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Post by Robot on Mar 25, 2018 13:44:36 GMT
Salt marshes as far as the eye could see. Water so stagnant only the hardiest of life could survive it. A land where crops would not grow, and the earth itself bucked attempts to build upon it. This was Dreadmarsh. Attempts to colonize it, tame it, or find any use for the fetid place had been abandoned long ago. Nothing so difficult could possess even a kernel of value. That was what the humans had convinced themselves of in their constant scratching and clawing for every morsel of territory they could seize from one another. It sat abandoned. Forgotten.
Amidst the decay, the sparse Pokemon that hadn't made for more nurturing locales, and the sucking, all-consuming nature of the silt, sat a memory. It was a lone memory, held onto by a singular individual from a bygone age, but the castle stood. Worn, salt-washed stones, rent walls, shattered tiles, and rusted steel. It was as twisted, gnarled, and bent as the trees that clung to life around it. Figments stirred before a long empty throne that had long since been taken by crushing force, moss and insects.
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Post by masterblade007 on Mar 25, 2018 19:03:33 GMT
He had come from behind; the assassin that took Lootbox's life. Waited until the usurper was properly mourning his slain lieutenants and struck true. Little resistance was offered, either from shock or guilt. Or acceptance. To die with one's esteemed troops was a fitting end, and perhaps the most he could have deserved as King of Thieves.
...but that was not the end. For now Lootbox was here. Amidst someone else's ruins, in another's fallen throne.
Was this death's true nature? No, couldn't be. Not nearly hot enough for the depths of hell a lifetime of thievery had bought. This was different; cold, depressing, lost. The kind of ramshackle place that society's scraps might find themselves in. Though without his criminal kingdom, this might as well be home.
Three questions. Where, why, and who. Where was this, why was he here, and who were these other lost souls that shared in his confusion? Best to play it safe till one or more of those answers came to light. Lootbox would lie still as a corpse, hand by his trusty knife, in wait of another to move first.
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Post by Nocturne on Mar 25, 2018 19:39:57 GMT
The Duchess Ebonheart seemed to be the first to awaken. Rion groaned a little as she got up, hand instinctively covering her chest, where she had been stabbed. Surprised that she was alive somehow, she sat there for a moment, on the stone cold, dusty floor, before gathering herself. She floated up a little and dusted herself off, once again surprised she was still wearing her arcane helmet. She was quite fond of it, having had it hand crafted by an Imp artisan.
"Now what is going on here, I wonder. Did the elixir work after all..." She murmured to herself. She took in the throne room and the three other beings that she appeared to be sharing this broken down throne room with. There was quite a lack of dead bodies here. Where exactly was she?
Rion felt fairly secure in her ability to fight off one of these three beings if need be, but not if they ganged up on her, so she decided to be polite. "Are you awake? I have some questions that one of you may be able to answer." She doubted they could answer any questions, but at least the dialogue may distract them from trying to murder her. It could also make them focus her first, before deciding to fight each other, however, she was willing to take the risk, confident that she could flee if need be.
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Post by DataNinja on Mar 25, 2018 20:53:09 GMT
Her head. It hurts. Well, not just her head, she realizes as she regains consciousness, pretty much her entire body aches at least a little, down to her chitin. Which she had not thought to even be possible. But at least the aches and pains indicate that she's still alive. Somehow.
When Soren fell, and in the following moments, she had thought herself as good as dead. She's not quite sure what had happened, for the last thing that she remembers is getting impaled as she siphoned the energy of that... creature.
Moving for the first time, she reaches for the center of her chest... there doesn't seem to be a wound there, though it still all hurts tremendously. But she feels like she is whole. Slowly, she gains some awareness of her surroundings. She is still clutching her staff. She seems to be laying in some strange building, decrepit yet still with some hints of regality. But, more pressingly, she registers another creature stirring, rising.
At first, instinctively, she begins to reach out around with her mind... feeling the emptiness that means that her hive is no longer nearby, whether due to force or other means. But that is interrupted when the creature speaks. So, while it is clearly not a human, it communicates by language. She understands it, at least.
Slowly, still aching, she pushes herself up with two of her arms, the others brushing off her robe. A last gift. A memory. After her head stops swimming, she turns her attention towards the other being. "If they pertain to what you or I are doing here," she chitters at it, her voice comprehensible but also... wrong sounding to most listeners, "Then I know naught."
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Post by Bowyer on Mar 25, 2018 21:54:21 GMT
As the others began to speak, the large stony form stirs and then stands with the dull scraping of stone on stone. He stares into nothing as he spends a moment to collect himself. That Iwakashi was alive seemed to be in little doubt, he wasn't a tree after all. How that was possible was even more questionable. He'd felt the specter of death claim him....The mystery could wait.
