Cull the Weak, find the cure.

Outbreak

OOC: Using word count, 4800 words per player needed.

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The air around the ruins, the desert, it was filled with dry disdain and the scent of lost life. The atmosphere rang with an eerie sound that spoke of desecration of the dead, the destruction of their forms, and the violation of a certain "gods" followers. Perhaps it was most disheartening that this might have been caused by another more arrogant source of power, one which desired to drive all men to be its slaves, rather than for them to know the true and potent primal nature of the universe, the primordial truth by which anyone could feel and see their way in the world. Sharp couldn't allow for such a being to exist or to attempt to strip anything from her or Chaoris, her master, god, friend, companion, key holder, all of it was important equally so from one another. She could say for the first time that she was getting to know someone on a far more personal level, a level which was nearly unheard of, a level which gave Sharp a new purpose, a new focus, better reflexes, and the ability to understand parts of this world, even if her real feelings were locked away, never to be recovered, or at least that's what she believed.

Letting her dark cloak fall from her shoulders as she arrived within the sunken camp site, the natural dunes of the desert providing both an overlook and a place of safety for those who worked on these now uncovered ruins. The base was simple, a few tents scattered about, and a couple of magical machines, supposedly to move the mass quantities of sand, and one can't forget the dust ground that was beneath them, it felt like it hadn't had the wind upon it in so long that it was no longer completely of this earth. The brown and tan pitch of the area was a light from the still lit torches that illuminated the camp. It was all considered a nice location if it wasn't for the horrible events that probably took place here. While this was the surface, upon entering further into the camp site, the middle to be exact, Sharp could smell it, the iron tang within the air that rang only when a struggle took place, the life force of another had been spilt upon this alien soil, the life force of a follower that was trying to convert others through their mundane little work. Why one would continue such work even after knowing the truth Sharp couldn't understand, it was an act of cowardice in her mind to try and seduce others rather than show them with the force of a thousand battles behind your back, then again all she ever saw, heard, or felt was death, even with her first vision that though blurry to her, were ever-present within her mind.

Wandering around the camp site, the various plates in the dining tent, the dropped digging materials and the sealed door, all left her with the feeling of what happened, they were attacked and now they had vanished, probably into the ruin. Sharp could chase down into the cave, but that would be entering a cowards trap, one who couldn't face her head on, couldn't understand the truth and hope to come out on top. Calmly Sharp approached the doorway to the underground, or rather underworld of this place, a living tomb that had the scent of blood, decay, and cowardice, the false god had his servants within this area, and Sharp would do as she always did, slaughter them all. Huffing herself up, Sharp cleared her throat to project her voice.

"Come out you and face me, cowardly servants of your false god, come out now combat may be more glorious than a simple weak willed trap of the foolhardy."

As her declaration of war against the feeble minded creatures was stated, Sharp suddenly heard the shambling sounds come from around her, not just from the entrance. Suddenly she was surrounded, it was a horde of them. Most would have found their horrifying decayed appearance and hungry eyes a horrible sight, all Sharp saw was the failures of followers, and those unfit to live amidst them, they weren't a challenge they were merely the pawns, and she would dispose of them like the animals they were. Pulling out the MURDER sword with her left arm, she hoisted it into the air for all them to see, the glowing red blade blending with the light of the torches to make the area look like a hellscape.

"YOU WHO HAVE NO MIND, WHO ARE SLAVES TO A FALSE CORPSE GOD, YOU SHALL KNOW THE TRUTH OF THE UNIVERSE IN THIS BRIEF MOMENT, STARE UPON MY BODY, MY BLADE AND KNOW THAT THIS IS MY BENEDICTION!"

As she prepared to fight against them, suddenly she was ambushed by a different type of follower, a true animal which desired her flesh. Ripping her arm with her sword from its socket, the creature took delight in it's new prize as now more of the infected started to scramble around her with their maw's drooling from anticipation and the fresh smell of spilt life. Sharp knew that look in their eyes, but she felt it far stronger than them, the hunger for a battle. Taking her hand to the wounded area, Sharp took some of her own life's water and placed it up to her lips, this was the taste of the battle, and she would have her fill in this moment.

As the first infected attempted to pounce her body, Sharp grabbed them by the head, gripping into their skull and staring into the eyes of that which she had grabbed.

"The hunger for the slaughter is all that you can feel in your mind, you know no honor,m you know no truth, you know only that which drives a sad and empty god forward on a lost warpath that I shall cut at the head and destroy before it can ever bear fruit, SE$RVE ME NOW YOU FEEBLE CREATURE AND YOU MAY YET FIND SALVATION IN THE VOID!"

Gripping tighter and tighter upon the skull, she dug into it, and pulled out, taking the head with the spine intact from the corpse. Slamming the spine against the ground below, the unworthy crimson falling from it, she glared at the others approaching her.

"WITNESS THE FOLLY OF YOUR GOD AND REPENTWITH THESE WORDS, BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD, SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE, LET THE GALAXY BURN!"

As they got within striking distance, Sharp leaned backwards and spinning the spine around her, slamming with such force the sound of the smacking and cracking echoed even above the howling maw's. One by one she began to make headway, slamming the former foes parts into its fellow creatures, until finally it snapped into uselessness, but it was of no consequence, she merely grabbed another and repeated the process until but one remained, the dog who was trying to cut down into her own flesh, still trying to find a point that worked upon the torn appendage, finding no sustenance within the magical arm that held no true life nor death within. Kicking the infected dog over with the force, the corpses of at least a dozen if not more of the feeble infected laying behind her, their forms shattered just like their god soon would be.

