OPEN SIGNUPS The Seven Dreaded: Nine Realms (IC)

[Beowulf]

Buras fought with controlled rage. He stuck to the fighting forms that he had been taught, but only just. He was growing frustrated with how events were unfolding around him. He could not defend both Trista and continue towards the sword no matter how hard he tried. If he moved towards the sword, Trista would be left to fend for herself. And if he stayed where he was, the horde of demons would eventually sweep over him. And to top it all off, there was this damn fog that had....

Everything was quite. No demons were around him, they had vanished as quickly as the fog had appeared. Suddenly a shrieking demon, with skin the color of blood, a long forked tongue, and cruelly shaped horns came rushing out of seemingly nowhere. A quick chop to the throat ended the demon's charge and crushed it's windpipe, effectively killing it. As it collapsed to the ground, clutching at it's throat and trying to breath, it became the only other noise in this fog. Until more demons came. Again he dispatched them, but again more came. In twos, threes, the group ever growing, testing his limit, seeing how many it would take to swallow him.

It was the fourth group of demons, six strong and some with slings, that finally caused him to snap. A stone brained the goliath that was Buras, causing him to stagger backwards. He could feel a sticky, warm wetness on his forehead, and when he checked what it was his hand came away red. A fury unlike any he had experienced before began to bubble up inside him. These were the creatures that had killed all the men, the men marked on his face in mourning. These creatures sacked the capital, killed his parents, and chased him out into the desert. Now they were trying to kill him. Well, he'd like to see them try.

Rage was the only emotion he felt, and the fog cleared up. He realized now that the fog was connected to some emotion of his that had been niggling around inside of him like maggots. Fear, doubt, reluctance, anyone of those emotions were plausible. But they had been replaced, replaced by anger. These demons did not appear to be effected by the fog, they did not have any of these emotions. Well, he'd show them one. If they did not fear anything, but one. Let that one thing be him.

With a roar to challenge a lion's, he once more threw himself at the demons. The smaller were ripped limb from limb, their arms and legs used briefly as weapons before they dissolved into ash, there being no exceptions to the rule. Eyes were gouged, jaws ripped off, horns shattered and scattered to the ground. If they feared only one thing, let that one thing be Buras. Let them fear Buras. They will fear Buras.

 

[Chris_Reaper]

As the chaos around him continued, Jericho begins to concentrate through the black haze. His mind reels back to his earliest training as a warrior and his adoptive father's voice echoes through his mind "Remember boy, the art of the Chakra is more than just the way a warrior fights, it's the way he thinks." The young warrior closes his eyes and quiets his thoughts, focusing on the environment around him. All at once things become much clearer and it's as if every sound, every vibration becomes attuned to his mind. With his eyes closed he leaps through the haze as one demon attacks him. Jeri catches the creature's arms and drives it's blade into another charging monster. Only this time, it works...the weapon cleaves straight through it's mark and Jeri finally realizes the secret.

"That's it...the demon's weapons will not work in our hands, but if we get them to inadvertently kill each other, that will do it!"

Another monster attacks, but Jeri simply ducks the blade...and the demon decapitates another of it's kind who had been approaching behind Jericho. Now Karra-Thule's blade was in sight, the inky mist was beggining to clear and Jeri sees his chance. He kicks a demon out of his path and dives for the sword...but his wrist is caught in mid air by a familiar taloned hand. Karra-Thule himself has entered the fray and stops Jeri mere millimeters from grabbing the sword.

"Not so fast mortal...did you really think I'd make it that easy!" he says as he violently flings Jericho to the ground. The demon lord than slashes the young warrior's back with his talons, leaving four deep claw marks.

Jeri gasps in pain as Karra-Thule attacks him, his back now seeping blood from the claw wounds. Karra-Thule lifts Jeri up by the throat and begins to tighten his grip, slowly cutting off the man's air way "It was a valiant effort, whelp. But as you'll learn, no one gets the best of the Lord Of the First Realm!"

Jeri struggles against the demon lord's choking hold. With each passing second, he strangles more and more...

 

[Michelle the Editor]

Vannara finally hears something, a sound penetrating the emptiness. It's Jericho's voice, saying something about...weapons? She turns toward the sound, starting to feel not frightened, but confused--and perhaps a bit irritated. Had he not been listening to her earlier when she'd suggested the very same thing? The emptiness started to dissolve around her now that her fear was being displaced. This threw her right back into the battle, though.

