Vassal of War
It was typical by now. His unwavering injustice as the Gods themselves spite him like a puppet. His limitations reached, he had no means to halt their manipulation with him. Time and time again his advantages over worlds, to conquer, to destroy, obliterate and consume handed over by the very beings that swore to never intervene. His stature hulking over, a shadow of flesh that consumed the very light that warmed at his naked back as he sat disgruntled on a worn stone. His figure was large, noticeably so even as he slouched, elbows to knees as his body husked with a dangled head. White locks, thick and whisp with the wind covering his beautiful face, markless with furrowed white brows and jumping teal orbs. To any that approached him he would seem distant, unaware of the world around him, and this was partially true. He was waiting.
"A champion... They always come, they always boast. I need.... My ego needs it.... I want to see it again, to hear that cry of fear as they lose hope." The hunger near gritting addiction as he chewed at his lip. His eyes darted through the soil and eat between his toes, far beyond the material, haunted with ever-looping thoughts of his home reality. This place like all the others was not home, it looked like home, smelled like home, and could one day be home. But that was the cowards way out, to accept and move on, this burden of despair that weighted over his shoulders the very Deities that bound him might find like a weakness, but to him, it showed their weakness, their fear of him.
"Oh mother of the Webs, I will return and take what is mine in your name. I am not a child of love, but destruction. I am not a child of right, but desire. I am a tool, a blade to puncture and sever." That mammothing figure, far too large for your average Drow stood at a towering 6'8" of bulking muscles, naked if not for the loin cloth so loosely tied to his hips.
"I will cut my way through the 9 hells if I have to and free you of the shackles those cowardice traitors have buried you in." A fire in his eyes, his heart racing as his boasted ready, moral unbroken, with a sense of irritation and hunger about his aura. If one could only see his physical, they would see a beautiful Drow male, the Idol-specimen mortal that stood like a God, unrelenting with an indomitable Will. His body lacked the visible scares of experienced combatants, but his eyes, those eyes grit with a bloody path of onslaught.
"Bring what you will, whomever you may feel is worthy by fate or chance. It didn't stop me before, it wont stop me now." 5 pulsing orbs, subtle in size and intensity misplaced about his body throbbing to life in harmony before subsiding with a deep inhale. It was life, each of the orbs separate sentience of pure chaos attached like parasites to the host as one. Son to a High-Priestess of Lolth, his ego knew no bounds though severed from the ley-lines of Magic. His inability due to an unfortunate blessed past that transformed him forever-more into the demeanor Amorphous-Symbiont. A shapeshifter able to consume his surroundings, or even reproduce from his own organic body weapons of destruction. (Hope that will do for an intro, again I'm a bit rusty.)
Edit: Added font color to speech and fixed misspells.
Last edited by Conspiracy.Poet; 08-03-2013 at 04:37 PM.
The way of Balance.
And he walked, barefoot and bare chested, his emerald orbs continuing to survey the landscape before him. The place he found himself in was very unique, it would have been barren were it not for the pillars of rock that jutted from the earth, the stony fingers reaching towards the sky as if trying to escape whatever hell laid below.
Like large redwoods the stony pillars created a forest of a sort, though Ryuku thought of it as a much more unforgiving and brutal forest, without the quaint sounds that normally accompanied such a setting. The silence that hung in the air was broken by the whistling of the wind, and at this point in time the sound of the monk walking, searching.
He remained silent, but his mind raced with the words the old man had told him. 'He would find what he sought in the Grindstones,' he trusted the strange hermit despite the cryptic words. It would require patience he reminded himself, and likely no small amount of luck to find the True Challenge, the true test of his skills.
His silver colored hair whipped about him as the breeze, deflected off the many stone columns, swirled about him on its snake like course. It was in those whispers that he heard something else, a whisper, a voice saying something that he couldn't decipher. He paused, straining his finely tuned senses, the sound could be coming from anywhere.
“I seek the Challenge!” He said in a loud, strong voice that would carry and reverberate off the stone pillars. He then waited, listening and stretching out his other senses, particularly his ability to sense the life force of another creature.
(Works for me, wasn't sure on the 'exact' setting, so I set something up in more detail. Hope that works.)
Last edited by Taoofbalance; 08-03-2013 at 05:25 PM.
Reason: added OOC
Vassal of War
The words were inaudible by the time they ricochet from pillar to pillar to meet his ears. The voice, male perhaps, lost within the confines of this maze of stone, it was impossible to direct the location of its source. Teeth grit, grinding maw with a clinching jaw as the excitement surged through his blood again. It's always like this, maddening predictions of the same situation would leave most baffled like a purgatory of conflict, but he looked forward to it.