Slamming her foot, the blood stained boot's heel digging into the creature, she looked down upon it with disgust as with one fell push she drove it into the netherworld teaming back to it's false master.

"FEEBLE CREATURE"

Walking over to her arm, she noticed it in shambles just like the infected that she had dealt with here, the ones who tried to drive her back but had failed, the weak, the sick, the now fully laid to rest. Shouting Sharp stated...

"IS THERE NO ONE WHO CAN PROVIDE A CHALLENGE, ARE THERE ONLY MINDLESS CREATURES WHO PROVIDE NOTHING BUT THE MOST PRIMAL OF BATTLES!? SHOW YOURSELF YOU CORRUPTER OF MEN, YOU FOUL GOD WHO I SHALL RIP THE SKULL FROM YOUR HEAD AND PRESENT AS AN OFFERING TO MY MASTER WITH PRIDE IN MY HEART."

breathing heavily Sharp sat down within the area, and waited, for both her arm to try and heal itself and for the foul god's followers to show themselves or possibly someone else, she didn't know. others might have an interest in here too, perhaps they were less violent, or maybe there were survivors too, yes she should call for them as well. Getting up as she realized this, Sharp went and got her blade back and stated in a softer tone...

"Any who follow my master and have lived, show yourselves, those who don't and have witnessed this come all the same that I show you more proof of the power and truth that he holds for this world, so that you may become enlightened, through the display of power I will show."

With that she started to wait, proper, at least for a small time, then she would have to move out for the slaughter to begin again.

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WC: 1531/4800 words

HP: 140/200.
MP: 85%.

spells used:

Any normal human would balk upon breathing in the air of this desert, such climates usually not desirable and yet many bearable through sheer human innovation and tenacity. This place wreaked of an odd undercurrent in the winds, one that kicked up the ‘fight-or-flight’ reaction within any beast possessing primal instincts, preferably flight given the lack of apparent threat. That subconscious intuition to leave a danger zone would prod the sane into leaving and probably scream at those who stood their ground out of a sense of duty.

’ “Normal” is little more than a word to describe those you wouldn’t look twice at, whose names will never be read.’

Then again any “average” person would see little reason to enter such ruins, knowing both instinctively and naturally that traps and dangers lurked within those decrepit walls. The “average” person would leave it up to professionals and those who cared to peak and seek out any truths hidden within those walls. With the rumor mills ablaze and recent events unfolding that notion couldn’t be any truer as the sane refused to set foot and even those duty bound now quavered at the thought of being assigned recon with the possibility of retrieval – assuming anything was left to be found.

’Wouldn’t want to be make an ass out of myself or anybody else however.’

As far as ruins went this place held its unique qualities and yet failed to spark any interest within the man as he observed the wind and sand worn walls, ignoring any of the eerie vibes practically wafting off it like a trash heap. If skeletal flies suddenly started circling the place like buzzards the man wouldn’t be surprised, though he might be minorly tempted to take them down as flies could be such a nuisance. Handing the binoculars off to the shorter, white-haired woman next to him, he let the next wash of wind pass right over him, jacket tails flickering a bit behind. Raven hair danced in the small gust, some held down or buffered by a pair of goggles currently strapped around his head. Eyes trained on the building in the distance, Faeral accepted the binoculars, his quiet partner apparently done with her assessment of the place.

”There appears to be someone walking there.”

The comment caught him off guard, expecting little more than a nod or some such, to the point he turned his head slightly and raised an eyebrow. ”Oh?” he remarked, setting off at a relaxed pace, ”Then I suppose we best head over. It’d be nice to retrieve at least one body, no?” Truth be told the fact that anybody would ignore their self-preservation instincts intrigued him, curious to perhaps see this face before something ripped or melted it off. They deserved at least a minor recollection whenever he felt nostalgic for someone with a spot of bravery.

Grains of sand crunched beneath boots, the earth at least hard rather than the obtrusive soft sand that was little better than wading through swampy waters or through waves. He’d force the duet to halt at a suspicious gathering of boulders, the rock formation perfect to hide on if they needed to avoid ancient motion-sensing worms from beneath the desert floor. From there they held a good vantage point and yet remained downwind of the curious target, the cloaked figure giving way to reveal a startlingly tall woman. The brief musing that Erika would be jealous over such height and yet not reveal such entertained him, the man knowing on occasion she found the height difference annoying if she wished to steal a kiss or few without him leaning over.

Hidden in the shadows, the man leaned casually against one of the taller rocks as Subaru folded her arms, both equally curious what this person hoped to accomplish. The words that reached them hadn’t been first on the list by far, but they certainly piqued further interest as she spoke about a false god and challenged some unseen people to a fight. Much to their surprise the calls were answered, though perhaps more due to sound than content as unearthly beings revealed themselves, the shambling bodies of what he suspected to be various missing people forming a circle around the woman. Their presence meant little more than an accepted challenge as the young woman brandished a sword, now loudly declaring what Faeral interpreted as her superiority to the crowd.

A dog would see fit to test this, a limb lost within seconds and taking her weapon with it no less.

