im back eyyey.
Nam I love you btw. Thanks for your reviews .
Armour: Brimflame
Weapon: Winter's Fury, Undine Retribution, Stormfront Razor
Acc(11/11): The Bee, Celestial cuffs, Mana Flower, Sorcerer Emblem, Cryo Wings, Asgardian Aegis, Deific Amulet, Angel Treads, Grand Gelatin, Permafrost's Concotion, Evasion Scarf. (Unlimited Buffs)
Health: (500/500)
The walls breathe.
They crawl, the dark bricks undulating and shifting in a sickeningly nauseous manner - oozing velvety black ink from between their seams as if the very boundaries of space are swelling and crushing under insurmountable pressure. The ground, once so solid beneath their feet, is swaying and pitching, curling and turning in a way that hurls them about and scatters them like marbles on pavement. It's as if they are standing upon the wild surface of the sea! They sting and strain as they tumble about and over each other, their ears ringing with an otherworldly noise and their throats coated in bile. Such a thing... they have never experienced before. CC agents are immune to magic. Pure mana is blind to them. It flows through them as if they didn't exist... but agents were not immune to fire, nor ice, nor lightning, nor hallways that rocked and flipped like a boat about to capsize.
And typically whilst combating mages, this was no problem at all! Truly manipulating the elements required such an immense amount of power - only a select few did so regularly. Named entities, mostly: Calamitas The Witch, Permafrost The Archmage, The King himself, The Cultist... Indeed, only the strongest of mages were threats to Yharim's top agents. Normal magicians merely molded their mana to resemble flame, borrowing the properties to give their magic life. They crystallized it into the image of ice. They coalesced it into great stone, and rained blades of magic from the sky. So - when the strange dragon-eyed man opened his mouth and let an incantation fall from his tongue, the group scoffed as spears of shadow passed harmlessly through them.
But now, they are not scoffing.
The man with dragon eyes watches them from beside the lantern. His arms are crossed over his chest; he's leaned back languidly against the cobblestone wall with his throat bared as if inviting an attack. He's staring at at them with wide, wide eyes and the corners of his mouth continually twitch as if he's doing his best not to break out into throes of laughter. His expression enrages them. Imperial Clandestine Corps are feared throughout the nation for their ruthlessness and unnatural abilities. They are Draedon's pride and joy, men and women who had been altered with beastial DNA and pumped so full of chemical bloodlust that they live for nothing but the deaths of The King's enemies. Nobody laughed at CC agents. Whoever was foolish enough to do so would surely face an untimely and violent end.
But The Man with Dragon eyes is haughty. He bares his teeth as them when he speaks, a sicky, excited light burns in those slit pupils.
"You poor bastards..."
The floor becomes still and they all fall into a heap of black cloth and sharp elbows. The stones groan and creak as they return to their places in cobbled floor. The only sound that fills their ears is the panicked shuffling of cloth and the scrape of shoes as the whole troupe leap to their feet and fall into formation. The hive mind connecting them fills with queries and fears. Do they run? Where to? Back outside into the freezing blizzard? Yet if they run, surely the dragon-man will inform his superiors, and The Resistance will sweep for them and find them. They'd be hunted down and slaughtered like dogs long before reinforcements arrive. No. They must succeed. They must not raise the alarm until Yharim himself arrives to tear this place apart, brick by brick...
They are eight men strong.
So they must take down this single enemy. This... odd, magical enemy. He is unassuming - well built, but his appearance is uncharacteristically young for the battle-hardened look in his eye. He's unarmed and lacking any sort of physical protection, but his confidence in himself is absolute. Indeed, he's full of contradictions. He wears a pheasants' garb, but carries himself as if he commands kings. He has no name, but boasts magical prowess that rivals the great mages of old. Just who is this?
Doesn't matter.
All are same in death.
The pointman rushes forward, his figure merely a streak in the dark hallway for the speed at which he lunges, his black steel blade raised to deal a deadly strike. The two men behind him kneel and pull out crossbows whose bolts are tipped in deadly poison. They take aim simultaneously, and fire. They are of Draedon's more recent creations... CC Agents who have been equipped with limited telepathic abilities in order that they may fight in a group like a well oiled machine. Sure, the original agents - First Generation - were dangerous and well respected, their steel was forged in the heat of battle and their knowledge and devotion were unmatched... but concerning pure ability, newer was always better. There was scarcely a man who could stand against a troupe of 4th Generation CC Agents and come out alive.
