Summoning the Wraithlord: The Carnifex's New Tutor

Moirean

So a bit ago, the founder of the Infernals guild came back from a stint in the Abyss (apparently he couldn't play nice in the underhalls and had to have a time out). He passed on skills he had developed over the centuries: savage weapons combat, the use of brutal hounds, and the secrets of deathlore. He used the souls of slain innocents as well as murderous Infernal nights in a ritual in Jaru, melding both together to create a master soulstone. Dhar was kinda not happy with all that jazz, since the Carnis totally stole souls from His realm and stuffs.

Fastforward a few decades later and Enorian went about cleansing Jaru. The Carnifex tried to stop them with the help of Bloodloch and Dhar (I think?) ended up intervening to finish the cleansing. This pissed off Roan, so he made a giant golem out of dead bodies and went on a rampage...which was abruptly cut short from his soul being ripped from his body. He was forced into eternal punishment, reliving his death endless forever and ever. Sucky. The Carnifex were, understandly, not happy about this, and declared that Dhar would pay one day. 

Well, fairly recently Medeya, the Carnifex gatekeeper, came to Moirean to update her about what happened in her absence. She mentioned that she had heard about a wraith who possessed divine armour and who had been rampaging in Enorian - a wraith who fought with surprising similarity to the Carnifex. Medeya suggested that the guild try to summon him for information...or even to serve the guild. Insert several IG months of frantic research, culminating, finally, in a plan to make our own set of armour for him to possess....

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Moirean:

She is a powerful Imp and is a slight, slender creature. Small, bat-like wings fan out from her shoulderblades, while a curling tail twists behind her, twitching in a vaguely mischievous movement, as if possessed of its own mind. A pair of petite horns frames her features, sprouting from her brow to highlight a pair of bright, amber eyes. Her hair, deep auburn in colour, tumbles around her pointed ears in tangled curls, the color a lurid match for the seared brand of a thirteen-pointed star across her forehead. A faint aura of chilly blue light shrouds her form, whispers of dark magic clinging to her frame, the source evidently a faceted, fathomless soulstone embedded in the breastplate of her armour. A shiny scar mars her right shoulder in a jagged line, likely from a freshly healed wound. 

Toz:

Slate grey, his skin has a distinctly leathery texture to it, rough and calloused. His hair is raven
    black, worn short and slicked back. His right ear ends in a sharp point, the tip of the left has
    been blunted by a bite, the tip missing. His eyes are small and beady, colored an icy blue. Standing
    in contrast to his large, blocky jaw, his thin lips conceal a row of dangerously sharp teeth.
    Digitigrade feet hold up his form, each ending in a three-taloned foot. From his back sprouts two
    leathery wings - each jointed to allow them to fold the patagium against his back when not in use,
    safely out of harm's way. Sinuously extending behind him is a thick tail, the tip broadening into a
    leaf-headed point. 

Tsvanni:

She is a resilient Atavian vampire, standing with an imposing, incredulous gaze, who holds herself with a proud and full stature, her arms square and disciplined, shoulders back, and her platemail glistening dangerously. Her face is marked by emerald green tattoos, in the shape of pristine lines, which run down from beneath her eyes, and accent her large, shimmering emerald eyes, pupil less, irisless, and without whites, which add to her already intimidating poise. Her hair is short and black, cut into a medium length, wispy pixie cut, which curls on her forehead softly, and curls about her ears. Her right eye is covered in a large silver eyepatch, which still displays some scarring around the edges. Her pale, pallid skin is contrasted by her glistening, warm pink lips, which conceal two thick, very powerful Consanguine fangs. Covering her body are jade green and black tattoos in scrawling patterns, which are written in kalsu, and on her chest is an enormous Midnight black rose, with kalsu words around it, reading; "Dibi Abi, Evkezi wo Aste, Eala wo Ilafum".

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I'm putting this in 3rd person, as the log includes thoughts from Toz, which I will highlight in yellow.

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Moirean nods, and then says, "Now. About this platemail..."

Toz says to Moirean, "I was thinking...make a suit of armor as normal, except leave a place in the middle to put a soulstone in. Reverse the binding of it,  so the wraith can exist inside it without getting trapped."

