Ethral City

[iwouldlikethisgone]

The battering ram was in place, the flesh giants were tearing down the walls. For hours this continued, the endless pounding, crashing against the walls. The gates burst inwards, the undead crews set to the work of moving the ram away from the gate, giving more room for the endless armies of the dead to maneuver.

Just away from the doors, the most experienced practitioners of war were gathered, behind loose, hastily constructed barricades. They were armed with heavy crushing weapons, made to break bones, crack skulls; a few had halberds, due to the calvary they had seen. Seemingly endless waves of these skeletons, armed with all manner of rusted weaponry, attacked this force. The skeletons moved with the insectile jerkiness, bones squeaking as they grated against each other. They met the soldiers, never ceasing, this went on for several minutes as the calvary was maneuvered closer to the fight.

The men fought with a zeal, they pushed back the dead, gaining ground, now well away from the barricades, covered by archers. They pushed farther and farther, broken bones littering the ground, rusted weapons laying in pools of the blood shed by the defenders. Suddenly, the dead started to retreat, and the soldiers gave a cheer, ready to press the advantage, but a waved hand by their superior told them to get back to the barricades. Behind them, the smashed bones began to rise. Jagged abominations of bone, constructed haphazardly, they were barely able to walk in a straight line. They served their purpose, keeping the soldiers from reaching the safety of barricades. Calvary changed at the men, zombified steeds moving with aid of the dark wind, and on top, lightly armored creatures, fused with the horse, bore down on the enemy. The halberds, about sixty of them, were lowered, and they were quite effective in the street. THe things crashed down, broken, useless. The abominations of the broken bones were a larger problem in of themselves, they were nearly impossible to kill, regenerating using the excess bones close to them, and even simply shifting the locations of various joints. When all of the foul horse-things were dead or gone, the skeletal minions of the great one poured into the street again, though in smaller numbers, serving only to distract from the true threat. Ghostly knights were moving through the massed undead with ease, going straight through them. The brave men of the city saw what was happening, and prepared for doom. They gave a great shout, "For Ethral!" and fought with all their might, all their hope that this stand might buy time for the other parts of the city to better prepare. They cut down the staggering abominations and ran around them, running to the barricades. They made it, but at the cost of 48 men, out of an original force of 274. 193 remained. They were behind their barricades, and the endless hordes swelled, joined now by the heavily armored Grave Guard, the elite skeletal soldiers of the Cult. They wielded a mixture of swords and flails, enchanted to cut through immaterial opponents, and heavy square shields, covering a good part of the body. They marched in formation with perfectly timed steps, they were more graceful than the other physical footslogging undead. These were the foes the hopeless now faced, the city was to fall. The spectral knights were now charging, closing in faster than the guard, in a wedge formation. The two elite forces hit at the exact same time, the effect was devastating. The soldiers fled as fast as they could, broken, but numerous gargoyles swooped down to intercept them. IT was a slaughter.. Blood flowed everywhere, now dead bodies being devoured by ghouls that now entered the gates, the few that were alive being hung from archways with thick chains, flayed to the bone but unable to die. This would go on for hours, or even days depending on how the siege went.

OVerhead massive skeletal dragons flew,terrifying the people and occasionally swooping down, breathing an ethereal fog that left blood on all surfaces it touched.  

[Rinexe]

One of the warriors outside the city came from the hole, moving his head checking for undead. There were plenty, so he backed down. A mage crawled over the warrior causing a few "umph" noises, so then the mage popped his hand out and let his light element fuse with the water element causing a water vapor of the element light to form. It floated through much of the undead outside the hole to either fall to the ground or escape. It worked as a good barrier. The mage crouched back down and motioned for the warriors to rush out, and so they did. The mist of Light covered the warriors as they now crouched, slowly walking, waiting for the moment the mist disappeared. The rogues got out from the hole, not using their bows but their knives. Each used a stealth skill and started to sneak out of the mist. Luckily, there were no wraiths that they could see. The mages were no hanging at the back ready to send reigns of fire.

------------------------------

Flux came from the hole and laughed as demons and undead spotted him walk out from the smoke. The demons flocked around him, his allies and he smiled at the undead. "Okay Mr Undead... attack me," he told the confused undead. He motioned his hands outward and all of the sudden... the demons were starting the massacre. The fight of the undead vs. demons had begun. Round 2, as they say.