*thud-thud-thud-thud*
Wet noises, like the sound of raw meat when it falls to the countertop. There's no shout as the pointman collapses in a hea- no, a pile of limbs. He's died too quickly, instantaneously. In the blink of an eye, he's been sectioned and sliced through as if by the sharpest of knives. Everyone freezes. What happened?! Blades of mana cannot slice them. No, did the air itself compress into invisible razors? What enormous power must this mage be using, nay, wasting?! If he had enough power to bend and create elements, he could have easily blown their brains from the inside... but instead, The Man with Dragon eyes just watches them, his pupils blown wide and his teeth clenched in a way that they catch the lantern light oddly. He still hasn't moved from his position against the wall. He speaks again, casually.
"Had I not happened to be passing here, you might have succeeded in whatever you were planning. Bad Luck. I pity you. What are you here for anyways?"
Silence for a long moment, then he yawns. The instant he seems distracted, a second round of poisoned bolts fly. This time, they aren't cut down... they simply disintegrate. Not even dust remains. The man doesn't seem particularly offended that they've tried to shoot him. He simply continues to speak while observing his fingernails in an expressly performative fashion.
"To be honest, I don't really care what you're here for. I'm just glad you're stronger than the average riff-raff. Perhaps you can show me something interesting. I haven't the opportunity to do anything since my magic has come back to me, and-"
A bomb flies forward, landing at The Dragon Man's feet and exploding with a great bang. Smoke fills the hall, and collectively, the group turns tail and runs. This man... he will be the death of them. They've decided it's better to brave the blizzard and the patrols than facing the man who could kill them with a wave of his finger. How terribly they've misjudged him! Was this... could it be The Resistance Hero? The one even Yharim feared?!
A thought crackles frantically through the shared hivemind. "Broadcasting to Central". Second in command has already determined it is unlikely they will escape alive and has begun to upload the incident to Draedon databases at the CC Headquarters. And as unhappy each of troupe 403B is to hear this, they cannot help but agree. They have travelled down a long, straight corridor to confront The Dragon Man, so if they were to flee - they must likewise flee in a straight line. It's a fatal funnel so speed is of essence. Still, it would take only a moment for The Hero to cut them all down...
"That was rude."
Suddenly they're running through smoke. Odd. Is... is that a lantern? They skid to a stop, nearly piling over each other as once more, they find themselves face to face with those burning dragon's eyes. What happened! Had they been turned around? Did the corridor flip 180 degrees? Had it curved into a circle? Whatever happened, The Hero clearly thinks he is exceedingly clever for it. He's still standing in the same position as before, only now, the look of gloating satisfaction rests on his delicate features. His voice is excited. It inspires dread in the remaining seven Agents.
"I can't let you run now. The fun's not even started. Here... pay attention. I learned this from one of my Teacher's books and prepared the summoning spell in advance because I wanted to try it against somebody..."
He reaches out a hand and only then do they see he has a tremendous number of intricate, gossamer tattoos printed on his skin. Something crawls and, for as odd as it seems, the pattern becomes solid and drips viscous to the floor where it blooms into a summoning circle - brimming and squirming with a cold, abyssal power. Something vast rumbles and stirs from within the confines of those glowing lines and each of The Troupe is filled with a terrible dread. The Hero steps back. His toothy grin is evident now, a swath of white splitting his boyish face in a single cruel stroke. He speaks again, but his voice is muffled as if they're underwater.
"Observe... The Nightgaunts. Faceless dream-creatures in service to The Lord of The Great Abyss. I've been dying to see these hunters in action... so hope you'll enjoy this as much as I."
*And what of N68*
"Expired at 18:00 Yesterday, sir."
*Disappointing but not unexpected -kzzt- N69 status*
The zoologist sighed as she flipped through her clipboard of failures. Project Nephelim was going... badly, and despite the genius of their head scientist, it seems they've been entirely unable to compete with The Resistance of all people. What an insult, and what a shame! To think a bunch of uneducated, rag-tag troglodytes were able to create a Terrarian (who even knew you could create them!) and The Capitol's labs were not?! King Yharim knew the implications of have a Terrarian as an enemy. He was well aware it was his own death knell - and so, he had emptied the imperial coffers upon Draedon's labs, instructing them to duplicate A Terrarian at all costs. Soon enough, they were nigh drowning in funding. It has been nearly a month. They've churned through a thousand test subjects. A great variety of rare and difficult to obtain reagents have been consumed. An entirely new lab was built beneath The Capitol... and they had zero results to show for it. Even Draedon, who didn't even have emotions in the traditional sense, seemed to be becoming distressed.