Moirean sucks thoughtfully on her teeth.

Moirean says, "I was considering that, except where do we get the soulstone? I won't ask one of the members to sacrifice one of their's."

Voice growing businesslike and brisk, Moirean says, "As a last resort..." She frowns, but pushes on. "If it comes to it, I will give up mine to strengthen the armour and bind the creature as needed - but I would never demand that sort of cost from any of the members. I would prefer that we do the best we can to make the armour as strong as possible and use souls themselves in the forging, if we can. We have to aim for that being enough."

Toz says to Moirean, "I'll offer mine. I can always get a new one, if mine is destroyed by it..."

Shrugging his shoulders, Toz says to Moirean, "As for using souls, I'm not entirely sure how to do that without a soulstone to bind them to the armor. They're fairly fickle."

Summoning his soulstone to his hand impatiently, Toz says, "...I wonder what this is made of, specifically?"

Moirean stands, summoning her own stone to her with an effortless twist of her hand. The gem hovers in the air before her, rotating slowly as it bathes in its own chilly blue glow. She studies the stone and comprehension dawns on her features. "You want to make a suit out of it?"

Toz nods to Moirean, "Exactly," he says, "It would be the most fitting way to do it, I think - just need to discern what it is made of, and find a forge hot enough to smelt it down." Rising back to his feet, clawed hand squeezing down on the stone to no effect, "Harder than steel. Perhaps a little heavier too- a suit forged from this would make its wearer decidedly hard to kill."

Nodding in agreement, Moirean says, "And it would be rare and exotic enough to entice the wraith."

With a nod, Toz says, "Aye, it would be."

Chewing on her lip, Moirean says, "Well, the master was created by Roan, in the ritual in Jaru. It was basically the merging of two drastically different types of souls - the slaughtered and those who did the slaughtering - which coalesced into the first soulstone."

Eyes flitting down to his soulstone briefly, Toz says to Moirean "Then we should find out what village the wraith has an attachment to. A favored enemy - craft it from their souls."

Moirean says, "Calipso says he sprung from a soul released in Dun. I don't know how accurate that was."

Moirean says, "I do know he attacked Enorian, however."

Moirean says, "And Jaru is one of their protected villages - and that is where the original master came from."

Raising an eyebrow, Moirean says, "Should we try from there?"

Toz says to Moirean "So is Tainhelm, is it not? We laid waste to Jaru once, likely they have safeguards there now."

Moirean thinks for a moment before nodding slowly.

A grin slowly sliding across her face, Moirean says, "And after our DECADES of destruction there, I think we've sowed more than a little dark magic there already."

Toz says to Moirean "Indeed. Every Carnifex coming here to slaughter them, over and over - more power than we had in Jaru, likely."

*** Run to Tainhelm, kill the two guards ***

Moirean makes quick work of the guards, pausing to wipe away a smear of blood spatter from her cheek. "What do you think, Ser Toz?" she asks with a laugh, a hint of bloodlust swelling in the sound. "The whole village?"

Toz smirks faintly and nods, "The whole village," he agrees, "Call it practice, for starting the ritual."

Moirean strides forwards and pushes open the gates, bending at the waist for leverage as her outspread arms shove the metal barriers aside. "To slaughter!" she cries, and lets out a wild laugh.

*** la la la murder ****

An elderly Dwarven gardener says, "GET OFF MY FLOWERS!!"

With a small smirk, Toz says, "Blood makes the grass grow."

An elderly Dwarven gardener says, "May the Gods never have pity on your soul, Toz."

An elderly Dwarven gardener spits at the ground near Toz in disgust.

An elderly Dwarven gardener says, "I'll rather die than to live under Bloodloch's reign!"

Toz has slain an elderly Dwarven gardener.

A flagon tumbles out from within the corpse.

Toz pauses and takes the time to empty out the remaining ale within the flagon onto the gates.

Toz tosses the empty container aside and straightens, crisply saluting you, "Tainhelm's villagers slaughtered or routed, Commander."

Medeya, the gatewarden tells Moirean, "How do things progress, Commander?"

Moirean tells Medeya, the gatewarden, "Ah, excellent timing, Gatekeeper. I was just about to give you an order"

Giving the Gatekeeper a crisp salute, Moirean says to Medeya, the gatewarden, "I need you to stand vigil extra attentively for right now."

