IC: The Arrival

[The End of All Light.]

Thibor the Cruel

It began with an almost imperceptible ripple in the sky, the sort of thing that was easy to pass off as an artifact of the heat or a peculiar happenstance of water vapor or naturally occurring gas. Even the animals in this wilderness area paid it little heed as they went about their business as if nothing were different on this day than on any other day in their narrow scope of existence. This idyllic ignorance was shattered like glass upon the unforgiving ground as evil red clouds began to boil across the sky. They seemed to come from some nebulous point above the thick forest and they spread like wildfire over the cerulean dome. Now things took notice. The animals began to panic and flee for the safety of their dens and the few human settlers that occupied this undeveloped tract huddled together within the safety of their meager dwellings and waited for whatever hell had come to pass to pass them by. They would not be so lucky. Tree's erupted in flames as actinic arcs of red lightning crashed down from the disturbed heavens and a wind that sounded like the agonized moan of the earth itself began to bend the forest to it's whim. Time and space seemed to warp and bend as an obscene extra-dimensional pressure intruded into this forested Eden. In some places plants and animals alike aged and developed in mere seconds, going from the flush of health to the decrepitude of old age in an instant while in other places time seemed frozen in a single moment of terror. Frightened humans ran from their homes only to be caught in spatial loops that held them inexorably in this spot, unable to flee and unable to comprehend what was happening. Then there was silence for the span of five breathes.

The entire landscape was bathed and overwhelmed by a brilliant white light, like the smile of God upon a darkened land. Everything seemed calm, peaceful and serene and then, apocalypse.The explosion was mammoth, the very fabric of reality was torn asunder with an agonized rending of planar and dimensional boundaries. everything within the immediate area was utterly obliterated as a massive, jagged mountain suddenly appeared out of the titanic breach. The shockwave ripped through the landscape, flattening homes and trees alike within a twenty mile radius. Reality itself had been shaken to it's very core and the repercussions would be felt over the entire planet. The nearest territories would experience a rapid but temporary dissolution of spatial constants. Distances would warp and gravity would go awry. Those further away would be greeted by only the slightest hiccup in the relentless march of time, perceptible but not damaging in the least. In the wake of this catastrophe there was left...it. Dracostack, a mammoth mountain wrenched free of its native realm and flung into the space between the worlds by the occupant of this strange and terrible home.

Dracostack hardly resembled the majestic peak it had once been. Now it was more like an artificial volcano, surrounded by ragged spires of natural rock, worn into their present shapes by the stresses of existence outside of conventional reality. The caldera had clearly been formed by a blast of unnatural origins and terrible proportions. Deep inside the glimmer of artificial light could be seen, a thousand stars on an inverted night sky. Smoke billowed forth from hundreds of chimneys while jets of steam hissed and surged from numerous fissures. All around this ominous peak a shattered landscape spread. It's entry into this world had turned the once lush and verdant forest into a blasted landscape that even the most forsaken of creatures would find themselves unable to eke out an existence amongst the devestation. As if the mountain were some foul hive a swarm of fluttering black shapes soon came pouring from the heart of the mountain. their enhanced and watchful eyes scanned the land below as they flew out, trying to get a better feel for this place that they now found themselves while deep within the mountain something more malevolent stirred from it's mystic slumber.

Thibor stretched forth his awareness as his Aerie came to a thunderous and shuddering halt. The crimson tendrils of energy that writhed and twisted together seemed to hum with an evil laughter as Thibor drifted upwards through layers of stone and organic material until at last he came to the gateway chamber. Standing stones, carved with blasphemous runes and strange numerical expressions pulsed with a hidden power. Thibor drifted before a pair of them and focused his senses on them. His symbiote mind, it's simple but malevolent intelligence perceived his intent and began to roll the fractally mutating Equation across his mind. The standing stones were his own creations and were quickly and easily found. Within his thoughtscape he could see a brilliant red pulse arch from his form to the runes upon the stones. In the real world the stones themselves began to hum softly before exploding into life with a crackling of arching energies. Between the stones there shimmered into being another chamber, this one easily several hundred yards in length. Within a thick, vapor boiled and a blast like the very Icelands themselves roared from the portal. Lacking skin sometimes had its advantages and now was one of them as Thibor drifted into the freezing cold. Within the dark chamber he could perceive his labors, hundred upon hundreds of them. Each one was perfect, exactly like the base material before it had become twisted by the power that flowed through it. " This one will do for now I think." He thought to himself as he drifted down into one of the waiting bodies.

His essence bonded seamlessly with the crystalline collector in the skull of the clone. Organs began to pulse to life as the animus that was Thibor brought vitality to his discarded flesh. Flesh had it's inconveniences but a creature like the Wamphyri, so inextricably bound to his lust, could not stay completely separated from it. Soon the Adonis limbs began to twitch to life and goosebumps rose along flawless alabaster skin. His eyelids fluttered beneath angelic brows and slowly they lifted only to reveal swirling, hellish pits of crimson energy. The eyes were the windows to the soul and Thibor was nothing but soul now. At least that is what most people thought of his current state. He was not sure that he had a soul. A soul had always seemed to him to be a burdensome thing reserved for those who kept blood off their hands and stood up for those that were weaker. Thibor had a will and that was just as good. He had a will and he had power which meant he could enforce his will. The more power he gained the more he could enforce until eventually he would be a true god. He drew himself up from the mimetic gel that had housed this husk for so long and he slowly made his way via out of the portal and up to the baths by the more mundane passageways that riddled the mountain.

For many long hours he enjoyed the water's comforting embrace as the things that passed for his servants tended to him silently. The silence was a blessing really. He had so completely altered his creations that now they were extensions of his will. They had no need to make reports or to be issued verbal commands. Thibor had merely to let his mind wander to get an overview of his troops and his holdings. As the warm waters eased away the hibernation tension in his muscles he let his mind do just that. He sensed the urgency as a group of Scuttlers repaired a wall on the north face. He almost smiled as a Keeper took the lash to one of the human slaves in his breeding pits. He no longer required blood to live but he still liked the taste and the soul was the most exquisite dish. This lasted for many more hours before he finally rose from the waters as mute creatures dried his flawless flesh. He was dressed in his favorite robes, his hair combed and locks of it isolated with small bands of gold. His gauntlet was on his left hand as always and the Null space Armor on his right. These were his trappings of authority and he would wear them as he gazed out upon this new world.

His peculiar gliding gait carried him with a noble grace to the nearest window, a wide opening in the living stone that let out onto a large stone shelf that had been made into a balcony. Below he saw the destructive force that his arrival had unleashed and a smile tugged at the corners of his seraphic visage. He could almost feel the life in this world, a pervasive feeling of vitality that reached to him from all corners of this sphere. He let his eyes drink in the boundaries of what he now considered his and he smiled." Let us see what this place has to offer." He said to himself before turning slowly back inside. He had work to do and an appetite to satiate before setting out to take what he wanted.

[The End of All Light.]

Thibor the Cruel

His nostrils flared, convolutions and ridges forming along the bridge of his nose as it blossomed into a leaf like shape. There was something in the air, not a physical scent but a scent none the less. It drifted upon etheric winds and astral expanses to alight upon senses that most mortal beings could scarcely imagine." Hmm now there is an essence I have not felt for so many years." His forked tongue licked from between his lips and lashed at the air in a serpentine manner." Yes the taste is different, very different but the base is undeniably the same. Well well my darkling match what brings you to me again?" He could only assume she had come to this miserable backwater in search of him. He couldn't think of anything more important out here than him, especially where she was concerned. Perhaps it was dillusion but it was all his ego would allow.