Crimson eyes turned to him, though unlike most do-gooders Subaru’s feet nor body moved so much as an inch towards the woman. Silently she questioned whether they should jump into this woman’s aid or not, to which he merely waved his hand that they would stay and wait. After all he saw little reason to interfere when she’d proclaimed both her challenge and intent to take them all down in the name of some god, they’d merely be in the way and risking their lives for little reason.

’Besides, I want to see what she’s capable of if she follows a “True” God.’

Faeral never resolved to be a hero in any of his lives, the title holding little desire for him. The man didn’t need to be famous, and he’d been worshipped before. Risking his life for basically nothing made little sense to him however, especially when he could enjoy a show someone decided to perform of their own volition.

’Dance, if you will.’

When he first glimpsed the report of a couple disappearances the man felt the vague stirrings of intrigue, yet paid it little mind for the moment. Hearing about the fallen troupe of Rune Knight Assault team however increased that tenfold. Brawn clearly wasn’t the answer, but perhaps a necessary force if one were to gain any leverage through the bodies of these ex-humans. Something warped them, whether maliciously or natural remained to be seen.

The ferocity and passion with which she pulled the skull and spine from the body were things to admire, that much he decided.

Indeed it had been quite a show, the woman not failing to follow her word even if the blade never made it into proper play. On a stage this would’ve made for an astounding performance as she spoke, an invisible audience likely applauding her skills and soliloquy. He waited a few after the less heated words, letting Subaru take the cue rather than waste time signaling to the capable partner.

”I am no god,” came the voice from behind, the man opting to keep a wide birth as he circled into view, hands in pockets and a small smile in place, ”but if you’re willing and able to put on further demonstrations of your god’s power and truth, then you have a willing audience. Though if you’re looking to find the source of this false god’s power and the heart of its lies…then you also have a willing participant. If you can help me find the source of this false god and take it down…then I shall consider your god.”

Yet what might lie at the heart of this matter? That above all else lured Faeral to this location in the first place, the potential for something useless lurking within even if he knew not what might lie inside this den of woe. He could be creative though, able to whittle a purpose from something directionless as this stigma appeared to be, perhaps guide it more properly given the right mediums. If it could not be contained or controlled in some fashion then so be it, he’d play a small “heroic” role if only to dispel a danger to himself. The businessman held no desire for this to interfere with him down the road, knowing that a few of his father’s partners held odd interests – a few of them often fantasizing about treasure hunting.

They could die someday, just not outside of his choosing.

Knowing one or two particularly stupid ones, they might catch wind of this and the sheer “mysterious nature” of it all would pull them like cats to catnip until they rolled about in this mess, becoming one of these monsters and causing some rather obnoxious hiccups. Recreating this scenario for them would be easy anyhow, and possibly an interesting way to deal with competition…truly the possibilities could be endless.

The tall Rune Knight wouldn’t waste words explaining how she wouldn’t need to babysit him, the rapier plainly at his side, though he mostly refrained from wasting words as she looked like the type who could care less. Much like himself. Eyeing the arm the man chose to erase it from his mind, the thing unsalvageable at this point and a nuisance to drag along whether or not Erika could reattach the thing. Besides it’d probably just infect her.

Offering a hand to help her up because he could at least show a few gentlemanly manners here and there, again the man smiled at her and asked, ”If that’s all right with you, otherwise we’ll just hang back and let you prove yourself to your heart’s content. If it is your wish to fall in combat, mademoiselle, and should you do so today, then we will not stop you.”

The calming atmosphere became halted with the sound of company approaching the young girl, the scent of fresh battle still present, she had to focus to calm her mind, the rush was still there, though the opponents were far from worthy, she knew that slaughtering them with such impunity provided her with a bit of a release, and helped in the destruction of the opposing worthless gods forces. Perhaps more would come to attempt to steal her dedication or shatter the illusion of this vibrant peace, or maybe they would simply become fodder for the god, to die horribly for no purpose, to lose their entire lives for no reason, to become corrupted like they had and then die without purpose, what a pitiable existence. Sharp would hope that she would never suffer the same fate as them though death eluded her due to her very nature, which brought about other philosophical problems, that she would have to go over later, with what little understanding she could summerize.

The torches in the air flickered a small amount of wind picked up, and a man approached from what people would normally assume was the edge of her vision, but she could see him clearly, him and his little companion that started to approach. She was on edge, and ready to go in case a fight broke out, hell she lived for fights to take place and was always on edge because of it. These two though, there was something off about them, the girl with him seemed different, false perhaps? Like Sharp was, a being that looked plain but hid something else underneath, it was too much speculation, but for some reason her mind triggered a bit of a warning with the girl. The man however, he seemed right as rain and completely normal, in fact he looked very dapper, this put Sharp on edge right off the bat, someone who appeared normal and kind was often anything but, and even if they were there was normally another motive behind their words, actions, fangs, all of it the same. They would try and twist and corrupt till they got what they wanted out of you, and Sharp had no time for such pointless talk and manipulation, she simply needed to point her weapon in a direction, and slaughter. She wasn't technically alive, but at the same time if she didn't do such actions then she might as well be dead.

