War of Factions

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Lee-Lee, Jul 6, 2012.

  1. Nothing of his past life was retained during the transformation. His looks were at least somewhat spared. Other than his skin becoming paler and his canine teeth growing paler his handsome looks were kept. He was given his name when he came to Freiheit. Adriel! His name had rung throughout the halls of the fortress that had already been made when he arrived.

    That first night was incredible. He was given a meal and a young human girl to ravage. The next morning they carted her body away but he will never forget that night, how fragile her neck was underneath his fingers. He was strong, but he didn't know why he was strong. The halls were teeming with others like him. He noticed their numbers were made of mainly men. Every once and a while you could see the women but they were forced to wear rags and were only there to satisfy the sexual appetites of the males.

    The humans they held were the more interesting subjects. They scurried around the halls with chains wound tight and lash marks on their back. The overseers dragged them around reveling in their lack of strength and speed compared to the demons. It was their fault they didn't turn, so no mercy was ever shown. Few humans were kept around. Less started showing up at the doorstep. Probably warned off from various stories.

    Adriel and the demons had something bigger than humans showing up however. First it started with the angels. Their screams of hatred rained down on the fort about half a year after Adriel had found the area. They screamed for purity and ridding of the demons, but they had underestimated the size and force of the demons and had been beaten back. After the small battle the first Demiangel showed up. The angels had already cast them away, but the demons would not accept something that shared similarities with their enemies and cast them away as well.

    Adriel had now been alive for thirty years since the change. He was a commanding officer in the shoddy organized military the demons held. The title meant nothing though since the demons didn't fight with any thought in mind. This frustrated him; he envied the precise attacks of the angels sometimes for this very reason. Sighing he laid back onto his bed. He had one of the nicer rooms since he was one of the eldest demons alive. Fuck this war is making me old.
    He stared out the window towards Ouranios baring his teeth towards his foes.

    (Sorry this one is so long! all of them won't be near this long!)
  2. (( It's fine really, I don't mind the length. And I hope that my own post is alright. ))

    Parlus stared out the window of her room in Ouranios. It had been about thirty years since the transformation, apparently she had been turned into an Angel, at least that's what they claimed. At first she had thought that they simply turned into part-animal hybrids, they certainly had the wings of birds, didn't they? And the 'Demons' of Freiheit, some of them had wings like bats.

    She remembered her first night here, when they rushed her to Ouranios. They gave her the new name of Parlus, by now she didn't remember her old name, and her old life was just fading memories... she was confused, a lot of people- Oh, erm, Angels as they are now, were, but they regarded her warmly, gifting her with new clothes and feeding her well. Here in Ouranios, everyone seemed to dress somewhat plainly, the higher in rank you were, the more complicated your wardrobe was. They said that when she was of age, she'd be wed to a nice young man, and they'd produce plenty of nice little angels to repopulate the world with, though in truth she had always been hesitant about this. Apparently she had been arranged to marry a high-ranking Angel commander, and he seemed nice enough... though with the war she didn't see him much. And the date moved from 'when she was of age' to 'when they purified the world of the evil species'.

    There were the Demiangles, they were in all sorts of appearances. Some had the wings of both bats and birds, while others simply had grey colored wings. They were against them too, many of the Archangels, as the higher ranks were commonly called, referred to them as 'Dirty crossbreeds' and other various insults, many much more explicit than that. Though the Demiangles didn't seem to want anything to do with them either. And then there were the humans, she often saw them being led around with strong rope that would sometimes give them red marks against their necks, wrists, and ankles. The humans were often made to do the work that, to be frank, the other Angels didn't want to, but apparently these humans were the 'lucky' ones, she heard many Angels claim that it was an honor for them to work for them. The humans seemed to think differently, though.

    And she? She was a high ranking mage, she had quite a lot of 'magic potential', and it had only grown as she fought more and more, sometimes casting under their command, but more often than not was let free to do her own damage. From simple fire, ice, and lightning spells, to more advanced dark and light spells, and then finally the newly-treaded ground of plasma spells- though she hated using those sort of spells, the injuries and deaths to those she casted them towards seemed to have the worst pain imaginable.

    She looked towards Freiheit, of course the Angels said that place wasn't very nice, but somehow she had always thought that the Demiangles kingdom of Vermogen must be much, much worse and scarier.
  3. Trudging his way through his chamber, he growled at any passing demon. One tried to talk to him after repeated threats and he lunged at him, "Didn't you fucking listen?" He tore out the demon's eyes with his hands. "I...fucking...hate...this...place." He punctuated each word with a swift punch to the head while the demon bled out underneath him.

