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[ 93] Nymaya: Stygian Descent - The Last Trek (IV)
Sun Apr 4 01:12:19 2010
To: All Crelius Reklah ( story chain ) Imm Necrucifer RP Religion
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She was not aware as she was simultaneously flung and pulled down, down toward a tiny speck of crimson that grew at an alarmingly fast rate. The flames of the Inferno below - a blighted realm of fire - rose up to sear her and as she fell, the hood of her cloak drew back.
Silver hair flowing around her, she regained consciousness as the sky opened up. Suffocating in the hellish conditions, her mind refusing to make any sense of the horrors she was seeing in the sky, in the air, on the ground...she gripped the periapt in desperation.
Call him, elf.
She opened her mouth, needing to take in a breath and in the same moment, her body struck something. A demonic screech filled her world and she lost her grasp on consciousness again. It was a second incorporeal impact, directly against her sternum, that forced her back. Her world filled with crimson, a corruption that stole every aspect of who and what she was.
Breath was compelled back into her lungs and as the entity departed, the name came forth in a rush.
She kept a hold of her senses long enough to see ebony flame erupt around her. To feel its protection cool her, to take in an acidic, metallic tasting breath and then - nothing.
She drifted in an accursed oblivion, for an eternity and more it felt. She would have been happy to stay there, it was better than the hell that awaited beyond.
"Awaken, Nymaya"
The command prompted her aching eyes to open and she found herself lying upon a mound before a series of twisted arches. Each construct was made of varying material, be it flesh and innards or pure gold. She was panting, short and terribly wet breaths. Blood colored her nearly gray-blue lips and trailed down her chin. She didn't want to think any further about any of it as she pushed her excruciated body up from the ashen ground. She even managed to subdue a portion of the alarming realization that she was surrounded on the outset of the arches by all manner of fiends.
"You should have called me sooner." She was rebuked by the ethereal voice and, having not the strength to glare at him, she turned her pained gaze upon the azure image of Crelius. "But you have done better than I thought you would."
She couldn't answer but she felt a deeper reserve of strength inundate her...just in time to watch the form of Reklah fall through an arch of such soul-sucking black that to look upon it was to experience true and utter hopelessness.
He hit the ground with such force that it was a wonder to see his armored chest rise and fall with life. She thought that her first sight of him would prompt her to linger mindlessly but she was moving in the same instance of his appearance.
"Guide him." Crelius ordered. "The way out is not far."
And, kneeling beside the man she had risked everything to free, she lifted one of his arms over her own damaged shoulders. It was only with a forceful invocation of her Lord's name that she got him to his feet, but upon speaking the mere word, she felt her spirit pulse with the power it inspired - and the last trek began.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Stygian Descent (III)
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[ 92] Nymaya: Stygian Descent (III)
Sat Apr 3 16:26:00 2010
To: All Crelius Reklah ( story chain ) Imm Necrucifer RP Religion
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her body was spiraling through the dark again, her mind trapped within a vortex of vertigo and black foreboding. Panic began to eat at the edges of everything. Her lungs struggled against the crushing sensation while she was enveloped in the swirling perfection of black, hellish nothing.
The fluctuation of heat and cold were such as she descended now that no part of her was spared the experience of thousands of unending, piercing needle points. She could feel her grasp of sanity tearing with the torment and it was in this she found some small saving grace - for the madness felt familiar in an alien landscape of constant shadow.
---
Ravaged - physically, mentally and spiritually - she could only bow beneath the exceptional weight. The spark of life was slender, held aloft only by a thin shadowy tendril of faith and pure stubborn drive.
Her hand flexed around the periapt that hung down from her throat and through touch alone, she felt its baleful will. A faint pulse of malevolent urging followed, filling her head with a flash of crimson pain. It seemed that even Uvall was bound from this place.
She had no more strength to think beyond the immediate and, with a breath that rasped terribly in her chest, she forced herself up...
...to behold a sight that took that breath back from her.
It seemed as if the whole of Algoron she could see had been reshaped. The promontory she stood upon overlooked the vast spread of a forest she recognized, if only by its shape upon the blasted land now. The Vallenwood was burned to ash and all the land she could see near it looked to be in a similar disrupted state.
An agony, a loss, unlike any other gripped her chest and for a moment she wondered if it would kill her. Even in exile a part of her had been bound to this place - to her origin...
"There is no more hope for you." The voice was dark, serious but tinged with a perpetual hint of superiority. Keylan. "Why cling to what has been lost for eternity?"
