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Neon Knights

Neon Knights

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Guy Treviel's Secret Journal

I dunno where to start, my sanity isn't the best as of now.. Firstly I died..Then didn't die? Apparently Connor sold my soul to the Judge..Even more of a reason to kill that vyre. I heard screams outside, woke me up almost immediatly. It must** been my brother, dunno what he did to agitate anyone... I don't even know how I am staying awake to write this, my head aches along with what ever the hell is going on in my chest... I can feel a fine line between the light and darkness already forming...

21-Apr-2016 17:13:27 - Last edited on 21-Apr-2016 17:14:00 by Neon Knights

Last Deterro
Nov Member 2013

Last Deterro

Posts: 512 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
URGENT MISSION : Doomsday - Phase 1


"This might be the end of the world. Call in all favors you can."

It's time. It's finally time.

With Vanescul*a's army readying itself, the myreque must act. The myreque's been split into several different groups, and they have three goals, overall.

1. Acquire blisterwood enough to arm up the Misthalin army

2. Kill the Judge and steal his resources

3. Use Judge's resources (network of contacts, influence, prae*icators, etc) to wreak havoc on the Vampyric nation and stop their army before they cross the salve

They will split into different groups for each separate stage to have tasks preformed at peak efficiency. Each group, and their goals, is listed below for Phase 1.

Guy

...recover, ya dimwit, we need you for this mission!

Connor, Athena and Proteus

These three have been tasked with heading back to Meiyerditch to recover the amulet which can teleport them to the arboretum, as well as the focus made by Proteus which allows groups to teleport.

Elzbeth and Gwendolyn

These two have been tasked with obtaining bloodmarked vyre uniforms for the assassination, as well as trying to gather ingredients for a sleeping potion, to help them gather blisterwood quickly.

Calsidiu and Kalligan

These two have been tasked with heading to Paterdomus, and helping to prepare the military there. Likewise, they are tasked with trying to find a teleport directly to Paterdomus, so huge amounts of blisterwood can be shipped off to Paterdomus at once.

REQUIREMENTS

Skills: Everything you're learned

Items Needed: Everything we've got

Reward: The world's safety, and The Judge's head mounted on the Myreque Base wall
Thoughtcrime doesn't entail death. Thoughtcrime IS death.

23-Apr-2016 03:50:18 - Last edited on 23-Apr-2016 03:51:12 by Last Deterro

Last Deterro
Nov Member 2013

Last Deterro

Posts: 512 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The anniversary of the slaughter in Mort'ton, the people of Burgh' De Rott held a memorial.

They came from above, from the murky fog that blankets Morytania. In seconds, people were screaming. The vampyres were there, hunting them. Toying with them. The vampyres didn't strike to kill, at first. Strikes to the legs, the arms, crippling and maiming, but not killing...not killing many, at least.

Then the second wave came, vampyres with barrels full of stinking, gloopy oil, taking their time coating the shabby buildings in the stuff while the vampyres below poked and prodded the maimed and the injured. Only once their liege arrived, eight more in his stead, did they light up the oil. The flames gorged away at the reconstructed buildings, the fixed-up shops and banks, and anything, or anyone, who'd been inside.

Those who remained were herded like cattle to the town square, where a red-eyed, black-robed figure stood, watching over it all. Fingers whiter than chalk, and the rest of his body wrapped up in darkness. The eight who had arrived with him all carried wooden crosses over their shoulders, shaped like the star of Saradomin.

Seven of the stars were spread across the town square, facing towards the well, the eight being placed flat against the well, facing the game. The seven strongest-looking men were dragged up from the crowd, crucified, and stripped of their very flesh infront of the helpless crowd. Only once the Vyrelord had finished indulging in the gruesome act did he speak.

"
This is a reminder to you, cattle! Your overseers, your true overseers, tire of your hopes of free-will and your notions of "equality"! Learn from the mistakes of those who sought to help you, the "Myreque"! They lie dead at your feet, their "base" in ruins, as it should be! All who aid Morytania "equality" deserve nothing more than death! As for you, I am merciful! I will not execute cattle at the first lapse!
Thoughtcrime doesn't entail death. Thoughtcrime IS death.