 

[Awesome Sensei]

● It's Amazing! ●

Staring into the pile of flesh before him, Creed reached into his pocket, his blade dangling in his pinky finger while his index ran through his belongings, and after a moment he brought a bright bottle of what seemed to be alchohol, and after opening it, a putrid smell filled the air. "My aching back..." Creed uttered as he ingested the foul smelling gunk into his mouth, and swallowed, grimacing and shuttering. After moving for a bit, he noticed he was surrounded completely by the massive amount of undead. Overhead, it seemed even hell was joining in this fight. "Damnit... demons too? I really have no chance of winning. This is a lost war. I pray to Origin the world does not turn worse." Beginning to run, Creed began to slash at the undead, they were overpowering, the amount of them staggering, he had to escape or he too, would be lost within them. "Unless I use Origin... but I don't want to be punished..."

And so he ran.

● Let's ●

● Kill ●

● it! ●

 

[Rinexe]

((Awwww, you forgot that the demons are Flux's and Creed's pets...))

 

[garion3211]

Garion came from out of the ground in the middle of the fray, and blasted everything around him with boulders. He swept the dirt off of himself as Gregor popped out of the ground and began to swipe the undead as if they were flies. The dragons, however, would be a different story. They could fly, and it would be no simple matter harming them. Demons rose from the ground, though, and they seemed to be attacking the undead. It was just as Garion had always known.

It was never really about the light or the dark. Both existed, but not without each other. There was truly no light or dark 'side', though. Just as a country might have civil war, so too do those who prefer the dark and the light. Perhaps these simpletons were beginning to understand what he knew all along. It seemed too late, though, for the city was about to fall.

He wouldn't let it happen. The undead had to be stopped, one way or another. While all seemed hopeless, Garion knew that if he gathered those left that they would be the strongest of the resistance. It seemed no one was left but him, though, and someone who had a glimmer of strength was running. A coward for someone so powerful. No matter, he had to find someone, anyone who might be left. The castle seemed the most obvious places, as that was where the portal was. It seemed the undead had battered their way through the gate.

More importantly, though, there were priests maintaining the portal, and a man who seemed to maintain them. Gregor swept him up and pummeled through the hordes of undead towards the man. He was fighting demons, and Garion had a feeling there was nothing supportive about him. "YOU! You're with the undead, aren't you?"

Garion gathered a boulder from the earth and slung it at the chanting priests. If this portal was to disappear they would be the key to it.

(I guess I'm gonna go down in this sinking ship. No one else seems to be trying to defend it or stop this.)  

[iwouldlikethisgone]

Noticing that the imperfection was fleeing, the spirit fell back into its body, the god was again complete. The gates had been taken, and the forces of the necromancer were put into two categories, the mop up crew, and the main force, made to slay the daemons. It appeared that a general had taken control of the daemonic forces, and was marshaling them against the undead. Furthermore, an extremely powerful thing had appeared, it smelled of the earth. Normally, Dieter would not care, but it was in his city, killing all dread soldiers..

The mop up crew was guided by the still living ghouls, disgusting creatures that came to be when a human fed on undead flesh. They were generally hunched over, and the skin secreted a pinkish gooey liquid. They ate human flesh at all stages of decomposition, and they frequently fed on their allies, in fact it was how Dieter bribed them, to be controlled by him. They preferred living flesh however, and they acted like bloodhounds for the undead army. They would break into occupied houses, and drag out the people inside, taking bites out of them, screaming in unholy revelry. A mother was devoured alive, her arms still trying to protect her infant, bawling in the city. The crying ceased after another moment.

The dragons met little difficulty as they flew, killing all enemies they say, swooping down or blowing living shadow over concentrations of desperate human soldiers. Only one fell to the defender's hands that day.. A small group of men, including the hunter that had issued the original warning had managed to find a small, intact catapult and some ammunition on a second story roof, surrounded by skeletons. Likely set up by the attacking force. They put a stone on the catapult, and it was blessed by a cleric of the light, the rounded stone ball glowed a warm light, it soothed the men to look at it, though it burned away their sins in a rather painful way when they decided to touch it. Besides the cleric and the hunter; there were six others: an old retired knight, now in his bright armor, a blacksmith, wielding his creations for the first time, a mercenary soldier driven to the city in search of respectable labor, a young apprentice to a wizard in a far off land, and two gang members desperate to survive.

They sighted a skeletal dragon, likely easier to break compared to the zombie dragons. When it came close to purge them, the mercenary fired the catapult, having some experience in such matters. It struck the dragon's skull, shattering it; the beast fell, enchantment broken by the mixture of damage and holy light. The momentum of its flight carried it straight into a tower, toppling it. Its fall revealed a basement filled with foodstuff. Already a few skeletons armed with flints moved towards the supplies, seeking to destroy it.

