>{ROLEPLAY}<

Blasted fool! You thought you could escape the grasp of a mind like myself! I pray to my ancestors, to wipe away this burning crusade with the waters of their blood! And there it was, a huge tidal wave bombarded the weak flames, diminishing them to no more than a few, wispy flames. And now, with the undead in my arms, I pulled out a small, egg-like sphere. (The one that I mentioned earlier.) I threw it to the ground with all my soul could give me, and out sprouted a castle. A castle of dead. A castle of never-ending evil. With it, out sprouted impenetrable walls, complete with cannons, archer towers, and small slits for crossbow aiming. A city of dead prospered within those walls. Each day, my personal (and the zombie) army growing stronger and stronger by the minute. My power grows, and it looks like I've found someone to kill. I will haunt his dreams and drive him into the depths of insanity. Nothing awaits you, my dear.

(Okay, possibly the biggest battle in the RP yet. I hope for many more to come. My new city, Uinen's Keep, replaces the old zombie base. I'm now the new owner of the zombies. Darren is still leader of an outcast mercenary camp or something, it seems. I've officially claimed the powers of the zombie horde!)

 

( You guys might be a little hard to beat with such strangely huge powers. I want to have an egg sphere which poops out castles too, or was it an entire city?? If Darren is fine with this, masonmistel can be the winner.. but I would like it if the structure masonmistel threw out from nowhere would just be a keep of some sort, and would be even better if you just used that sphere to blam Darren somewhere else? I'll be waiting for his reply)

 

(Sure, sure. Maaybe it could be in the city of humans that got ruined? Uh it just feels silly to have a sphere creating an entire castle with one big poof :P )

 

(No, it's more of a castle surrounding a small town, not a city. I suppose I worded it incorrectly. But yes, you have your haven and I have mine. I told you the sphere held vast powers. :) But... If you all aren't too fond of it, we can revert it back to a run-down mercenary camp. Nevertheless, I still own the zombies!)

 

(Sorry it took a while, I almost ran out of ideas. :D)

As I wake up from my burrow, I can hear the sounds of zombies approaching! As I quietly try not to make a noise... The zombies must've passed as their footsteps went towards somewhere else. I carefully get all my stuff and peek out of my burrow entrance. No one, so I cautiously sneaked out.. Creeping out of the woods, I eventually find myself against a bunch o' zombies. Once again I slash myself through them, heading out to search for more human survivors. (seriously, that's getting repetitive. :p, give me something to do.) As night falls, I find a cave. I just covered up the entrance once again, filled the room with lanterns, quarters, armories, etc. I go to sleep again only to dream about the same Celestial Light at the temple, somehow, I have a sudden urge to find some books about it in the morning.

 

(Hella, could you make a post about the 'quest' to find a cure? Otherwise this roleplay will quickly get stale, with no sign of advancement ^^)

 

(Yes, agreed. If he hasn't replied till evening, I'll make a reply myself.)

 

I never liked this adventuring lark, and the past few hours have done little to change my opinion. Trudging through cold, wet mud is not my idea of fun, and having to listen to Garreth's constant whining has not improved my mood. On the plus side, there are hundreds of tiny little mushrooms that I may be able to utilise for my potions. Who knows, maybe one of them will cure the King, though I doubt it. But as I gaze into the undergrowth, I spot, out of the corner of my eye, a flicker, a shadow, of movement. Then another, and another! As I peer into the murky darkness, A hundred pairs suddenly glared right back at me; accompanied by a cacophony of high pitched shrieks! I opened my mouth to issue a warning, but the others had already realised, and were gazing up at the ridge above us, gazing at the gangs of foul creatures ready to pounce. Goblins.

 

(damn why did i forget about the rp, still wanna join)

 

(You may still join, just write a decent application and push yourself a nice hole in the story.)

Rainy morning.

I have awakened. To my surprise I wasn't wet at all, though I dare not have a thought of possibly recuperating, as my body is still in terrible pain, and I am barely able to breath. I cannot focus my vision anymore, and the fear of blinding starts to gnaw my slowly pumping heart.

Asleep I saw a dream, or at least felt like I was seeing a dream, distant, ancient spelling cutting through the wind and dark clouds that rumble in the sky.
As I know the ancient language of the dragons that this spell was casted in, I'm in great fear about Baldulf. Even though it may not have been used against him, someone in this land has a seeminlgy a high powers.. not many know about the dragon language. The necromancer?

I call my two bodyguards with my hoarse and silent sound, but I get no answer. I can hear a loud crack coming from my back as I force the long-lost power of my muscles to turn me around. There seems to be no one and nothing in the entrance of the tent, aside from the pine leaves hiding it from the other world. I try to call my bodyguards again, but I get no voice coming from my throat.

