A Clash of Worlds....

[The End of All Light.]

Posted by Nebula Nyxian:

The two front towers rose into the sky as his silent steps pounded the dampened mound. 2 Years, His travel had been arduous, His resolve broken on every occasion that grabbed his attention. With such anger the Weaver had fallen from his grace, Landing into the pit of a land.

Silently he stood, The wet earth beneath his masculine frame sinking lightly, The dew sliding, Curling and falling from beneath leather bound feet. The eye's of the weaver were cast upon the structure of this, The Castle Of Darkbane, A rising fort in the near distance. Ahh the memory's of those he had known, The bitterness of there back stabbing youth. Gracious he is to finally have found this wasteland.

With a mocking laugh that pierced the air like hot steel to flesh he began his advance, The tendrils that syphoned informetion through the chasms of his mind fluttering into life, His semi curled hands circling in opposite motions as if to ward off the invisible enemy. Piercing Crimson pupils fixed only upon the monolith ahead. Ahh how he had wished this day was sooner, The day when he should return and hell itself would seem a friendly place. The muscles in back ached with each now thudding step, Loosened blades of grass flying upward as foot hit earth.

From this distance he would be seen as only a shadow, And soon that shadow would advance and all that crossed it's path will be eradicated. The mocking grin on pale lips seem to light his blackened soul as the words seep from deep within, To cut the air with a malice unknown.... "Hello Darkbane....Im back"

[stream:8f52ac0358]http://song2play.com/play/song_133997.asx[/stream:8f52ac0358]

[The End of All Light.]

What brought such twisted fates back to this decrepit place, where nightmares and dreams both collided on the stratosphere of shattered remains? Why would one such as this return without anything to offer to arouse those whom sleep beneath the ruins, deep beneath the chthonian chambers of forgotten memory? Nothing mattered no more, not the temple... forbidden... lost to the new world. Nothing to the tattered reminiscence of those whom once stood in glory- to caress the night with such loving and depraved embraces; it all meant simply meant nothing... to no one... especially the one whom stood so resplendent before, but now... lingered in the shadows, waiting for something she could never have, nor find the voice to demand it. What purpose or passion could be found in what no longer existed? Bitter feuds... bequeathed death in the sombre shades of moonlight ethereal fingers, unspoken words no longer revered only mocked.

Having stirred among the scant plethora wreathes of shadow, entwining vesper pets around svelte limbs like affectionate serpents, ever so affectionate... perhaps the most faithful lovers of all for not even shadow ever left you; unlike so many. Bitter spent, bitter affections... it all meant nothing to the one who cared no longer? mot even a single sanguine tear to shed or that ebony heart to beat with the ardent throngs of affection... or love. But then, not even she was capable of love, having been shown the complete opposite all through her lifetimes of self-sacrifice to please those whom didn't deserve the penance or the pensive breath of consideration... it had all been for inanition, desertedness.

Quiescence, subdued abysmal eyes fluttering open, revealed from behind eclipsed beautiful shades of ophidian tenebrosity- shimmers stabbing through the disquiet of someone disturbing that eternal slumber in the arms of a colder comfort; ebony satin and wintry crypt, beneath the snow beaten landscapes which died? when she placed herself in the peacefulness of death. Wreathes of wilted and dried black roses adorning the catacombs- once sweetly perfumed, once alive and vibrant in their potency? now exempt; had it not been enough to simply allow the past to sleep, to brood forever in her own perpetual nightmares, for that was only when she had ever felt truly at home? on the breath of a nightmare, on the throes of insanity.

Miasma infused breath escaped twixt stone lips- vaporous tendrils escaping like spectral sylphs into the hyperborean ambiance; delicate and diaphanous? escaping that imprisonment of necrosis. Atramentous cascades of ravenesque coiffure flowing over bare alabaster shoulders? lithe and draped in the guise of darkness and gossamer. Around the slender nape, a single black ruby glistened, that which had once been the Stone of Colvin granted to all of those whom were embraced as Pandora?s children and later infused with the Dimmu?s essence, the Avatar of Darkbane- the Nameless. Pale delicate hands gripping the side of the sarcophagi? weakly pulling herself up at first, permitting that leisure of acquaintance- welcoming the brumal embrace to glib along ivory milky porcelain limbs.