Medeya, the gatewarden says, "As you say, Commander."

Toz retrieves a cloth from his pack and begins to attentively wipe down his armor and halberd, clearing the blood from them both.

Moirean says to Medeya, the gatewarden, "Ser Toz and I are attempting to recreate Lord Roan's ritual, in which he summoned the original soulstone - we wish to try to create a large fragment of the same stone, to forge the armour from."

Gesturing towards an armful of butchered dwarves with a wicked grin, Moirean says to Medeya, the gatewarden, "The souls of the slaughtered mingling with the souls of killers to coalesce into a soulstone - that is the formula Roan used, so we will try to make it work for us."

Decisively, Moirean says, "The taken, and the takers."

Moirean says to Medeya, the gatewarden, "Things might get...violent, so keep a watchful eye and alert us to danger."

A shadowy training yard. (Shadow Keep.)

Almost perpetually cast in the shadow of the Keep's watchtower, this training yard is a gloomy space. Broad and rectangular, it is little more than a packed earth field, covered in a meticulously-raked layer of sawdust to soak up any blood which may be spilled. A large gnarled tree, long dead and preserved from the dry cold of the mountains, oversees the sparring like an ancient knight recalling his glory days. As the Carnifex would treat such a knight, the guild appears to only tolerate its continued presence due to some modicum of use: punching bags and target circles hang from its skeletal branches, while padded leather has been wrapped around the trunk to create a crude sort of sparring pell for the trainees to hack at. Steel mountings for weapons, torches, and armour ring the yard with a row of wooden benches set against the north, east and west walls, offering a promise of respite to the Initiates at training. The occasional clang from the forge to the west sometimes rises above the clash of combat here, while the air is heavy with the pungent smells of blood, sweat, and dirt. Casting a perpetually chilly blue glow over the entire area, an immense, faceted stone hangs suspended in the air to the north of the yard. A long, shallow basin sits below it, its basalt contours stained a deep shade of rusty brown. The pathway to the recruit's barracks winds past the gem, giving new members of the Carnifex a constant, grim reminder of the Keep's mastery of captured souls. Suspended midair, an immense, multi-faceted soulstone is here, pulsating blue motes skittering beneath its surface.

Moirean deposits the corpses beneath the soulstone, letting them fall to the ground in a rough, tumbled pile of bloody carnage. Her own soulstone, embedded into the breastplate of her platemail, begins to glow a bright blue, as if thirsting after the souls of the slain. She kicks a few of the bodies, shuffling them into a higher mound, and then turns to Toz.

(Carnifex): Moirean says, "Tsvanni and Satomi, if you would come to the Keep, I could use your assistance."

(Carnifex): Tsvanni says, "I am nearby, Commander."

Tsvanni turns sharply to face Toz and stands at attention, a model of discipline.

Toz gives Tsvanni a respectful salute.

Tsvanni gives Toz a respectful salute.

A hushed hissing could be heard growing steadily in volume; its origin unknown.

Tsvanni peers about herself suspiciously.

Moirean is clearly focused on something more serious than just salutes and ignores Tsvanni. Instead, she closes her eyes and summons her stone forth - the gem spins in the air, hovering aloft, as its chilly blue glow begins to pulse, brightening and, somehow, simultaneously darkening from within to send forth beams of icy, sharp light. Something about the glow is....off - there is darkness there, improbably, as if the illumination is somehow underscored by shadows, giving the impression of an eerie depth to the light. Soul magic.

Toz nods and takes a step back, pulling forth a soul cleaver. Holding it up in something of a guard, he watches the corpses warily, claws tight around the ethereal weapon.

Moirean spreads her hands, letting them drop to her side. Unassisted, her stone continues to rotate in the air and its light arcs over to the master, linking to the immense stone in an azure trail.

Toz's attention is pulled away from Tsvanni as Moirean's soulstone starts to spin. Utterly quiet, he straightens up to his full height, cleaver kept raised and ready to strike. Tucking his wings in against his back, he starts to pace around MOirean so he can see both her soulstone and the larger one, eyes fixed on the trail between the two.