The soft breeze stopped blowing as the torches flickered back to full power cascading the dry ditch area in their warm light, showcasing the carnage and bodies left in Sharp's wake, the two approaching and the man speaking to Sharp. He was clearly the one in charge, but both were dangerous, Sharp could feel it, sense it, it was within the air, the carnage made her thoughts clearer, sharper. The man spoke about how he would try and see more about this gods power and desired to destroy the false god as well, this was too good to be true in Sharp's mind, but she would roll with it, she couldn't strike out against someone who was willing to try and see the truth, but at the same time she could be warey of them, after all she always watcher back, in fact she watchred all sides for any form of treachery, betrayal or blastphamey. His words were like honey, too bad for him that Sharp wasn't a bee. Taking his hand and standing up, Sharp would then try and speak towards him, the man being just a bit taller than her, which was a bit of a change from Chaoris who towered over her, was it strange that this man was so short, or was she just really tall? Sharp found all of it so confusing, why did people care about height and such, as long as you could fight, did it really matter who was bigger, cut them in half then they were shorter, simple as that.

"Martyerdom is something that will forever elude me, so it is not my intetion to fall in battle, especially to such pathetic creatures that lack any form of purpose, dignity, honor, they are corrupted by the greed of another and stripped till nothing remains, pitty them. Should you wish to try and see what I am showing, and accept it as truth then following me and witnessing my fighting is a good option, but you must also experience it yourself if you are too truely understand what a primarl truth is, without the experience you are nothing but a lost one, like them who I have killed."

Moving towards the entrance, Sharp made sure to make her gaze keen, she didn't wish to find that more of the unfaithful were around, or that this man was working with a false god. Such actions would be most unwelcome as she woudl then have to slaughter another that was more sentient, but if she had to, she would do it without hesitiation, just would seem like a massive waste.

"Within this place, I can sense, foul magic, corruption, falsehoods, lies, be prepared young scholar with a top hat, that you and your companion don't find the wrong truth, I shall have to cut you down as well, don't believe me missing an arm at this moment makes me weaker, losing such an apprendage has no effect on my blade's edge, it's already growing back anyway."

It was a bit, though mostly only because she had started partaking the blood of her foes, tainted though it was, it gave her a bit of strength, which was all she needed to crush her opponents. motioning with her one good arm, or rather only current arm right now, Sharp pointed to her side.

"You shall not follow, but stride by my side, draw your weapon, experience the primarl truth of a battle when we come upon them, and know my edge, feel my power, feel his power, feel the enemies convictions, my convictions, your own, all clash in one moment, it's the only way to understand another, words are meaningless without knowing them, which is why if you wish for me to believe your's, you must fight."

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Total WC: 2572/4800 words
Post WC: 1041 words.

HP: 140/200.
MP: 85%.

Hammer Hand: 2/3 posts.

Accepting of the aid as she was, the words intrigued him on multiple levels. For one thing despite the injury she functioned normally enough – merely down to half her usual arm ownership – something that’d leave many folks screaming in agony let alone capable of taking down a group of zombie-like people thereafter. ’If it forever eludes her…’ That line alone lead to a tree of branching questions, the heart of it all: is she immortal? Perhaps she did possess some god’s blessing to fight as she did without showing an ounce of pain, leaving the man to ponder whether her god truly existed or not. Heavens knows in his multitude of lives the man came across those who worshipped false deities, some who followed actual divine beings, and others who prayed to created thoughts and entities.

’Never mind my past life.’

The smile wouldn’t show as he recalled the life of being a false deity – because the man knew that compared to the people they may as well have been gods, but only because of the power that group came to possess and not out of any actual divine affinity or lineage. Any of the “god slayers” of this place and lifetime wouldn’t have found them any easier to kill than another human save for maybe one person, and even then Faeral surmised it stemmed more from her otherworldly powers than any true godhood. However it’d been a fair few lifetimes since he last allied himself with any “god” let alone worshipped one.

Her stipulation for “watching” involved a more proactive approach than he might initially like, but it wasn’t abhorred. He merely wanted to test the waters of how much he could get for free, not unlike many others in life, just that Faeral could accept the inevitable need to dirty his hands whereas others might throw a hissy fit. Besides it wasn’t as if he detested bloodshed – necessary or otherwise. When one befriended Erika they learned to accept that some walls became painted red for one reason or another, and more so when they turned into enemies of one or the other of the pair. Mostly the man liked to avoid getting his hands dirty for the most part because things could more easily be linked to him….at least if he did it himself rather than dealing with the “rabble and scum” himself. One had to defend themselves after all…

However if she wanted a participant then he’d walk by her side, though Subaru kept more to the back of the group, vigilantly peering around so they wouldn’t worry about sneak attacks. Neither knew that the girl with them would probably pick up any incoming threats first so the transformed beast kept a hand on her large sword just in case.

’Top hat? How the…’ The little mention of his favorite part of any wardrobe threw the man off to the point he almost stumbled because of it, not even sporting some of the traveling and worn variations at this time. Perhaps he retained that visual stance decreeing his upbringing however, a thing he – at times – had issues completely removing. Then again as he came on this mission as a part of the Rune Knights the man didn’t feel as though he had to play the part of country bumpkin either or every day commoner. If the tall musician wanted to hold himself up a little higher then there wasn’t any problem with it right now.

Taking the woman’s advice he drew the thin blade from its scabbard to be at the ready, her words flowing in and had he any less control the man may have grinned rather darkly. ’Fighting to prove one’s self right? To see whose ideals are stronger or their will greater to prove them right? Hmm….I suppose it’s actually a refreshing thought…leaving all words behind in favor of pure action…’ Mind games had become his thing over a variety of lifetimes, recalling in the very distant past times of acting purely for the sake of bloodshed and to be a soldier on the battlefield. All over the sake of glory for their kingdom, their liege, and the sake of a treasure he wanted so badly that never made it to those grubby hands. The same hands that fell before the first death…

No, now wasn’t time to get caught up in the past, not with the sounds of shuffling and a moan here and there edging ever closer.