    Something here was driving him insane. He wanted to leave and be out of this war. There was another place he was sure. Another place a demon like him could be accepted. He wanted to kill an angel more than anything at this moment.

    The sirens sounded for another attack. His lips twitched almost into a smile. Please be an angel attack...please.
  4. Parlus was startled by the loud bells that rang, these were the bells that signified an attack. Grabbing for her staff, she looked out her window again. No forces seemed to coming towards them from either kingdom, so that must have meant that they were the attackers... somehow, it always seemed to be the latter.

    Gripping her staff, she rushed outside of her room, straightening her posture to make herself look more dignified. As she ran down the hall, she passed several angels who were preparing for the attack themselves, some of them even younger than 18... even when the 'times had changed' by now, she still felt a bit sick about that. She passed another Angel who had punched a human, and while she didn't get to see much of the scene in her rushing, the Angel seemed to be harshly scolding the human about 'their place'.

    She made it outside, going towards the back of the army of moving Angels, since mages weren't known for their physical strength, after all, but also being a high-ranking one she went in front of the other mages. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked to see the smiling face of her apparent 'fiance' before he rushed off. She sighed, wishing that this war would just end already, but even if the Angels were willing to give in, the other two forces might attack them... Perhaps if this war was over, she might get to know her to be 'husband' a bit more than just a few shoulder touches, smiles, and an occasional informal hair ruffle, it might make her less uneasy about marrying him. She had to admit that she didn't really like Ouranios, it wasn't 'bad' per say, it was just that she always felt so lonely here, even with the 'friends' that she made.

    Finally after a short motivational speech, the army moved towards Freiheit, ready to meet them on the battlefield.
  5. Adriel geared up in his armor. It was black metal with dyed yellow leather buckles and straps. He hated the armor it was constantly clanking and getting scuffed up. The humans had to work hard after each battle for it to look manageable again. The girl who did it always did a good job though and he liked her for it, feeding her scraps of extra food as reward. He was one of the few who could wear metal armor. He was flightless; his lack of wings used to upset him but then he realized it wasn't detrimental at all to his fighting. It was even helpful.

    He was deadly with his bow. He would wound an angel and then tear off their wings with his knife. He was merciless to any of the others, be it demon, angel, or demiangel. Adriel readied the release mechanism on his armor. He needed it in case he needed to run faster. The battlefield was a messy place, especially when you are on the ground. He snapped his finger producing a flame. The little magic he had wasn't very strong but effective. His manipulation of fire was helpful in keeping enemies from closing in, and could be combined with his knife and arrows to increase their deadliness. The more devastating power he had however, was his ability to inflict imagined pain on his enemies. It was only effective on the weakest of the armies, but if he had to hide and was found out in the wilderness he could instantly incapacitate his seeker.

    Walking out into the sunlight that gleamed on his dark hair he winced. The halls were always dark and cold, and being outside was always a shock at first. He placed his helmet on his head. The horns on the side were too embellished for him but it did help protect from falling debris. Knocking his fist against his helmet he roared and took his place among the commanding officer. Ready to kill the angels.
  6. Parlus continued to move with the army, waiting for her orders, even for one that would say that she could do whatever she pleased... in terms of using magic to hurt the enemy, that is. If she could really do whatever she wanted, she'd prefer to just stay out of this. Maybe even get out of Ouranios and become a rouge Angel, the thought of that sounded tempting, but could she really do that? The Angels might just try to stop her from escaping, since she was a high ranking mage who was arranged to marry, after all, but then again, she was a high ranking mage who could probably take most of them...

    The booming order to fly snapped her out of her thoughts. Her wings didn't look strong, and in truth they weren't, but with enough practice she was able to get a significant height off of the ground, though obviously not as high as those with stronger wings, and she didn't have as much stamina either. Flapping furiously, she managed to get herself off of the ground, and once she reached her limit, other Angel mages were much higher than her. Then came another order to do whatever damage they could. Parlus flew ahead of the others, holding up her staff and mumbling the words, "Mortalis tonitru..." soon after a strong electrical current came from her, electrocuting several demons.
  7. It seemed like this attack was going to take a while. Several of the angels were casting powerful spells above him, making it seem as if it was raining fire amiss a lightening storm. He nocked an arrow to his bow taking careful aim. Before he could fire however, he lowered his bow. "Fuck this shit." He had no will to go on. No will to continue fighting this senseless war. He released his armor in a frenzy. The metal plates clattered to the ground. His black clothing underneath made him feel exposed, unprotected.

