Shadowfall - The Blade of Souls


Battal
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The people watched as the two figures were marched to the stands, their heads covered by burlap sacks. They were thrust into their chairs, and the bags removed from their heads. One was a teenage girl, with dark purple hair and hazy purple eyes. She wore an awkward rubber suit. The other was a teenage boy with slightly long, wavy brown hair, gray eyes, and extremely pale skin. Both were slightly emaciated, and the boy looked as if he had no soul.

"It would seem the jury has finally come upon their answer. Well, what is it? Do you believe these two attempted to start an war between us and shades by giving them most of our weaponry and armor?"

A single woman stood to her feet, from the stands. She read from a piece of papyrus.

"We have come to the decision that we believe these two are guilty high treason. Thank you, sir."

The woman sat back down.

"Do either of you two have anything left to say before we give you your sentencing?"

The boy simply whispered one sentence. The only thing that had been heard from him since he had gotten back.

"I'll kill all of them."

The boy started thrashing, yelling the phrase repeatedly at the top of his lungs. The girl backed away, tears in her eyes. Under the hands covering her mouth, she could be heard.

"Will... please, no..."

The guards ran to the boy, restraining him. He quickly settled down, returning to his soulless look.

"Now, the sentencing. These two have been proven guilty of high treason. As you all know, the sentence is....

death."

The judge slammed his gavel down, cementing the sentence. A group of guards entered the room, carrying with them an axe, a chopping  block, and a large ornate crate. With them, was him. The boss. He looked upon the boy with regret, and walked away back into the darkness. The guards had the chopping block set up very quickly, and had the boys neck on it, ready to be cut. He had no reaction, no whimpering, no scared look. The girl, however, was the verge of a full on breakdown. Tears were rushing down her face, and her hair risen in the air. One guard picked up the axe, and lined it up with the boy's axe. He rose the axe into the air, and held it there for a moment. Then, at that moment, the boys eyes widened with terror. He then spoke something different that his mantra.

"Bael.... is.... here...."

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White opened her eyes and slowly sat up. Looking around, she found her self someplace different from where she was when she blacked out. There was still snow, but the area was flat with very few trees and bushes and grass tufts were scattered about.

Confusion spread across her face as she mumbled to her self, "What?"

Edited by MenaAthena
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Randy woke up somwhere in middle of... nowhere. Snow around was melting into mud with ground.

- Ouch... My head... Did I really drank so much?

He tried to retrieve his memory but there was nothing.

- God dang it. Maybe there is any city or village?

His quick armor was really heavy now.

- Shouldn't I have any weapon for any cause? - He though.

On the ground few metres away was an old, rusted sword, bad-for-fights-enough-for-defence sword.

- Maybe this thing?

He started to search for anything around. Randy found only some silver coins and anything else.

- Ugh, it's time to move on.

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Still confused, White stood up and stared walking around, lost in thought.

​'Ok White, Stay calm. There must be an explanation for what is going on. What's the last thing I remember. Let's see, I was freezing and starving; I could barely move, then a voice came from under the snow-'

"Aaaaaaahhhh"

A startled, white rabbit running toward it's burrow abruptly stopped White's train of thought.

*sigh* ​'What ever happened seems to have given me a second chance at surviving. I shouldn't waist it.'

With that thought, she began to gather nearby grass tufts.

Edited by MenaAthena
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One by one, the torches all went out. The screams grew louder with every torch blown out. The heads man interrupted his swing, and focused on the people.

"Hurry, get out of here! Some foul magic is at play!"

Added to the normal screams of fear were added blood curdling screams as limbs and organs were thrown out of the darkness. Soon, there was only a sphere of light. A couple of guards, the headsman, the girl, and the boy. They had 2 torches in the sphere. The girl stepped back in between the two torches.

"What's happening!?"

No one had noticed that the boy had risen. He walked over to the girl, and put his hand on her shoulder.

"We will not die here."

The boy grabbed the girl by her waist, and ran off into the darkness. Soon after, the two torches ran out. The screams of the guards faded away as the boy ran. Just as he heard the gush of wind, he stepped into a faint, purple light. There were two teleporters, but one was in tatters. In between them, was a chest. Inside was the two's possessions. The girl's regular clothes, a dull sabre, the boy's bag, and his dagger. The two got equipped. The two stepped onto the teleporter's platform. A sheet of glass slammed down, separating the two from the outside. Just before the teleporter activated, a lone figure stepped into the light.

 

He looked just like the boy.

 

The boy slammed his fist onto the glass, tears in his eyes. But before he could say anything, everything went dark. The two awoke, side by side, in the middle of a snow ridden plains. The girl looked at the boy, a fearful look in her eyes.

"We're not... Please tell me we aren't..."

"We are."

The boy arrenged some nearby stones in a circle, and loaded all of the grass and twigs he had left in his bag into the pit. He lit the fire, and sat next to it. The same soulless look appeared on his face again.

"Who was that? And who is this 'Bael'?"

Will gave no response.

"Will, you need to talk to me! Who was that!?"

Will simply muttered, "I'll kill them all."

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White's collecting was going at a steady pace. So far she had a bundle of grass, a few twigs, a couple handfuls of berries, and a carrot.