"N69: likewise Expired, cardiac arrest today at 02:30. Subject survived the initial insertion of Frost Golem DNA, but the anti-freeze in the blood made the pulmonary valves too brittle. Although specimen exhibited excellent regeneration and high degree of control over elemental magic, it expired shortly afterwards due to a ruptured heart."
*N70*
"N70 current status is invalid. The werewolf curse combined with a partial eidolon transformation caused the diaphragm to seize. Subject was unable to draw breath outside of ventilator. Currently working on fixing the respiratory system with gene technology, but due to subject's state, we could not run aptitude tests upon it."
*We need Results Zoologist -kzzt- The Tyrant is becoming agitated thus there is no need to remain strictly organic if we merely seek a functional equivalent -kzzt- Androids or cyborgs are permissible -kzzt- Employ our best cybernetics upon Subject 1 and 2 and have them battle ready as soon as possible for the front lines*
"Understood sir. Right away sir."
Braelor couldn't say he necessarily missed the mountain's perpetual winters, seemingly made only more potent by the presence of The Archmage and his mastery over the freezing elements, but nevertheless - he was dreadfully glad to be back here, even if the front lines sorely needed him. The Archmage himself had requested he come due to imminent emergency. Initially, the old soldier had half a mind to refuse. After all, was he the kind of man who came and went as his enemies beckoned? Was he to go when told to, and come when called? Nonsense... but The Resistance Headquarters might be at stake. Braelor would bear any indignity for the sake of bringing down The Tyrant - so although Braelor hated the man who had deposed him, he appeared as summoned for the sake of The Resistance. At the very least, The Archmage did not request he come into the castle to speak. Perhaps even the snooty old mage knew bounderies.
"Lord Braelor, how terribly glad I am that you've acquiesced to my summons."
"..."
The Half-titan did not respond. Instead, he raked his eyes over frail old man and huffed heavily from his nostrils as the blustering winds seemed to blow straight through his armour - chilling him to his bones. The two of them were standing at the base of The Archmage's drawbridge and staring each other down. Luckily, The Archmage did not look half as smug as he normally did. He easily told Braelor anything he wanted to hear (whether this was truth or lie, the half-titan would later confirm) and seemed to actually be relieved he had come. Although he still puttered around on that magical chair and huffed from his snowflake pipe, he lacked the poise he had when he first arrived. Indeed, he looked quite gaunt, haggard and shaken. There was even fear in those cold cyan eyes. Fear of what? Had The Sea King threatened to execute him? Had Yharim contacted him, demanding he move? Perhaps he was truly looking for The Resistance's best interests, or perhaps he had an ulterior motive concerning The Hero. Hmm...what a mess.
In any case, Braelor felt that whatever suspicion The Archmage had garnered was well earned. He looked down upon him with a critical, accusative eye.
"You've caused The Resistance a great deal of trouble, Archmage. Do not think I have come out of any goodwill towards you. I assure you, there is none. But only because there is a risk to The Headquarters. My coalition is cracking at the seams. There are rumors of CC Agents infiltrating my ranks... and then there's you, whom The Cultist and The Sea King claim are also serving under The Tyrant. Indeed, I have half a mind to execute you where you stand."
The Old Mage's laugh was tense, but his sneer was genuine.
"Things have gotten messy, Braelor. You may blame whoever you want, but the finger pointing must take place after the crisis. For now, I have reason to believe Yharim himself will strike this place soon. My scout has reported that he's seen The Tyrant searching the plains in the south. There is no doubt he is searching for us."
Braelor raised an eyebrow. Yharim himself? That... was quite a threat indeed. Perhaps he and Statis together could hope to repel him, but only marginally and with much collateral damage. How would The Archmage know this anyways?! The Sea King and The Cultist have long suspected him of being a traitor, but Braelor did not believe it. However, if he was claiming to know The Tyrant's battle strategy, then what else could The Archmage be but a spy? Braelor narrowed his eyes, hissing his words through his teeth.
"Your scout, Archmage?"
"The Hero."
Braelor curled his lips into a snarl behind his helmet but did not interject. He simply drummed his armoured fingers against his gauntlets. He glared at The Archmage, but held his tongue as the Old mage continued.