"Meet me at the top where I can see you." His voice once again calming, a darkness about his throaty demand booming with his commanding tone to cut through the echo. He himself sizing up the scale of pillars before him before jolting into a running start, slamming his bare feet into the cold slabs to momentum up the vertical surface. His figure reached almost 20 feet in his gallop only to slow to a near stop before his fingers hooked through ripped flesh to anchor his body mid-height up the climb. One hand after the other, bloody nubs wearing with every press to climb trailing with tiny punctures through the cold stone before he reached the top.
His first mark, a right hand clamping at the top flat surface, covered with blood soaked powder worn from the stony surface, caking over the self-masochistic wounds. His body would follow quickly after, left foot next with a peaking head scouting the horizon for any organic life, the owner of the voice that spoke just previously. With a final heft his body would migrate to the top, planting both feet with a lifting body. Soot covered every portion of his front, the climb leaving his black flesh gray and flat, pasted on from the beads of sweat earned from the impossible climb. He stood, idle and lax, hunched with a weighted slant to his right side with his bare digits dripping their acidic blood around his feet.
(Edit: Remade my post, I wasn't too happy with how I threw the original together)
(Edit II: Misspelling correction)
Last edited by Conspiracy.Poet; 08-06-2013 at 10:08 PM.
The way of Balance.
Ryuku could pick out the words that were spoken back to him, his emerald eyes instantly following the stone pillars to their tops. They varied in their height, with some peaking at twenty feet and others had to be three times that height, Ryuku guessed.
With a practiced movement he leaped to at one of the pillars before him, his feet lightly touching before he uncoiled like a snake, leaping across several feet to another pillar, another ten feet up. A third jump carried him a final ten feet and he landed, in what took a matter of seconds, on the flat weather worn surface of a pillar.
When his bare feet touched down on the stone he noticed the slightly worn texture that the wind and rain hadn't been able to completely wash away. The wavy texture of its top looked like, to Ryuku, a place for firm footing. Were these stone erected for the various purpose of moving on them?
As he lifted his gaze he both saw and felt the other person in the area, the one that had no doubt called out to him. The man was off to his front and right several hundred feet and just now pulling himself over the lip of one such pillar.
The Monk remained quiet, he would wait for the man to compose himself and adjust to his surroundings. No, not man, it was an elf of some kind though it was much, much larger than any elf Ryuku had ever seen. Taller than Ryuku even, who stood an impressive six foot two and weighed nearly two hundred pounds of muscle. This elf was bigger.
Vassal of War
A moment to catch himself and his surroundings, the horizon dotted with variant sized pillars that fed through the landscape as far as his eyes could see. In the distance, mountains with a light gold hue, a reflection indicating fields of dried grass or wheat that most likely gapped between the field of stones and the mountain line.
A large exhale, readied and centered, his right hand lifted with gesturing fingers for his opponent to come, and no sooner he himself would close the gap. His large body lowering down , fingers tracing over the surface of stone with turned in feet, thighs swelling only a moment before exploding with momentum that lunged him forward. Leap after leap, his body stretching over gaps of stone only to land a few more later and continue his acceleration. Bare feet planting with a slap of calice flesh caked with worn stone grain trailing in malestrom that arched in his movements. His body was riddled with the fine dust soaking up portions of gloss sweat, and even found it's way smeared across his face.
No waiting, they always waited, always played the defensive for the upper hand in hopes to use it against him, but at least this one was different. Even in their distance with his body in motion he could pinpoint acute details; vibrant oriental wares, no armor, no weapons, no hints of arcane licking about his target's persona. Ryuku's calm center was refreshing, not egotistical like the many before, no boast of power about his stance, or deluded attempts to morally dress to impress or intimidate.
"I think I will let you live!" His words jitter against his teeth with the next landing before taking one last leap. His speed would reveal nothing spectacular, but a near grace in his hulking size as he threw himself so easily into the air, lunging haphazardly into his next destination without pause, wreckless, uncaring. His landings were heavy, one could almost feel a shutter on the earth as they watched him throw his full weight into the impact only to leap once more with every passing moment. His loose shoulders caused his limbs to flail into the stone columns time and time again without care, breaking bits of flesh, bruising and even splintering portions of bone under his fleshy organ.