Myriad mental darts flew through the psionisphere, each one carrying his curt mental order to the dronelings that even now scouted out this wilderness. The order was simple," Find her and lead her here." Each dart carried with it the unique part of her that he was still able to sense. The black clouds of magichanical creatures began to flit, back and forth through the sky, an ever widening search pattern as they turned every sense, both mundane and arcane, towards finding that single itch at the back of his mind. " Ahh Atra, whatever can you be up to?" He mused aloud as mute servants stood in silence, save for the whirring of gears and soft hissing of pistons." Make the main audience chamber ready. See to it that the glow orbs are running at peak efficiency and that everything is suitably polished and sparkling for her arrival."

The servants simply nodded and went to carry out vanity's command. It was vanity, a constant jousting between the two of them that had begun the very moment they met. there always existed a certain tension between them, mostly because he desired to possess her and she made her self tantalizingly unavailable.  Truth be told he enjoyed it more than he let on. She frustrated him to no end, but she remained one goal that kept him coming back to the material plane time and time again. She was the only thing that ever remained beyond his grasp and he welcomed every opportunity to begin their dance once again. He preened like a peacock in a mirror of obsidian, checking that every platinum lock was in place and every golden decoration was just so. Once everything had been set to his satisfaction there was but one thing to do, wait.

Since he was resigned to wait anyway he decided he would do so in style. He walked to the audience chamber and ascended the raised throne dias and settled himself upon the throne of gilded bone. He wore no crown, the throne spoke for itself. It took him many long moments of contemplation to settle on just the right pose, that look of casual power. All the while his magichanical slaves made about their work, quietly doing the tasks they had been altered to do. No doubt she would feign indifference upon her arrival but he knew better. He was always immaculately impressive and whether she showed it or not he knew that for at least one moment she would experience a small frission of awe before their serpent dance would begin again.

[The End of All Light.]

[align=justify:9a8fa661e4]Time elapses in the folds and creases of space, continuum exists where momentum ebbs and flows like the tides of lethe… and of all places who would have thought their paths would once again cross by fate or misconceptions misguided fortune; to darken his doorstep once more. There was only one being who could send such mechanical devices in which to pluck unsuspecting information about those who marauded these lands whether by nomadic natures or commitment to their beloved monarch. Everyone had their puppets to use and abuse in every context of the word – Atra was no different, far surpassing the masses with her cunning wit and subtle manipulation. Why had she even come here? It was pure and simple… to establish her influence into new found soils with the intent of conquest, after all it was the wamphyri’s disposition to devour anything and everything in their paths. Self preservation and survival being two of their strongest obsessions… and definitely the natural instinct of the Dimmu to obliterate worlds… that was enough reason to investigate the prosperity.

It had only been by mere chance that Atra managed to happenstance on a world where Thibor now resided. Could it have been by pure coincidence? Well, Atra didn’t believe in tenuous ideologies of destiny or fate, considering herself more of a connoisseur to her own philosophies and then musing those revelations to manipulate her own influences to create favourable triumphs. The master of her own desires not some fanciful deity with no tangible material substance and thus bearing no appealing attraction to subjugate. If it didn’t attract the passion or hunger, it was all of no relevance. Was it even Thibor’s essence and existence she had sensed? Hadn’t Ladislas extinguished his flame? Could her own senses be deceiving her? No… it was Thibor and it wasn’t possible to deceive those adept intuitions. This is why Atra had initially arrived here – of course not without leaving word of her whereabouts. Hopefully, Thibor wouldn’t take their volatile past too begrudgingly after all what was loyalty amongst fiends? Their history had been extremely diverted by twisted humour and perversions beyond that of what any mind could understand who weren’t of the wamphyri whether by spore or alterations. And in the sick depravity of definition he was responsible for the creation that she was.

Even if he had not obtained his objective of being a god? Thibor still had aided in the creation of something forbidden by law of physics when he had extracted the essence he had given her Atra had then found another means in which obtain it, no longer did she behold to such strictures of mercy and sympathy demonstrated in the past, she no longer possessed unnecessary grace and only the insatiable hunger to dominate, possess and destroy were all that remained. Indeed he had seen the weaker side of her, and of course it was loathed and despised… Atra in her younger days… not the new twilight that was about to asphyxiate this world around him. Even when scrying over the world of Sharvani with her ‘sniffers’ and ‘Oracles’ his scent had been obscure; arousing her curiosity to personally investigate. Senses reeling to decipher direction and pinpoint his exact location, being that he had also sent out his little creatures to lead her back to him. How quaint to receive a token of welcome from one so entwined in her being. Chin ascending to scourge the breaking heavens then pushing her diminutive physique off the trunk of her beloved creation, the venomous blooms of ‘khun’golestam’ whose purpose was to enchant and irrevocably spread it’s incurable plague.

Hapless fluctuations of indigo and silver streamed infiltrating through he canopy above, moonlight filtering through leaves caressing ethereal fingers – no sound emanating from boot heels as Atra made her way across the landscape casually yet punctually and by no other means of physical labour she had no use for grand entrances or magical abilities, she had long cast such powers aside. Making her way through the dense groves of ancient sentinels and ruins only to suddenly be led into open fields of barren wasteland. Burnt terrain – scorched landscape and pillars rising through the soil as if the beast maws had opened to engulf. And there is was, gaseous smoke rising from the contorted towers of flesh and bone forming terrible chimneys and rising vents puffing out industrial smog and the chemical toil far beneath the scab on the surface… but with every scab there was always a wound ready to be scratched. The small black ‘objects’ had swarmed only to lead her here, to this desolate place… piceous scintillation brewing on the surface of narrowing crescents. Thibor wasn’t the only singular reason to venture, however it was plausible and perhaps information could be obtained and exchanged without pleasantries pretence.

Twin scimitars, one on either side of her hips, silver finger armour shining resplendently in the diverse illuminations, shadows dancing over the glistening argentate ornaments on each slim finger of her left hand, razor sharp and finally honed. Integument limbs swathed in psilomelane tourniquet, silver skull clasps pulling together the divided slits and tiers of varied leather that revealed milky tinctures of porcelain curvaceous hips. Rivulets of burnished sable and midnight streaming in the squall that raked back those silken cascades away from her features revealing the monochromatic beauty she was notorious for. Cerise apertures dividing to produce a raucous hiss ”Would you be so kind to extend an invitation to enter your abode of your free will my dear”. What a dance of volatile serpents this would be…[/align:9a8fa661e4]

[The End of All Light.]

[align=justify:bb05932292]Not bothering to wait, for his response… business would be short and sweet, the wamphyri, looked after their best interests and Thibor would certainly be no exception. if it had not been for Thibor’s essence detected when scrying the equation and how intricately threaded together brought each other into existence – Atra would never have diverted her attention to the side of Sharvani. For the moment, this was an ‘amicable’ calling should any attempt to read into her existence, presence or purpose all they would discover was a convenient excuse and nothing more. Atra was extremely proficient in covering her tracks and not leaving her thoughts open to be read by mental intruders or thought-sniffers… whatever they dared classified themselves. Even her body language and demeanour was non threatening except for that aura of ‘presence’ that emanated around her physique mutual in feigned nature – at least that would be what others would see, should any attempt be made to perceive her aura. Smirking slightly, there was only one who resided here who remotely knew her and it was before his abode that she now stood, confident and assertive.