Slowly pulling herself to that standing innovation, long tiers of lace and gossamer falling over sultry and seductive contours in sheer unsurpassed elegance, left slender leg ascending only to step aside to the black marble stairs- like a portrait springing to life? a poignant Black Madonna rising from the infernal conflagration of adumbration. Gown trailing behind each well placed sauntered step, hips swaying in a voodoo pendulum gait? insubstantial and ephemeral. Torches erupting to vivacious flame as she sashayed past, each erupting in spiritual blue essence? quintessence soaring beyond the black obsidian walls, seeking the one whom disturbs the only peace she had ever known?

Craving madness leaping, nefarious intent exhuming and suffocating the oxygen within the atmosphere- black clouds racing across the sky darkening the land surrounding the castle? burnt and charred by the massacres unleashed in the name of this death clan, a name once feared and perhaps could be again if the accolade was tempting enough to her palate. Cacophonous grinning winds of hatred spiralling across the landscapes gathering the ashes in thrombosis ? howls and tormented screams unfurling? the only words spoken, nebulous and sultry? ?Quisnam es vos turbo ceterus ab meus atrum animus? Quisnam es vos audeo suscitatio ut quod nunquam ingredior orbis terrarum? Quisnam es vos turbo meus pacis? Narro iam. vel intereo!?

[The End of All Light.]

Posted by Ladislas:

In the time of dormancy, Ladislas himself had entered a phase of necronomius sombulance, form slowly transpiring into obsidian hardness, molecular structure absorbing the material of ancient stone to solidify in statuesque formation, a stone effigy perched looking outwards from the high ramparts in guardianship of perusal until such time as breath plumed from her lips. On the first indications of revitalisation, the warmth of gathered sun would aspire within this form of grotesque appearance, unbinding its essence from granite back to flesh, the process speeded by the energies stored in the existential core of his consciousness, mind becoming completely aware before flesh would fully gather itself back into the form in which this secretive creation would emerge.

A cracking sound, like crumbling masonry and from his exterior, dust would fall as from within this goblin shaped stature a man would rise, tall and dark with eyes os liquid silver, breathing rushing inwards to fill his lungs and gaze expanding outwards to perceive what change had occurred since he had taken this form. The only thing he knew for certain was that she had awoken and on that basis, this it was time again for action, time again to stretch forth his perceptions into relevance and go to wherever she stood.

Stepping lightly off the parapet into a window, entering a room cloaked in darkness, eyes requiring no light since he carried his own flaming visions within, gathering his rich aubergine cloak about his form for he found such places cold, yet in some way fascinating, walking through the silence to seek and discover she whom had summoned him by her inspiration, ancient walls holding secrets and whispering unto his thoughts.

Shadowy tendrils wrapping around his feet as he walked, difficult to say if feet touched the floors in his striding, eyes remaining locked dead ahead to his goal, Ladislas bound by his ethic or perhaps his honour, such a strange and unusual concept which had already caused the death of one supposedly far greater then himself, but neither matter was of import for this was the dawning of the darkest of days, the most glorious of conceptualisations and Ladislas would be a part unto the disintegrative chaos that would impart itself upon this world.

Stepping silently onto a long and well ordained staircase, his sense of smell perceiving the scent of her flesh, eyes reducing from glowing silver orbs to a more normal appearance of humanity, still uncertain as to where he was or how long his dormancy had existed, jaw line set in severe countenance, moving with greater swiftness, near running until he heard the echo of her words and entering where she stood in all her glory he bowed low and spoke "Ex fervidus per of vita nex reperio suus via tergum in orbis terrarum" then raising to look upon her "I am here, how may I serve..."

[The End of All Light.]

Posted by Ravenswing:

Time had passed as he waited in the chill eternal silence, watching fools come and go, watching those whom claimed loyalty continue in their self focused lusting and debauch. He would wait for only two things would draw him forth, one being her return, the other being an attack from exterior forces, but he was getting close to allowing a third aspect to return him to the lands on which he held a guardianship whom only one had the right to revoke. The insanity that claimed to be rulers had disturbed Uriel?s ire and in the fleeting moments during which these events transpired, Uriel found his rage growing, it would not be long before he could contain it no longer and something would have to break.

A disturbance ringing through the crystalline formations of the ethereal planes, an awakening of energies resounding like a gong, and Uriel immediately became alert, his eyes sharp in undefinable contrasts, fires burning beneath the orbs of midnight, wings ravenesque wings unfurling and his voice would echo throughout the millennia as he shouted ?THY WILL BE DONE? in resonance to the concordance of her presence, the sonorous booming of his vocalised thought booming.

