RuneScape Forum Archive | [RP] Into The Fire

Venom1383

Posts: 4,159 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Zed

It seemed that Rovaan had one more trick up his sleeve. Zed hoped it would be enough. It had to be. Their demonic powerhouse was their only chance.

As a direfox charged at him, Zed waved his staff and conjured a blast of wind to blow away the snarling beast, launching it into two hagspawn and sending the three foes sprawling.

Rovaan needed a shield. Fortunately, that was something Zed specialized in. He slammed the bottom of his staff into the ground. Both the jewel and the shaft shimmered blue as a dome of magical energy began to rise around him and Rovaan. This was the sturdiest one he had conjured so far. The Hagspawn would be hard pressed to breach it, but he had to hope that the hags themselves would be too distracted, for they could surely break through with their magic. Ramsay Bolton is the king we deserve.

27-Jul-2016 03:29:47

NotFishing

Posts: 16,946 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Alicia Vendal

Upon leaving Og, the entire situation just didn't sit right with Alicia.

By all rights, she had bitten off more than she could chew, and had no reason to be here. She was not wrong. But it also felt like she was running away.

Granted, she had run away from many things, but this just felt... wrong somehow. Why was this different? Was it because there were lives at stake other than her own? She thought of her foolish youthful desire to be a hero, and how quickly she had learned to dismiss that as fantasy. No, it had to be because she didn't want to leave empty-handed, right? At the same time, it would be pretty humiliating to suddenly turn back and change her mind after expressing a desire to leave.

That was why, instead of heading south, she retraced her steps and made her way back to the Encampment of the Empire. She didn't know if they would still be there, but she could probably use her tracking skills to catch up and see if there was more fighting to be done. The Decan had promised a reward, hadn't she?

If not, then at least she wouldn't journey back alone. Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.

01-Aug-2016 22:01:57

Laser Gunk

Posts: 3,302 Adamant Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Captain Ryle watched the dwarf roam about the field, prodding bodies with his polearm with disdain. Other than the soft tap of steel on flesh, and the growl of mountain cats disturbed from their meals, who trotted unhappily away, this place was silent.

It was eerie and unnatural. Ryle turned his eyes upwards. The sky was almost cloudless, the sun was hot, and the air was stagnant, but his sagging face and armour seemed to barely soak up the heat.

"Sum abominashun, messmate." Ryle explained to Karstone like he was a halfwit. Having made his living on the high seas, and as a cut-throat adventurer for hire, the man was used to prospects of otherworldly, leviathan beasts and difficulties. "May'ap wot the source o' this bovver wi' the Ogres. Or wot the same folk 'oo turned them, 'a grafted together 'ere. May'ap - the Ogres were fightin' it. Enny case, 'tain't wot yer wanner 'ave roun' fer drinks."

He looked down into the gaping maw.

"Ain't compare ter yer ole mum's ole, tho."

He slapped his thigh and guffawed.

"So, we gonna pay the ole elves a visit, an' slaughter 'em or summat?" He asked curiously, when he was done laughing. 'Oo are ya

02-Aug-2016 19:11:49

Loaned Shark

Posts: 9,313 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Sir Charles.

For a moment, Charles misheard the ogre, and almost leaped across the room in an attempt to strangle the warlock to death with his bare hands. It was only after his self-preservation instinct forced him to sit very still and think about what he had been told that he realised No; Gorgon hadn't been saying that Charles had killed everything in Capital City. It was just a fancy way, for an ogre, of saying that he had won.

So Gorgon was horribly, horribly misinformed, it wasn't as if that was a new situation. Still, no need to bring him up to speed on that...

The Gorgon's words answered exactly none of Charles' concerns, but he had a feeling that this was the best he was going to get out of this simpleton. That left him surrounded by presumably-enemies, facing an unknown threat that had the first lot scared witless, with no actual allies, information or effective weapons. Set up to fail in every possible way, and - and he now realised he didn't give a damn what it tried to say - the buzzard there to make sure of it.

And he'd been here before.

He drew himself up ramrod straight, a tingling in his chest. His hands snapped up to his throat, undoing the knot which held his threadbare cloak on and casting the worn garment aside with a blossoming, manic grin. "Hell with it," he snarled, "Let's kill the beast!" This time, he swore, he'd do it properly. And if the buzzard was having him on about anything, he'd eat that feathered traitor before he died, and cross over happy.

He snapped about, holding out his hand towards the trio who had dragged him here, not giving a damn about the blood in his palm. "Give me my sword," he ordered, "Then go, and find me maps. Ogrin, Og, everything in between and everything around the both of them, the more detailed the better. We're looking for landmarks, defensible terrain and easy traveling paths." All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

07-Aug-2016 02:59:53

Loaned Shark

Posts: 9,313 Rune Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Hand still outstretched, he looked back - now over his shoulder - to the King of the Ogrin. "You won't like this," he promised, "But I need a way to contact Og. We need as much firepower as we can get our hands on, things like this don't die unless you throw everything at them. And if it doesn't die, WE do." Even without having seen the thing for himself, or actually knowing what he was up against for that matter, Charles' voice rang with cast-iron conviction. The ogre's manifest terror had settled the matter as far as he cared.