27-Jul-2016 08:40:50 - Last edited on 27-Jul-2016 08:59:58 by Last Deterro

Last Deterro
Nov Member 2013

Last Deterro

Posts: 512 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
But your behavior shall NOT BE TOLERATED ANY LONGER! You are nothing but cattle, playthings, and the sooner you realize this, the sooner you stop consorting with those who force us to tip our hand, the sooner you will truly understand the meaning of your miserable, sub-vampyric lives!

Spread the word, let your fellow cattle know that they will be forced back down into their place! ANY CONSPIRATORS WILL BE KILLED! SLOWLY !
"

The man's speech finished, he waved a vampyre from behind him to follow along, the vampyre following, with a limp body held in his arms, skin as pale as snow. It was of little significance to the townsfolk as this seeming corpse, unflayed, was nailed to the crucifix at the well. It didn't matter that the townsfolk had no idea who it was. It was a message to be sent. A reminder. To further the point, a broken lyre was tossed into the well, behind the crucified, blond-haired Wyrd.

With that, townsfolk beaten, maimed, wounded and hurt, the Vampyres left as soon as they had arrived. It hadn't even been half an hour, but the survivors of meiyerditch, the citizens of Burgh De Rott would remember this for months, years...

...nobody knew it, not even the red-eyed one, but the Wyrd's heart beat. Slowly. His body appeared dead, but his mind was slowly rousing, as was his body. Head firmly attached to his shoulders, his heart still beat, and with every beat, it pumped the venomous influence of his red-eyed captor from his body, finally to awake with a whisper from the nightmare he'd been stuck in staying with him into the waking world.

"Wake up, Treviel. Wake up and smell the ashes."
Thoughtcrime doesn't entail death. Thoughtcrime IS death.

27-Jul-2016 08:56:41 - Last edited on 27-Jul-2016 08:57:20 by Last Deterro

Last Deterro
Nov Member 2013

Last Deterro

Posts: 512 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Last Deterro said :

Lieutenant's Log
Essianday, Moevyng 25th, 5A 169

My mind still reels. I can still see Verdita's face every time I close my eyes, worry, bleeding through to agony, before Drakan took him. I can still see the Hunter pinning me down. I should have died. Why didn't I die?

My hand's finally stopped shaking enough to write, and I feel like I can't go on without a vent. Something, anything...and since trust gets you killed, I'll turn to parchment. Whoever finds this, you're likely a closely trusted friend, or a filthy Vyre who's torn me to pieces. But under the assumption you're neither, under the assumption you're some random straggler who found this? My name is Connor De'terro, one of the two last De'terros to my knowledge. Privateer, smith, myreque, survivor

I was one of the many who went along to castle Drakan. We were all excited, hopeful! It was our chance to finally make a difference. We'd done little before then. The bombing of the Vaeyls, the assassination of Vanstrom. This was our one true chance to make a difference, to strike at the heart of everything. Drakan, finally returning after so long. ...if only we knew.

Safalaan, leader of the cell over at Meiyerditch....I'd have once considered him a friend. But something changed in him once he started to tamper with his heritage. Idiot. I learned the hard way never to do something like that. But he got too....selfish, too caught up in the moment. And he was our damned leader, we had to follow his orders! Trusting a Vampyre, Drakan's SISTER no less! Under the foolish assumption that she wasn't misleading us, that she wasn't waiting to stab us in the back, we followed her lead.

We disguised ourselves, readied our weapons and infiltrated the party gathering atop castle Drakan. The view, at least, was impressive, a tower so tall you could see from above the thick layer of fog over Morytania.

[Page 1 of 5]
Thoughtcrime doesn't entail death. Thoughtcrime IS death.

