NewSun

Orion: New Beginning

࿅

S t a r l i g h t

It has been said that the song of the Cephlon rings eternal in time of strife and sorrow. Certain dedicated Cephlonologists would tell you otherwise; that the song is ever present, always ringing through the heavens like the voice of some cosmological choir of angels. The song can vary, some will hear an inspiring chorus of the most slow, heavenly melodies known to any species that inhabits this mortal realm, and some will hear a song that speaks of unimaginable sorrow: a harrowing tale in music of the sadness of existence. It is not known what causes such variations in what one may hear when exposed to the song, but some believe that it is subjective, and one will hear what one is destined to hear. The scientific value of the term: ‘destiny’ was almost nonexistent before the Cephalrrior revealed themselves to the galactic community at large, it was an idiom that the academics of a thousand worlds would scoff their noses at. But since that day upon which they came from the stars and looked upon us with the eyes of Mothers and Fathers, it became apparent to us that we do not know all there is to know, and if any species were to come close, it would be they.

—

It was within Orion that their greatest period came to be. In that small cluster of stars surrounding Siroivra did they solidify their lasting legacy within the cosmos. It was within a single shaded corner of this region of space, a great giant of the night pulsed and swelled in death throes; a star of slightly-larger-than-sol proportions fell unstable within its final years. It had swollen and bloated with a force that it knew not, it’s surface reddening to the deep hue of blood red fire as it struggled to maintain itself, consuming heavier and heavier elements in a last ditch effort to balance itself. The star feared death, and the Cephalrrior had been there to comfort it in the dying of its light.

The star cries they had spoken to one another. The star does not want to leave this world. Three Titans and twelve Cephalion had hung above the corona of the celestial light for some years, to calm its final moments, to prepare it for the chaos it would become. They were known as the Starlight Cephaol, those philanthropic beasts who dedicated their long lives to the comfort and preservation of the light of the cosmos, the stars themselves.
How many untold times they had been present for the last glimmer of life from a star, and been present to scatter its elemental ashes amongst the void so that new life may emerge from its aftermath. Some young cultures had called them angels, others defined them as their creators; a notion that was not entirely untrue in some cases. Even they, across their long lives, had lost track of just how many had risen up through their seeding of precious elements across the cosmos.

They had learnt so many things from their study of the dying light, precious secrets known to few, and understood by fewer still. To know of the secrets of the universe was their goal, to ensure that it remained calm and collected and peaceful, not to be wracked with fear at the idea of its own mortality. Even the universe was defined by a limit, and each star was a functional part of the universe, an aperture through which everything gazed out upon the undeniable beauty of the cosmic dance.
Perhaps only they could hear the sounds of crying stars. For we certainly cannot. It would be unwise to assume their understanding is only presumed, for the Starlight Cephaol were here long before us, and they will continue to be here after we too have passed into ashes.

They had drifted through Orion for longer than any, when it was empty and static, not alight with the fire of life and motion, when it was just them, sailing through cosmic winds along glistening darkness, unperturbed by what man and his ilk has made of the heavens. So it was not to come as a surprise when the Starlight Cephaol had sung a song to Orion, asking them to pay their respects to the star that had made its home there for longer than any conflict had raged. It came in the form of a song of sorrow, and those who heard it would understand.

The Star is coming to an end, and it fears the day it will die. Pray, beings of this sector, show it that its life was not in vain.

NewSun V ShidenBlades

Not at all, it was a more than sufficient explanation. It was probably my fault for not giving an exact direction of movement. It's been a while since I had any forays into Arena :P

NewSun V ShidenBlades

Arcturios' for a very slight moment, tensed his arm. He did not expect his foe to be capable of movement at such speeds; it was his own fault for not properly evaluating the situation. However, it did not take long for the Worldwalker to regain his composure and surety of mind. Distance was his ally in this fight, alongside degrees of attack and defence. Balance was effective at range normally, but would be able to gut an opponent who was close up should the polearm be retracted to his body as it was now.