Moirean exhales again and is clearly concentrating on directing her own stone. She does not appear to notice the building sound of distant hissing creeping into the room. Instead, she focuses on her stone, gesturing towards the pile of corpses on the ground.

Tsvanni readies suddenly, alarmed by the movements, and draws her blades in preparation.

The pile of corpses begins to rumble, the broken bodies trembling with power.

Toz thinks: Soul magic. Best leave it to the Commander, she's more of a ritualist than I am.

Toz finally speaks as the bodies start to move, "Commander. If you can shape it, make it a bar. I'll forge it into armor from there, with enough heat..." He trails off into silence again, seeming tense as his gaze flicks between you and the corpses warily.

Overhead, the stone begins to leech the souls from the corpses, slowly draining the last vestiges of humanity out of the broken bodies. Face locked in a tense expression from the effort, Moirean hoarsely whispers, "Bring forth your own stones - Roan's....Roan's ritual required the souls of killers alongside the killed."

A swirling mass of void-black darkness gathers in the space before Tsvanni. Reaching forth, she casually withdraws a pulsing soulstone from the void, which closes up rapidly behind her fingertips.

Tsvanni holds her own soulstone outward, and offers it outward obediently "At your order, Commander."

Tsvanni strides calmly to the commander and holds it towards the larger one.

Toz shifts his grip on his cleaver, taking his soulstone in his newly-freed claw and holding it outward, "As you say, Commander," he says in a quiet tone.

Glowing a violent red, the bodies of the slain begin to melt under the force of some immense power, the liquefying flesh creating an unbearable smell which makes it almost impossible to breathe. The sagging masses of flesh and bone begin to rise on their own volition, combining and forming into some sort of massive, jagged shape.

Toz thinks, awed despite himself, "This is the power of Change. The Templars don't have access to anything of this magnitude..."

Tsvanni glares upon the sight, examining the subtle manifestations of power and making a mental note of the events. Holding her arm higher, she attempts to emulate Moirean in at least a rudimentary fashion.

Toz's expression wrinkles to one of distaste at the smell, briefly, then returns to normal. Jaw setting stubbornly, a wispy tendril of something begins to slink slowly from the stone he holds, moving across the ground like a fog towards the twisting and turning bodies.

Moirean's eyes flutter open and widen as she stares at the effect of the stone's power upon the corpses.

Toz thinks, "Souls to feed and shape it, then. Form it into a bar, or...maybe just forge the armor right here, now, without a forge at all."

The melting flesh and bone of the desecrated corpses begin to grow translucent, seeming to fade away from existence altogether. Wispy trails of smoke rise upward from the disgusting heap before being drawn inward. Another violent, red glow leads to the final transformation of their mortal bodies into a massive, darkened soulstone. As more corpses evaporate into the crystalline, ethereal mass, the soulstone grows further in size.

Tsvanni stares at her stone, which does nothing, and then squeezes it in her grasp, taking a step closer to the morass of grotesque sight.

As the final corpse dissipates into the soulstone, there is naught left standing but the immense, crystalline mass - ethereal lights pulsing erratically within its depths, the cries of innumerable trapped souls echoing dully from deep within.

The fog extending from Toz's soulstone halts, hovering just below the soulstone. Glancing to Moirean he asks quietly, "Into the soul stone itself, Commander? Or should I hold off?"

Tsvanni peers at Moirean for the same instruction.

Moirean

Moirean squints her eyes and lifts a hand to shade them from the ghastly lights. Her lips, however, curve, forming a fierce, intense smile. "Give it a taste of the Carnifex souls," she commands, and her head tilts back as her own stone summons a streaming siphone of essence from her chest, funneling it towards the newly coalescing stone.

The massive soulstone begins to rattle violently.

Tsvanni offers herself and her stone as she attempts to channel her soul into this second stone.

Toz's soul-fog jerks upwards, reimbued with a sense of direction as Moirean orders it, wisping into the now-rattling soulstone. Continuing to stream in soul, he remains entirely still, allowing as many of the souls within his stone to escape as required.

Tsvanni whispers quietly, and releases the souls of her own stone.