’Perhaps I can truly indulge for the first time in a fair while.’

People clad in bits of armor or traveling gear stumbled towards their little group, nary a thought in those glassy eyes except the simple desire to consume, to eat. They acted little more than as beasts now meant to satiate their hunger, and they lacked any potential for mind games. They merely acted. Clever persuasions or even meager name calling wouldn’t give rise of sway to their whims, something that left him feeling a little…free at the moment. It truly had been a while since he could indulge in bloodshed for the sake of mindless slaughter and combat with little a goal in mind beyond survival.

However the sheer hoard of them had the man returning the blade to its scabbard, a minorly annoyed scoff leaving before he smiled, a questionable glint in his eye.

It was time to put on a show.

Clicking his tongue lightly, a wand of sorts manifested in his hand, the thing ending in a ring of spikes. At first it might as well have been a glorified, giant bubble wand until a few circles of light spun in the middle and an array of spikes formed of a similar crimson light formed. Half of them gave way to the curved, segmented blade of the scythe, the thing illuminating the passage more than the meager torches could’ve hoped to accomplish and bathed the man in its reddened tones. Stroking along the blade each panel lit up in the wake of his hand, soft piano keys playing in the very air as he finally let loose the dark grin lurking inside. While normally he might’ve murmured something along the lines of “let’s play” the man offered no clever lines to those who wouldn’t appreciate them, instead dashing past the first few in a blur of red.

The ones behind them stopped, torn between confusion and the desire to move and strike as the first slash caused a line to appear across each of their torsos, the second slash already cleaving through them as they started to move again. Their frames began shuddering even if the understanding of “why” escaped them, falling to the floor as those cuts eventually gave way to bursts of spoiled blood. The small row of fountains didn’t stop his charge however as he turned the blade about and swung it upward, slicing from hip to shoulder of the nearest shuffler, and then rather than go for another swing with the blade merely brought it back down, letting the corporeal spikes slam deep into that soft neck and force his rotting mouth turn and sink into the body of one of its infected mates, the thing jerking about from the sudden invasion of its personal bubble. That one soon found its feet swept out from under them and the spiked ring shoved harshly into its face, the ethereal blades slicing through the earlier compadre’s legs and forcing it to the ground. One swift swing of a booted foot found it losing a jaw alongside a fair chunk of its head, ensuring the man would have to clean them thoroughly later.

But…that was for later.

All the while a haunting tune began to pick up its pace, the pianist possessed by a dark muse.


MP: 85%

Spell used:

Dark Chime:

The trip was short but restless, Sharp still had her mind on the fresh actions of combat, and believed in nothing short of slaughter at this very moment, she had now two who were interested in her god, though to her he was also her master and key holder, potentially more if she could overcome and sort of difficulties in her mind and being. Something was holding her back, she would have to temper her expectations at this moment, the hallway made her feel some unease. The place, it felt as if there was a foul magic about, something more was going down in this area, it was corrupted, violated, she would see that it would be set right one way or another. Perhaps her blade would see it set right, after all, nothing couldn't be cut down, that is why Chaoris fought on the front lines, he knew this full well, the challenge and the fight, that was all that mattered, spilling of life matter everywhere. For Sharp it was meditation, she could understand another only through contact of her blade. Come to think of it, she didn't know how Chaoris felt about her, she only knew that he desired worshippers and never considered what she really meant to him, she didn't know much but she would like to know where she stood, and that was another reason to fight this day, to slaughter in front of these others, to show them the true path. She would fight to make his attentions and decisions known to her, this would become now a most important battle ahead of her.

Thankfully for Sharp, she didn't have to wait very long for the battle to unfold, and to see that this man would fight by her side. Marvelous, this was going to be even better than she thought. Her body pulsed with anticipation as she waited for just a moment to see what the man would do, what he would use, and then she saw it, a unique weapon, a magical weapon, he could fight in melee as well, this was good, he was worthy of seeing the truth and knowing it, but not fully by her hand, but by his. He wasn't one to sit back and fire towards the enemy till they stopped moving, no he would get in there and kill them, at least these fools, truly she was right, he did look like a top hat using man, and totally wasn't due to me not reading about how he wasn't wearing his top hat, shut up.

Drawing her blade from the hilt, the crimson glow illuminated the entire area with its hue, a hue to soon match the same color of the enemies around her. It was her intimidation factor and the color that she desired to spill most. Her eyes gazing upon the horde in this decently sized room in the approached. Letting out a battle cry Sharp pointed her blade to her left side.

"COWARD, COME AND FIGHT ME, SEND YOUR CHAMPIONS THAT I MAY SLAUGHTER THEM ALL! THESE ARE INSUFFICIENT CHALLENGES!"

Extending her blade the maximum length possible, she swung it to the right side, then back to the left then across, the back and forth again, each time cutting deeply into the monsters, slicing them into bits, the crimson life matter spilled forth like a hail of rain from a flood. if it wasn't so putrid and corrupted, Sharp might have desired to partake of it, but alas it was the enemies, violated blood that served no purpose other than derailing Sharp from her true principals, she would have to savor her taste for a real fight, a real challenge, and one who wasn't completely repulsive, one could offer blood worthy of Chaoris's name, rather than simply fill the void of the ground with its matter. The zombies, however, many of them there were now rested in pieces upon the floor, their lives, or rather lack of lives taken away in an instant. This was the power of those who followed Chaoris, and she wished for Faeral to know that she wanted him to know about the pain and the power that could be inflicted and felt in battle and how fast one could end it if the challenge wasn't great enough.