"So none of us knows why we are here," He rumbles softly. That they both claimed to know nothing was troubling, it meant that someone was lying or there was some other force at work. The problems always seemed to pile up. "Neither of you know where we are either. Almost seems to be some cruel prank of the gods."
His gaze wanders upon the ruined throne, an almost familiar sight. "Seems like we're luckier than whoever owned this place."
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Post by masterblade007 on Mar 26, 2018 2:07:16 GMT
"You have an odd definition of luck." The large stony form stirs and then stands with the dull scraping of stone on... wait. There's a second one now!? Behind where the stone golem rose another now stood, eerily similar to the first in both looks and sound. "Abandoned in an unknown place with unknown people, for unknown reasons."
Suddenly, her stony body began to melt down. Size shrunk, rocks flattened into chitin plates, clinging moss threading itself into rough-spun robes. She now mirrored the appearance of the insect, save for staff. Moving towards her opposite, she spoke again. "I may not know the where or who, but I have a good hunch on the why. What do we have in common, besides being displaced?"
The robed figure suddenly shrunk into her clothing, robe covering her body completely. A second later it fell like a curtain, revealing a certain royal imp imp sitting atop a scaled-down copy of the chamber's throne. She adjusted her crown a bit, making sure it fit securely before addressing the others. "I wonder... let's have a small roll call. Who among us has had the gall to steal a god's power for themselves?"
Lootbox raised his hand, imp skin and throne melting away into pale slime of a humanoid shape. "I am the King of Thieves himself, Lord Lootbox. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" He looked towards the others eagerly; these didn't seem like ordinary bunch of prisoners.
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Post by Bowyer on Mar 26, 2018 4:06:05 GMT
Iwakashi turns to find...himself? What sorcery was this? And then the form warps into one of the others. A less astute observer might have missed his mouth stopped mid-question. They would have to be pretty much blind. He hadn't seen a slime actually transform before. But the strange creature did hit the nail on the head.
He wasn't going to raise his hand but he could at least answer the gentleman's question. "I am called Iwakashi. And call it gall if you will, but I too took on divine power out of necessity. At least, that was the plan." He pauses for a moment and speaks directly. "Your plan went awry too then."
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Post by DataNinja on Mar 26, 2018 5:02:00 GMT
Another being rose from its place on the ground, then another identical being... or so it seemed. She becomes skeptical when it seems to turn into her - though without the distinctive comfort of the hivemind - until it at last shifts into what she presumes is its true form, and addresses her and the others.
Gods... there was a vague knowledge of beings of great power amongst the hive, and she had learned something more of them from amongst the humans. They seem to have a god for everything. Life. Time. The sun. The sky. The sky when it is full of clouds. The sky when those clouds are causing a storm. The sky when those clouds are causing a storm over seas... There are an awful lot.
She had not quite considered the being that she had consumed a god. She knew it was of great power. She'd feltthat taking that power for herself would change a balance. Would shift the world. She knew what she was doing. Yet, she did it anyways. It was her power to take. Her place to usurp, much as she did to the hive. So, while she does not recognize the being that she had snuffed out as any god in the tales that she has heard... that feels like as good of an appellation as any. Not that she's likely heard all of the stories, because humans have far too many. But... she likes the thought of that.
"'Steal' feels far too underhanded," Crimson says to the slime, trying to articulate her thoughts into language. "I grasped it, wrung it from its dying body. But it is mine now all the same. As for my name?" Even after so long, the concept feels... unwieldy to her. "You may address me as Crimson."
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Post by Nocturne on Mar 26, 2018 14:47:11 GMT
Rion raised an eyebrow. This Lootbox fellow was quite entertaining. He reminded her of Calypso, of her former Vanguard. A mischievous Zoroark, she had loved transforming into other members of the Vanguard in order to confuse her enemies. She had never dared to take Rion's form without permission of course. From what she could discern, Lootbox' transformation was more than mere illusion, but she couldn't be certain of that.
Containing her amusement, Rion answered the 'King of Thieves'. "I am Rion Ebonheart, and yes, if you wish to put it that way, I stole a god's power for myself. It was... quite the heist, in fact."
It was Rion's finest plan, in her opinion. It had taken ten years of demonization of Yveltal, beginning with simple rumours and tales of misdeeds. Rion had used all the influence she had amassed and eventually worked the populace of Ransei into a frenzy, with phrases and chants like 'Death to Death' becoming common. In the end, she had lured the god himself into a trap, a large scale battle he couldn't avoid or escape from. The battle was never intended to kill Yveltal, no, the people of Ransei would never kill a god, instead he was sealed away by the power of a number of Ransei's most powerful mages. Little did most of Ransei know that the schematics for that ritual had been provided by Rion, who despite her exile had been known as a powerful and well-read mage. It was almost child's play, killing the weakened god and then reaping the true reward; Yveltal's divine ichor and soul. Rion's eyes threatened to glaze as she thought of the power she would have had, once the ritual was completed. This thought sobered her, as she remembered why her plans didn't come into fruition.