So convincing. The brush of magic, of a will that was both cunning and powerful, tempted her.
"Leave off, Keylan." She breathed, still trying to force her mind through the painful rejection of what was clearly before her. His chuckle was soft but belittling.
"Ah, I suppose that's what I always liked about you, sister." He went on with amusement. "Dedicated and stubborn to a fault." -his pause was long and heavy while it lasted- "Come now, Nymaya. I don't want to have to kill you. Malachive is willing to overlook your sins."
A spike of cold alarm raced down her spine and she turned slowly to gaze upon her half-brother. He looked emaciated, gray and hollow but there was power radiating around him. He held out his hand. "Come. Your purpose doesn't have to end here. Reklah awaits."
She never got a chance to answer as a second spike of crimson pain filled her head at the sound of his name. Her knees hit the ground as she bent over it, aware that something had changed. A series of pure demonic screams barreled into her maybe seconds after, enraged, and she felt herself ripped from the Border realm.
(cont.)
[ 92] Nymaya: Stygian Descent (III)
Sat Apr 3 16:26:00 2010
To: All Crelius Reklah ( story chain ) Imm Necrucifer RP Religion
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her body was spiraling through the dark again, her mind trapped within a vortex of vertigo and black foreboding. Panic began to eat at the edges of everything. Her lungs struggled against the crushing sensation while she was enveloped in the swirling perfection of black, hellish nothing.
The fluctuation of heat and cold were such as she descended now that no part of her was spared the experience of thousands of unending, piercing needle points. She could feel her grasp of sanity tearing with the torment and it was in this she found some small saving grace - for the madness felt familiar in an alien landscape of constant shadow.
---
Ravaged - physically, mentally and spiritually - she could only bow beneath the exceptional weight. The spark of life was slender, held aloft only by a thin shadowy tendril of faith and pure stubborn drive.
Her hand flexed around the periapt that hung down from her throat and through touch alone, she felt its baleful will. A faint pulse of malevolent urging followed, filling her head with a flash of crimson pain. It seemed that even Uvall was bound from this place.
She had no more strength to think beyond the immediate and, with a breath that rasped terribly in her chest, she forced herself up...
...to behold a sight that took that breath back from her.
It seemed as if the whole of Algoron she could see had been reshaped. The promontory she stood upon overlooked the vast spread of a forest she recognized, if only by its shape upon the blasted land now. The Vallenwood was burned to ash and all the land she could see near it looked to be in a similar disrupted state.
An agony, a loss, unlike any other gripped her chest and for a moment she wondered if it would kill her. Even in exile a part of her had been bound to this place - to her origin...
"There is no more hope for you." The voice was dark, serious but tinged with a perpetual hint of superiority. Keylan. "Why cling to what has been lost for eternity?"
So convincing. The brush of magic, of a will that was both cunning and powerful, tempted her.
"Leave off, Keylan." She breathed, still trying to force her mind through the painful rejection of what was clearly before her. His chuckle was soft but belittling.
"Ah, I suppose that's what I always liked about you, sister." He went on with amusement. "Dedicated and stubborn to a fault." -his pause was long and heavy while it lasted- "Come now, Nymaya. I don't want to have to kill you. Malachive is willing to overlook your sins."
A spike of cold alarm raced down her spine and she turned slowly to gaze upon her half-brother. He looked emaciated, gray and hollow but there was power radiating around him. He held out his hand. "Come. Your purpose doesn't have to end here. Reklah awaits."
She never got a chance to answer as a second spike of crimson pain filled her head at the sound of his name. Her knees hit the ground as she bent over it, aware that something had changed. A series of pure demonic screams barreled into her maybe seconds after, enraged, and she felt herself ripped from the Border realm.
(cont.)
Stygian Descent (II)
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[ 89] Nymaya: Stygian Descent (II)
Sat Apr 3 00:52:32 2010
To: All Crelius Reklah ( story chain ) Imm Necrucifer RP Religion
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Nymaya"
The voice was deceptively friendly and it struck a nerve. Icy hatred and a ripple of pure dread washed over her. Confusion followed on its heels, cooling the previous rush of emotion and her eyes opened upon a surreal scene. A ghostly, azure-wrapped image of Verminasia spread out before her beneath an obsidian sky. She stood in a garden of translucent flowers, vibrant for all it lacked the purity of life.
...and across from her, face shrouded in shadows, stood the slight form of a dark elven Priestess.