With his final landing his momentum would shift, landing on the closest edge of the slanted column only to slide to a halt at the far end. Toes curling in to grip the edge in order to break his forward motion, his upper body still throwing forward and off the edge, flinging towards the next pillar. Right foot twisting loose to the vertical side of the pillar for a push off and carrying through his hip and right stretching arm. Fist clinched with no care in the world to harming himself, his body would go past the breaking point, past it's natural limits as it slammed against the pillar. A loud and audible crack resounding through the field of stone, though his figure too low now to be visibly seen crashed into the stone with full force. At the near highest point of the specific pillar the pivot of weight would cause the structure to crack at the base falling in the direction of it's last push, toward Ryuku.
The man was in no direct danger, too far away, a little under half a dozen pillars away as the one began to fall, a heavy thud and crack heard again as it impacted into another, unable to domino as it began its decent along with the Drow still latched and mangled with it. If Ryuku could visibly see the Drow, his body was anchored to the slowly spinning, and quickly falling stone with a smile on his face; Madness.
The way of Balance.
The Drows words carried on the slight breeze and Ryuku hear them clearly. 'Let me live?' The Monk thought to himself. A smile played its way across his face and touched his eyes, it was a genuine smile and held no mockery or cruel intentions.
He had learned at a young age that you must first defeat your opponent in your mind before you could defeat him on the battlefield. Clearly this Drow had done just that; however, so had Ryuku. That would simple not do, there could be only one winner.
The burst of speed that followed the Drows movements was nothing impressive, but nor was it something to be scoffed at. Fey like creatures always seemed to have a natural grace about them, able to move in a way that could not be imitated. This Drow was no different in that matter. What was different was the obvious power behind each leap, every bound spoke of strength and determination. Brutality was the word that came to Ryukus mind.
With a liquid grace born from a century of practice Ryuku also move forward, his feet barely seeming to touch the ground as he leaped forward with what seemed an effortless strides, his speed matching that of his opponents, that smile never leaving his lips.
The Drow momentarily vanished, dropping below sight. But there was no question as to what his motives were, the speed and power in which he was moving prior meant only one thing, and those suspicions were proved true when Ryuku heard stone crack and saw as the pillar began to tumble.
Unsure as to what his opponents plan was Ryuku came to a stop a dozen or so pillars away, though he remained in a low fight stance, ready to spring away at a moments notice. Was there even a plan to this Drows attack or was it merely a creature acting on the chaos that the race was so known for? Ryuku didn't know, he couldn't know yet.
Vassal of War
The impact was loud, unearthing as it shook through the field, an explosion of dust unsettled from the earth no sooner, lifting 20 feet high and scaling over 100 feet wide almost instantly, only to continue further. His body now covered from head to toe, hidden beneath the blanket of off-white powder as it laid a moment gathering itself. His jaw split open as it laid shifted across the pillar, the bones from his digits ripped clean from the flesh and tendons leaving vulgar holes of what remained as his tips still chipped into the stony figure.
His composure didn't take long, seconds if at all before sliding into a low stance to observe the area around him, nothing visible. His eyes caked in the unsettled dust cleaned over by newly formed membranes of thin translucent organ, shedding away any unwanted dirt. An exhale, slow and steady as his body relaxed, unswelling the joints as he began to step forward on solid ground, body adjusting, tremorsense reconfiguring through his footsteps. The world around him still covered in dust now beginning to outline pillars and vibration, subtle movements deep under the earth, the shake from the falling pillar still idle as it resounds through the distance, giving him an absolute clear sight of his prey. It would echo through the organic body the moment the stone hit the ground, its shudder felt for miles.
Within those moments of re-aligning his body to see through vibration, his body was at work reconstructing other means. The empty sockets slowing the blood lose as they began to fill with something that resembled cotton soaking with the red vitals of his internal anatomy. Webbing, the hollowed points in his digits filled with steel-strength webbing that puffed out centimeters from the exposed wound. A lowered hulk to his body before jetting off, thighs once again bursting with strength to carry him forward, bouncing from pillar to pillar with a subtle silence leaving behind a connection of web between each one. The dust itself still swirling and at the height of its rise would leave no truly visible path to his motions. He was surrounding his prey and even further more, moving quick to cover as much surface as one could. The webs would have a secondary use. Every pillar they touched would resonate any movement back to him like a beacon.
(Holy shit what a horrible post...)
The way of Balance.
A clash of stone on stone, the jarring of the earth, and large cloud of dirt and dust was all that Ryuku heard, felt, and saw a moment after the Drow plunged to the earth. The plan, at least part of it, quickly became apparent to the monk as his vision was severely hindered, he closed his eyes to prevent the dust from stinging them and instead relied on his other senses. Particularly his ability to sense the Qi that all living creatures had.