Thick veins begin to form on the outside of the massive soulstone as it continues to shake and tremble with power. Suddenly; a loud 'crack' would draw your attention to a fracture on the front of the stone. Then, several more begin to form along the sides, the whole structure of the soulstone seeming to become compromised by some external force.

Wispy veins of black essence begin to creep into the area, searching out for the soulstone. Tendrils of the dark energy begin to climb up the crystalline mass and envelop it entirely.

Tsvanni releases more souls, suddenly caught off guard.

The link between Moirean and her own stone falters, wavering into only a dim, barely visible glow as the stone cracks. Uncertainty flashes across her face.

The persistent sounds of cracking and shattering crystal resound loudly from under the enveloping dark mass, enormous shards of the broken soulstone clattering noisily to the ground.

Toz continues to direct his soul into the stone now, aiming it for cracks in an attempt to chip away still more pieces, his lips curling up into a faint, ambitious grin, blue eyes shining brightly with the glow of his own soulstone.

Toz thinks, "No one has forged an armor from a soul before. My legacy, to the Keep, will be in this suit. It must be perfect.."

Moirean takes an instinctive step back, the movement abruptly severing her link with her stone. Concentration broken, her own stone joins the raining shards, falling to the ground with a dull, weighty thud. She watches, wide-eyed, as the newly formed stone continues to shape itself.

When the dark energy dissipates into the air, it would reveal a soulstone no longer; instead, an impossibly large set of full plate which rests neatly upon the ground. The armor remains empty for barely a moment - at first, it shakes, then glows a darkened red as some dark mass begins to fill into it, the armguards and greaves animating sluggishly as the soulstone-forged armor is given life by the imposing Wraithlord Gruxmal, who rises from the ground to stand whole before you. A massive, darkened halberd forms into view shortly after, held tightly in his only visible hand.

Protected by a nearly impervious armor, Gruxmal looms over any mere mortal near him. The plate armor he wears is made from an unknown, dark grey material and hides most of his visible features, all that could be noticed is his head, which is ghastly and translucent, his unholy, serpentine features contorted from aeons spent trapped in the Abyss. He hefts a massive halberd in his only visible hand, the jagged weapon seemingly dulled through excessive time and use but threatening nonetheless.

Wraithlord Gruxmal lets out a loud, long hiss as he glares down at each of the present.

Wraithlord Gruxmal says, "Who CALLSsss upon ME?"

As the Wraithlord manifests itself, Toz lowers his own soulstone, cutting off the feed of souls. Sliding the distinctly dimmer soulstone into his chest with a thud, he raises his cleaver again, considering Gruxmal with a degree of wariness, though his eyes linger on the armor withh something closer to awe.

Eldritch glyphs flicker across the surface of Toz's soulstone as he presses it against black Carnifex plate with menacing spikes. Slowly, as if it were only parting water, the stone begins to sink into the armour's chestpiece. Half protruding from black Carnifex plate with menacing spikes, the soulstone embeds into place and envelops the armour in a magical aura.

Toz starts to wield an ethereal soul cleaver in his hands.

Moirean squares her shoulders and stares back at the wraith, a quiet strength straightening her frame, despite its small size. Her voice rings out, echoing across the courtyard, as she takes a step forwards. "The Carnifex knights summon you," she declares. "Inheritors of Roan's legacy, savages of Sapience, and masters of souls."

Toz thinks as he looks over the Wraithlord's armor, "I made that. A shame I cannot wear it, but an honor to have had a hand in its creation nonetheless."

Tsvanni lowers her soulstone as well, and unsheathes her sword, eyeing the magnificent armor upon the Wraithlord, and his impressive stature.

Wraithlord Gruxmal throws his ghastly head back to let out an irritable screech. "Caaarnifeeex?!" he hisses. "Roaann.. what do you know of ROAN, AND SOULS? What is it you want from ME?"

Moirean's eyes narrow at the screech, but she meets it with her own ghastly wail - deftly summoning her stone to her hands, she clenches it once and the gem emits a tortured cry, the sound of a thousand captured souls. Over the cacophony, she cries, "We are the MASTERS of souls, and we have summoned you to serve."

Black spots flit across your field of vision as Moirean draws forth from the rage and anguish of her soul and unleashes a piercing wail.

Tsvanni rushes away with a startling cry.

Your hearing is restored painfully.