'And then, without a second thought, he spun incredibly fast on his heel, retracting Balance to his body, creating a deadly circle of cold steel around him'

He let his now-entraped arm fall loose, allowing him a small degree of movement between the ensnared limb and himself. He twisted with Ryu, turning with his hips instead of his shoulders, dragging Balance towards the belly of his opponent before he could fabricate any further deadly situations. This would, at least in Arcturios' head, force Ryu to release and evade the swipe or risk being gutted by the wicked weapon. Though whether his attacker had more tricks up his sleeve was another question entirely. Should he release his arm, Arcturios would bound backwards and fall into a defensive stance once more, watching, waiting, evaluating silently.

Betwixt the Eternal Light

@ShienvienNot a problem, I have like three days off so I can get to it whenever. I'll wait for you before continuing! :)

NewSun V ShidenBlades

"The ant hill is only sacred to the ant, Monk." he retorted, almost angrily as his foe prepared himself, contorting his body to show a willingness to do battle. He did not make his position obvious, as Arcturios could not decipher whether his intent was to attack or play the defensive, but he had approached The Worldwalker, closing the distance between them fast.

Just as hie foe readied his body and soul, Arcturios lowered himself similarly, and extended the point of Balance so it was just beyond the reach of his foe. He did not immediately make any attempts to attack, maintaining a slow and steady composure with every carefully thought out motion.

"Tell me..." he continued, slowly waving Balance through the air in a complicated pattern that left no open holes in the line of defence, with no obvious weaknesses in it's trace. "Do you fear death?" he asked.

And then, without a second thought, he spun incredibly fast on his heel, retracting Balance to his body, creating a deadly circle of cold steel around him. As his circle neared completion, he flung his arm outwards, extending his hand. From his palm flew a throwing dagger, a vicious small-blade that shimmered through the air almost faster than the eye could follow. It was aimed directly for his challenger's neck, and it approached it's mark with startling speed. A direct hit would have been devastating, especially against bare flesh.

Betwixt the Eternal Light

Awesome, it's looking good.

@goodmorrowtou we'll be approaching Dempsey shortly, so you can join in on the third little merry arc of characters.

@Ashgan@SirBeowulf@Ink Blood I don't know if your group wanted a prompt or an event, or did you just want to start heading on down to the Shaded Forest? Of course I won't let the journey go smoothly. It's up to you how you proceed from here, though.

@Shienvien@OneEyedChurro@DJAtomika@Dark Jack@Laue I'll be doing the next post in this arc tomorrow. Churro has given me the go-ahead to slightly control his character for the post while we wrap up (or begin) the conflict here. I'd expect Perfect to be making an appearance soon, but I can't be sure. He's too crazy to tell.

The Fires of Anuria

Actually your method has shown me quite a few juicy pictures that would be suitable. I now have the issue of trying to make everything of a single theme to be of use. Oh, the choices!

And i've had a couple of expressed interests through PM, so I hope we can pick up soon.

NewSun V ShidenBlades

And then, as suddenly as he had awoken in the shaded world, his challenge appeared before him; as though on cue. The night seemed to darken as the two caught each other's glare across the courtyard; the monk's jade green eyes narrowed as they lay upon the Worldwalker, and Arcturios' own stormy soul windows glistened with preemption and ferocity.

"There are no sacred places, this world is but another in a line of endless worlds. It is faulty, a facade." he spoke in a hushed, ominous tone to the man who had begun to circle the courtyard, never losing focus. His challenge certainly did not look like a foe to take lightly, but a quick evaluation showed no weaponry, no armour. He was, essentially, unarmed. A hand-to-hand combatant, no doubt. Distance would do him favours in this melee, and it was guaranteed to be violent, whichever way it went.

"There is no respect, only another challenge. Envy not the dead, Monk," he said once more, pulling his body into a battle stance and brandishing Balance with one of it's savage lanceolate blade pointed right to the challenger. There was some distance between them, but it was a gap that could be closed quickly.

