Mastema is summoned

I have not role played in several real months 'about 12 months' and I asked Riluo if he was busy so we could talk about my absence from the congregation I am in! He was all for it but I am rusty so it took a while to get in the groove of things.

Backstory:

Several years ago, Mastema was a member of Niuri’s order and he woke to find her gone. His reaction was violent and in the process of smashing up his private chambers in the old Bouchard estate, a servant walked in and he killed her causing Riluo to barge in and killed him. A short while later he took Mastema into the desert, and they had a very long chat about how he could channel his internal rage better. He suggested learning about the Malevolent and Mastema agreed to join her congregation with the task of learning to fight better and obey orders.

This is where it carries on from:

I got a summons from Riluo to his temple complex (his haven) this is what follows. Please be considerate as I have not rped in over a year and I was tired. I tided it up without all the prompts and echoes from the game and just cut and pasted the rp section so it would be easier to seek advice.

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Temple of the Kel (35467) - The Havens (Unmapped)
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A thick, pungent blanket of putrid decay hangs in the air of this ancient temple, its dark stone walls lit only by the diffuse flicker of terracotta oil lamps, their feeble light dancing idly across the length of the interior stonewalls. Immense columns of marble and granite line the entirety of this once sacred place. Carved with great care into each column are the shrieking faces of innumerable sentient beings each one more realistic than the last. In the heart of the temple complex a colossal pit of shadows and swirling souls can be seen, its edges pitted and broken as if something has been trying to claw its way out of the chaos below. Situated at the far end of the temple soaked in a vibrant white light is a raised platform of Sandstone and glass. Beneath the glass reside two adult sized sarcophaguses of cobalt and pale white. Contained in one are the flawlessly preserved remains of three tiny headless children, clasped tightly to the hands of the bigger female child in the middle. Beyond the platform a deep passage leading to the north is obscured from view by a throne and two tattered banners strung from the ceiling to the cold sandstone below. The roof of the temple has been painstakingly painted with friezes of great battles and a near perfect representation of the one true god Galleus handing an ice drenched ethereal scythe to a dark figure dressed in simple grey robes. An ancient sandstone sarcophagus of imposing stature resides here. There are 4 obsidian rings here. There are 3 heavy iron-link giftbags here. A cloaked figure is here, hidden. There are no obvious exits.

Mastema(me):
He is an undead powerful Idreth draconic-humanoid measuring twelve feet in length from snout to tail. Overlapping scales of crimson and ruby conceal the shadowy skin beneath this creature’s natural armour. Amber-eyed his features are stern, whilst his disconcerting and mildly deranged grin exposes a series of cruel white incisors. Upon the crown of his immense, ridged cranium, two serrated black horns reach upwards, a stark contrast to his vibrant reptilian scales. Spanning the length of his body, a set of thirty black inch thick barbs protrude upwards, each one several inches in length as they follow the creatures’ spine. Upon his upper, body a pair of immense crimson wings hug tightly to his body, their flesh leathery and scarred. He walks with the blessing of Iosyne.

(Brutally inserted into his Skull) : a clarion eyeglass
(upon a index finger) : a shadowy ring
(On a cloak) : a Badge of Nines
(Flung across his Immense frame) : a cloak of obscurity
(worn on a finger) : a thin black band
(Holding a cloak closed) : an opalescent mask trinket

Assembled across a blood stained alter of sandstone, an assortment of trinkets and tattered maps find their residence. Their age and condition a telling sign of the lack of activity in the temple. One particularly large brass cylinder begins to frost over, its dull surface creaking as the ice over takes it. Suddenly without sound an ancient wraith glides towards the alter, pausing briefly he turns to face you. Taking His place, a cloaked figure stretches a slender finger outwards, beckoning you to step forward.

You have emoted: A cloaked figure moves haphazardly across the sprawling temple complex, ever vigilant of the chaotic movement within the dark recesses of the alcoves. Securing an immense halberd upon his back as he moves up the raised dais, kneeling in silence. His laboured breathing causing the frigid air to stir in veils of mist as he speaks with reverence, "Your Imperial Highness, you summoned me."

His icy voice resonating in a slow and methodical tone, A cloaked figure says, "Indeed de'ragon, you are correct."