Toz holds his position even as the Cohort's courage falters briefly, then paces carefully closer to Moirean moving to stand behind and to her left, keeping his soul cleaver raised in his hands, the weapon's surface flickering and twisting agitatedly.

Tsvanni hisses softly at the wail, steeling herself and striding over beside Moirean.

"I serve?!" Wraithlord Gruxmal yells, lifting his massive halberd in a threat. "You have given me armor-- it is.. NICE.. but serve? No.. Caaarnifeeex issssS WEAK!"

Toz thinks, smugly despite himself, after a brief bristle, "Weak? No- but...nice armor. He has an eye for quality, at least."

Wraithlord Gruxmal says, "Gruxmal ssserve if Caaarnifeex can.. show him they are not WEAK.."

Steepling her fingers against her chest, Moirean holds them there a moment before drawing her hand back slowly. Thin tendrils of an oily, silvery black substance trail after the fingertips and begin to coalesce within her hand, gradually flowing into the ephemeral shape of a soul cleaver.

Tsvanni says to Moirean in Albedi, "At your orders, Commander."

As an ephemeral cleaver coalesces into her hands, Moirean lifts her chin, an imperious note entering her voice. "Quiet is not weak, wraith. You will taste the bite of our cleavers, feel the pain as a soulblade bites into your very essence, and you will learn what strength is." She jerks her head towards Tsvanni, saying, "Cohort, you first. Demonstrate your ability."

With a soft accent, Tsvanni says in an exotic tone, "Hm."

Moirean says to Wraithlord Gruxmal, "We will see if you can take on a simple recruit, before the Tainted take their swings."

Toz thinks, now sizing up the wraith, "I could try to reave its soul out of the armor, but that defeats the purpose. I could try to hit it with my cleaver, but a soulstone is the same - cleavers won't pass through. A hammer might rattle him though, without hurting him overmuch."

Tsvanni rends Wraithlord Gruxmal mercilessly with a blow from a steel Theran broadsword.

As Tsvanni strikes Gruxmal, his armor glows a violent red and abruptly absorbs Tsvanni.

Wraithlord Gruxmal swings the pole of his massive halberd and brings it crashing down on Tsvanni's head, making her reel in pain.

 

Wraithlord Gruxmal swings the pole of his massive halberd and brings it crashing down on Tsvanni's head, making her reel in pain.

Tsvanni has been slain by Wraithlord Gruxmal.

You have emoted: Moirean frowns at the feeble display and turns to her other side. "Ser Toz!" she commands. "Show him your hammer!"

Wraithlord Gruxmal says, "You call thissss... STRENGTH? Be out of MY way, before I .. desstroy you!"

Toz leans down to retrieve the shattered husk, considering it briefly.

Casting aside the husk and sliding away his cleaver, Toz draws forth a hammer. "As you say, Commander," he drawls carefully, using the time it takes him to reply to prepare himself somewhat for the oncoming onslaught, stepping towards Gruxmal after a pause.

Moirean

Toz pulls a long-hafted Carnifex battlehammer from his weaponbelt fluidly.

Toz starts to wield a long-hafted Carnifex battlehammer in his hands.

Toz's muscles bulge with deadly strength as he tightens his grip upon his hammer.

Toz steps in and slams his warhammer into the wraith with as much force as he can muster.

Striking out at Wraithlord Gruxmal with a long-hafted Carnifex battlehammer, Toz repeatedly smashes it into his unguarded head, leaving him beaten and bloodied.

Wraithlord Gruxmal's halberd glows a menacing red just before he slices Toz's torso twice in quick succession with it.

Catching him off guard, Wraithlord Gruxmal lifts his armored leg and powerfully kicks Toz, sending him body flying through the air like a toy.

Toz is knocked to the west by the force of the blow.

Catching you off guard, Wraithlord Gruxmal lifts his armored leg and powerfully kicks you, sending your body flying through the air like a toy.

A powerful mastiff, your faithful companion, leaps forward, intercepting the attack!

The force of the blow knocks you to the east.

A morbid, dimly-lit stable.

A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground.  This is a stable. Use STABLE to check your mounts or WARES to buy new mounts. A murky darkness has settled in here.

You see a single exit leading west.