Thankfully, or sadly if you are in the camp of fighting less powerful foes, more enemies showed up, the ground started to rumble, the bones of the fallen making a sickening clattering sound upon the ground as they stirred from their new resting places. several of them were crushed underneath the bloated and corrupt feet of the create that entered the room. It was terrifying to behold, that is if you experienced fear, thankfully Sharp knew no such weakness within her mind. A gurgled clicking howl was let out as the beast made its way towards Sharp. Gripping her blade's hilt harder, Sharp took a swing towards the creature to strike it down and test its might. As it was unleashed upon it, the blade bounced, the searing sound of flesh normally being destroyed was met by it not being flesh at all, but tiny scales, sure the burn marks were there but the blade hadn't actually cut them, hadn't spilled blood. This enemy would provide an acceptable challenge now. Slicing towards it from the other side, the blade bounced, which once again only left marks, by the time she could perform a third swing the creatures massive arm swung down towards her, the huge claws on it's hands attempting to kill her in one blow. Teleporting behind it, she attempted to drive her blade into its back only to find it bounce, even with pressure applied. Swinging backward it knocked her off of its back, landing on her feet she prepared to launch another attack at it, but it was a bit too late the creature had its claw swinging already and she had to block with her blade. The force of the blow knocked her sideways and onto the blood soaked area; her outfit being ruined by the corrupted material. Her MURDER Swords blade broken due to the impact, the hilt showing the sparks from the blow, it would take time for it to repair itself with the magical backup generator within, and now she was in a tight spot, a creature with neigh invincible armor vs her with one arm, how would she manage... by fighting like a beast.

Though it disgusted her, Sharp had licked the blood as she had slid along the floor, her tongue feeling the burn from the blood and from some of the impacts that she had made, but now she would try and activate a trump card, she would try and activate some of the corruption inside of herself that was placed there by a power far stronger than her own, stronger than Chaoris even. Morphing as she took in the blood, her body twisted as her wounds started to heal and her left arm was restored though more as a legged appendage. Turning into a more demonic looking hound within a short time, Sharp let out a blood curled howl of a noise before growling towards the creature bearing down upon her. She detested using this form, as it made her feel like a beast rather than a true combatant, but it was the only way to slaughter this opponent and continue to preach the messages.

The monster let loose his swing just as Sharp jumped up and moved along his massive arms length, her target was the face, it was the only place that couldn't have been covered though it lacked for much and looked almost like a maggot, it would have to do. Slicing at the face she noticed that some blood did spill, indeed, there were weaknesses in its design, and she could now exploit it. As the creature let out a bit of a painful roar, it proceeded to flail and knocked her from it's body, but just like before she landed perfectly, and was now ready to begin the final assault against it.

The monster now lunged towards her, but attempted to slice as where she would go upon his arm, thankfully her senses were... sharp... so she predicted this just in time to jump from one arm to the other, and then with a leap towards it's face, let her jaws dig into its rotted core. Violently grasping into the beast with her teeth she strained it as it let out baleful noises. Slicing with her paws containing her more violent claws, She unleashed hell upon it till it finally could flail no longer and fell backward onto the ground, the earth shaking as the creatures impact almost made the room collapse from the rumble alone. Panting Sharp looked like a mess, her sleek black fur covered in the mouth creatures liquid and her face covered with it, though sadly she didn't have time to try and clean herself off, the sound of rumbling began again, and from the same way that the other two more came, one even bigger than the other, their husks showing their corruption and their maws showing their hunger and ferocity. Sharp would still fight, but she wasn't fully capable as of this moment, she was weakened heavily from all of the battle and her zealous sacrifices, not to mention her ever-growing conflicts within her own body. Perhaps it was good that Faeral showed up, perhaps he could now show her what his determination was, and they could both see the end of this false gods minions once and for all. Speaking in a gasping more demonic tone, Sharp directed her voice towards Faeral.

"More assail us, prepare yourself future disciple, we must kill them like the others, with conviction, strength, and skill!"

---

Total WC: 4395/4800
Post WC: 1643

HP: 130/200
MP: 15%

Hammer Hand: 3/3
Demon Dog: 1/4

new stuff used:

Things fell in a magical symphony, the lazy prey making for a wonderful tune he’d have to perform for Erika at some point – no doubt one that was right up her alley. The fervor of which the ivories were struck and the cords rang filled the man’s ears until no more surrounded their group, returning to his mind enough to watch the latter half of his odd, new little ally’s bout. If nothing else the man could definitely appreciate a grand performance when he saw one. He enjoyed the elegance with which Erika often dispatched foes, yet the determination this woman – that he belatedly realized he’d forgotten to exchange names with, but their meeting had been a little unorthodox at the same time – showed in taking down this strange, scaled beast was magnificent in a different way.

And that beastly form, who knew she had it in her?

’There’s something to be said about getting to know one in combat.’ The realization that her words rang truer than he first thought inspired a small smirk, impressed that someone relatively straightforward and as religious as she might spark an interesting concept in his mind. There’d been other people he avoided using any abilities with, at least visually as the man often hid to support Subaru and…whims permitting…other people with his style of magic. And despite the usual tactics it’d been invigorating to slice these altered citizens while their reduced minds couldn’t fathom why their bodies refused to move when it appeared little worse for wear until the damage caught up with them.