"Let us be done with this,"

Betwixt the Eternal Light

“Oh! Oh child!” the Hermit shouted unusually loudly after only shuffling a good ten steps. The young man had already begun to question him and his intent. He did not see that there was no time for talking, there was shuffling needing to be done. “I did not mean to startle you!”
He began once again to shuffle through the sand after slowly turning back around to face his heading. He liked to kick up the sand as he shuffled, the small eruptions of dusty grain soothed his frail mind and made a crooked smile stretch across his withering face. His teeth were crooked, rotting and full of eminent gaps, but he smiled anyway and without reservation.
His euphoria was cut short once more.

“Sir, you'd be right in guessing that I'm lost but I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about. Are you native to this region? I can't say I've ever been here before. I'm- how did I get here…” the young lad asked.

The Hermit stopped dead in his shuffled tracks. He planted his gnarled walking stick into the dust and leant on it once again. He pivoted slowly to face the young man and do his best to answer his questions as best as his puzzled and cryptic mind would allow.

“A native? Oh, heh heh heh,” He cackled, coughing dryly as he did so. “I do say! There are no natives here! Don’t be so silly!” he began to crack up again. “I am here for the same reason you are here! Heh heh heh,”

He stood upright again, as though he were a different man entirely, one who did not need the support of a walking stick to prevent falling flat to the ground. “I say! What a lovely day it is out today!”

There was no wind. The cold had once again begun to creep upon the dunes, enriching like some snake of bitter chills, weaving between the horizon and the disturbed land masterfully and easily, as though no obstruction could keep it from it’s goal. “You are here because you, like everyone else, got into a pickle. You managed to die. But that’s okay! You are just transitioning. Like a pilgrimage.”

The man was clearly confused. He continued to question where they were in the world. As if a specific point here could be pinpointed. “Well! he shouted unusually loudly, as though he were screaming for no apparent reason, “Why don’t you look at your map? Can you see the wide open plains? We are in the wide open plains before the smoky forest before the castle before the mountain before the-“ he stopped. He did not wish to continue that train of thoughts.

“You are between. Between worlds. Betwixt some sort of eternal light.”

He spun inhumanly fast to face his heading once more, before regaining the composure of a frail old man. He began to shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle through the sands. He gestured the same gesture from before, beckoning the man to follow.

“Come, I’ll do what I can to explain. But for now we have to find somebody else to fight off the Knight! There is a man. I haven’t met him yet but I think his name is Remly… or… Renny. Or… Rider. Riley? I’m sure he will be dying to meet us too. But we have to shuffle fast to get to him, the turn of the light approaches.”

NewSun V ShidenBlades

Under the infinite starlight, the Worldwalker strode longingly and slowly. He had awoken from some damned, inhuman sleep three days prior and had not once caught a glimpse of his fell opponent in this land. There was always someone, something lurking, waiting to strike. He had grown accustomed to such a foul practise - though it was no way to truly live - and had prepared himself accordingly.
What this time? He thought to himself. Demon? Man? Angel? Bloodthirsty beast? And what myriad manner of creatures he had faced before. The Gates of Arvioris had given way to a great Fell Berserker of the Shadow God, and the Hall of Flame was home to a fearsome Burning Knight. Both had proven deadly challenges; flinging him to the next world in the chain. Here. To this world..
He had stumbled across the courtyard in his search for his challenge in this realm: a fantastic opening of polished stone under an eternal night sky, framed with arching constructs of stone and fading wood. The mysterious and eerie place was inset into a greystone mountain that had a half-circle of doorways carved into the very rock. Where they led, however, was a different question entirely.

The Worldwalker brandished Balance, carrying it in his strong hand, holding it behind him in a half-ready battle stance. He treaded lightly; this place was certainly the arena of his next foe. His Dragon Hook was wrapped and ready, his throwing knives primed and ready to be thrown. There was little more he could do. He stood in the middle of the courtyard, looking left and looking right, hoping to catch but a single glimpse of his foe.

“Show yourself! let us be done with this!”