Wings outstretched, with a powerful thrust of musculature his form lifted from its? place of watchfulness and he began flying through the layers of time and space, the matrix of eternities ponderances in the direction of where she stood, mind extending to sift through the endless realities to discover exactly where she stood, grinning with savage intention, for Death, like chaos was her true companion and truth be known Uriel had missed this creature of dark and stormy intentions. Missed her more then he would ever admit to any one or anything.

Breaking through the final matrices to the material plane on which she stood, pausing to float high above the land and take in everything before allowing his wings to fold against his body and plummeting from the sky in the fashion of a meteor, flames erupting around his form with the speed at which he fell until at the last minute massive feathered wings would open and slow his descent and his body swivelling in mid air so that his feet would be pointed down he landed. Striding up to the castle structure, he raised his hands and a mighty blow would extend forwards, bursting the massive doors open, as by her word, nowhere in this land was off limits to him, powerful steps on entering, eyes focused directly on one thing and one thing only, the nebulous presence of her. Moving inside with rapidity until he spotted the one whom he loved above all, he stopped, clasping his wings against his form, coughing to draw her attention, noticing the young male offering service then bowing low, ?Thy guardian is here milady, what is thy will??

[The End of All Light.]

Moving through the mitigations of light and shadows, lengths of black hair gently flowing in turrets, raven?s in delicate fugue to the melody of the tempestuous wind-song. Wreathes of black lace and gossamer billowing, sweeping across the cold ancient stone panels- dust stirring and scattering in the darkness... escaping the curse of her quintessence; for the one who walks the earth when all else still remained... sleeping. Should it have been anyone else?s imminence within the catacombs, their lives would have been slowly vivisected to suit such ravenous needs- carnivorous writhes gyrating in the pitch inkiness of the penumbral epitome. Oceans of hatred and pain singing through those thirsty veins- dark-liquored eyes drifting over the crumbling desolated dark-spheres of this treacherous kingdom built on the pinnacles of fools and crucified bloodlines... but then as they say, ignorance is bliss to idiocy.

The night air was welcoming, that gnarled caress stroking along embittered pallid features, perfuming those senses with new fragrances for life, existence had changed, the world had changed- and all she could hope for was that it had been for the better. Old faces nothing but portraits on blackened walls from age, or even respectfully heads impaled on sticks in honour of those betrayed... but there time would come, it always eventually does to those whom deserve the justice of hells flames. Still, with a pale delicate hand, waving those thoughts aside, there were more important things that the flimsy doubts of the world, or the small minds which permeate it. Reposed, resplendent in the throng of moonlight and violent elements clashing against the other... storms raging, the angels dying to a new breed of torment and horror- it was all too enthralling to the awakened emotions and senses... like the fire of wine teasing the palate, to come out and play...

Familiar voices haunting... drifting in undulation across the psychic pall of that obscure mind, lashes of spectral tendrils pulled forth from the very egregore of that which dwelled within from the pits of despair... from the void which had contained that precious and most potent venoms of Bodom; the blackened ichors of the Dimmu entwined with that of yet another, the Wamphyri. But, that mattered not, lineage or heritage meant nothing in this foul and corrupt place- the stench of poisoned blood rotting the reason to care about family or ties- having the profanity of such forbidden things even to those who bore the name... they too would be cursed by the natures of their sin- dealt by their own hands of destruction, the plague which putrefied their hearts from ebony benediction to nothing but blasphemy... corrupting the lines, her inner and most darkest of natures and soon she would seek revenge on their blood... not hers.

Voices carried on the unfurling winds... muted rhymes spoken in archaic tongues- licking through the cacophony of howls and spectral screams- crossing the threshold of nightmare and reality... melting through the black glass of the mirrors surface; midnight pools disembowelling the serenity. Long slender sallow arms parting the ethereal sea from behind the reflecting portal, twisting adroit wrists as if inviting the chosen ones to perish... to the dance. Satin gown sweeping, long slender limber legs exposed through the thigh length slits in the tourniquet of night and beauty- unravelled by the coveted sanctuary from beyond... it?s existence never known by those of the new-blood... not the ancients. Voices etched with madness coercing... shadows unleashing, ebony tentacles unfurling to taste the air like flickering serpents- whether they struck with mithril fangs to extinguish life was entirely on the ones who dare speak when the question had been rhetorical.