Ah, Hadrian, you fool... I could have remade Ransei, turned it into a place greater than any other. A place for us and our children to rule.
Rion's thoughts didn't show on her face as she beheld the other apparent god-slayers. How was it possible that she had never heard of them?
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Post by Robot on Mar 26, 2018 15:22:17 GMT
"Ah good, you've met." Came a weathered, aged voice from the base of the dais where the four had begun to recover themselves. "Since we have already had this conversation, and I do so tire of the repetitive, I will answer your questions and then take my leave of you." A crone, stooped and withered, with eyes that were ageless braced on a knotted cane in robes equally tattered and rotted. Through gaps in the cloth, old wounds, or new skin, each viewer and each glance it seemed to change as though in an endless cycle.
"I am Othna, and you are They. They Who Are No Longer Mortal But Not Yet Gods. Plucked each of you from a space in time where you'd have lain dormant forever, and brought you here. Divinity, for all it's power is such a fickle thing when tampered with." She cackled and spat, the rattle of a tooth along wood accompanying the sound. "You are here to do as you see fit, with the knowledge of each other. My only role was to usher you in."
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Post by masterblade007 on Mar 26, 2018 16:09:28 GMT
Oho! So his suspicions were correct! Here was a court of blasphemers, gathered from their due punishment for... reasons. And of such prestige; what a wonderful development! "Rion? As in the once-duchess of Spectra? Blimey, think I stole your signet ring in my early days..."
"..."
"...I'm not giving it back." Never-mind that; seems other bushiness is in play. Such as this old bat of a hag who was already proving particularly helpful. "A fan of my work? Delightful! Why don't you start with 'where' and... I guess 'when' we are. Get our bearings straight as to the state of things." Or, more precisely, how long he'd been out of commission. Was his kingdom of crime but dust in the wind? You can't leave thieves alone for too long, else they get... creative.
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Post by DataNinja on Mar 26, 2018 18:00:12 GMT
Taking note of the new figure, and of its pronouncements, Crimson finds herself... pondering. Out of time? And apparently all of these others have done something similar to her. Clearly the being before her has some measure of power itself if it was able to take others from their own times. To... whenever this is.
The slime did bring up some good questions, though. Amongst those that she would have asked... but not the most important one. It obviously did not bring them here out of the goodness of its heart. "Why?" she asks, "Why did you bring us here? What is it that you want out of this?"
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Post by Bowyer on Mar 26, 2018 19:51:32 GMT
Would people stop showing up out of thin air! Iwakashi's irritation was starting to show. The tale that the old bat spun seemed difficult to swallow. But it would explain how he and the others had gotten here. She hardly looked capable but something in the shifting of her skin spoke of hidden potential.
The slime and insect dredged up their own questions first. They were good questions. Iwakashi was likewise incredulous that this woman would pull them here if she didn't have some sort of motive. As far as he knew, she owed him nothing. "To do as we see fit?" He laughs with a sharp crack. "If you chose to bring me here, you already know the result. You don't bring a sword to mine the earth."
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Post by Robot on Mar 26, 2018 20:07:55 GMT
"Some short years, young 'Lootbox'." Othna smiled fetidly and clasped her hands in front of herself. "Not so long as to deny passions and vengeance, but not so soon as to catch your burgeoning empire as it sloughed away into the shadows. As to where and why." These words were accompanied by a breathy drawl to their 'h' sound, the rasping sort of wheeze a dying person might emit in an attempt at speech. "This kingdom, the eighteenth, became a dark and buried secret long before your time. You know it now as the Dreadmarsh. What better beginning for thieves, assassins, and the unyielding then here?"
Turning to Crimson, there was a feral glint in those eyes that lacked the dullness of senility. "Entertainment." Was all she did offer at first. "You cannot know what it is to have lived forever, no. Not to live for all time, but to have lived at all time. She rambled madly. "With just a little tampering, as I am doing now... maybe something will pique my interest for a time."
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Post by DataNinja on Mar 27, 2018 3:48:55 GMT
She was correct, it seems. This being is certainly more than it seems. Living at all times? She is somewhat skeptical that such a thing could really be possible. But that is quickly sloughed away by rage. Entertainment? She is no plaything, to dance at the whims of another. She had to pretend to do that for far, far too long during her formative years. Never again would she do that!
But... she did not get so far in life without copious amounts of self-preservation. She knows that a being that can do this is likely far beyond her current skill. She still aches all over, and is thankful she has her staff to still lean on a little bit. "So," she asks, with as much skepticism as her insectoid tone can express, "You simply want us to 'entertain' you with antics? And that is it? I highly doubt that. Besides... if you have lived at all times, would you not know how this all turns out?"