There was little time to offer the woman a bottle of water or anything to clean up her mottled fur, the wretched blood not doing her any favors for the moment, as another pair of creatures came forth. One of them sped up, lunging into sight and the room with long, outstretched arms. Like its grubbier brother this thing sported a scaled hide, though appeared as if some form of mange must’ve hit as bald patches littered here and there, head filled to the brim with sharp teeth and yet lacked any sign of eyes. The world flashed by as his capable companion shoved him aside, blocking the worst of the attack with her broadsword and yet found herself forced backwards and slammed into the ground, claws scraping against armor and leather on the way down. Once they’d landed it hissed its mock roar, drool pooling down several of the longer fangs to drip onto her grimacing face, the white haired woman displeased with the arrangement and yet glad she’d taken the blow for her master.

As he sat kneeling from the sudden push, Faeral looked up to stare into the ghastly visage of the other creature, the right hand with its grotesquely enlarged claws a bit worrisome. ’Judging by those muscles…none of us will make it out of here even if we chose to attempt an escape.’ It wouldn’t even be a matter of “making sure you’re faster than someone else” in this case – the thing would simply chase them all down and smear them against the ground or walls: wherever seemed best at the time he was sure. Despite Subaru holding the ability to fly in her true form it would likely chase them…and then there’d be further troubles to answer for unleashing this thing upon the world…

…for once duty aligned with self-interest.

’Pity.’

Behind him the sounds of battle ensued as his white haired companion would distract the other horrid beastie away from him, eager to protect her master: something he’d be forever grateful for even if he never vocalized it. It was something the man was merely better at showing through their lifetimes together, the beast following a similar cycle of reincarnation as him even if she managed to retain her true form. He never had to question her loyalty or ability to somehow find him in each lifetime as in turn the dark haired Rune Knight proceeded to dance around this other, ugly and warped behemoth of wretchedness.

His jacket suffered slashes here and there, some spots likely to bruise later as he barely avoided other blows. If nothing else the man would be feeling this in the morning and Erika might even mock him for it as he lay groaning on a couch, determined to tell everyone else to “fuck off” because his father’s business could suck it in such painful times. However he’d know at the end of the day he’d sliced through this annoying beast, the scythe moving through the skin and attacking internally instead. He could watch as steps faltered after a slice or two to calves and thighs, the ways blows from the arms weren’t as bad after a blow as well.

All the while the beast didn’t relent even if it slowed here and there from his whirling and twirling dance, the music seemingly angering the thing.

Skilled as he was, all it took was a simple pool of blood to cause the man to slip up, watching helplessly as that massive hand slammed into him and sent him careening into a nearby wall. Dust and rubble blossomed from the point of impact, obscuring him and hiding the shameful slide to the ground at least as he coughed out a bit of blood, rivulets staining clothes here and there. A trail slithered its way down with a fat drop along the side of his face, tickling just the edge of his eye, only tangling the very edges of his lashes before it slid an inch or two along his jaw to drop into the man’s lap.

More important than the pain.

More important than the blood.

More important than the destruction to his wardrobe.

Anger exploded in the man.

’Fuck this thing.’

Faeral certainly wasn’t foolish enough to believe he’d escape life unscathed or uncontested in abilities or skill, that he wouldn’t be injured and…dare he say it, forced to bleed his own blood. That didn’t mean he couldn’t hate it however, especially coming from something lacking any sense of decorum or even class as that thing. There lacked any sense of respect or liking for this ghastly beast, this thing that should be slaughtered and rent piece by painful, tiny piece until it screamed for mercy and forgiveness in whatever order it so pleased. If the musician even entertained the idea for a mere nanosecond that this thing could experience true sentient thought and didn’t merely act like a smart predator, he might’ve deigned to consider the usual desire to make its every last second of life a suffering hell.

Instead he’d have to settle for the next best thing: overkill.

Questionable energy swirled about the man as a rarely used power coursed through him, the man not one to announce his lineage to many. Even his father failed to suspect the blood that coursed through his veins, bequeathed by the woman who painstakingly carried him in her womb and then tried to raise him before the selfishness of the businessman forced her execution. As it sought to strike once he stood up, a malicious grin curled along his lips as something shot out of the wall, wrenching the beast’s arm backwards and force it to bend with an annoyed cry

”You shall pay for the sins you’ve cast against our master.”

Almost stark white – contrary to the abilities used to summon forth the demon – its red eyes glowed amidst its strong and smooth hide, golden horns and claws shining in what little light the torches exuded. A black underbelly followed to the end of its large, spade tail as it further dug in claws until the bones hidden beneath sinuous muscle finally gave way and multiple cracks could be heard. The large hand came forth to cut loose the limb, allowing the behemoth monstrosity to turn its sights back on Faeral with another grunting roar of rage.

Reaching out to strike with that massive claw of a hand, two more forms sprung forth to halt the beast in its dire quest, a massive hand stopping one claw even as three sets of multiple fangs chomped down on the other three. The Cerberus beast sported no fur, its skin hardened covered along its back in armor as the tail remained bound in the otherworldly metal, heads sporting helms melded to their very being as two sets of fangs revealed themselves in each one’s maw, the frenzied beasts biting down more and more as layer upon layer gave way beneath their might. Their partner sat in a crouched state, though its legs could extend to reveal a more humanized form if not for its body-length arms, muscles bulging as it helped to hold back the beast’s fury, glowing dully from its dark auburn skin, a light above its masked face flickering not unlike fire. As the canines slowly destroyed their prizes its free hand rose up before slamming into one of the finger joints, forcing the appendage from the hand entirely.