05-Mar-2017 10:47:51 - Last edited on 09-Mar-2017 12:05:11 by Last Deterro

Last Deterro
Nov Member 2013

Last Deterro

Posts: 512 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Last Deterro said :

Lieutenant's Log
Essianday, Moevyng 25th, 5A 169

The gathering was tense, there was little doubt of it. Myreque scattered across the place, blisterwood writhing under our robes, waiting for the order, waiting to strike. Before the assault, the "hero" had been given command of the situation. They decided whether to attack or fall back. When Drakan let slip the whole thing was a trap, when our assassination was clearly bound to fail, the hero called for us to "hang up the sickle", to retreat while we could. Safalaan, you idiot, why'd you have to try otherwise?

In the middle of a scenario like that, Safalaan doomed us. He called for us to assault Drakan regardless. Confusing and dividing the troops in the middle of a critical moment is what lead to our capture. That, and some accursed blast of uncontrolled icyenic energy that did nothing but knock everyone around Drakan unconcious.

What followed was hell. If hell exists, that was it. Blood-red sky, bleeding and drained as we progressed, hunted by nightmares . We trained for fighting vampyres. Perhaps even a tough vampyre like Drakan himself. But the Hunters, the vampyric beasts?! We were hopelessly outmatched. Lambs to the slaughter. Drakan forced us to bleed so he could have our scent as we scurried like rats in a maze, our deaths inevitable.

Eventually, we reached the summit of the castle, and we found ourselves in the hell that is Vampyrium, looking over a world that sat under a blood red sky. And it was there that Drakan stopped toying with his "food" and the real fight began. He set two of those monsters upon us. They'd slaughtered almost the whole team, but...this time, those things fought to the death. One of them got the drop on me. A little dodgy footwork and it had me pinned, goring and slashing at me. The agony was...indescribable. And I don't care to try and recall it.

[Page 2 of 5]
Thoughtcrime doesn't entail death. Thoughtcrime IS death.

05-Mar-2017 11:08:52 - Last edited on 09-Mar-2017 12:05:36 by Last Deterro

Last Deterro
Nov Member 2013

Last Deterro

Posts: 512 Steel Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Last Deterro said :

Lieutenant's Log
Essianday, Moevyng 25th, 5A 169

The only thing that saved me was the heavy steel armour I was wearing. Me and Andiess both preferred leather over anything else. Flexible, useful equipment. But we had some steel plate left over which I'd been working on, and since the order going around was "wear whatever you can under the disguise", I decided to take it. It saved me, but....I was crippled, barely alive. Barely even concious. I think the only thing that helped me pull through was adrenaline. That, and Ivan's prayers. I'm hardly religious at this point, but that boy had energy he was passing on to the rest of the group.

In mangled armour, I fought on. We had Drakan on the back foot, we were winning! I'd had to move back, start hurling blisterwood stakes at him...but one of his attacks glanced me, some kind of blood spell. He'd been focusing on the Hero, and when it came towards me...I was caught off-guard. I cried out, falling to a knee, barely alive. I looked up to see Verdita, second-in-command of the Sanguinesti cell, rushing to my aid.

...and in the moment that he did, I knew I'd doomed us all. He turned his back on Drakan. And Drakan, weakened, turned to mist...and swiftly killed the distracted Verdita. My friend. Our leader. He died because he tried to save me .

Worse yet, Drakan drew strength from his kill, fighting us on through the most fatiguing battle I've ever been pushed through. All of that because of me. Had I never worn that armour, I'd have been killed on the spot, and Verdita would be here now, writing. Perhaps, had Verdita survived, Veliaf wouldn't have disbanded the group. Maybe's and what-if's are all I have, though.

Eventually, after a painfully gruelling battle, Drakan was slain. But even as he died, I felt a cold chill wash over me, as if even in death, he cursed me. Cursed us all.

[Page 3 of 5]
Thoughtcrime doesn't entail death. Thoughtcrime IS death.

05-Mar-2017 11:21:03 - Last edited on 09-Mar-2017 12:06:11 by Last Deterro

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