    Dodging several demons he jumped on an angel's back sinking his teeth in the neck of his victim. The blood gushed into his mouth almost gagging him with the force. He spat as much as could out as he let the demon fall from his grasp. Looking around he spotted another grounded angel and took off in a sprint to kill it. Reaching for his knife, he realized it was gone. The epiphany tripped him up and he was lost in thought as to where it could be when a dagger sunk into his shoulder blade. The force of the knife made him fall into a roll. Taking an arrow from his quiver he turned and faced his assailant.

    The angel's face was calm as most of their faces were. Adriel's face distorted in rage just looking at it. His attacker was obviously one of he elite, for he held a mighty sword in one hand. The pain from Adriel's shoulder made him weak and disoriented. So this is what true pain feels like. Upset, he tried to pull out the dagger, but found that he couldn't. "There are barbs in that blade. Pulling it out would cause more damage than putting it in did." The angel's voice made Adriel even more upset. How dare this asshole speak to me? He sank to one knee in the pain. Somehow he had to get the dagger out.
  8. "Ardens lux." Parlus said, casting a light spell that shot out burning rays of light that could be blinding and burning to whomever the intended targets were, but it was a rather quick spell that only lasted half a minute at most. She looked down, seeing that her rays of light managed to hit a few demons.

    Her breathing got harder as she tried to stay in the air, finding it difficult to do so due to her fading stamina, and the fact that her spells were taking some energy didn't help. She looked around; dammit! Where was a healer when you needed one?! She couldn't just go down, surely she'd be swarmed by demons ready to attack her. Her required calm expression flinched when an arrow went past her, just barely hitting her. She needed someplace to land... there! A large rock that she could hide behind, and it didn't seem like the Demons or Angels were near it either. She descended it towards it, finally landing behind it. She didn't look behind her, in fear of them possibly seeing her.

    Her wings flattened to her back. She was tired of this war, what point to it was there? Did it really matter about who did this? It must have been pure instinct that raised this war, yet why didn't she feel the same way? Maybe she should escape, she wasn't sure if she could take another repeating day of waking up and waiting to fight again.
  9. Instead of being the hero and fighting the angel he decided to run. He inflicted the angel with pain for a few seconds, only enough to give him time to escape while not tiring him out. He saw a large rock that he knew he could hide behind. Mustering all his strength he stumbled his way over there. I have to make it...

    He wasn't trying to run away from the battle like a coward. With this knife in his shoulder though, there was no way he was going to survive longer than a few minutes out on the battlefield. The rock was just in front of him, so he knew he had to be able to make it. The knife was wedged so deep into his shoulder that he =was blacking out as he reached the rock. There seemed to be another figure at the rock, but he was passed out before he could figure out who.
  10. Parlus noticed someone coming towards her and immediately grabbed her staff, ready to fire off some spells to defend herself should they be an enemy, but then they suddenly fell down. She tried to get a good look at him without revealing herself, but couldn't tell whether he was an Angel, a Demon, or possibly a Demiangle. She finally just dragged his body towards the rock, since seeing the body might attract unwanted attention anyways.

    She looked at his back, he didn't seem to have any wings... She propped him up against the rock, not quite sure about what to do with him. Perhaps she was just ignorant, and she didn't want to admit any stupidity, but she couldn't tell what he was from the lack of wings, yet he seemed familiar... at the moment, however, she couldn't quite place what side he was on. Maybe a human, perhaps? She shook her head, deciding that he looked too strong to be one. She wasn't a healer, if she was she'd have used them on herself by now, and she wasn't sure about if she'd risk healing him anyways.
  11. Vivid images flashed through his mind when he collapsed. The images came from a peaceful world. Most likely the time before the change. Adriel couldn't see himself but he could see others in the flashbacks. Everyone was laughing. The faces grew more extreme with each image until they distorted into a twisted mesh of facial features. When he gained consciousness, he didn't open his eyes for some reason. His shoulder still burned, but it seemed the knife had loosened enough to be able to yank out if needed. He felt his body being propped up; it took all of his strength to not groan or move from the pain of being moved.