More importantly, Og could offer a place to retreat to. The last thing Charles wanted to do was demand an evacuation of Ogrin - the thing had apparently been picking off ogres, a civilian rout would look like a smorgasbord - but if it went as horribly as everything did these days, he needed to make sure they had a place they could actually regroup at. Worst came to worst, at least Og might hear of Charles' last stand, and Karstone might be able to take the details of Charles' horrible demise and piece together a way to stop it happening again.

Spirry's disjointed words, part of a memory he was hoping to repress before he died, came back to him, and he nodded to himself. "We need anyone who survived this 'forgotten beast' to get in here. Anyone who's seen tracks, shadows, anything. If it's got eight legs, I've already met its prophet, and that thing's bad enough." And the demon had claimed this thing, this rising horror, had the power to kill gods... "The sooner we figure out what it is, the sooner we'll know how to really hurt it."

He swallowed, and grit his teeth for the last push. "And last, I need to talk to whoever stuck that tornado in the sky. If we don't come up with a better plan," he shrugged, "I want to drop that fucker on the beast's head to start off with. I've seen fires that don't burn out, what else can your people do?" All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

07-Aug-2016 03:00:25

D F Angel

Posts: 19,587 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

The Hagfather Cometh

The golden gleam of the magically charged bonfire brought heavenly light to the blighted coven, whose dark halls had not seen the light of day for aeons, its leaved canopy interwoven with the nests and walkways of the arachnoids the hags raised as cattle. The spiders were screaming now, a hissing, clicking, completely inhuman sound. Beasts of darkness, they could not stand the light and were now scattering to the four winds. Tempora Sage, who had been on the verge of being overrun, collapsed against a tree, so exhausted and so ancient that he was easily mistaken for a corpse.

The mystical flame was nearly stagnant, but plumed pure-red smoke with every thrum, every beat of the earth, as the mythical goliath that the hags aimed to summon approached. At the epicentre of the fray was the Great Mother, who had fallen back into her throne of skulls, perched like a despotic emperor at the helm of her villainy. "Yeess.... Come... Come to me!" She called out, her leathery lips barely parting, but her whispery tone echoing like booming thunder through magical enhancement.

Her children, the hags that lead this coven, were in a state of disarray. The most difficult part of the ritual was the summoning of the Hagfather- but they knew that the Father was not liable to breed with the most powerful, only the most forthcoming. They stood now, casting glances side to side, considering their options. Whether they should rise against their mother, or betray their sisters, or if their own sisters plotted betrayal against them. In the end they came to the same conclusion- it was too late for any of that. They were under attack from all sides; they could not usurp their mother under these conditions, risking their own lives whilst their backs were turned.

It was through this confusion, triggered by anticipation and aided by deceit, that Joric Ironfist swarmed through the enclosure, unhindered by the hags or their kin. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

16-Feb-2017 04:32:49

D F Angel

Posts: 19,587 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

He came up the small mound upon which the throne of skulls sat, and atop it the Great Mother, looking criminally in the other direction for her summoned suitor, swinging his axe outwards-

Only to have a scimitar catch it, the collision ringing through the hallowed pit.

It was one of the hagspawn, the very same which had stood vigil at the Great Mother's side, had obediently summoned the spiders and had allowed Skullvulture to kill the Great Mother's firstborn. She was the youngest of the Great Mother's brood, perhaps sixteen years of age. Her skin was a strange, ashen grey hue, her irises were yellow, and now that her hood had fallen in her rush to save her mother, it was revealed that the fallow deer antlers atop her head were no helm at all, but quite literally sprouting from her skull.

"Why have you come to kill us?" She yelled at the dwarf, her voice equal parts fear and anger.

The Great Mother turned to her daughter, saw her engaged in combat and rolled her pitch-black eyes, seeing her servant preoccupied. Waving a lazy hand she performed the task she was about to delegate to her daughter- apparently unfazed of the attacker standing two feet away from her. The lock of one of the great, wooden halls in the coven shattered, and the doors swung open.

It was a calculated act, as this was a calculated event. When a Hagfather inseminated a hag, it was more a transference of energy than of fluid, and so a single mating would allow a hag to produce trueborn children for years to come, each weaker than the last. The Great Mother's last trueborn child had been so pitiful, she knew she would become the first hag in history to have ever successfully mated with the Hagfather on more than one occasion. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

16-Feb-2017 04:33:04

D F Angel

Posts: 19,587 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

But the Great Mother knew that to achieve this, she would have to orchestrate a confluence of events to assure her victory. Before she had been known as the Great Mother, before she had infested Myrkviðr with the evil it was known for today, she had been a simple hag by name of Grimhilde. She remembered well how much she hated her own mother Dochia, how she plotted her downfall, how she arranged for the murder of her own sisters and usurped the entire coven for herself.