The Drows erratic movements, the round about way in which he leaped from stone pillar to stone pillar, but never coming to close to his prey lead Ryuku to believe that he also had someway of knowing where the monk was at all times. Still, why take the route he was taking, was it more chaos?
He stood from his fighting stance and focused his own Qi, bringing both hands near his own naval and head down as he began to focus, humming ever so lightly as he did. Like the calm in the storm Ryuku remained unwavering and unflinching has the dust and his enemy moved about him.
If the Drow had a way to sense Qi than he would know that Ryuku was gathering it from all around him as well as centering his own, which could only lead to one thing in the near future. An external application of the subtle energy. If not, than it would seem that the monk had entered some sort of prayer as he stood erect, heads down, and hands held like a cup at his naval.
(No worries here, I enjoyed reading it.)
Vassal of War
If the Monk could read the energy of living things, it would seem off, almost voidal when it came to looking for the Drow. He wasn't living, or dead for that matter, but a subtle trail of energy residue his ever previous step; perhaps he wasn't of this realm, or this universe. The static of chaos below the Monk was near complete, seconds more of planting the buds that connected to each pillar as the webbing was complete. Most of them coiled the pillars in fine webs that still connected to individual digits. One after the other, all ten would be in line randomly connected as they tightened around the stone column the Monk stood on. Thin, almost unnoticeable by the human eye what little reflection they would normally have was now flat from the unsettled dust.
His motion halted just below the Monk's pillar, his hand pressing against the cool stone as he looked up, with a final moment of composure before the act began. Once again a leap, his body traveling up the pillar of stone as his body suddenly burst free from the still rising and expanding unsettle of stone. It was far from quiet, easy to hear as he past the monk and continued upward into the air and a jerk of his hands crossing over his chest. Like a puppeteer he pulled the strings, the sound of tightening cord humming from every angle as they reached their limit at the pull cutting slightly at first before fully slicing through column after column. Each of them slipping on their once solid foundation following, spinning, toppling over. Everything within the 100 food radius of Ryuku was on it's way down. The momentum was carried to the floor by each of them leaving the possibly unprepared Monk no sure footing to jump off of, and a spiral of jerked razor-like web coiling from every direction colliding in his direction.
Xion's body was aiming high, a leap that would leave him far above the still growing cloud that would inevitably irritate even large from the chain reaction to come. Below the Monk jagged cut portions of stone falling in the dozens-per pillar were making there way to the earth, pilling over one another and leaving insecure, dangerous footing that could possibly be beyond his Qi vision. He could see it all, but nothing at all. His mind playing out as he looked over the surface of dust that caught the wind above the majority scraping tops of the stone cylinders moving to the west where the breeze would take it.
The way of Balance.
Confusion. It was the word to describe what Ryuku was feeling when he sensed the strange, ghostly, presence of the Drow. It wasn't a living being like most, and it wasn't a void of nothingness like undead seemed to be. Nor was it the foreign Qi like essence that some other creatures had, this was unique.
What is it? Ryuku wondered for a moment. A moment that cost him dearly as he literally fell into the spider trap. He had felt, sorta, the Drow rush by him, ensnaring him in a trap that the Monk did not fully comprehend. Still the subtle movement of the stone pillar shifting before it started to topple and crash, Ryuku standing upon its surface still, was enough to alert the 'nearly' always ready monk.
With the stones crashing down he knew that he would not be able to kick off the stone without expending the Qi he had been gathering. He could fall he knew, but to what end? Something the Drow had done not only caused his pillar to fall but all of those around him as far as he could hear. Chaos ensued.
The monk, still within the confines of the dust and debris plunged down and instead focused intently on a different technique, one that he could only use for a very limited time, it was a technique Ryuku had merely dubbed a 'spirit form', an ethereal state that could not be maintained longer than a minute a day. It was one of the greatest techniques that he could perform, but it required Qi to do it, and it was not something he could do on the fly. Luckily, he had been channeling his Qi and though it had originally been for a different purpose this seemed as good as any to use it.
So Ryuku fell, his ethereal state passing through boulders and debris alike, the likes of this world not affecting him as he hit the ground and everything came crashing down around him. The world shook and quaked, but the Monk felt nothing and saw only more dust and debris as it went by, around, and through him.
He remained focused though, and as quickly as it happened it ended, leaving Ryuku standing in a pile of broken stones. With an effort of will he willed his form up and off to the side several dozen yards, there he stood staring up at where the Drow had leaped into the air, his form once again became solid, and his emerald eyes locked to where that strange signature was.
“Come, fight me.” He spoke up into the air.