    When it seemed his company had moved further away he slightly opened his eyes. There was an Angel in front of him. She was beautiful to say the least, but most Angels were like that. Why hasn't she killed me yet? He then remembered he was wearing his normal gear. If he had been wearing his armor or helmet it would have easily given him away and he would most likely be dead. I guess having not having wings actually saved me. He wasn't sure of what to do. If he just sat there and didn't move he would be easy prey to other Angels. He had to find his chance to surprise this one.
  12. She finally noticed the knife in his shoulder, how could she have missed it before? Maybe the war was just desensitizing her to these sort of things, heaven knows that she couldn't avoid seeing such things, though she's tried. Her hand wavered towards the knife, hesitating about whether she should pull it out. It must be rather painful, after all, to have a knife stuck in you, and she was thankful to have been lucky enough to not have any weapon go that deep in her.

    She pulled back her hand. She remembered what kind of knife that was, she recalled seeing it before. That kind of knife had barbs, making it painful to enter, and even more painful to take out. Either way, pulling it out would either be helping an enemy or hurting an alley... though the Angels might be her enemies too if she ran away from them. She bit her lip, looking to the side. Should she? Survival wise, assuming that the Angels wouldn't have their kingdom taken over anytime soon, it might not be the best choice, but physiologically she wasn't sure if she could take anymore before she became an empty shell.

    She couldn't waste anymore time with thoughts, she had taken more than enough time to rest. She stood up, about to fly off so that she could go back to firing spells.
  13. Jumping up he wrapped his arms around the Angel pinning her wings from unfolding. He contemplated crushing her ribs, but decided against it. Picking her up, he slammed her to the ground with enough force to crack the ground. He tore the knife from his shoulder where he started to bleed profusely. Putting his knees on her shoulder blades he laid the knife on her throat. His breath came out in rapid bursts and his vision began to swirl.

    Dammit. He fell on top of her. Pulling out that knife wasn't the smartest thing he has done. The images started to flash before his eyes again as he passed out across her body. His eyes flickered under his eyelids.
  14. Parlus suddenly felt something wrap around her, and she soon realized that it was the same man who she was intending to leave alone. So he was an enemy after all. Naturally, she tried to struggle out of his hold, but it wasn't any use. If anything it just made it a bit more painful. Upon being slammed to the ground, she chocked out some blood, not used to being manhandled this way. She tried to spit out some sort of spell, without her staff it'd be unfocused, but at least it might get this brute off of her.

    "Ven... Ven... Ve-" she said, attempting to get out a spell with all the blood that she was spitting out onto the ground, some of it staining her clothes, but then she was interrupted by the knife on her throat. So this was it, perhaps it could be called a mercy kill, that made death seem a bit more welcoming... but then she felt him fall on top of her. She struggled to keep her head down from the knife, but with what she could see with her blurred vision, she soon discovered that it was the same, barbed knife that had been stuck in his shoulder. He must have succumbed to his wounds... no, someone like him couldn't be killed from such a wound, instead he must have passed out again.

    She had to escape before he got up again, "Ven... Vent-t..." she struggled with saying the spell, from him on her (which, now that she thought about it, was sort of awkward, but she preferred to pay attention to more important things) and from the inner wounds that she had sustained. Dammit, where was a healer when you needed them?!
  15. He shuddered when he awoke from her squirming. Pressing down on her shoulders again he snarled. "Don't you dare say a word." Baring his fangs even more, he reached for her neck. "Can you get me out of here?" Desperation crept up into his voice before he could keep it out. The war was sickening. It was changing him almost as much as the first big change had. He searched her face with no hatred. All he had in his body for emotion was sadness.

    For months now he had been having sick dreams. In each dream he had a partner shrouded in shadows. A woman with a beautiful voice. Each night he would fall in love with this woman; for once he was happy. He could never see her face or figure, but the things she said or did was everything he dreamed of. Every night, he would have to watch her die some gruesome way.

    It was changing him each night to have this happen to him. He needed to get away from death.
  16. Parlus tried to go against his words, but her throat locked up in fear, so perhaps this time he'd do it, if anything she was waiting for him to. It seemed like she gave up, and by now, she was tired of this war that had little to no reason to it. For god's sake, children were out there, slaughtering and being slaughtered, and for what?! Now this was beginning to slip into her dreams, the last safe haven she thought she had, but since she was so used to it you could say that she was really dreaming of nothing...

    But instead of death, he asked in desperation if she could help him to get out of here. What...? She looked in confusion at him, the sudden contrast in his face surprised her, he didn't look like he hated her at all, in fact, perhaps it was just her, he even seemed to be sort of... sad.

    "I... why? How...?" she said, wondering if he was really serious, or if he was just messing with her. Demons, and sometimes Demiangels too, often messed with their 'enemies'. Though now that she thought about it, Angels weren't any better either. She cleared her throat, swallowing some blood, "I guess I could..."