Nymaya's hands fisted slowly as recognition took hold, the sound of her leather gloves stretching over knuckles gone white with a wash of ancient bitter rage, loud in the unnatural stillness. The figure smiled gently, calm and somber in the face of black vehemence.
"There is nothing to stop me from killing you this time." Nymaya whispered, her tone filled with all the animosity that she had once been incapable of channeling. She reveled in the rage as the distinct ring of her long, slender blade left its sheath followed shortly by the harsh, resonant grind of the darkened sword she carried across her back.
"That won't return your son to you. " She proclaimed and though a dismal aura permeated the Devionite, a slow, devious curve of her lips shone through the shadows.
Nymaya converged then upon the woman and, wrapped in icy, terrible conviction she drove her blades forward - only to have them clang off the solid presence of two opposing daggers.
"You will have to go through him to get to me." The Priestess intoned, as if they had been discussing pleasantries. "Will you kill your own son to sate your misplaced hatred?"
Nymaya stepped back at the goad, a swell of trepidation stilling the need to kill momentarily, and looked upon the face of a grown half elf. Her mind would have refused to believe it - if the unmistakable flames above his left brow had been anything but what they were.
"You...said he was still-born" She breathed in disbelief - needing to disbelieve.
"I lied."
A crystal peal of delighted laughter rang throughout the ghostly realm, stirring the azure mists. The half elven man continued to stand protectively before the Devionite. As solid as a highlander, as graceful as an elf of the Vallenwood.
And the sudden sound of a blade slamming home through flesh, muscle and bone shook the very fabric of the realm moments later. The half elf slumped, eyes wide as he stared at the woman who had birthed him but had never had a chance to know him.
Nymaya stared at the Priestess over the body, blood dripping off the tip of the blade that had impaled her son's heart, and felt an absolute nothing. Emptiness consumed the raw emotion, consumed her.
The dark elf grinned benignly as Nymaya tipped her blade down further to allow the body to slip off and watched without fear as the bloodied sword approached.
"You have earned the reward of your convictions." And her smile was beatific as the darkened blade arced up in an underhanded swing, cutting through the air with an audible sound. "But you will never escape what has been created in you, exile."
The blade struck the elf's neck then and tore through...mist. The world began to dissolve around her almost in the same instant and with the sound of many black wings beating the air, darkness took her.
[ 89] Nymaya: Stygian Descent (II)
Sat Apr 3 00:52:32 2010
To: All Crelius Reklah ( story chain ) Imm Necrucifer RP Religion
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Nymaya"
The voice was deceptively friendly and it struck a nerve. Icy hatred and a ripple of pure dread washed over her. Confusion followed on its heels, cooling the previous rush of emotion and her eyes opened upon a surreal scene. A ghostly, azure-wrapped image of Verminasia spread out before her beneath an obsidian sky. She stood in a garden of translucent flowers, vibrant for all it lacked the purity of life.
...and across from her, face shrouded in shadows, stood the slight form of a dark elven Priestess.
Nymaya's hands fisted slowly as recognition took hold, the sound of her leather gloves stretching over knuckles gone white with a wash of ancient bitter rage, loud in the unnatural stillness. The figure smiled gently, calm and somber in the face of black vehemence.
"There is nothing to stop me from killing you this time." Nymaya whispered, her tone filled with all the animosity that she had once been incapable of channeling. She reveled in the rage as the distinct ring of her long, slender blade left its sheath followed shortly by the harsh, resonant grind of the darkened sword she carried across her back.
"That won't return your son to you. " She proclaimed and though a dismal aura permeated the Devionite, a slow, devious curve of her lips shone through the shadows.
Nymaya converged then upon the woman and, wrapped in icy, terrible conviction she drove her blades forward - only to have them clang off the solid presence of two opposing daggers.
"You will have to go through him to get to me." The Priestess intoned, as if they had been discussing pleasantries. "Will you kill your own son to sate your misplaced hatred?"
Nymaya stepped back at the goad, a swell of trepidation stilling the need to kill momentarily, and looked upon the face of a grown half elf. Her mind would have refused to believe it - if the unmistakable flames above his left brow had been anything but what they were.
"You...said he was still-born" She breathed in disbelief - needing to disbelieve.
"I lied."
A crystal peal of delighted laughter rang throughout the ghostly realm, stirring the azure mists. The half elven man continued to stand protectively before the Devionite. As solid as a highlander, as graceful as an elf of the Vallenwood.