A glint in the snow caught her eye. It was a piece of flint. Carefully picking it up, White took a twig and attached the flint to the end with a few blades of grass. Staring down at her creation, she realized something was off, and it wasn't the fact she suddenly knew how to make an axe, but she couldn't quite place it.

With a shrug, she began choping down a nearby tree.

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(Well this is interesting.

 

I thought continuations off of a milked idea was bad. I like it already.

 

Name: Charles Forsooth

 

Race: Human. Enough.

 

Age: 22

 

Gender: Male

 

Backstory: (I believe it's better to reveal one's backstory through interaction. Best way to know a character is through glimpses of the past. Or at least that's the excuse I'm using.)

 

Abilities: For most of you, he's odd. Some might say mad. Frankly, even I, the creator of this fictional character, can relate with most of these claims. Except that there is a question that can be asked; is he really? Has he really gone loopy, metaphorically? Or is he seeing the truth that we are all blind to? Is he seeing the ideas that we are either unknowing of or refuse to acknowledge? Is he mad, or is he knowledgeable? That's for you to decide;

 

Lunacy And Rune-acy

Magic. It is an interesting thing. We humans always think of this intriguing, supposedly fictional element as being compromised of several, large blocks of raw power, each overcoming the other in an endless battle of elemental rock-paper-scissors. Even though it's not. We're so simple-minded, we don't think of imagining beyond what we have been taught about sorcery. We prefer to follow in the footsteps, innovations, and ideas of other people. Yes, it's true that magic can be classified into different ideas, but the few people creative enough to explain the phenomenon in their own ways can see that it's more like a deck of cards; when sorted carefully, one can seperate the different aspects into their own spot. In other words, organized. However, you can't keep it kept in an organized stack all the time if you're going to use it effectively; you have to find exploits in the randomness of the aspects. Charles is one of the few that has used these exploits more then several times with very specific tools, very specific memorization, slightly less specific mediums, and very specific circumstances, which, considering the randomness and unpredictable state of sorcery, is actually quite lucky. Even better that he keeps the neccesary items with him.

 

Appearance: In physique, he's quite skinny and tall, and appears to always be in a sickly state. His hair is a thick, curly mass of matte dirt brown. His left eye is a murky red, while his right eye is bright blue. The clothing he's wearing includes a pair of spectacles, with one of the lenses broken into a web of shatter lines; a large, worn out, patched traveling cloak, colored a mottled black, that has seen better days; simple fuzzy apparel underneath said coat, handmade socks made from cured leather, with thick stitching; a satchel and a feather that's more of a duster on his ear.

 

Personality: He's different from other elders, to put it simply. Not exactly the collected, stoic, humble man that you expect from his image, quite the opposite in fact; slightly klutzy and mad, but he is such a genius in an array of topics, and a child on the outside. In fact, he's the perfect snarky genius for your below average, runaway group of lost souls, if he was what you consider, within the confines of a human's comprehension, normal. For the two people that are willing to admit that normal is nothing but an illusion, I congratulate you, though I do admit his mentality can be questioned.

 

Inventory: Depending on whether he goes left or right in the morning, he carries the following on him in his oddly shaped satchel;

  • Leather Notebook
  • Gobbler Feather Quill
  • Candied Meat
  • Flasks + Stoppers
  • Rod
  • Attachments (Clamps Onto His Glasses)
  • Tiny Screws
  • Cloth
  • Satchel Of Materials (i.e Flint, Twigs, Grass)

 

Side Notes: Don't try combing his hair. The comb will get stuck. Also, if he creates a solution that is red, it's preferable to run.

 

How's this?)

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With one final swing of the axe, the pine tree slowly tilted and fell to the ground. White stood there with a satisfied smile as if she had just conquered a mighty beast.

She began to chop the tree into logs while humming a calming tune.

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The enormous crunching smash of the fallen tree echoes across the landscape.  And sounds like that do not go unheard in this place.  Not anymore. 

 

     Outside the Soul Trap, the Forgotten are not unkillable; however, this does not bring the prospect of victory any closer.  They still retain their powers, and they still retain an aura of despair.  Mere seconds after the tree falls, White feels a sudden rush of hopelessness, and hears a whisper in the back of her mind.  The words are not discernible, but they most certainly do not sound friendly.

 

 

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White's eyes widen and she turns around, griping her axe tightly. Her eyes dart from side to side as she scans the area, but she sees nothing. Panic starts to set in as her breathing quickens and her body shakes. Griping her head with one hand, she takes a deep breath and begins to hum another tune in an attempt to calm herself.

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A half hour goes by without any change in the whispers. More than enough to let the hunter's quarry grow calm.  Dismiss the whispers as some sort of sleep deprivation.  The Forgotten have no care for time.  They can wait.

 

After that half-hour passes, however, the whispers begin to grow louder.  As if the speaker is growing closer and closer.  The words being spoken can now be heard somewhat clearly, in the voice of a madman.

 

<Give up...even if you survive...no end...pain...eternal...all...things...die...>

 

And behind those words, a woman sobbing, the kind of absolute sadness only present at a loved ones deathbed.  A painful throbbing begins to pulse in White's head, like the speakers of the words are pounding at her mind with sledgehammers.