As I drop the wrap aside of the bed and feel the cold autumn air pushing my legs, giving me shivers, I slowly get up and drop my feet. The cold air feels like nothing in comparison to the pain trying to tear my head apart. This was a false try; I fall on ground, panthing, tear drops of cry moving along my thin cheek. Why would God force anything like this on any of his children? The more desperate I have never been, but a horrifying moan coming from outside of the tent cuts off my self-destructive thoughts.

This may be what I'm afraid it is, and I desperately try to search for any kind of weapon. My sword Dnaèm is resting on a small wooden chair, but I am too weak to carry it, so with a sad mind I take the blue diamond from the handle of it.

"This will do.", I whisper to myself.

I drag my feet to the entrance, and carefully move the pine branches, but there seems to be nothing.
"Where would've they went.. i-i..*cough* *cough*..idiotic bastards.."
Walking out from the tent, wind pushing me as if it wanted me to stay, I see something terrible; My both bodyguards lie on ground, eaten, their intestines lying everywhere. And I see none of the civilians.
''No!'' -That's all what I get to say when I hear the moan coming from the depth of a tortured soul, forced back into body, and something pushes me. I fall on the intestines. An undead. Through the rottening flesh, blood, mud and moan, I can still recognize the familiar face; "Mother?"

It attacks again, and I'm barely able to roll a bit aside so its weight doesn't crush my bones. A mix of spit and vomit dropping to my face, I grab the diamond and mumble: "Don't worry mother, I'll free you from pain for eternity. Ahlàn Dnaèm Baffio!"
I feel exhaustion as the celestial light coming from the diamond pushes the undead back, pieces of it flying away with the wind, and soon it is gone. Yet I hear moaning and dragging of feet behind me again, and slowly I turn my head around - more? I gave all I had to the spell. I can't move my feet. I can do nothing but watch. a Pray flies to the God, to let me to meet him when this is over. They are getting closer.

Then, something, out of nowhere, cuts through the flesh, cuts through the bones. Moves like a lightning bolt through the zombies.
I can't recognize him as my vision is still blurred, but I sigh, and fall on ground. I close my eyes. I don't care anymore. Whatever happens, let it happen.

"Are you okay, sir? Sir? I guess he's fainted, old man.. I'm Arkaium Justicar. I'll get you to safety."

I can't answer. I'm in too great pain and exhaustion.
Soon my body is resting on shoulders, and judging by the sounds, we're in woods.

I have never been as happy, and faith fills my heart again.

(Oh crap masonmistel, I guess this is why you should never have sex when drunk :( )

(Darren, feel free to revenge masonmistel by joining our group when we reach his castle. (speaking about the castle, could it be the one we left in a hurry when it was overrun by zombies?))

 

Time has passed. Not much, but surely it has. I'm currently occupied on a machine that will use the power of a certain being to once more see my ancestors. I must retrieve an ounce of his pure blood and his severed head. Only that will grant me the power to see and receive the gifts my ancestors left for me long ago. Who is this man, you may ask? King Balròk.

 

(Come to me; join my forces and thrive.)

 

(hmmmmm, who should i join, and who i should be...)

 

(I reckon you should join neutral or the humans, up to you though. Damn shame that Hella's busy with these 'A-Levels' or whatever they're called. After all, writing a roleplay based on a fictional universe is far better than getting a good career)

 

(You're starting to make Shax look like a right coward :()
Goblins! Horrible, filthy smelly goblins! There were so many of them, about to swarm around us....I was terrified! One of the bastards leaped for me from the slope, so, being a true hero, I uttered a heroic scream before diving in terror to the floor by Baldruf's feet. We were doomed!
(And cue Hella bravely saving me(/stamping on my head) from the goblins)

 

I swung the sword Baldruf gave me with.... difficulty. More times than not I almost skewered the knight in half with my wild swings, with him seeming more afraid of my lack of swordsmanship than the goblins. We were holding our own, and it looked like there might be a way out of this minor pickle we found ourselves in, when I heard a terrible scream! Gareth had dropped his sword, and was covered from head to toe in goblins, slowly having his flesh picked apart by ferocious teeth. The idiot Cavall roared a gutteral war cry (well, it sounded more like a terrified squeak) and charged into Gareth, trying to knock the goblins loose. But it was too late, his face was a ruined mess, clawed to pieces by the bloodthirsty horde. But at last, the torrent of goblins began to thin, until they turned around and fled, with Cavall, a furious wreck, cursing at their backs as they disappeared into the undergrowth. Baldruf looked tired, standing upon a pile of corpses, blood coating his armour. I looked at Gareth lying still on the ground, and immediately saw that there was nothing I could do for him. He had passed into the void. And then there were three.