Flying gargoyles instantly moved towards the group, commanded by the will of the Carrion God. They fell upon them with a fury. Tearing, and killing, the mercenary was the first to fall, followed by one of the gang-members. The blacksmith was carried up by a few of the things, and then thrown down, his new sword clattering upon the ground next to the broken corpse. The knight fell off of the roof, and seemed no worse for wear, the priest and mage floated down themselves. The other member of a gang fought ferociously, managing to actually kill one of the stone creatures with a strange bomb-like contraption before being torn apart. The hunter jumped off the building breaking an arm.

Four now lived.. The mage's apprentice ran into an alley, only to be devoured by feeding ghouls who had killed a zombie. The cleric and the knight faced down a hovering undead dragon. The knight prepared to throw his lance, freshly blessed by the cleric. Before he could, the dragon breathed upon them. Such agony was felt by the two, unbearably, so much so that the cleric began to smack himself against the ground, trying to end it. Flesh was falling off of their bones, rotting off, turning to a disgusting soup. Stains and armor was all that was left.

The hunter, now unarmed, saw the broken body of the blacksmith and his sword. Figuring that he needed a weapon the man walked cautiously towards the corpse. He winced when he saw the dragon breath, but it did not notice him, and flew away. The hunter reached down to grab the sword. Upon his hand was that of the blacksmith's, cracking from various broken bones. Blood was splattered about with every movement. It bit upon the man's hand, and he pulled away, tearing his skin off in a rather painful manner. He kicked the sword away from the zombie, and moved back. The undead creature could barely crawl from injuries. The hunter again picked up the blade with the hand with skin torn off, and he hacked off the foul creatures head.

The hunter now felt dizzy from his injuries, and he began to stagger, looking like one of the shambling undead himself. He was shot by a skeletal archer, hiding inside one of the darkened windows. The hunter fell, dead, and his body rose to join the ones he had fought so vainly against.  

[Limit Trigger]

I can only take so many punches

Walking along the edge of Ethral city, Exosus was covered with both demons and zombies, which were now part of the city itself. "Even if all is not lost..." His somber gaze locked onto the crosses, the sacrifices, the death. "Even if... we will never recover from this war." His head looked down, and all he saw were his trembling hands, under an ocean of flesh. A single shining object lay under the flesh. Getting onto one knee, Exosus stared into the small object before him. It was being held by a child, her head was gone, yet her grip was still strong. It was a necklace, being held together by a single bead, which broke as soon as he tried to grab it. The colored beads scattered across the ground, drawing near the enemy. Looking at the shining object which was connected to it, a locket was within it.

Exosus opened the treasure slowly, and within it, were two pictures, one of her mother, and of her father. Both were soaked in blood, the pictures were almost impossible to make out. Holding the locket in his hands, the blood soaked charm was placed back into the arms of the child, no older then six. Squeezing his eyes shut, Exosus refused to see the pain in the city. "Everything I can do... anything I do. It won't help you. I am sorry child." His echo filled the edge of the city, as tears fell down his now open eyes, he began to walk towards the center of the city, blade in hand.

"Nothing I say can make this go away, but I will try to make a better tomorrow! I live for the tomorrow I wish to live, now damnit Ethral your part of it!" Beginning to run forward, the army was large, immense, and denser then any fight he had ever seen.

Before I hit back...

 

[Rinexe]

Defaeco laughed as he observed the view of the man's heartfelt feelings show itself. The funnier thing was the fact that one of the undead was the child, and likely the parents were too. He slowly walked over to the man, cutting demons whilst spinning his sword, cutting heads off demons like they were nothing. On the opposite side of the city, he felt the presence of an old composer, one that went by the name of Flux. Defaeco let the sheathed the sword and took the staff from his back, quickly smashing the blunt end into another demon as it ran up to him. The man had started to run by then, and that was slightly annoying. Defaeco sighed, the eyelids over his golden eyes closing.

He launched himself into a sprint, until pressing his heavily armor feet against the ground, mid sprint. The force of his right foot caused a small crater when he launched forwards towards Exosus, his staff horizontally in front of him. Time to see who this man is... he thought to himself at the moment he launched. I need a living soldier to work for me...

 

[iwouldlikethisgone]

((It deleted my post....))