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Post by masterblade007 on Mar 27, 2018 10:37:42 GMT
"A game of chess might have the same setup, but only the same outcome if all pieces are played the same every time." Lootbox commented.
Too soon yet too late... that was the most disheartening and least helpful answer he could have expected. It mattered not; that old empire was built by his own hands once before. It wouldn't be too difficult to prop it up again. Especially with three sudden allies in power and misfortune, trustable in shared strength and misery. Questing for godhood alone was a mistake; no one to cover your back properly. And now he had three good sets of eyes to cover those blind spots.
"You speak as though this is not the first time we've been your 'entertainment'. How many beginnings have we had?" Lootbox pondered the question a moment, and its potential ramifications. "On second thought, I don't want to know. But I accept your game, time witch. I've some business with a few traitors who slew me and my most loyal lieutenants. And since I can no longer lead my men through the pits of hell, the least I can offer is to send their killers down that road in my place."
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Post by Nocturne on Mar 28, 2018 1:41:49 GMT
"So you're the one who-" Rion's eyes gained a ferocious gleam, which calmed after a second as she composed herself. It wasn't as if this still mattered after all. Eyeing Lootbox, Rion considered that this shapeshifter would make both a formidable ally and a formidable enemy. Rion was pulled out of her thoughts by the arrival of a strange old crone. No longer mortal and yet not gods? This was a long way to describe both failure and potential. Rion was a realist, she wasn't going to forget the fact that she had failed once. It seemed she was going to get a second chance however, and this prospect excited her, though she wasn't sure what to make of the idea that she'd already had many second chances.
Her mood soured when she and the other would-be gods were described as entertainment. Was this how it felt to dance on the strings of a puppet master? If so, Rion much preferred to be the master, than the puppet. Rion didn't bother getting annoyed, from the sounds of it, this old woman was quite a deal more powerful than her, which only increased Rion's hunger for power of her own. Like Crimson apparently, she wasn't quite convinced that there were no strings attached, but she was more interested in her freedom to act. "Is there a downside to us having been pulled from wherever it was? Some kind of restriction placed upon us?"
Rion's mind worked full time, thinking of how to best garner advantage on this new playing field, but she simply didn't have enough information. "Also, are we the only ones to have been revived in this manner?" Knowing whether there were any enemies to watch out for specifically would help at least. She wouldn't put it past this crone to add more players to her little game. Whether she did or not however, to win this game, Rion needed allies. Her last attempt had proven that acting alone was a mistake. Having allies to support her in the shadows would be invaluable.
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Post by Bowyer on Mar 28, 2018 4:33:12 GMT
At least the crone seemed to be honest with them. Even though Iwakashi had been struggling to hold onto the empire, the writing was on the wall. It would have crumbled quickly enough, quicker without him there. Perhaps they had stumbled on even more luck. The Dreadmarsh wasn't too far from Cragspur. Surely some of his Earthenborn followers were still alive. Or Tachibana....Iwakashi's fists scrape together. Some things needed to be made clear.
His anger smoulders as the woman continues to babble on about bringing them back for entertainment. While the others seemed to find it distasteful, Iwakashi was indifferent. Blood sports were nothing new. It seemed only natural to raise the stakes for a being who had to be a god herself.
Rion's concerns were....relevant. Knowing what they would be up against would be relevant strategically. That didn't change his opinion of the matter though. "Little could stop us before. What hope could there be now?" He spoke of 'us' but the implication for 'I' was there. This 'we' business wasn't sitting well with him just yet.
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Post by Robot on Mar 28, 2018 11:28:01 GMT
"It is as Lootbox suggests. In this game of conquest, I've chosen to field four pieces. In your respective failures you have gained both a boon, and a crippling weakness. Ill possessed of your respective divinities, pieces of your true selves lay scattered about these lands. The divine spark taken in by Pokemon, or other beings with the will to truly bring it to bear." Othna took to pacing slowly before their assembly.
"Time is as a river, the possible branching into tributaries that spread through the veins of existence. The Probable forms pools, and lakes to which many of these courses arrive. The inevitable is the ocean, it is the place where all times lead. Today, you show me the impossible. What and where it means to go beyond it all."
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Post by masterblade007 on Mar 28, 2018 12:46:27 GMT
"You didn't answer the duchy's question." Lootbox pointed out, grinning as he did so. "It's safe to assume whatever is most interesting will happen. Why play the same game twice, after all? Although it IS rather concerning how potentially stacked the odds are against us. Which leads me to a small request."
Lootbox reached into his cloak, pulling out a particularly shiny gemstone the size of a plum. Its facets were cut into 20 sides, each marked with a different number. Crystal clear, free of impurities, and perfectly weighted.
This he offered in outstretched arm to Othana. "We've probably already done this before, but just for the sake of it. Roll this die for me; once for each of us divines. That should make things more interesting, guaranteed!"
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