Atra had not travelled to this world alone, separated only for a moment by her own personal reasons, leaving the ‘others’ to scout the land and see if they could place pressure on various areas of Sharvani, burrowing their way into the heart of the world like a carnivorous parasite, seeking its home in the bowels of another living entity. They knew exactly where her location was, even in a place elaborately shielded… Malice could track her simply by blood and the signet worn about her neck. The strength of Thibor’s equation meaning that any whom chose to follow Atra would have to use mundane means for the potencies would be perverted in the overwhelming ambience on mathematical control. It made more sense to establish a means of information, who reigned here and who held important positions… if of course Thibor possessed this information, Atra would ask subtly. Under the radar, without giving any detection or intention of her plans; she was sly and cunning, more then most and if Thibor knew anything of her it was that. It was this dangerous twist of words that Atra held back for a moment, considering if he offered invitation of his own free will and that she would enter only because of invitation and not intrusion that was of her free will – it was this decadent nefarious resolve that most wamphyri didn’t give themselves to the whim or will of another without being aware of it. Atra would never be one of them.

Again, waiting was no longer a strong point of Atra – crossing the threshold of Thibor’s domain with an intrepid step, left hand furling around the hilt of her right side scimitar, expecting the unexpected… there was no trust here and either would be foolish to trust the other, they could run rings around any creature except for some of their own, rather sceptical monsters the wamphyri are, then again Atra wasn’t just any wamphyri and neither was Thibor by his own right. There was nothing to say that Thibor hadn’t altered himself in any way since their last encounter when Ladislas had taken his life. Nigrescent eyes scanning askance, passing the war beasts, warriors, slaves and the usual sights of the aerie; masters of perverse creation. Sashaying swiftly through the labyrinthine chambers, being led to where Thibor resided by one of his more hideous servants…turning human flesh and bone into a twisted, deformed ghoul of pure atrocity. Atra being brought before Thibor and left alone, the doors being closed behind her leaving them to privacy. Eyes scanning the chambers before finally residing on Thibor, cardinal apertures arching into a cynical smirk ”I see that some things never change!”

Shoulders squaring back, head rising in a self-aggrandising mannerism, both arrogant and proud… ”So tell me why here, of all places?” It was a feasible question, since the last time Atra had seen Thibor he had interests in the world of Ayenee and she had met him in obtaining supremacy over Tenaria – so why this place? Of any land Thibor could possess in the universal multitudes of space and time why Sharvani? Atra had changed considerably since last Thibor had a true perception of her, the Dimmu’s presence hold an ascendance alongside the wamphyric and taking a moment to expand the voidal essence of her true being, allowing it cloak  about her in decadent obscenity, removing the final possibility of any overhearing or perception of her presence, the side effects however, unknown to Atra since she didn’t follow the mathematical inclusions of Thibor, for void, however restrained would be like placing a miniature black hole thereby twisting all equational rules in her presence. For now one plus one could equal anything except two.
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[The End of All Light.]

Thibor the Cruel

Thibor sat there stone faced and terrible as she approached." Some things don't and other's do. Sometimes one must change in order to survive." He peeled back his robes to reveal his bare flesh. The flash of a gauntlet blade and the alabaster expanse parted to reveal a swirling mass of crimson energy. There at the very core of it was a pulsating patch of blackish green." For example I now carry a certain portion of the very venom that almost destroyed me. I am forced to since even I cannot remove it. So it sits and I swear it waits for the day when I will let down my guard and it can destroy me. I am superior to any venom though and it is only a matter of time before I subsume it into myself. As I recall it was one of yours that did this to me." He let the skin flap go and it sealed itself with a sluicing, sucking sound.

Her questions came more rapidly than he would have liked but he answered them none the less." Why here? Why not here? the truth is I have no reason other than a need for a few basic supplies which I can gather here. That is one advantage to my current state of existence. I do not have to have a reason for anything I do. Now I've answered your questions it is your turn to answer mine. Why have you come to me? What is it you need Atra? I can't believe that this is a coincidence Atra. I doubt seriously you came all the way here to this backwater just to reminisce on old times." He was aware of the sudden voidal expanse and instantly his mind seized upon it. Such phenomenon had a set of equations all their own and already his godlike mind began to work backwards from the alterations that it made in prime reality. The vampiric essence within him began the task of correlating and encoding the information. He seldom got the chance to observe such things.

Atra had no need to worry for their privacy. The barriers that Thibor had placed around his home still were in effect. Matter and energy alike would be rerouted to a different random plane of existence. His sharp mind worked out the obvious. She had clearly not intended her voidal essence as a weapon or he would already be under attack. If it were a defense then by now she would have dropped it. It could only be a sort of blanket. " So little faith in my power? Or perhaps you just feel more comfortable that way?  Either way leave it there. I'm studying it while you come up with answers." He rose and began to circle around her, as if the different physical angles would somehow offer him more insight. It was as if he were examining some interesting insect and many people found that frank appraisal more than a little disturbing.

[The End of All Light.]

[align=justify:99cf7b48e0]Cloak removed to expose naked flesh, acrimonious orbs directed in their gaze to fall upon smooth alabaster, gracing his flesh with seeming disinterest while mind pondered the refined torso revealed. His gauntlet opening a cavity and within the swirling mass the contaminate green of Ladislas’s poison, a nefarious smirk creasing sanguine apertures and lips parting to allow words dripping honeyed tones to elucidate ”Such treacherous lovers we were Thibor… but think yourself lucky if it had been me, you’d be dead. He was punished for his insolence, isn’t shame enough for proud creatures such as we” The entire time Atra spoke, her eyes never blinking nor lowering from Thibor’s gaze, no hint of her accepting any superiority and nothing less then equal standing offered. Motionless, ravenesque locks trailing over smooth, pale shoulders, chest rising and falling with every breath, feet planted firmly, stance though not aggressive, assertive, more militarily at ease. Chin rising allowing bare expanse of throat revealing visions directed through impeccably formed peaks rising from the plateau of flatly muscled abdomen leading the eye to the twin pinnacles of firm nubbins displayed so ferociously through the tautness of leather… femininity was not an issue, it was indeed a statement.

The voidal warp having grown around Atra, an essential and living part of her very nature, detecting the subtle perceptions of Thibor, with chaotic rapidity, instantly shifting within itself. Tumultuous vibrancy, pulsating throughout her ambience, changing constantly unable to be truly ascertained, for chaos cannot truly be perceived and how can you predict something so unpredictably random. Ever changing and never being the same thing twice, with no pattern to follow, no clue to decipher. Accepting his answer for now, with a slight inclination of her head, light rippling in the motion of the long sable hair, though fully well knowing Thibor was quite a gluttonous creature and no resources that he acquired were ever basic. She had witnessed the gruelling labour of his orcs in Zimbadia and had seen his ravenous insatiable hunger and found it hard to believe he only sought meagre provisions. ”You do nothing unless it benefits you, that much is true but I don’t believe for a second that you do not reside here and conquest hasn’t crossed your mind. Why live off when you can control, so… effortlessly.” Deathly orchids twisting into a cynical leer. He did answer her question though what a shame it wasn’t entirely truthful at least from the Thibor she knew.