A shadowy training yard. (Shadow Keep.)

Toz lunges back in and keeps swinging heavily.

Wraithlord Gruxmal pulls back his massive halberd and gruesomely impales Toz upon it. Wraithlord Gruxmal hisses in pleasure as he twists the embedded weapon around in Toz's gut.

Moirean lets out an angry snarl, and throws herself into the battle.

Moirean strikes out at Wraithlord Gruxmal, slashing him with a hefty glacial halberd, ripping him wide open.

Spinning a hefty glacial halberd deftly in her hands, she brings it about for another strike.

Moirean strikes out at Wraithlord Gruxmal, slashing him with a hefty glacial halberd, ripping him wide open.

Tsvanni slashes hard into Wraithlord Gruxmal with a steel Theran broadsword.

When Tsvanni attacks Gruxmal, his armor lashes back with a powerful surge of energy, throwing Tsvanni off balance.

*** Check out his uber attack ***

As you strike Gruxmal, his armor glows a violent red and you are absorbed immediately into it. You open your eyes to find yourself trapped in the Abyss.

Despite your best efforts to fight it, the armor rather effortlessly swallows you into the void.

Within the Abyss.

 There are no obvious exits. 

You have been trapped within the Abyss!

The surrounding Abyss assaults your every sense, and you fail to prevent its influence over your mind.

You are afflicted with stun.

You are afflicted with fear.

You are afflicted with confusion.

Your thoughts are plagued by unspeakable, morbid ideas which force you to question your own purpose. . .

You are afflicted with recklessness.

You are afflicted with anorexia.

You are afflicted with berserking.

You are afflicted with masochism.

Terrifying memories are injected into your mind, your sense of identity hastily being eroded.

You are afflicted with stun.

You are afflicted with fear.

You are afflicted with paranoia.

Your clarity of mind has been corrupted.

Your clarity defence has been stripped.

You are afflicted with impatience.

The thought of speech seems difficult all of a sudden.

You are afflicted with hypochondria.

You try one last time to fight off the influence of the Abyss and maintain what humanity remains within you, but your efforts are undoubtedly in vain.

At last, the Abyss rejects you, spitting you out back where you once were.

*** lots of fighting later... ***

Snarling as a final strike fells the wraith, Toz says, "I made you that armor, and I can rip you from it just as well."

To your surprise, Tsvanni rises up from the ground to stand before you.

YMoirean slashes her halberd towards the wraith, but finds only empty air. "Wha--" she exclaims.

The empty armor of the slain Wraithlord begins to rattle noisily on the ground.

Tsvanni gives an icy hiss.

The Wraithlord fills the armor once more, standing back to its full height. He lets out a loud hiss as his halberd reforms in his only visible hand.

"Caarnifeex," Wraithlord Gruxmal hisses. "Iss strrooong."

Moirean secures her weapon, crossing her arms over her chest. "Together," she agrees, "The Carnifex are powerful and strong. A well-trained and well-formed unit." She pauses, and raises and eyebrow. "However..."

Moirean says to Wraithlord Gruxmal, "We need a trainer. Roan has been slain, and you clearly know our ways."

Moirean says, "To maintain our strength, we need one like you to beat sense and ability into our recruits."

Tsvanni points to herself wryly, and subtly.

Tsvanni stands politely at Moirean's side, awaiting orders obediently.

Wraithlord Gruxmal says, "Verry.. well.. will teach. Learned ssssame as Roan, yesss.."

Moirean's voice loses its icy edge, and she gives a firm nod. "Have you any conditions for your service?"

Toz carefully slides his warhammer away as Wraithlord Gruxmal hisses his agreement, straightening from his fighting stance.

Wraithlord Gruxmal's contorted visage tightens in rage as he lets out a loud, incomprehensible hiss.

Wraithlord Gruxmal says, "Dharrr must PAAAY for what he did to ME, take hissss-souls. Make hisss sufferr."

Mouth tightening into a cold smile, Moirean says, "That can....be arranged. In time."

Toz thinks, "Well that's convenient. Half the reason we summoned him anyway..."

Tsvanni's eyes thirst dangerously, her grip tightening as she licks her lip in unnatural fervor.