Looking beyond you surveying the sprawling complex, A cloaked figure says, "It is time you commence working towards your role within your service of the Malevolent."

Think: I wonder?

Pausing mid sentence A cloaked figure appears to consider you before continuing, His voice shifting to a near whisper, "You remember what you swore! Correct De’ragon, don’t you. "

You say, "Err.. I suppose my Lord, I swore to obey until you release me from your service Highness, yet I do not follow. What is it you are getting at precisely!"

You have emoted: A cloaked figure turns his head slightly as he listens.

Looking at you with dark red eyes, A cloaked figure says, "What else boy, and by the Gods remove your bloody hood."

You deftly lower the hood of a cloak of obscurity, revealing your identity.
Balance Used: 1.00 seconds

You say, "Highness I do not understand?"

A cloaked figure makes a mocking gesture as he does a terrible impression of your voice, "Why mi..mi..mi Lord, I's be doin me best, an all. Dis me duty mi'lord, an I be train'en hard to learn da fight Highness." His voice shifting he adds with a sinister sneer, "Is this not correct boy."

Think: What the fuck is this about, why is he summoning me after so long to the Temple. Fuck this place is putrid, and the old man seems different almost more insane than before and by Ivoln why must he insult me so. He still has that stinking robe on to, but something is less intense in his gestures. Why?

Look Riluo

He is a powerful Azudim vampire standing at well over ten feet tall. Very little physical attributes can easily be discerned about this ancient wraith. That is except for the elongated scarlet-clawed hands that protrude from beneath the end of each black sleeve. Surrounding the immense vampire, numerous strands of incorporeal icy air and tendrils of elemental shadow surge upwards forming two vast, and chaotic ethereal wings upon the Azudim Lord's back. Gazing from behind the cowl of the Wraith's tattered robes the faint outline of two piercing red eyes stare outwards, unblinking and emotionless. He walks with the blessing of Iosyne.

(Masking his frame in chaotic shadows) : a cloak of obscurity
(Burned and re-inked upon its neck) : a black-inked tattoo of a pair of crossed fists
(secured tightly) : claw-tipped steel gauntlets
(Drenched in ice upon his wrists) : a pair of silver and azure bracers
(upon his head) : an ancestral crown of Nebre'seir

You have emoted: Mastema looks at you and begins to speak, his words falling away as he tries to find meaning.

Strumming his crimson fingers upon the surface of the raised platform, a cloaked figure replies, "well Deragon it is as you perceive it too be." His voice lingering as he peers along the length of the temple complex once more, "The question I asked is irrelevant however, the response you gave will decide the outcome much sooner than you are aware little son of crows."

You say, "You told me to prove my worth to the Malevolence, and I have Highness. I have been training in the pit for a year with both fist and blade."

Think: cryptic old fuck, I beat he has been eating shrooms again or inhaling mold spores from this dump and by the Gods why does he fucking calling me that name still. I am not a child anymore. I am a man.. I even have ... never that mind she was drunk.

You say, "Your Highness I served you always as per the pact."

You have emoted: Mastema lowers his voice once more, "In my time I have grown from the Spirean boy in the field you healed, into a controller of souls." Stealing a quick glimpse the Dragonic Idreth looks up briefly at the Vampire his large yellow eyes diverting once more as he absentmindedly runs a finger across a shard buried deep within his exposed chest, "Time my lord is what we make off it. You told me only the foolish man allows time to pass without gaining a gift of sorts from her. So I TOOK power and I wield it for my own purpose."

Slowly and with purpose a cloaked figure turns too met your gaze, each movement somehow anatomically inaccurate in nature as the wraith spans the sandstone alter violently launching himself towards the prone Carnifex, the rush of air stirring the papers and maps sending them toppling to the floor, "SHOW ME BOY." the creature bellows.

You have emoted: Unable to move Mastema plants His heels into the cobblestone floor and lowers His shoulder bracing for the oncoming impact.

A cloaked figure collides into the Dragonic Carnifex, the impact jarring the ancient wraith in his tracks, the sound of crashing armour and breaking bones cause the vampire to roar with pain. His long arms extended outwards as He attempts to grapple the carnifex in a deeply embrace.

You have emoted: Seeing an opening Mastema drives his weight upwards as the wraith engulfs him in tendrils of chaotic shadow and raw power.