Ahh the shark circles his prey, but was he the predator, it is inevitable to know that the hunter can become the hunted and whereas the old Atra would have circled with him in this elaborate dance this time she stood perfectly still seemingly ignorant and indifferent to his mechanisms ”Quid pro quo…” salacious timbre oozing with acidic cadences ”Why else Thibor, for the same reason you have… as you call it, obtaining basic supplies and lo and behold by random uncertainties I just happen to tap onto your essence and thought I would stop by and reminisce… since I am already in the area…” Grinning with a fiendish simper and there she had answered his question and now it was his turn. ”So… are you trying to lead me to believe that your code of survival has nothing to do with conquest and that you are here living peacefully, like an ant in his hill?” Pausing an infinite moment after such deliberations to snicker derisively then tones dripping with sardonic dulcet intonations  continuing in a half hearted diversion ”No offense intended.” Maintaining  perceptions about her, completely aware of his exact position and motion, still not having moved nor turned her gaze to look upon him. Mind closed from outside inference, physique in nebulous perfection, the mannerisms of her demeanour haughty in grandeur. Comfort was not the issue, he had always been such a gracious host when addressing her, it was more the possibility of bad blood between fiends and she wouldn’t leave herself open, should Thibor choose to take derisive action for the sufferance Ladislas had inflicted, after all wamphyri were vengeful unforgiving creatures and it would be foolish to think otherwise.
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[The End of All Light.]

Thibor the Cruel

 Survival is no longer the highest ideology my dear Atra." He chuckled." Conquest is no longer a means to an end, at least not on this level of existence. I have my sights set on conquest but I have more lofty goals than this plebeian existence. Apparently it is not enough just to have the power. I have to seize my place amongst the true machinators of this existence. This world is a passing interest. To conquer it would lower me. I no longer wish to rule I wish to be worshiped and feared. Perhaps one day you will even deign to bend a knee and ask for my aid." The very thought of that almost brought him to an ecstatic peak, but he allowed it to subside." As for your Ladislas that too is beneath my notice. I am wounded, I am in a precarious situation but I am overcoming it. It took many many decades to get to this point in my recovery. He is strong but I am stronger and soon I will subsume the venom and then I will be beyond reprisals."


Thibor's plans were always of the grand scale. He could see nothing smaller. From the very time he began to understand existence he knew he could control it and the next logical step was to become a god, but what good is having the power if you do not have the worshipers? It was then that an idea struck him." Why Atra? Do you intend to conquer this realm? Perhaps you could serve the both of us. Conquer and spread my name to the lands that you do. I know that you burn offerings to others but why not me as well. In return your rewards will be great. The more worshipers you gain for me and the more powerful I will become and the more powerful I become the better I am able to help you. You see it is a mutually beneficial alliance is it not? You have nothing to lose by encouraging my worship and in return you will have the aid of a god that will make himself known to those you rule, ensuring their compliance with your reign."

He walked slowly away from her before turning suddenly about." Consider it Atra. You have only to continue with any plans of conquest you may have. Build a few shrines and burn a few offerings to me. I will make sure these are answered with appropriate wonders and signs. In this way the people become compliant and you gain territory that is much easier to hold. I  gain faith and worship which will increase my ability to secure my place in the higher realms. Have I not always aided you in the past? Has it not always been to your benefit? It is a simple thing Atra, a very simple thing. Help me and I help you when my power is completely consolidated." He peered at her intently, as if he could read the answer while it still lingered within the depths of her mind.

[The End of All Light.]

[align=justify:6780ad55a8]Just when she thought things could not get more amusing, Thibor had yet again excelled himself in a fashion leaving Atra wondering momentarily if she had indeed found her old acquaintance or stumbled instead on a travelling mummer offering cheap and shoddy entertainment. Had he gone and lost all his facilities while attempting to ascend or was this simply a plan to disarm Atra so he could attempt a seduction. Nothing enticed her more then power, but she preferred a man whom liked to get his own hands dirty and not the style of power that was hidden and had no practical use. God’s did nothing for Atra, nor did she have any use for them, they were a parasite on ones own initiative, manipulating their puppets and Atra would never be another’s puppet, even the assumption was insulting for she had never gotten on her knees for another, nor would she ever. She would stand and die in defiance before that becoming surrender would ever come to fruition. It was illogical and against characteristic she possessed. Surely Thibor would know that deep down inside his fantasy would never become reality and to believe it could occur was nothing but a seductive delusion, albeit of lunacy. Had he finally been driven mad in his transcendence?

For the duration of his words, Atra made no retort instead standing there listening attentively to the divulging dialogue, no expression of acceptance or refusal over her ashen façade, only that of statuesque voidness… inane. So there were no thoughts in her mind in regards to this proposal, for there was nothing to consider and perhaps the proposal he was proposing, towards a simple-minded neophyte who would have jumped off a cliff if told he could fly… or a bargain made to sell ones soul to the devil would benefit the fool before the devil; Thibor wasn’t dealing with a creature who needed divine acceptance or intervention to wage their manipulations in the world for even a spider spun its own web. Atra had stood alone, in obtaining what power she had, no man or creature could take credit of being a driving force behind her, in fact they had all grown dissident to her, the past no longer meant anything for it was the future upon whose hands would sever all life and there her name would be engraved on stone. Maintaining her complacency was becoming a little more difficult and her throat spasmed in the attempt to stifle voracious laughter, having to choke to force that treacherous laughter from ever escaping so jovial this encounter had thus far been and the Mockingbird looked on with a studious eye…

Thibor motioned slowly away from her now, her left hand gripping tightly around the right hilt of her scimitar only to brush the fingertip apexes over the silver embellished inscriptions then by the time Thibor had pivoted around her left hand moving to stroke across the smooth and sensual perimeter of concave navel, deceitful smile ever widening, lustrous rubescent embellishments, a sadistic twinkle glistening in the glints of her opaque eyes, hands moving to hang by her hips, while they began their provocative voodoo pendulum sway enchanting and hypnotic to the male senses, the slightest sheen of moisture appearing on skin as Atra released a potent concoction of pheremonal exuberance to waft the surrounding and fill the senses with her feminine presence, any male whom breathed could not hope to avoid such pleasing miasma, what a shame he sought such godly endeavours and could hardly refer to himself as male any longer, so her next actions should technically have no effect, yet still Atra would push the boundaries for even Gods had their nemesis.

Moving closer, shoulders thrown back, chest expanded to allow the perfection of feminine wiles to thrust forward straining the leather of bodice, another step closer, tongue reaching past sanguinous apertures to lick across the surface in predatory exploration, then her presence so close, head lifting that piquant breath, heated and delicate to blow across the flesh of his jaw. Vocal manifestation, so deep in raspy wantonness, oozing vibrations of that would grate the male senses into softened cheese or… hardened enthusiasm. ”Consider this… dear heart! Why would I worship you when I can worship myself, I have no need for that of gods. I relish in my own needs and I love to have the blood on my hands from those nefarious deeds. Don’t you love to get your hands dirty? Such a shame, we could have worshipped each other like bats in the night and brought all worlds to the death knell, yet you would claim that of me.” Her head tilting forwards to slowly sniff up the side of Thibor’s throat, tongue flicking to lash the alabaster skin before withdrawing, savouring the taste of what had at least once been male flesh. ”This is where we differ, I have my worshippers yet I do not declare godliness for that would be beneath me… I have no need of puppets because I do what I do because I can and I have no use of man other then to please me and even that is not done so effectively well. Can you please me Thibor? What could you possibly do to make me change my mind and offer my allegiance under you and only you, what can you do for me that I cannot get for myself?” Her left eyebrow arching in condescension, but Atra was not yet done ”You want power, so badly you can taste it but do you have the means to take it… of your own fee will.”[/align:6780ad55a8]

[The End of All Light.]