And the sudden sound of a blade slamming home through flesh, muscle and bone shook the very fabric of the realm moments later. The half elf slumped, eyes wide as he stared at the woman who had birthed him but had never had a chance to know him.
Nymaya stared at the Priestess over the body, blood dripping off the tip of the blade that had impaled her son's heart, and felt an absolute nothing. Emptiness consumed the raw emotion, consumed her.
The dark elf grinned benignly as Nymaya tipped her blade down further to allow the body to slip off and watched without fear as the bloodied sword approached.
"You have earned the reward of your convictions." And her smile was beatific as the darkened blade arced up in an underhanded swing, cutting through the air with an audible sound. "But you will never escape what has been created in you, exile."
The blade struck the elf's neck then and tore through...mist. The world began to dissolve around her almost in the same instant and with the sound of many black wings beating the air, darkness took her.
Stygian Descent (I)
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[ 81] Nymaya: Stygian Descent (I)
Fri Apr 2 13:58:46 2010
To: All Crelius Reklah ( story chain ) Imm Necrucifer RP Religion
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Looking down into the nearly viscous black of the yawning pit before her, she felt a calm descend. She had undergone the full gamut of unease, dread and shock while watching the venerable Shadowknight build up to this moment. Now, there was no more time for second guessing or fearful indecision.
She would be slain if she turned away, she would die if she failed any of the awaiting trials.
She had been trained mercilessly to face death, had already tasted it in various forms, and not a modicum of those experiences failed her now as she sent a silent but terribly fervent prayer to Necrucifer. But she was wise enough to know that little of what she had accomplished in life would do her much good down there.
Amber light, volcanic heat and the oppressive, latent malevolence of the chamber set heavily upon her as the decision solidified within her soul and she looked up to meet Crelius' weeping azure gaze through his hooded countenance.
He remained silent, wrapped in his forbidding power. He'd said all he needed to say.
The dream arose within her mind's eye as she reached back to pull her hood over her long silver hair and with it, a tainted essence so corrupt and devastating, she knew it could consume her.
Jump, elfling.
And, aware she managed a personally impressive display of will and faith, she dove over the edge of the void without hesitation...
...and fell.
---
All sense of time and direction left her.
The world she had known became no more, blasted into nothingness by the purity of the dark that swept past her in unfathomable leagues. It was so complete - so terribly complete...
She felt her displacement keenly, the sound of her cloak snapping behind almost as deafening as the black that breathed around her, as if she were plummeting down the throat of a monstrous entity. With the wind whistling past her ears, locking her in a static state, she became aware of a gleeful pulse of fiendish delight shortly before the Stygian deep converged upon her mind.
(cont.)
[ 81] Nymaya: Stygian Descent (I)
Fri Apr 2 13:58:46 2010
To: All Crelius Reklah ( story chain ) Imm Necrucifer RP Religion
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Looking down into the nearly viscous black of the yawning pit before her, she felt a calm descend. She had undergone the full gamut of unease, dread and shock while watching the venerable Shadowknight build up to this moment. Now, there was no more time for second guessing or fearful indecision.
She would be slain if she turned away, she would die if she failed any of the awaiting trials.
She had been trained mercilessly to face death, had already tasted it in various forms, and not a modicum of those experiences failed her now as she sent a silent but terribly fervent prayer to Necrucifer. But she was wise enough to know that little of what she had accomplished in life would do her much good down there.
Amber light, volcanic heat and the oppressive, latent malevolence of the chamber set heavily upon her as the decision solidified within her soul and she looked up to meet Crelius' weeping azure gaze through his hooded countenance.
He remained silent, wrapped in his forbidding power. He'd said all he needed to say.
The dream arose within her mind's eye as she reached back to pull her hood over her long silver hair and with it, a tainted essence so corrupt and devastating, she knew it could consume her.
Jump, elfling.
And, aware she managed a personally impressive display of will and faith, she dove over the edge of the void without hesitation...
...and fell.
---
All sense of time and direction left her.
The world she had known became no more, blasted into nothingness by the purity of the dark that swept past her in unfathomable leagues. It was so complete - so terribly complete...
She felt her displacement keenly, the sound of her cloak snapping behind almost as deafening as the black that breathed around her, as if she were plummeting down the throat of a monstrous entity. With the wind whistling past her ears, locking her in a static state, she became aware of a gleeful pulse of fiendish delight shortly before the Stygian deep converged upon her mind.
(cont.)
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