Edited by Lord_Battal
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Randy goes through tall-grass plains covered in snow. He was wet inside armor to the half of legs.

He started to shout for other people.

- Hello!? Anybody here!?

But for now the only reply was his echo.

- Where the hell am I? - was his only though right now.

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"Gah!"

White drops her axe as she clutches her head with both hands. Doubt sweeps through her mind.

'No end? Pain? It sounds like the ramblings of a mad man, but is it right? Is there really no reason to continue?'

Her eyes slowly gravitate toward the locket hanging around her neck. Opening the locket, she takes out a picture, carefully unfolds it, and stares at it for a moment. A look of determination spreads across her face.

"You're wrong!"

White grabs the axe and starts running, still clutching the picture in her other hand.

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Both Violet and Will sat around the fire. Violet had already made an axe and some structures for their base. Will had simply sat around the fire, looking off into space.

"Will, we need to talk. You have to do some work. We can't just sit around. Knowing where we are... we need to make a plan. What do we do?"

Will finally moved. He looked Violet dead in the eyes.

"We kill them all."

"Who? Who do you want to kill so god damn badly, that you wouldn't f*****g say anything to defend us!? Who!?"

"The shades. Shadowfall's kind."

Memories came back to Violet. The death of Pops. Dark Will's sacrifice. The kidnapping. Will attempting to begin a streak of genocide. Violet places her hands on Will's shoulders, struggling to shake him to his senses.

"That stuff is behind us, Will! They're dead, and moping about genocide isn't going to bring them back! Snap out of it!"

Will suddenly stands to face Violet.

"It isn't that ******* easy! Knowing that I ended my one lifeline's own existence because I was careless! And what happened not but 3 hours ago, do you even know what I saw!? I saw friends, butchered! Citizens, slaughtered! You don't think I'm going to f*****g be destroyed by it!? For all I know, everyone in the society is dead! The boss, my friends, they could be a bunch of limbs! And you don't even know who the f**k that thing was! That is the thing that almost destroyed all of existence! And it is back, and it is sacking the society as we speak! He could very easily be going for the throne again! I am FREAKING OUT!"

Will's eyes grow wide, as he picks up the axe. Violet looks behind her to see a figure, also holding an axe, running towards them.

"Who the hell is that!?"

White slowly begins to come into view, running from some unseen terror.

"Something is chasing her, and we may be caught in the collateral damage if we don't get out of here."

"We can't just go! We have to help her! Letting people die for no reason is not on my agenda!"

"You'll be the death of us!"

Will and Violet run forward into yelling range of White.

"What's going on? What are you being chased by!?"

 

Edited by Will
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(Have a new character, then, which I prepared regardless of whether you accepted that or not.

 

Name: Feidlimid Onyek

 

Race: Human

 

Age: 18

 

Gender: Male

 

Backstory: (Keep it revealed through interaction.)

 

Abilities: If by abilities you mean the manipulation a character can induce on the environment and powers they hold, then he has no abilities at all, just your bland, average man. If by abilities you mean the objects a person has that acts as a medium and thus acts as an aforementioned manipulatory tool, then he has something.

 

Sheets Of Reality

His stacks of circular paper with drawings are different, which should've been obvious considering this paragraph is under abilities. What makes them differ from other drawings or special paper is that these sheets of paper work in a memetic reality. The sheets act like the drawings in bizzare ways and can even be percieved by weak minded people as the drawing. For example, if a drawing of a spear was on the sheet, it would be percieved as one and could even cut someone if one were to hold it on the edge. Nasty paper cut. Shame that the drawings can't be erased and that all except one of the circles has been doodled on and are therefore locked.

 

Appearance: Physically, he is slightly thin compared to other people. His head is covered in a ragged mat of straight, jet-black hair. His eyes are the color of a jade green. He has a small circle imprinted on the back of his neck. The clothing he's wearing is a pale white yoke shirt, a celtic, seemingly random pattern printed around the chest, a piece of cloth pinned to the front of his shirt. with a slightly baggy smock pants.

 

Personality: He's the boring type in terms of character, but his blandness is one of the reasons some people like him. Slightly bland and oblivious, he seems to be an absentminded person. His absentmindedness makes him quite endearing and friendly to other people, apart from him being forgettable. Simplistic, minimalistic and tasteless, he's the perfect man that can blend into the background. He is quite smart, though, despite his monotonous nature.

 

Inventory: To put it simply, the only thing he has is a folder filled with sheets and sheets of cut paprus, with each sheet scribbled on with several relatively simple pictures of objects. The pictures vary from weapons to tools to seemingless useless objects.

 

Side Notes: N/A

 

Yes, those surnames are real. Last name was shortened a lot.)

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Will then begins to hear the whispers, and Violet soon after. They look at each other.

"It's one of..."

"The Forgotten. This doesn't mean they left Shadowfall alive, does it?"

Will draws his dagger, and Violet, her sabre.

"Young lady, I suggest you go to that camp behind us, and gear up. This thing is vicious, and will try every second to kill us."

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