Radu the Ferenczy

A faint sound warbled through the atmosphere of the aerie; the physical approach of something upon the very wind, as it grew dark and blowing black across the ambience of the foreground.  Again and again; as if the very Heaven's had opened with a fewing maw and the ground shook and quaked with the very presence of arrival.  The scraping of dragon-scaled boots; the forceful extention of a well placed heel, as the heavy doors are pushed; rather kicked open and the sound of a voice rising like a thunderous roar. " ATRA!"  The name echoes and bounces from one wall to the next; as the dark figure leaves behind a massacre of blood and tissue; dragging behind him the bloodied remains of once what used to be known as the man Tanthis.  His head cradled like a loving infant within the crook of his left arm.

In his right hand; those steel metallic claws were clutched tightly to what little recognition there was in the current state of such an abused form; leaving a crinsom trail splashed behind his visage.  A wet and sickly splat, as he tosses it towards one side; to feed the hounds and the guards tremble out of fear and fright.  The blood of the Wamphyri rushing through his veins; the power and link of the Dimmu sending surges of immense and chaotic turbulence through his blood.  He stalked like a mad man, and he stopped and those dark eyes lingered and rested, shooting daggers toward a particular servant.  " I want reports and I want them now.  Get some flyers into the air...DO IT NOW!"  The servant bowed forth and then scrambled away like an annoying little insect and left the Wamphyri Lord alone.

Alien feelings and emotions were running through and being tranlated and heightened by the leech within him.  Anger rose and soared as high as the Heavens.  His hatred ran as deep as the deepest and darkest pit of despair.  And his thoughts were momentarily interupted.  His once straight and slender nose twitched, the nostrils gaping wide and inhaling as it became more of a wrinkled and convoluted snout, like that of a great bat, against the pallour of his alabaster toned flesh.  His feral eyes narrowing; and the sudden eruption of that uniformed scarlet penetration seeping in like bleeding wounds; devouring each pupil until they wer aflame with a fiery shine.  Lips curled back to reveal elongated canines...The wretch!  How dare another be presence!  Oh and now jealousy boiled like the awakening of molten magma, deep beneath the crust of the earth.

Radu was now more determined than before and the suden realization...and his hands were upon the inner chamber doors and with a mighty shrug, he pushed them inwards, where they creaked and groaned upon their massive hinges and the winding gait that came upon the very steps as Hell entered the chamber; those bloodshot and ever so cruel and deviant eyes bear witnessed to the very closeness of Atra and Thibor; as she touched him.  The leech awoke with such a fury that it fed this directly into his every muscle.  In the blink of an eye ( and the expenditure of blood from his reserves ) Radu was nothing more than a blur; his vampiric speed was increased by the powers stolen from The Nameless, and he crossed the room as if those presence were standing still.  The process if information from his eyes to his mind was instantanious.

" That which you covet has a Master, you treacherous Lech!  Filthy cur and mangy dog!..."  Fingers clenched within the velveteen iner lining of his battle gauntlet, and the cutting sound of rasping blades and ripping scythes were activtated.  The Wamphyri stalked up toward the dias; his attention was more focused and concentrated on Atra.  His other preternaturl gifts and awaress were casted forward projected and his mental eye was turned toward that of Thibor.  " You belong to me and NO OTHER..."  His rage knew no bounds.  There were no limitations to what he was capable of, as he stepped forward, turned with a snarl toward Thibor, and at the same time, he would lash out with a violent, whip-chord and serpent like gesture.  His intention was to strike Atra hard, across the cheek.  To draw blood and a lasting reminder to never forget what she was.  

[The End of All Light.]

Thibor the Cruel

Thibor looked at Radu blankly for an eternity of seconds before bursting forth with a boisterous belly laugh that practically dripped with condescension. His symbiote essence already had the Equation unfurled in its mental space and soon Thibor had locked onto Radu's function within the larger numerical reality." And who said I want her? She is of no use to me. She finds my goals to be impractical and I find hers to be pedestrian. She will not aid me in mine and so I am not, therefore, inclined to help her with her own." He seemed wholly amused by the situation, despite the fact that his Aerie had been broken into and he had been insulted. If it were not so laughable he might have actually been angry, still a lesson needed to be taught.

Within his Aerie Thibor was closer than ever to his power source, that mammoth conglomeration of arcane angles and geometry that he drew upon to work his will upon the malleable stuff of reality.  Within in his very essence there existed an arcane analog of the self same power source, a smaller leech like tap that drew from the main. Despite Atra's voidal essence he was able to open up the full font of his reserves and draw into himself the power necessary to work his will. The effort was greater than it should have been but the Aerie itself had become attuned to his arcane essence, allowing him to do things that would be all but impossible outside its comforting walls. As it stood now the Aerie was the only place that Thibor could truly claim the title of God.

The roiling essence of hundreds of planes of existence was drawn into his being, supplementing the wellspring of arcane might that lay just beneath the fragile surface of his fleshy shell. He drew it off gradually as he spoke, so as not to tip his hand before he was ready to act." You seem to be under the impression that I want to take what you claim is yours. This assumption of yours has caused your blood to run hot and in your haste to act you have not thought things through as thoroughly as you may have liked. Because of this I will give you a rare opportunity. I will allow you to be the first to beg the forgiveness of the next god to ascend to the pantheonic planes. Just kneel here before me and beg for my mercy and I will give it to you." This situation was becoming all too amusing and would soon become a great deal more amusing of that he had no doubt. He began to isolate very specific variables in reality where they intersected with the function of Radu. His symbiote essence held that portion of the Equation locked as Thibor gathered up the arcane force necessary to alter it to his whim.

"You're only other option is to proceed with your current, and might I add ill advised course of action. You are outnumbered, and underpowered here. Tactically your position is unsound. I have but to sling a thought and every beast and magical warding in this Aerie will be set upon you. You will have no chance of survival. Even now the Controller has adapted my barriers to whatever means of entry you used to get in here. The next time you pass through the barrier you will be put into some random plane of existence. Many of those are particularly unpleasant for beings that exist in reality prime. Of course as I have said you have a way out if you only take a knee." Those words spoken Thibor focused his arcane might on the variables of atmospheric friction and gravity as they specifically related to Radu. He doubted seriously that this would prove to be a lethal curse but it would , without a doubt, prove to be very debilitating.

Unless the current object of his baleful attentions was able to somehow stop Thibor's alterations to reality then the targeted variables would increase in value exponentially until all of Radu's great strength would be devoted simply to remaining standing and even that would eventually be denied him. In addition any sudden movement would invariably cause Radu to burst into flame while gradual and slow movements would still produce an intensely unpleasant sensation of heat as friction began to work overtime. Thibor opened a channel between the selected variables his Power Source by routing the connection through his own essence, allowing him to retain complete control while simultaneously pitting the might of the Power Source against any who would attempt to interfere with his workings.

Thibor remained unsure if Radu had come alone or with reinforcements and with his concentration currently on the goings on within the chamber he could not receive any updates from the Dronelings. He knew that his troops and beasts were more than a match for even five to one odds against them, particularly the warriors. His warriors were the match for any five of another Lord any day. He simply had more advanced weaponry to equip them with rather than the archaic, but still useful, fang and claw. Regardless of the reinforcements thibor was more than their match here in his Aerie, his home.

[The End of All Light.]