You have emoted: Rushing forward into the sandstone alter, and slamming the elder vampire backwards onto the floor both crumbles onto the littered sandstone his snout wrinkled as he releases an onslaught of fire from his muzzle.

The intense flames scorching his tatter robes, a cloaked figure raises one of his withered hands still clamping tightly onto the Idreth with the other, screaming in agony as the exposed flesh is consumed by the white-hot fire.

As if driven by instinct alone the wraith recoils with unnatural agility, launching upwards into the darkness above, bellowing in rage A cloaked figure sends a surge of psychic power towards you.

-----Riluo LOST REBOUNDING-----
Riluo glances towards you and your mental equilibrium is disrupted.

You begin intense concentration to restore your equilibrium.

You have emoted: His eyes darting back and forth in search of the creature Mastema takes a step back.

Think: where is the old bastard, I will fucking kill him!

You have emoted: His Dragonic voice bellowing Mastema roars, "I am Carnifex now and you will treat me like a man, not a boy anymore! I WILL BE RESPECTED FATHER!"

WIELD: hammer

Sliding back the smouldering fabric of His cowl and removing a faceless mask of ice, a cloaked figure exposes the pale lifeless face within. Slivers of chaotic shadow and frigid icy air, lash outwards in knife like fingers attempting to reattach the featureless mask back in place. His hand absent mindedly swiping the tendrils away, and smiling the old wraith secures the mask in place with his now slowly healing, smouldering left hand.

You have emoted: Now shaking with rage Mastema starts to wield a colossal hammer of the carnifex, spotting the Elder vampire high above he prepares to strike, "I see you old man." His hammer raised above his head Mastema begins to launch the weapon.

Twirling a blackened warhammer above your head, you quickly hurl it towards Riluo. The projectile hammer slams head-first into his chest, leaving him dazed and winded. You gasp in agony as shadows suddenly strike at your chest, spreading a bone-chilling cold.A jolt of raw energy travels through your weapon as it gorges itself on Riluo's soul.
Balance Used: 3.14 seconds
The hammer swiftly returns to your hand.

Tumbling to the solid marble floor below an almighty -thud- reverberates throughout the various passageways as a cloaked figure crumples to the floor below, his weapon sliding along the ground and out of reach, an ominous laugh rings out as the wraith disappears into the shadows, "Splendid boy." He chuckles, "Embrace the savagery of the battle, allow it to consume you little son of crows."

Uttering a select few words, "I am aware of all your weaknesses boy." a cloaked figure states bluntly, "You think in my absence I have not once considered our talk." He snarls.

His icy voice coming from deep within the alcoves, "It is time for you to prove you’re worth De’ragon." The wraiths voice echoes in your mind. "Show me your true nature boy." Riluo spits, emerging partially from the darkness, his tattered robe open to expose what lies within.

You have emoted: Mastema freezes in shock and as if by instinct and begins to kneel before the Prince, only catching himself at the last moment.

Chaotic strands of shadow surging upwards to form two colossal wings and numerous translucent serpentine-like tendrils lashing outwards crashing and colliding violently into the columns of the temple as Riluo fixes you with an expression of utter contempt.

You have emoted: Relinquishing his grip on the hammer Mastema lowers his stance and drops a war-hammer of the Carnifex, the sound of solid steel impacting with the cold ground, causing the sound to reverberate deep into the recesses of the temple complex.

Think: I have no choice ..

In the distance a scream of agony surges upwards from the swirling pit of souls accompanied by an eerie jade glow, revealing the shrouded image of ancient friezes upon the walls depicting dragons devouring immense armies of mortal men. Overhead the images of Galleus presenting Prince Riluo with a scythe. A sense of dread lingers in the back of your mind as the vastness of the temple is revealed in the fleeting afterglow of the central pit.

You have emoted: Mastema rips the clamps of his armour loose allowing the darken steel plate to slide to the ground, dropping suddenly to all fours the crimson Dragon-humanoid releases a torrent of fire that fills the atmosphere in a blinding molten-blue glow, its intensity enough to vaporise any trace of moisture in the air. As the smoke and heat disperses, Mastema spreads his wings and launches forward claws spread.

Think: …forgive me father.