Tsvanni tells you, in Albedi, "We time it right, and He will crumble like the lies He purveys."

Moirean thinks for a moment before nodding slowly at Tsvanni.

Moirean lets out a pent in breath, obviously drained from the entire encounter - the hunt, the ritual and the fight each taking their toll. A slightly weary note enters her voice, but she firmly promises, "Trust me, the Carnifex bear no love for Dhar. He will see pain and loss, from our hands. Train our youth well, and His pain will increase."

Wraithlord Gruxmal says, "I will agree to cooperrrate with the Caaarnifeex, if they will bring painn to Dharr. Where ssshall I stand?"

With a nod that indicates the entire training yard, Moirean says, "Use this space as you see fit."

Toz speaks up after a moment, directing his inquiry towards the Wraithlord, "Any information about your time in the Abyss, or about His favored tricks, would prove invaluable. If we are to hurt a God, or even merely His children, being prepared for His retaliation is something that is necessary."

Wraithlord Gruxmal says, "Heee made this ARMOR, I TOOK it.. mine, MINE.. then he says, Gruxmal can HAVE his armor, but in the Abyss, forever, and ever, for tricking Him. So forever, and ever, Gruxmal stayed there, with his armor.."

Wraithlord Gruxmal fondly begins to feel over his new set of armor with a wispy hand. "But now Gruxmal has new.. arrrmor, not in the Abyss. With the Caaarnifeex instead.."

Moirean nods authoritatively. "Our terms are not so treacherous."

Toz clasps his clawed hands behind his back, nodding in agreement with Moirean, "Admittedly, learning to banish our enemies to the Abyss as you can would be a distinctly powerful boon," he murmurs, half to himself.

Tsvanni smiles at Toz.

Wraithlord Gruxmal says, "Isss Gruxmal.. Gruxmal is many. Gruxmal is the Abyss."

Wraithlord Gruxmal gives an icy hiss.

Toz falls silent once more, thoughtful, leaving the discussing to you.

Gesturing towards the wraithlord, Moirean says to Tsvanni, "Learn from him. See what he can teach you."

Tsvanni says to Moirean in Albedi, "On your orders, Commander."

Tsvanni inclines her head politely to Moirean.

Tsvanni peers upon Gruxmal, approaching slowly.

Moirean salutes each of the Carnifex, and nods to the wraithlord. "An...interesting development," she states. "But productive. It seems we have destruction to plan, so I shall retire to my study and begin sketching up ideas."

Toz gives Gruxmal a salute, then the others assembled, before turning to clack off southward, still frowning thoughtfully.

With a chilly laugh, Moirean says to Wraithlord Gruxmal, "Welcome to the Shadow Keep, Wraithlord. Make yourself at home."

Edhain

This was radcore. What a perfect new trainer, and nice roleplay getting there. I liked seeing what happened to this fellow. The way Toz maintains thought roleplay is pretty cool too.

Dhar

Black spots flit across your field of vision as Moirean draws forth from the rage and anguish of her soul and unleashes a piercing wail.

Tsvanni rushes away with a startling cry.

I nearly died laughing at this.

Good log, great writing, guys!

Mastema

So very cool =D>

Toz

Dhar said:

Black spots flit across your field of vision as Moirean draws forth from the rage and anguish of her soul and unleashes a piercing wail.

Tsvanni rushes away with a startling cry.

I nearly died laughing at this.

Good log, great writing, guys!

Moirean's breath is pretty bad, yeah.

Tsvanni

Dhar said:

Black spots flit across your field of vision as Moirean draws forth from the rage and anguish of her soul and unleashes a piercing wail.

Tsvanni rushes away with a startling cry.

I nearly died laughing at this.

Good log, great writing, guys!

Its @Dhaaar! Graaawr. >.< Meow. I forgot to eats mah heart slices, wubwub

Moirean

Dhar said:

Black spots flit across your field of vision as Moirean draws forth from the rage and anguish of her soul and unleashes a piercing wail.

Tsvanni rushes away with a startling cry.

I nearly died laughing at this.

I was cracking up so bad RL when that happened. Toz's response about being stronger than her also kept me laughing. Thank goodness it turned into fighting pretty quickly after that, because I would not have been able to keep my composure for long. :P