Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2018 17:38:18 GMT -5
And yet, he wasn't running. He couldn't really tell why, but he wouldn't. Maybe it was because because in a way, the people of this world weren't so different from his own, trapped in free fall, the downward spiral of pointless yet unavoidable tragedy. Because this was his one chance to make a difference for them. Because although it might come at a steep price, to compromise, to stake your life and everything else against the odds for something that truly mattered to you was to be truly free.
But what mattered for Morne?, He'd lie if he said it was the people themselves. They were good, but not any better than most other simple, peaceful inhabitants of the worlds. His own hands had felled better (and much worse) individuals, exceptional ones, more akin to giants than mere men. They would be forever be out of their league, relegated to a footnote in history. But in the end, all legends became footnotes, like his own foes, whose names now only he remembered; And so, there was no man, woman or child worth dying for. Because even the chosen by fate were nothing but replaceable tools.
Even then, he couldn't stand for them to be reaped like so, it plain and simple wasn't fair.
Now Morne knew better than to believe in justice. There were no universal principles that dictated that some actions were good and fair but others weren't. Things simply happened the way they did, no matter you like it or not. But if justice did not exist, maybe he could make some. For the villagers. For his kin. For himself. His train of thought was then interrupted when the hunter arrived to his side, "Dieter", he said as he turned towards him, the man already casting enhancing magic that splashed unto him. It was a relief to see him here, even if his casual tone didn't give that impression, "So you are going to fight..."; he took a step forward to the edge of the slope, the fiends were already making their way inland.
"... I must confess...", as he spoke, luminous dust gathered around his figure, becoming silver armor as cape white as snow extended from his shoulders, fluttering wildly in the wind, "... I haven't been entirely truthful to you. Or anyone else for that matter". Between his hands rested his helmet, shaped like a bird of prey, its grim beak stretching ominously. Morne himself was acting much differently. Gone was his warm slightly zany yet amicable demeanor, now he simply seemed out of it as he put on the cruel visage over his own, devoid of fear, devoid of rage, devoid of humanity.
"Sometimes, I'm glad I was made into a tool of war", he said, “It gave me the power to oppose fate, to act when no one else can”.
And with that, he leapt into the air. Around him five strange weapons appeared, each resembling a giant arrow, the size of a spear, their heads ending in the shape of a key. Landing on the thick of the swarm, he cleared the area around him with one mighty sweep only to be immediately surrounded again.
The situation looked dire, but slowly Morne started gaining ground. Just like the summoner before he had his own dance, one of graceful brutality as he slaughtered the enemy without second thought. His spears circumvallated him, sending traces of blackened ‘blood’ as they cleaved and skewered one target after another. The horde tried to overwhelm him at every turn, but each passing moment the warrior’s rythm accelerated more and more as additional arrows materialized around him. By this point they were ten and with them at hand, Morne resembled more a meat grinder than he did a man.
Meanwhile, the Sin spawn’s attention was caught by Dieter. A basic fire spell usually wouldn’t have been enough to damage it significantly, but coming from a master of fire like Dieter it was enough to spur it to action. A giant, human-looking eye opened in its surface, gathering energy for a moment, but before it could fire, Valefor took the oppening Dieter made to deftly maneuver through the mass of tentacles to send cutting winds directly towards the weaponized eye, which caused the creature to writhe in pain, its shot being deviated ever so slightly so that it missed its mark. In the distance, a massive explosion set a forest ablaze.
With the opponent blinded, Valefor charged his own laser, ready to deliver the killing blow; and as power concentrated in its mouth, hundreds of eyes just like the one it had just taken out opened all over the spawn’s surface, intently glaring at the aeon. When the mighty blast shot, hexagonal barriers appeared over them, combining one with another like a honeycomb through which’s surface the attack dissipated.
With a loud, deep rumble, almost like wretched laughter, the spawn used its tentacles to rise above the sea’s surface, ship still trapped in its mighty grasp, with a mighty swing, the monster used it to bat Valefor right out the sky sending it flying towards the Dark Knight with the extraordinary precision only countless eyes could bring you.
But what mattered for Morne?, He'd lie if he said it was the people themselves. They were good, but not any better than most other simple, peaceful inhabitants of the worlds. His own hands had felled better (and much worse) individuals, exceptional ones, more akin to giants than mere men. They would be forever be out of their league, relegated to a footnote in history. But in the end, all legends became footnotes, like his own foes, whose names now only he remembered; And so, there was no man, woman or child worth dying for. Because even the chosen by fate were nothing but replaceable tools.
Even then, he couldn't stand for them to be reaped like so, it plain and simple wasn't fair.
Now Morne knew better than to believe in justice. There were no universal principles that dictated that some actions were good and fair but others weren't. Things simply happened the way they did, no matter you like it or not. But if justice did not exist, maybe he could make some. For the villagers. For his kin. For himself. His train of thought was then interrupted when the hunter arrived to his side, "Dieter", he said as he turned towards him, the man already casting enhancing magic that splashed unto him. It was a relief to see him here, even if his casual tone didn't give that impression, "So you are going to fight..."; he took a step forward to the edge of the slope, the fiends were already making their way inland.
"... I must confess...", as he spoke, luminous dust gathered around his figure, becoming silver armor as cape white as snow extended from his shoulders, fluttering wildly in the wind, "... I haven't been entirely truthful to you. Or anyone else for that matter". Between his hands rested his helmet, shaped like a bird of prey, its grim beak stretching ominously. Morne himself was acting much differently. Gone was his warm slightly zany yet amicable demeanor, now he simply seemed out of it as he put on the cruel visage over his own, devoid of fear, devoid of rage, devoid of humanity.
"Sometimes, I'm glad I was made into a tool of war", he said, “It gave me the power to oppose fate, to act when no one else can”.
And with that, he leapt into the air. Around him five strange weapons appeared, each resembling a giant arrow, the size of a spear, their heads ending in the shape of a key. Landing on the thick of the swarm, he cleared the area around him with one mighty sweep only to be immediately surrounded again.
The situation looked dire, but slowly Morne started gaining ground. Just like the summoner before he had his own dance, one of graceful brutality as he slaughtered the enemy without second thought. His spears circumvallated him, sending traces of blackened ‘blood’ as they cleaved and skewered one target after another. The horde tried to overwhelm him at every turn, but each passing moment the warrior’s rythm accelerated more and more as additional arrows materialized around him. By this point they were ten and with them at hand, Morne resembled more a meat grinder than he did a man.
Meanwhile, the Sin spawn’s attention was caught by Dieter. A basic fire spell usually wouldn’t have been enough to damage it significantly, but coming from a master of fire like Dieter it was enough to spur it to action. A giant, human-looking eye opened in its surface, gathering energy for a moment, but before it could fire, Valefor took the oppening Dieter made to deftly maneuver through the mass of tentacles to send cutting winds directly towards the weaponized eye, which caused the creature to writhe in pain, its shot being deviated ever so slightly so that it missed its mark. In the distance, a massive explosion set a forest ablaze.
With the opponent blinded, Valefor charged his own laser, ready to deliver the killing blow; and as power concentrated in its mouth, hundreds of eyes just like the one it had just taken out opened all over the spawn’s surface, intently glaring at the aeon. When the mighty blast shot, hexagonal barriers appeared over them, combining one with another like a honeycomb through which’s surface the attack dissipated.
With a loud, deep rumble, almost like wretched laughter, the spawn used its tentacles to rise above the sea’s surface, ship still trapped in its mighty grasp, with a mighty swing, the monster used it to bat Valefor right out the sky sending it flying towards the Dark Knight with the extraordinary precision only countless eyes could bring you.