She threw up an arm just in time to catch what would have been a nasty blow to the face with a club. As it was the impact sent a jolt of pain through her arm, but didn't stun or kill her. She stumbled back a few steps and ducked the next blow, darting out of reach.

Karra-Thule towered over the rest of the demons, and mid-leap, Vannara realized that he was strangling Jericho. Thinking fast, she sent a gust of air towards her brother, rich enough to keep him from passing out from lack of air. Now he just had to worry about losing blood flow to his brain. She had to focus on her own fight after that, as a demon attacked her with a javelin. She managed to seize it above the spearhead and shove it back at him, impaling him on the other end.

 

[Spectre]

Edric burst out into a sprint- if you could call it that. Awkwardly thrashing through the sands as he attempted to evade anything these demons threw at him. The fighters seemed to take much of the attention, as did the ones heaving magic. Unfortunately he also heard one of the 'sisters' taking a heavy beating. It would all stop if someone just got to the damned weapon.

Then - the man who seemed to be the eldest had received the wrath of Karra-Thule. It was satisfying to Edric's darker sensibilities. He paid this no mind. and kept his mind on the task at hand- he continued toward the blade shoved into the sand. Moving like water- as he was trained- he was able to avoid most incoming harm. He then saw Vannara attempt to blast the demon lord with some of her magics.

It was then he was caught in the back with something as he sprinted toward the blade. Unsure what it was, all he knew is that it felt like being hit by a cannon ball. It sent him tumbling and spinning through the sand- but yet ever closer to the blade itself. He slid to a halt, a trailed wake of sand formed as he slid, following him as he stopped just meters from the blade itself...

A weak exhale escaped his lungs as he lifted his head out of the ground to peer at it. Then a large demon stepped before him, weapon clasped in both hands.

 

[Chris_Reaper]

As the creature's taloned hands squeeze tighter around his neck, Jericho continues to struggle...his breathing becoming shallower and shallower.

"Such a pity, it looks these other whelps will have to continue their fight against Nastor without this one, aye mortal? If this is the best you maggots can bring to the table, than you have proven yourself most unworthy of Karra-Thule's help. The Seven Dreaded indeed...however I do not intend to leave here empty handed, the soul of this son of Darris will provide a delightful consolation prize. Any last words, dog?"

Suddenly, Jericho feels a rush of wind flow through his lungs as his airway seizes open from an unknown force. Feeling some degree of strength return to his body, Jeri simply responds "Burn!" as he arches his legs upward to deliver a savage kick to the demon lord, knocking him off balance and thus releasing the young warrior. Galvanized by his second wind, Jeri begins to flush Karra-Thule with an unrelenting flurry of kicks and punches. The Blightsman leaps into the air in a backwards flip and again lands within gripping distance of the sword. He reaches for the weapon, but is yet again seized from behind by a recovered Karra-Thule, who wraps one his monstrous arms around Jericho's neck in an attempt to choke him out for a second time.

"Give it up whelp, you simply cannot beat a god!" says Karra-Thule as he wrestles Jericho to his knees.

"The Chakra favors niether god nor man, but those who understand it's essence!" shouts Jeri.

"...and what exactly is that supposed to mean mortal?"

"Simple...never underestimate your enemy!" yells Jericho as he grabs a handful of black sand, reaches behind him and jams the dust into the demon's eyes, causing him to stagger back.

Karra-Thule swings wildly into the air, Jeri tucks into a roll, tumbles forward and yanks the sword from the sandy earth. He swiftly whirls around and in one swipe and in a gutteral cry, beheads the demon lord with his own weapon. Karra-Thule's now headless body drops like a stone and for a single moment...all is quiet. The demonic horde suddenly vanishes and the rest of six siblings look on, wondering what has just transpired. After a few moments of eerie silence...the surrounding tribes erupt in jubliant and triumphant cheers. Jericho falls to one knee, exhausted and bleeding from several wounds. He leans on the sword for support and spits up a large wad of blood from his mouth, all while breathing hard.

Jeri looks over to his siblings from his kneeling position and grins weakly "Next time I decide to open my big mouth, feel free to strike me...hard."