[align=justify:0c88f051ec]What was definitely amusing, is how one strokes his ego when there really shouldn’t have been much ego to stroke and how words were twisted to bring Thibor into his own bitter web for there was nothing he could do that could even touch her, no equation to manifest and no mathematical continuum in the chaotic essence of the void for nothing could exist for it simply is… nothing. Nothing comes from nothing and nothing can exist from nothing and everything around her was simply a planar embodiment and could just as easily become non-existent… a void. Yet again he had failed to make comment and it seemed these days Thibor was a bit of a dupe, plotting his ascent yet sadly dragging himself to drown beneath the waters in a downward spiral. By pure assumption he derived her actions, as wanting him and like every other man he couldn’t be more gravely mistaken, then again Thibor was famous for assumption, such assumptions that were hardly god-like. For a god would have already known how this scene would play out and how the events would unfold… he would see his demise. Perhaps the scene would have been more theatrically amicable if Radu hadn’t have entered, he had obviously followed her without her intention and certainly not by her command, he had come here of his own free will and Atra had no clue that he intended on staking any claim on her affections or lack thereof.

A resonating bellow echoed through the aerie rippling through the void-imbued ambiance, an omnipotency that could not be mistaken and certainly instilled fear in those of lesser status for it wasn’t just a wamphyri that had befouled Thibor’s sanctuary, it was in fact the true primal point of the abysmal chasm; The Dimmu, not just an embodiment of it, for it had been Radu who slaughtered that foul and twisted god known as The Nameless… one who was considered a God, whom had the followers known as Darkbane for he was their avatar, not a simple announcement by the narcissist and simply because of this fact and the egregore of the void had already been filtering through the air contorting and twisting his precious equation and therefore rendering it useless, or perhaps dangerous to its own creator, for tampering with the equation he could just as easily erase himself.

The thunderous crash of massive doors buckling under the impact of Radu, who then proceeded to quickly move, not even a blur to assail her person and having no time to establish herself, because Radu already had the rage boiling though his veins, already prepared to attack where she had been indifferent and having no time to spin around and divert the blow. Head having just enough time to begin turning to locate Radu when from nowhere a blow, a blacksmiths hammer of wamphyric rage drove resonatingly into the point just above hinge of jaw on faces right side, bony knuckles scraping along flesh, her own teeth slamming into sanguinous apertures causing vitae to spatter with the rapid swing of Atra’s head. The blow, powerful her body, unprepared, spinning in follow through of majestic impetus. Lithe physique continuing effective motion until stopped by the hardened stone of the aerie wall. The immediate response, the ignition of ancient flame in her blood, the consanguineous reaction of compound normally harmless, binding together in elongated molecular strands to form toxins of basiliskic potency. Blood spatters flying onto the stone surface spattering into microscopic droplets to flow through the air itself, tiny spores of contagious death flowing through the mountain of Thibor’s like invisible plague, intoxicating any living flesh with the virulence of both fire and corrosion, proceeding to eviscerate and incinerate from within, the bodies reaction to unexpected violence and could not be considered a direct attack.

Atramentous eyes, widening, deep within those orbs, the gleam of flaming frankincense burning as the passion arose from the blood, the rush of rage, bursting the capacity of the enclosure of her mind, blowing out the seal of third eyes perception like a plug from a volcano and suddenly a momentary hush, a silence so deep to be painful, the spiralling rush of voidal inclemency exploding forth, spewing like a bursting sun from her now electrically psychic insurgence. Sound now filling the aerie, vision now distorting under the flow of infiltrating emptiness, for the chasm hungered and when released the natural desire of the empty, is to be filled. Walls appearing to waver, physical forms taking new and meaningless shapes as this continued in kundalini spiral, the ominous static crackling of blackened, now visible veins, nebulous potency in defiance of any reality, sparks of midnight ebony flittering and cracking like whips… then building to supremacy before lashing out to direct itself to the existing loci of the pure Dimmu, being that of Radu.

The results of such a collision of negative emptiness would be mathematically inviolate, for the double negative always assumes the positive, so where emptiness existed, upon contact with its own hungered essence, a creative implosion of radical particular matter would be formed. Highly charged particles of radiant electromagnetic pustulence would be reflected in every direction, the very emptiness of Radu and Atra able to absorb such matter, but any living thing, any soul, any living essence of entity would be broiled into non-existence by this harsh radiation. Quantum mechanical cone being established in the entity of the mathematical bindings placed by Thibor finding a natural resonance and singularity right in the point of his body where the poison so graciously supplied by Ladislas resided. The poison being initially of Atra’s creation, therefore a voidic manifestation in its own right; thus would be activated in insurmountable potencies instantaneously.

The gleam of crimson within Atra’s eyes having faded with the release of emptiness, instead as her head would rise, trailing ravenesque lock, the narrow slits of vision represent appearing as the heart of the chasm itself, empty, void, bottomless chthonian gaze sweeping across where Thibor and Radu stood. Rising slowly to full stature, head cocking to the side as neck would crack, feet parting to take a balanced aggressive stance, arms to the sides. Right hand, fingers elongating, bone, cartilage and flesh stretching, reforming into grievous diabolic mechanism, blades and scythes issuing and hollowed spines growing maliciously in readiness of wamphyric gauntlet. Capable to inject potent corrosive enzyme to liquefy internal organs viscera, pulp only to be siphoned back in deadly silken fangs. Atra’s voice, no longer honeyed, instead the gravelled cacophony of howling wraiths lurching in ”I would never beg to one with the inferiority that you possess… asinine festering rotten flesh… puppet to desires of things you cannot comprehend. You always misjudged me you amateur fool… and now all that you are and all that you have shall die around you. Can’t you hear it screaming and soon you shall be joining it. I don’t need pathetic magic you cowardly spawn of a dogs loins. I would be quite happy to remove you myself, by my own means”

Eyes narrowing to thinner opaque chromatic vehemence as her gaze swept Radu’s physique, her voice ever deepening into a growl of animal antagonism ”You dare interrupt me when in the embrace of treachery, he means nothing to me, you mean even less” Rage conflagrating, seething through every pore of her perfectly defined flesh, finding what was once a boring interlude of manipulation was now becoming more interesting, arousing deep seated chaotic passions, lusts growing uncontrollably, tearing through the psychotic façade that brewed with hankering carnal obsessions. Chest rising and falling with every raging breath, miniscule twitches running through all muscles, sable tresses standing out with life of their own as tiny sparks of static electricity ran down their lengths. Thibor now seen as a non-entity, there was nothing in his power that he could do to keep them here against there own will. The toxins pumping rapidly through the living entity of his aerie, any mechanics frazzled by the cancellation of radionic particles, disabling all connections twixt living matter and machine and Thibor himself would have battle enough with his own personally mutenagenic toxic inclusion that would change and expand constantly from the quantum mechanical cones direction. Should he have any more grievances (which now he had plenty) he would have to take on a more physical intervention, for magic and equations were now null and the only way left to fight was tooth and claw and gauntlet… the true wamphyri way and not the abomination he had made it. [/align:0c88f051ec]

1.   Atra has taken the hit by Radu
2.   The hit causing blood toxicity to rise in natural defense mechanism and spraying spores of death into the air of Thibor’s aerie, the contamination rots flesh and corrodes bone and cartilage, toxins will contaminate and act like a virus attacking its host in terminal fashion (Slaves, war beasts etc…)
3.   The void exploding over yet again a natural trigger effect where ones concentration on with-holding was diverted. The clash against Radu’s chaotic essence causing an implosion, reversing Thibor’s equation and in the process sending forth a particulate stream to sever the ties of life for the radius of twenty five miles with the intention of causing a black hole.
4.   A surge of static energetic pulsation released from the psychic mind interfering with electromagnetic conductivity and protons cancelling out any electro-mechanical devices
5.   The toxins already within Thibor’s system being forcibly mutated and expanded by the contact of the quantum cone, tracking back on his own equations.
6.   War gauntlet prepared… and challenge placed…

[The End of All Light.]