Riluo watches as your massive wings unfold with the soft, dry sound of skin sliding over skin. The motion creating a gust of near-silent wind that spread outwards dispersing the icy coat upon the ground around you, like ripples in a pond, "Much better boy, now show me your darkness, embrace your nature."

You have emoted: With ever stride, your chest heaving and blood racing you surge onwards, your large amber eyes tunnelling in on the vampire. Drawing in a second burst of air you prepare to burn the creature once more, collide heavily you send Riluo asunder. Growling you shakes with rage.

Riluo recoils far too late, his ribs imploding inwards from the impact, piercing his lungs and internal organs as you send his malformed body backward crushes against a column, the terracotta lamp high above falling with a crash against his head, and the thick oil within drenching him.

Riluo growls menacingly.

You have emoted: Standing over Riluo, Mastema discharge the built up flame engulfing his prey in the flames the heat kissing against his scales. Driven by ancient primal needs you raise your head giving a guttural bellow of triumph, your roars resonating across the vastness. Whilst the heat of the flames causes no concern, a new sense of foreboding dread reaches the recesses of your mind, its touch all too well known.

Fire pulsing with life across his body Riluo rips violently at his face, the boiling ooze of treacle-like fluid dripping from his now empty eye sockets, whilst his skin falls away in slithering clumps of molten fat and sinew. Still thrashing his elongated hands he finds new flesh, claws piercing, and fangs gnashing he clamps tightly to you like a child starving for substance from its mothers breast.

You have emoted: As the creature begins to drain you, Mastema begins to slowly lose consciousness, falling into the darkness of its vampiric embrace. Yet you still sense it, the foreboding voice as it whispers softly in your mind.

Riluo withdraws his assault, still smouldering, its flesh mildly healed as the congealed blood begins to crisp and crackle under the intense heat of his burning robes and melting flesh, where once were empty sockets now reside piercing crimson eyes.

Dominus, Prince Riluo Nebre'seir smiles and says, "Splendid."

Think: fucking old bastard just die already you mad cunt.

You have emoted: You watch as the flesh upon the Prince begins to solidify taking new shape, once melted and disintegrate the wraith starts to take shape, his towering form imposing, awe inspiring to behold and unnatural. "Lord forgive me, I did... not mean..." the words fall short as you see Riluo truly for the first time, his exposed chest a surging maelstrom of chaotic tendrils of pulsing shadow each one reminiscent of the hands of a screaming child, groping, pleading and stretching outwards. His true face frozen in eternal youth with wisps of ethereal ice and shadow coalescing to reform a featureless mask of ice. Unable to comprehend it all at once you begin to retreat backwards your hind legs faltering and crashing underneath you.

Riluo calls upon his mental prowess, unleashing his psychic force and battering your mind, "Why do you hold back my son, you are De'ragon never yield… embrace it."

Striding towards you Riluo reaches an elongated hand under your chin his emotionless eyes a stark contrast to the soft words that pour into your mind, "stand my child."

You have emoted: Shaking with a combination of rage and adrenalin Mastema begins to rise to his feet, no longer on all fours you stare down at Riluo. His hand struggling to rest under your chin, yet your desire to be close causes you to stoop slightly for the all familiar touch of he who raised you. "Yes father." You send back through the link, "but why.. why did you." you trial off, your amber eyes gazing down at the wraith.

Dominus, Prince Riluo Nebre'seir says, "Because my boy, you are mine and I want you to become strong."

You have emoted: Mastema looks taken back.

Riluo strains his neck as he looks up at you, his clawed hand scratching your scaly chin, "You are De'ragon, son of crows, Carnifex." He states. "But above all you are my son and I am proud of you." He whispers softly. Turning away, the old wraith begins to walk towards the dais, slumping into the throne he makes a beckoning gesture into the darkness, the scrapping of steel reveals a colossal ethereal weapon ascending out of the sandstone into its master’s outstretched right hand, his left hand waving you away absent-mindedly.

Dominus, Prince Riluo Nebre'seir says, "Leave in peace my son and train harder."

You say, "By your will Your Highness."

His eyes boring heavily into the back of your head Riluo snarls, "Know this lad, when I call you next I will return the favour two-fold, your pain was delightful and filled me with hope, thus I think it only fair that I teach you my type of pain in return."

Think: fuck!

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Not the best but it opened up further rp in the future and was a chance to practice without a lot of pressure.