact, Rosabel was very annoyed and this was the final straw!

    "No! I'm tired of all this nonsense! It was funny at first, because I know my prince is coming to get me, but now it's just too much. How is he supposed to find me if we're running away to goodness knows where!" Honestly, the fiend was no match for her handsome prince. So Rosabel wasn't the least bit worried about that. But it had been almost three weeks without even a single word from her future husband. That was just not the way rescues were done.

    "I'm not moving an inch. Not even a smidgen!"
     
  7. NIMOY KNABOLDE

    “Please, good sirs, surely we can work something out?”

    His arms raised in the universal gesture of 'Hey look, I'm not armed with any large objects of hurting', Prince Nimoy Knabolde backed slowly away from the five Satyrs that had just levelled their crossbows at him. The leader of the group, a tall, goatee'd creature with his hair styled into a mohawk, looked at the Prince carefully again.
    “I give you 'dat much, mate. You don' look or act like any zombie ah've seen, and your no exactly trying to eat us and what, but still, I don' think we should be takin' any chances now, should we lads?”

    There was a chorus to the affirmative from the others, and if Nimoy's now undead body could have broken into a sweat, this would have been the point when he would have done so.
    “I speak the truth, my friends. I was a Knight of the Realm, leading a small force to ambush the undead. Only we fell into a trap and were wiped out. Now I find myself in this... predicament. I mean no harm to you or your people, I just wish to pass through.”
    “Like 'ah said, mate, you seem pretty convincin', like, but you could be a spy fur all I know. I don' think we should make exceptions, ya know? Gotta send a strong message.”
    “Just let me pass. You can follow me to the edge of the forest, even, if you don't trust me. I simply--”

    A horn sounded through the forest, leading Nimoy and the Satyrs to immediately begin to scan around the undergrowth for signs of it's source. Distantly, Nimoy thought he could hear marching, the rhythmic pounding of thousands of feet upon the ground. He glanced over at the leader of the Satyrs, who motioned for him to follow. Together, the group crept through the forest, reaching an edge were the trees gave way to a steep slope leading down into the valley below.

    Through the valley marched the ranks of the undead, at their centre a tall man with skin as white as snow and teeth that looked like they had been filed to razor sharp points. The six crouched at the edge of the slope, watching their progress.
    “Mates of yours?” the lead Satyr asked.
    “Certainly not,” Nimoy whispered back, his eyes never leaving the pale man, “That's the army that slaughtered my own.”


    Show Spoiler
    Prince Nimoy is introduced as he is being confronted by a group of Satyrs over his rather undead nature. He insists that he's not a threat, though the creatures don't seem terribly convinced. However, they are interrupted by the undead army marching through the valley next to the forest they are in, the army Nimoy recognises as the one that defeated his own.
     
  8. Musical Score: the Beautiful People - Marilyn Manson

    Near the entrance to Kang's Lair

    Nimoy and the satyrs watched the undead procession, the satyr's holding their breath for fear of alerting the creatures that marched below.

    Nimoy watched with a mixture of horror and facination as the skeletons came to a stop at the gates of the lair, and at the signal of the pale rider, a large carriage was led forwards, drawn by four skeletal horses, it looked very much like a cruel animals cage, and the Satyrs shuddered in abject loathing and horror as they beheld the creature that was held within, it looked like a misshapen cross between a wolf and a bat, although it was at least three times larger than a man, and as the cage doors opened it shuddered as it charged out of the cage, releasing a bloodthirsty howl as it made its way to the closed entrance of the lair, for the Satyrs had heard of these creatures, their sense of smell was almost as prodigious as their strength.

    it was said that the creatures were vampires who gave in to their thirst and the animal within, that they degenerated into such creatures of wicked intellect and unquenchable in thier thirst for blood.

    "Vargulf" one of the satyrs whimpered softly, just loud enough for nemoy to hear.
    [​IMG]



    Lair interior


    The walls shook once more, and this time the door came off its hinges slamming downwards, allowing Kang and Rosabel to see first hand their assailants, the ravenous Vargulf continued to bash at the entrance, it's snapping maw dry as a bone and it's eyes were black pools of madness.

    Abu Dabir

    The old man grinned wolfishly, before nodding to the skeletons, who advanced on the mob Evanum ahd left behind.
    they screiked and screamed but it did them little good, and a full minute after the slaughter began it was over, and Evanum and the old man were the only living individuals in the palace
    "thsi kidn of power" the old man whispered to the elf, opening an old tatttered book, bound in what looked to be hardened human hide.
    ancient words of malevolent intent coursed over the old man's tongue, and greyish green msit grew from the bodies of the slain, twisting and envelopign each, tendrils of the smog worked their way into the corpses noses, eyes, ears and any open wounds, and as the old man finally finished his chant, the dead rose, their wounds still bleeding although they were clearly dead, and they shambled off towards the door
    "do you see now young elf, what power you are offored?" the old man cackled as he too made to usher Evanum towards the door
    "Come, the master awaits"


    The Shipwreck

    as Gawain and Todger galloped off into the distance, the skeletons turned back from their pursuit and moved back towards the half sunken wreckage, when they emerged once more onto the beach, they held on their shoulders an old, blackened coffin.
     
  9. Evanum watched the slaughter, he tried to look away but from the moment he had turned to look, right up until the old man had spoken his eyes were locked on the twisted display. He shivered as they rose, their faces once filled with fear now dull and empty only now glimpsing the price of saving his own skin. He swallowed with the realization that there was no going back, that the ones he would now serve wielded the power they had just promised him, and greater.

    These chilling thoughts in his mind as followed the old man's direction away from the scene the undead creatures left to follow on their own accord. It was time to meet the one who now controlled his fate.

    Stepping thought the door it felt like he was leaving something behind, but something else too roused itself within him.
     
  10. "Dun de-dun der-duddle-dum, dun dun der-dun der duddle-dum!"

    Prince Gawain bounced around on the back of Todger as the horse stampeded down the forest road and over the rocky slopes flanking a valley. He tried his best to sing and narrate as the same time.

    "The fearsome Prince Gawain Golgotha.. Dun de-dun der-duddle-dum! Having vanquished the elves of Jirengard.. Dun dun der-dun der duddle-dum! Escapes treachery from the mutinous undead shipmates.. Dun de-dun der-duddle-dum! And now sets forth through the Forest on another adventure!"

    Todger grunted and rolled his eyes as he continued darting through the trees.

    Gawain lent down, patted the horse's side, then sat up again. "Ride hard, Todger. Ride hard and fast, for glory and Golgo...AAAGH!" A branch slammed into the prince's face and knocked him backwards over the horse's rear.

    Todger carried on galloping, dragging his master by one stirrup. They came out onto a ridge overlooking a valley, the prince dangling over the side and clonking his head on the slopes.

    "TOOOOOOOODGEEEEEEEEERRRRR!!!"

    The horse suddenly sighted something up ahead on the forest edge. Another of the undead warriors, with a gang of Satyrs. With a sqeuak Todger came skidding to a halt and Gawain was flung forward, tumbling down the valley-side.

    "Aaagh! Ooph! Uuugh!"

    He grabbed a handhold on the rocks and was left dangling over the valley.

    Meanwhile, up on the ridge, Todger tried his best to smile at the Satyrs.