Radu the Ferenczy  

In the eternity of seconds it would have taken Thibor to conjure the essence it would have required to bring forth such an equasion or spell, that would even begin to venture and spin against the now omnious force that Radu had become; since the ingestation of The Nameless, and all of its powers; thus becoming the essence of Pure Evil.  The Father of all that was evil.  In those few precious seconds, Radu was already counteracting against; his scarlet eyes thus reforming and turning black as if the Void itself had opened wide and swallowed his very pupils; arraning the very presence of manipulated energies, and with nothing more than the blink of an eye, there was nothing of Radu to be " locked onto ".  The form of the one true acension of the Wamphyri Lord, he turned, his hand pulling back, the feel and the crush of her face beneath the impact; the blood imparting upon the blades as the Gauntlet absorbs and injects the very vitae into its wielder.

Radu then turned his given attention toward Thibor and his annoying and irritating laugh; one that sounded as if pigs were being strung up and gutted; their innards removed and splattered across the ground; like the sound of blades dragging across old and aged, brittled bones.  A single step was taken forward; and in that single moment; it would appear as if there were a multitude of his own form moving with a blurred and after-image effect, as Radu, now moved through more than one space, through more than one plane of existence, as he reaches out with his mind; his powers of mentalism increased by the presence of the ascended Leech.  His powers amplified by ten times what they had been in Life.  His awareness became like a smothering blanket; a cloud of thickening mindsmog erupting from such profound and perplexing depths that knew no bounds.

Thibor had provided the trigger-effect.  Atra had supplied the means for which now Radu, was able to reach forth and thus derive power from the very source; that which he had taken into his own being.  Mental fingers curled around the dark and ever seducing power of Bodom; a projected image of himself walking forward; ripping and splitting apart the known tapestry of what was reality; asunder and sitting down upon the very throne at the centre of the gauntlet.  The slow slide and inclination of his form upon the black and twisted metal that rose from nothingness; the Heart of the Primal Evil.  Joined as one, and the once image of The Nameless imprinting over that of Radu, becoming the very thing which Thibor self-proclaimed himself to be.  The power was tapped and it ingnited with a savage and furious response throughout his body.

With Thibor's equasion nullified by the Void and redirected by the force of their combined energies; Radu took a second step forward, and his body was no more than a single breath; a mere thought and speck within the cosmos of eternity; and not even the eyes of the Wamphyri could or could not even perceive the subtle shift, as the act against him, warranting the clash of evil against evil, thus which in return only provided him with the means and the conduit to make himself stronger.  Power increasing, and with the innate ability to make all that was evil present, to bow down before him, like the feeble little bitches in heat that they were.  " You will speak with proper etiquette in the presence of a Lord and his Lady," he chimed in with, his eyes bearing down upon form of Thibor.

Thibor would come to find it as a shock, that even though he might have appeared to be helpless and so-called outnumbered; less his attention now turn, as Radu leans forward, half leaning and resting hisleft arm across the top of his propped up leg.  " If you have not noticed...all Evil bows before me.  All evil is mine to command.  It is you, dear boy, whom are outnumbered..." Radu replied with a smile.  His black eyes reflecting the depths of which could never be fathomed; the power that surged through the breach; the connection that had been opened.  He felt no remorse.  No pity for this pathetic creature that should have never ascended to such a status.  Thibor should have been long denied the right, for such insolence.  It were as if a child had been given a loaded weapon.  Utter failure.

Unhindered by the negative response of the aerie; the curses that were thrown in his direction; Radu raised up and then threw a gaze back over his shoulder toward Atra, " And as for you...we'll continue how you shall be punished upon the return to Naethryn."  A small smirk appeared to cross from right to left, curling the corner of his mouth.  She deserved more..so much more...but in due time, and adverted his dreadful and silent gaze back upon Thibor.  So the little Lord whom thought himself to be a God, wanted to play witht he big boys now, did he?  Radu scoffed and then took a few more steps and thus, pulling back his right arm, he would launch it forward.  His fingers curled inward toward his palm; those metallic fingers making his fist as tight as possible, whicha ctivated the series of spikes and cutting blades, throwing it out toward Thibor; breaking several barriers and planes of existence ( as radu burns his blood point, and increasing his already given speed ).

What was there for Thibor to do?  Retreat?  Now that he would be forced to take on Radu with nothing more than his physical skills of combat...to take on the very Wamphyri Lord that has defied time?  One that has lived for countless ages and grown in power and of in strength?  Radu had no intentions of underestimating Thibor, but in his current state of arrogance, Radu was the better when it came to melee.  The atmosphere was pushed aside; the very space between them ripped opened as Radu flung that cruel and torturous weapon toward the face of Thibor.  Every ounce of strength was pushed forward and focused within his attack.  With each and every blade; from the scythe-like appendages; to the steel spikes that grew from the knuckles; the serrated blades that jutted forth from around his wrist; all crafted for the ripping and tearing of flesh...to leave wounds that would tax the strength of Thibor's leech; leaving it near exhaustion.

[The End of All Light.]

[align=justify:8e72e0b402]Standing there with gauntlet screaming to end this fools life… one whom had nothing but small man syndrome and delusions of grandiose power that would never be his, nor within his grasp. He was not Wamphyri, for that act upon their own self-preservation; therefore any intelligent Wamphyri would know that if they did not act accordingly to the reaction thus far received…he was soon to become another statistic. One of many who fell to the predator’s caress of steal and vitae and Thibor’s sense of importance was ludicrous, that any formidable creature would lower themselves to beg to an even bigger pompous asinine weren’t worthy to survive in such a cut throat world- best slaughter the lamb before other wolves in to take care prey that is already wounded. Thibor’s lack of response to a swift attack, that anyone could have easily avoided… crashing and slashing to drain the very essence Thibor held so preciously. The power source was null, statically made unstable by the powerful electromagnetic discharge…

The emancipation of creating a type of short circuit, an abnormal electrical path interfering with the ‘normal’ current and the source of energy which in this case is Thibor’s main power source. Chaotic and warped void essence already established to interfere and begin breaking down protons and atoms, discharges similar to that of nuclear proportions, fusion releasing the counteracting energy in the nuclei of the power source though more focused and placed in its structural center. Since Thibor’s power source was the ‘main’ presence of energy, a natural reaction and the flow of chain-reaction proceeding- nihility… there was no immediate attack from Atra it was Radu who was immediate threat, though not for long- she already knew of a weakness being forced away from his quintessence by some energy shield of protection? Not even that would protect his internal being for long. Infectious spores carousing throughout the dank Aerie.

No shadow or tendril of darkness would go unexplored by these microscopic hazards of Atra’s own leprous plague. Dark divulgence to what could have been an amicable congregation had it not been for an overweening ego and feeble whimsy… big ideas but not enough gusto to bring them into fruition. Castle’s in the sky, or whatever other fanciful ideologies were construed to bring a mind into total decay, insanity or was it simply that Thibor kept himself safe from the world to avoid perishing… burrowing away deep beneath the crust like a blind worm seeking Elysium from the studious eye of the Red-Breasted Robin? What about the black harbinger of death… the Raven? And even the mockingbird standing before him was a formidable presence to reckon with, how she had evaded his sights all those years, giving him no clue that she sought nothing of his companionship… only that of his demise. The first warning had already been given ”If it had been me, you’d be dead already!”