The defenders of Ethral were all but annihilated, only the barest remnants remained, hiding in those buildings lucky enough to escape destruction. The armies of the dead now moved towards the portal, the center of the city. Massive giants of flesh and bone strode through only the widest of streets, occasionally toppling buildings that stood between them and their goal. Dieter's elite grave-guard marched, not a sound coming from them save the heavy metallic clang of thousands of iron boots marching in unison. Vast hordes of zombies swarmed towards the center of the jewel of the continent, the capital. The streets were now only patrolled by the ghouls, hunting for the last scraps of fresh meat.

In the center, surrounded by daemons was the portal. The grave-guard stood, staring, silent. In contrast, the daemons made all manner of whooping hollers, and squelches; bestial roars, and pounding upon the ground. Eventually, the fel things' patience withered, and they rushed towards the armored bone. At once, a cadence of iron boots made slow, steady movements towards their demonic foe. They crashed against each other, a bloody fight for those who could bleed. The demonic foe crashed against the heavily armored undead, like the Oceans crashing against a beach of steel. And this was only the beginning, this was only the main road leading towards the center. Soon, all other entrances were filled with the soldiers of the living god, pressing against the enemy, pushing them back towards the portal; and ever was the ghostly castle above the scene.

He directed all excess energy to the floating castle, in order to make it manifest quicker. This addition to the already strenuous load upon the crucified was too much for most, draining all that they had, or alternately pushing too much of the necrotic wind through them. Many died, the unifying symptoms being a single spasm, blood pouring from the tear ducts. The castle was becoming more and more solid by the minute, and soon the unwanted portal would be shut.. The death toll of this overexertion was astronomic amongst even his own followers, but that did not matter. All that mattered was that the sinners were punished, the flesh now cleansed of any taint. Purity would reign..  

[Baksuetai_Tenshi]

Na_Nel frowned as she got closer to the city. She could smell the zheavy stench of rotting flesh. It was enough to make a person vomit constantly. She sighed. " Why is it that everytime i enter this city I always smell rotting flesh" She rolled her eyes in a slightly annoyed way.
Fang became uneasy as a shadow flew over head. She looked up to see a giant dead beast. She shivered, instantly reconizing it. " A Dragon" She whispered. This was too much! what had she missed during her " eternal slumber" She gritted her teeth and suddenly gripped ontoher dark swrd as it began to pulse and clatter within its beatuifully decorated case. Though it felt good to touch her sword once more.
As Fang slithered into the outskirts of the city she heard the slow movements of a couple of ghouls. Fang gave a loud rumble and suddenly lifted his head up, curling the rest of his body up to present a striking position. His White hot flaming tongue flickering quickly. She saw them move and quickly lept off the snakes head just as he was about to strike. She tumbled to the ground and rolled as she saw Fang bring his head back with a rotting limb in his mouth. It reeked fiercly and she covered her nose in protest. " Oh fang!! Spit that thing out!! Who knows what will happen if you devour such rotten flesh." She snapped her fingers and pointed to the ground in a mother like way. He rumbled and suddenly spat the thing he managed to get out before he could allow his flamming body to digest it. Instead he let his tongue pierce the bodies and soon they were set on fire, in order to get ride of the dead she was taught to set them ablaze or else risk battling those same parts again.
She sighed and lepted up onto her trusted beast's head once more. " We have to see if there are any survivors" She said with a great determination. Fang grumbled in protest but she gave him a scratch to the eye panel and he complied finally, heading even closer to the actual city walls  

[iwouldlikethisgone]

((Please note that the city is literally surrounded by crucified people and an undead army.)

Felling that the finale was here, Dieter felt that his presence was required at the portal. The shape of the magick was already set in stone, and he actually contributed a relatively small amount of magick compared to the energy of the objects, the sacrifices. He slowly came out of his trance, his ecstasy. The weakness of the flesh settled back upon the mage, and he began to cough for a moment, hacking up blood.

Only now did he notice that his tower of elegant bone, wheeled just outside of the city by the strength of death was lightly defended. As was all of the forces surrounding the city, a decent calvary charge would be able to push through.. But his tower was even further back, undefended besides two favored spirits, banshees noted for their beautiful, dreadful singing voices. The necromancer continued to cough, now suffering from an acute nose-bleed. Wracking pain spreading throughout his frail frame, weak.. THe living god began to slowly, carefully walk down stairs, preparing to go to the city, his mount already coming.. A long way off now, but rapidly closing the distance.  

[Baksuetai_Tenshi]

well noted now, but i thought they were heading tword the portal))  

[iwouldlikethisgone]

((The majority yes, but some still guard it from unwanted presence. Edited the above, this thing needs to come to a close.)  

[Baksuetai_Tenshi]

((ok))