And so she knew how quick her own children would be to claim their presumed rights. As Hagmother she spent much time in solitude, carving the deepest reaches of magic for sinister purposes. And it had been so long since the Great Mother had given birth to hagspawn, no one suspected she would ever consider raising one again. Her final daughter had been brought up in secret, and when the Great Mother knew her power was at its zenith, she sent her daughter out into the lands of man, to spread rumour of the hags of Myrkviðr and a ritual they were undergoing.

And so the adventurers had come, as she knew they would. She had drawn her defences close, under the guise of protection, though truly it was to lure in her enemies. During the summoning she was at her weakest, and so she needed a distraction. The adventurers provided that, but she did not desire her daughters dead- subservient, obedient, but certainly not dead. And so, as with the hagspawn and the direfoxes and the arachnids, the Great Mother released her final blight of the forest.

They came out in a frenzied pack, screeching abominably, at once a woman in distress and a bird of prey sighting its meal. They once were the nymphs that flourished in this ancient woodland, though their trees and rivers and flowerbeds had long ago been polluted, and their minds, bodies and souls perverted to the whims of the hags. Their beauty was scorned by the skeletal appearance they now adopted, and spines erupted from their skin, ending in black feathers. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

16-Feb-2017 04:33:24

D F Angel

Posts: 19,587 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

Their hands had turned to claws, many times larger than they should be, and their snarled faces were half-morphed into beaks, though not quite. Though nymphs were bound to the nature they were born into, these mutants that the hags had made were long ago severed from this limitation, and served now as their elite guard dogs, furious and unrelenting, turning the anger, the pain, the hatred from their foul torture into outrage at outsiders, unleashing decades of mistreatment on the enemies of the hags. The hags named them Erinys, but the layman simply called them Furies.

Their deafening calls rang out as they ran out, searching for the largest body of prey and spotting, naturally, the herd of slaves that Annie had freed. Setting their sights upon this group they charged out in earnest, ready to slay, to feast on their flesh, to kill them all.

From the throes of battle emerged Etheldredda, her armour drenched in blood and showered in gore. She had lost her mace but had picked up a spear instead, and rallied to the side of Conleth- who had been left startlingly in the clear with the retreat of the mutant arachnids. She sighted Annie being swarmed, Joric locked in battle at the foot of the hagmother's throne, Zed shielding the transformed Rovaan whilst direfoxes flirted around the magical borders. And still, there was the thrum, thrum, thrum, in the distance, the signalling of the approach of their fabled foe.

"We put out the bonfire," Etheldredda decided, indicating towards it with her spear as though Conleth might have missed the beacon of golden magelight which fumed in the centre of the coven. "We put it out, and maybe we can-"

She jumped and tackled Conleth to the ground as the aurum flames turned into a funnel and shot out over their heads, a horizontal typhoon fleeing through the night into the depths of the forest. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

16-Feb-2017 04:33:42

D F Angel

Posts: 19,587 Opal Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile

It took Etheldredda some moments, (laid atop Conleth's body,) to understand what she was seeing. The fire was not fleeing- it was being sucked away, absorbed, feasted upon. Something was coming through the forest, something large, and its approach was heralded by the stream of magical fire which it was devouring, calling into its insatiable maw, luring itself towards the coven. The bonfire gave one final bout of red smoke, before petering out into non-existence. Darkness fell upon the woods.

Through the fog of nothingness, through the pitch black lens of night, a greater darkness lurched towards them.

Without any source of light, it was impossible to tell its composition. It was large, for every footfall shook the earth, and its bouldersome form crashed into the ancient tree-trunks about it, the sound of shattered bark filling the air, the sound of falling timber. It seemed to be a mobile mountain, with two appendages reaching forth that must have been arms, or perhaps claws- something of their shape and their movement reminiscent of reptiles.

"We've got to move," whispered Etheldredda to Conleth, scrambling off the young man and heading where she had last sighted the others in her group. She tripped, fell, her iron mask denting as it smacked against a rock. Teeth gritted she rose again and continued, reaching like the summoned beast was reaching its way into the coven, hoping beyond hope that she would not run straight into an adversary.

They needed light, and they needed it now. The hags were lighting fires of their own through means of magic, but just as soon as they were created they were snuffed out again, morsels for the Hagfather's unending hunger. Brief glimpses of the behemoth revealed it to be bloated, supported by two titanic legs, with a great hunch marking the top of its body- the creature's small, tumorous head emerging from the centre of the body. Hags be hagglin', gods be god damn crazy, it's all happening ogre at Into The Fire

16-Feb-2017 04:33:57

Forums

[RP] Into The Fire