His own shallowness and wallowing in false prides had permitted this little metaphor to totally elude his perceptions and Atra was beginning to wonder if he had anything to offer other than ranted words signifying nothing? Endearing though, how little he really understood anything… and with this great equation of his one would think he had the answers to everything, even life itself. Noiric-diamant effluence resplendence shinning throughout the blackness of those frozen mirrors in seizure, gyrating universes being dragged through those potent nebulous blackholes, extinguishing suns, and the multitudes of dying worlds crying out to the vain gods they venerated only to be received by…nothing. Callous embraces smothering the babes as their jugulars were held in the maws of ravenous wolves- so many existences already in death-kneel only to engorge on their own bitter end.

It would be Thibor on his knees not for her to hear his pitiful begging and pleadings… execution was all she sought from the likes of the worthless such as he. Radu’s words went unheard as if they simply did not register through her own seething anger that defied all rationality or refined sophistication of acknowledgement- did she even care for such ominous words that no doubt made many others cringe… except for her. No creature of hell, heaven or even the void would make her take a step back and consider her own actions, there was none to consider. Mayhem was all abound and it has been by her hand and will that it had been done. Radu’s strike was undefined by the red she now saw in her eyes; whether his target had been made and carried out all she saw was the fury, the rage and the passion to kill… her objective Thibor and the swirling venoms his resources fought to safeguard.

Destroying the last remaining field would flourish those toxins through his body, once again though this time the means to equalize would be permanently removed. When Radu’s attack flowed, she would encounter an attack of her own simultaneously, once his gauntlet had passed or contacted flesh and bone, she would incite her own wounds or intent of fatally wounding; not playing around and meaning business in all its heinous glory. Celerity matching that of both Radu and Thibor… equally initiated and thus activated to arrive at Thibor’s left side. Elbow being drawn back as strength prepped itself to be unleashed with a forward stabbing action, wrist turning from the inside outwards in a slight forty-five degree angle. The intended target was for the center of where he exposed the contamination to be. Driving the silver fangs through his flesh and through the shield canceling out its healing or protective qualities and permitting her weapon to unleash the quarantine of his contamination; the poison to savagely ravish through his veins.

Twisting and thrusting towards it’s target, though not ceasing the onslaught should impact be made, the gauntlet would be forced viciously upwards, breaking through cartilage, bone, muscle and organs regardless if they had been altered to sustain his life; the tear would take the extent of disembowelment and total spine evisceration if no means of defense or block made by her opponent. Oblivious to the fact of Radu’s position, all she cared for was the kill and the means to end this infantile argument and stale amusement… Thibor had served his purpose and now that he was required to do was die by her hand; at least then Atra knew it would be done properly and without fault and any means of ever being resurrected. All his clones would perish to the virus now plaguing the Aerie, attacking anything made from the flesh including his clones, ogre’s, warbeasts, vats, flyers, slaves and servants- anything constructed from live flesh and viscera and soon he too would be joining them…[/align:8e72e0b402]

[The End of All Light.]

[align=justify:62067aa05d]Spinning elaborately in the midst of her attack, gauntlet and fingered armor slashing and slicing in unison with the strike perfectly synchronized. Abysmal arms unleashing from the mass of black that gathered all around, eager to consume and although Atra knew the void would have no immediate or harmful effect on Radu, she knew it could act as a minor deterrence to aid her in other endeavors within Thibor’s Aerie; even though it was slowly crumbling to the massive weight now bearing down upon it, asphyxiating all the life from within, infected. The arcane plague spreading, destroying everything in its path and blossoming into a black chrysalis. In a matter of sheer moments it would be no more, not even a hole in the ground, just simply nothing… like it never existed. The void counteracting with the equation set by Thibor’s own feeble attempt to attack Radu, backfiring only to reverse that of creation including himself- and oh what a pity! Gauntlet hitting its target, one after the other before Atra backed away into the shadows… blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, a little wound and not the damage manifested earlier thanks to rapid regeneration.

Infuriation only made this game even more interesting, he was her lover… that wasn’t to denied from a truthful word, but the creature Atra had become was more deceitful and spiteful- tenderness and sadomasochism added interesting spices to their relationship… basically betrothed to the other, by the rings they both wore on the appropriate finger. Right or wrong, by rape or enjoyment… perhaps even both nothing would change her infidelity. Not that guilt weighed heavy on her heart, it was more for the desire to push Radu’s buttons and see if he truly had what it took to possess her, or even if he wanted to. Theirs was a sick and twisted passion, contorted by desires of the flesh and poisonous sins explored and experienced over their bodies like some perverse laboratory experiment. Atra made no attempt to hide her thoughts or actions, even boldly extended portions of it for Radu to witness in rapid flashes like mind-pulsations of electrical imagery. Faces faded and obscure just for the annoyance or not knowing if it was her or someone else, or even if she was simply messing with him; mind games.

”Not tonight lover…I have a headache!” Eyes rolling in mockery, back sliding against the wall only to elaborately pivot around the corner, merging with the rapturous shadows as snide chuckles escaped betwixt amorous and treacherous apertures; it was just so delicious to be this cruel and no doubt Radu himself would return the antagonism… for that is what she wanted. Atra wanted to ‘see’ and ‘feel’ his passion, just like she used to before things turned cold and no longer did they bask in the others immoral embrace. Temper flaring, gauntlet flexed to destroy, lashing out to strike those attempting to flee. Throats ripped open by the hunger flaring from her core, fangs biting deep into flesh to drain her victim’s dry, hearts torn from capillaries only to be devoured like banquet fruits. Heads decapitated, holes punctured through from stomach to back then tearing out the backbone from the gaping orifices. Each sashayed step brought a new death: slaves, warbeasts or loyal servants that belonged to the Lord known as Thibor, fallen and belittled like the pitiful whelp he was. The only insult that had ensued this evening was his festering lecherous presence and the futile claims of her belonging to anyone… Atra would never succumb to ownership.

If any wanted her to be theirs, and theirs alone they would have to make her, show their worth to make her submit to the declaration; she was a prize that wouldn’t be so easy to obtain. For now Atra preferred betrayal and treachery, they were fools to trust her to begin with for not once did her mouth utter words of complete dedication. Another onslaught of legions fell to her gauntlet, fangs and claws… the fire in her blood portending through those burning sunsets of frankincense and asphodel. Vitae dripping over the womanly contours of her heaving bodice and slender curved waist… toes pointed before the balls of her foot followed, elegantly one after the other, stepping over the dying who reached up to tug at her leathered attire only to be met with one single foul swoop of silver salvation. Begging only to be embraced by a colder savior than the Lord they had known. Lithe limbs purring from the kill, working her way throughout the entire Aerie until nothing of her visible image remained… soaked in blood from head to foot.

Ichor splattered Goetic banners dripping over milky satin landscapes, diminutive physique quivering from the exhilaration, her entire epitome oozing with sadistic sex appeal and prowess- extending those void-like tentacles to encroach and expand, amplifying and escalating to cause those blackened chasms to begin engulfing to total decimation. Every step that brought a dull echo began to crumble away; piece by piece the monument would become this legacies mausoleum… a death pit for the damned. There was nothing left here to imbibe, Atra had drank her fill and now lay to elated intoxication, tottering to the haunted minuet of death rattle and gasp. Senses soaring beyond that of rationality, even to the verge of disorientation from gluttonous rhapsody while abominable gauntlet scraped against frozen stone creating shrill metallic laughter… remerging on the outside to riposte and watch the final performance of her destructive will. Fluidly spinning to face the last decay, arms limp against her side while eyes heralded pernicious lusts fragrantly monstrous by any standards. The accolade of surging black from overhead signified the triumph of plans well executed and the weakest link now severed.[/align:62067aa05d]