The final servant slammed directly into the beast, and in a mock performance of its other questionably formed ally, roared into the thing’s disfigured face. Out of the quartet this one looked closest to the vile things they’d been fighting, but its energy remained different and sentient thought still coursed through its veins as it slammed down again into the thing before pouncing upon the other dancing, tantalizing target its master’s loyal servant still fought.

By the time the Cerberus and humanized demon moved apart another Faeral revealed himself, the clone perfect if not for the fact he’d been born entirely of darkness and shadows. In his hand a pure white blade shone brilliantly, its sheathe none too different aside for the haunting lantern at the end that waved in the air and created the soft sounds of a flute in the air, calling to the weaker hoards. Though shuffling forms would walk into the room, they would ignore the undead dragon and rosy wyvern locked in combat with the now trying to escape scaled beast, and even go right past the canine altered Sharp. Their sole goal now was to attack the form their new “master” decreed even as they shied away from the true form of Faeral.

The one who could no longer be viewed properly beneath his Pharoah armor.

Boots clacked against the floor as he slowly approached the enraged thing, disarmed and clawless, before it could think to charge hands raced from the man’s shadow to wrap around its legs and force the thing to trip. The solid ‘thud’ was satisfying…but not enough.

Where it once dominated the room the thing could barely remain standing, barely able to knock the three demons off of it before another took its place as he slowly walked up to it, watching as they inevitably tired it out bit by splendid bit.

No words would be wasted on this disgusting thing. No clever lines, no mentions of how it’d earned this or deserved it, not even an enraged soliloquy about how the man hadn’t appreciated that last, painful impact as he brought the scythe down into its heart over and over again.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

Even after the power of the scythe deactivated, even after he stopped listening to the single note that kept playing, even after it stopped moving entirely or even bleeding did Faeral stop until he was satisfied. This abhorrent creature had caused him enough pain, time, and energy so it wasn’t done until he felt like it was. Finally, when the slushy “thucksh” noises were no longer pleasing to the ear, did he relent. Walking away the man didn’t look back as the trio dove into their meal, happily ripping the remains asunder as their prize as he walked back to the woman, a most curious thought striking him.

Again offering her a hand – even if it looked as though he might be asking for her to “shake” in dog form – the man spoke beneath the mask in a very calm and almost casual voice.

”Pardon me, but I did forget to introduce myself earlier. My name is Faeral, and my partner’s is Subaru in her human form, and Morphine in the wyvern form you see behind me. May we have your’s?”


MP: 70%

Dark Chime: ability on CD, still active for another post

Spells used

Character - Pharaoh:

Lineage used

The fearsome fighting, normally Sharp would engage in such a display of combat and violence, however, it was against her principals to indulge in such a combat. Sharp wouldn't interfere with another's combat, no matter what happened to them, should they fall then they fell knowing their opponent and dying a worthy death if they prevailed then they had overcome their opponents will and lived. These disgusting corrupt creatures normally wouldn't warrant her conducting this code, but this man was finally starting to come out of his shell and engage in combat with a fury that rivaled her own, though in his own way. The creature was brutal and primal, she would know, she had to attempt to devourer its face in order to win the fight, but his fury was intelligent, it drove a grace and skill, yet a primal rage. The blow against him only seemed to drive him to further concentration and battle lust. Sharp could understand him completely in this moment, she knew these feelings, knew this goal, and it was a glorious moment. She had done her job perfectly, and her master had blessed this area, even if he wasn't actually here right now in the physical. Blood on all sides was split, fury was shown, and destruction was wrought, all glory to the blood god.

The summoning of allies let her a bit sour, but they acted more as his rage embodied and his battle lust manifest then some kind of ally to take blows, though his friend the wyvern, also was showing promise, though a bit less so than him, perhaps due to their nature, Sharp knew that feeling too, but restraint would soon fade with time and proper release. What actually impressed her and connected with Sharp on a level that only rivaled Chaoris was his pure rage at the creature, the violent and passion filled stabs made her almost see Chaoris in him at that brief moment, before the man that she could almost fall for, just like she had might have for Chaoris, faded away into a more calm and composed man who offered her a hand. Not willing to accept it with a paw she focused and reverted her form though she was a bit less clothed than before. Taking his hand again she rose to meet him on almost eye level.

"I am Sharp, it is the only name I remember being given to me, my master and god is Chaoris, the blood god, today much has been spilled in his honor, from you, the corrupted filth and myself, though you may not follow him in full worship, you're actions have pleased him, for that I acknowledge you as a comrade."

Looking around and seeing her boots covered in blood, but still functional Sharp went over to retrieve them only to speak out once more.

"let us press onward, there are more of them further down, I can sense it, though one request. Does your companion have any extra garments upon them, mine have found themselves tattered as they often do."

With that, Sharp would prepare to fight the enemy at their main headquarters, to slaughter them like the animals they were. This story will also be told... to be continued in the next part of the job!

---

Total WC: 4945/4800
Post WC: 550

HP: 140/200
MP: 85%

Hammer hand CD: 1/4
Demon dog: 2/4