?Tamen quis talis dulcis communico! Vos narro atqui , illic es haud lacuna EGO atque non specto. Muneris quod fidelitas eram usquequaque in vestri cruentus talis e dedecus plures nanc non idem eadem idem rectum vel probitas. Vos utriusque vadum exsisto remuneror. tamen non per os ab meus presentia , pro EGO sum tamen spiritus ab nex quod EGO nunc adeo vindicatum meus praemium.? Eyes glancing over towards Ladislas and Uriel; a slender ebony eyebrow ascending with the action of scrutiny and curiosity, for what business brought these two here to this forsaken place?

[The End of All Light.]

Posted by Nebula Nyxian:

*Darkness, A familiar friend encircling the sky, Charred patterns racing across the open expanse of desolate land. Such a change in appearance simply hightens the anger that flows so freely throught-out his concious mind, Twisting and contorting with anguish and rage. dilated pupils flitter in all directions, The folics across te base of his arms twitching with movement from inside the castle, Each footfall of the occupants like cataclysmic explosion in his eyes, Such perception more a hiderance than blessing.

With silent step he ventures deeper into the open ground, The fortess but 1000m away, Looming like the decrepid decaying tomestones of the astral expanse. Underneath the half crept steps the hard soil and remains of what was never pure earth simpley crumbles, desperatly wanting re-birth. Cool air almost ripples off the loose hanging rag that qualify for his attire, Billowing within a some what warm breeze, A feeling of euphoria almost spilling from natures sweet whispers.

With resolute tone he speaks up in the voice of the thousand dead, The warriors of t-mah, The astral gardians of eons past. His voice cascading then pitching in freak bursts, Attacking the senses of those who should hear "I have come for my revenge.... You have taken from me and i shall take back". His bloodied right hand curling into a fracture fist as he waits, watches and listens. This shall be his release.

[The End of All Light.]

Ebony lace trailed behind her every weighted step, as if the gravity pulled her back down towards the ground, demanding to woo those belated and somnolent senses; as if the world was not yet perfect enough for her dark kiss upon its blackened disquieted flesh.  All her perceptions reached out towards the darkness, wishing to be soothed once again in that shroud of time and space- where nothing existed, only those screams; oh how they sung in her ears, shattering through the hymen of the void- all the souls bequeathed to the fiery penance of her sword from times past... every clash and howl ringing through awareness like the tolling of doomsday bells. Sweet calamity, such sweet and unholy music to behold and treasure in the rapture of deathly arms and emptiness waltzing through the catacombs of her mind; everything turned back to the black... malice and primordial abhorrence... her true unscathed and untarnished self.

Was the world even worth to behold such beauty? Was it any more deserving now than before to experience that raw and thunderous wrath, to crush clans, realms and worlds in the gauntlet of her hand- savouring as all was crushed to nothing but dust and splintered bone; viscera oozing through clenched fist before painted ?pon the lips for later pleasures?
Now, that moment of inner darkness was disrupted by a single voice booming through the perfect blackness, chasing those gossamer serpentine shadows away from her grasping hand and tenebrous embrace, welcomed only by a stranger declaring something she knew not of, words that did not even scathe the surface of eternity or awaken the insatiable craving for blood. It was more like everything became dormant, lingering and waiting for what came this way from her awakening... destruction, pain and sorrow? Yes... those dark fatal lips curving into a sadistic smile as breath whispered twixt ivory incisors, the faintest of whispers pluming through mist and night... ?Yes.... death.... decay and destruction for even my banquet table never throws away its scraps! Shall we dine on the mortal or immortals this most precious dark eve or are those titbits reserved for angels or fools who I have already fallen yet to senile to remain dead? Come, such decadent and treasured pestilence I eagerly await the exchange of metal and blood, yours or mine, it matters not... prey tell, what delights you bring to enlighten me, or is it yet just another fool, making a lot of noise??

She smirked, pace sweeping to the pendulum motion of dark charnel arts, curses dissident... sung in the most mellifluous intonations, almost like a phantom psychopath relaying some fanatical disillusion about devils and demons- mirages of insanity breached in the sirenous song of beauty and cruelty. The sylph of midnight dancing in twirls of black lace and flesh, gyrating miasma and darkness in those seemingly tottered barefooted grace and elegant guile... ball of feet insubstantial, hands gripping the fragments of tiered black, swaying filmy garment with each swivel and dip of hips... sable tresses billowing and cascading around the slender bodice, framing finely chiselled contours and those deep penetrating eyes of obsidian oceans... She heard his words, but she cared little for them, bearing no irrelevance or anything significant to cease the elation of the waking; words only bore significance to those known, there was no respect left in void demeanour and reminiscence, all that was seen was nothing, all that was remembered was nothing... and all the world meant to her was... nothing but death... painful and slow.