"The Tyrant had accosted The Hero, and sensed my cloaking magic on him. I have... a hunch that he is somehow tracking me, which is why I insisted on leaving. Your colleagues refused to allow me to, and thus is the emergency. You must allow me to flee as soon as possible and likewise secure your men in the event of annihilation. You must send the bulk of your troops away from this place immediately!"
"..."
How ridiculous. Set the traitor free and send his troops away from the headquarters and leave the heart of The Resistance undefended? Surely only a spy would suggest something so blatantly detrimental. This place was Braelor's castle, protected by hundreds of years worth of spells and enchantments. It had remained undetected - despite the comings and goings of many - for a millennia, and was possibly the safest place on the continent from The King's influence. To abandon it was suicide.
But... if The Archmage had truly betrayed them and given The King their location, then perhaps it was best they abandon it after all? However, if The Archmage was truly a spy - why would he be giving Braelor this information?!
Braelor sighed and cursed himself. If only The Hero had been killed by Cryogen, nay, if only that stupid brat had obeyed instructions like he was supposed to, then none of this would be happening. He mustn't forget that whelp was still at large - running about, killing resistance officers and hiding in plain sight (as most of the resistance troops didn't know his face.) Was The Hero was working as a scout under The Archmage? Had he grown attached to that old man? If so, despite all of his threatenings to kill the old man, he mustn't, for fear of drawing more of The Terrarian's ire. What a mess.
Braelor looked down at The Archmage and studied his face. There was nothing to be read there.
He must consult Statis and The Sea King, for this was a mess indeed.
OKAY Politics again, sorry:
The Players: Braelor, Sea King, Hero, Cultist, Yharim, Coalition, Archmage
Braelor: Goal is to keep The Coalition together (the group of many resistance cells united under one flag to fight Yharim's troops). They united when they recieved the news that Braelor had a Terrarian - The Hero - under his control. When The Hero rebelled, Braelor was forced to dicipline him for fear The Coalition would disperse, thinking he was a weak leader. He ends up making The Hero terrified of/hate him. He sends The Hero to go die more vs Cryogen in an attempt to break his spirit - but he ends of beating Cryogen and freeing The Archmage, who has a grudge against Braelor for not freeing him after so long (they have a long history of different ideas ). Archmage pulls a stunt claiming The Hero has died and succeeds in influencing The Coalition into deposing Braelor from the commander position. Braelor goes off to the front lines for a while, before recieving a letter from The Archmage asking he come back urgently.
Sea King: Sea King has two goals. 1) Beat Yharim, 2) Raise Moon Lord. He is the think tank of The Resistance, and doesn't have much of a relationship with The Hero at all. After being freed from The Giant clam by The Guide and The Slayer, he escapes the compound and is picked up by Resistance assets. Upon observing The many suspicious actions of The Archmage, he puts him under arrest and tells him to await trial.
Hero: He and The Coalition are the lynchpins of the entire Resistance operation. A powerful fighter and a symbol of hope - The Coalition looks to him, although he does not know it. Was scorned by Braelor and The Cultist, before attaching himself to The Archmage. Recently, The Cultist helped him seal away doppelganger in exchange for transporting The Moon Lord's body from The dungeon. He was accosted by Yharim, and because of this - The Empire now how a trail on the Resistance HQ Location. The Archmage has put his allegiance behind The Hero, believing that Terrarians were destined to be leaders. He also was accused of being a CC agent, and put the resistance on edge that they might have been infiltrated.
Cultist: Hates the Archmage because of their past. His goal is to Raise the moon lord and defeat Yharim - because he will surely be killed if Yharim wins. He betrayed the empire by defecting to The Resistance and raising a Terrarian for them (The Hero). His action of summoning The Hero also created The Slayer, killed everyone in The Guide's village and broke The Dryad's enchantment - thereby releaseing The Crimson from its boundaries. (rip lol)
Yharim: The big bad. He's searching for The Resistance HQ, thinking if he just destroys them, he will lessen the threat of The Terrarian. He knows that Terrarians are immortal, and wants to create one of his own (via Draedon) to neutralize that threat.
Coalition: The Resistance Army. So long as these guys are together, they can fight The Imperial troops at a standstill.
Archmage: The Hero's friend, and increasingly the enemy of The Resistance. In his goodwill towards The Hero, he has feigned the hero's death so he might be free. Ofc, The resistance brass knows he will respawn, and constantly nag him to give the Hero back - But Arch refuses. Still, The Coalition takes comfort that a powerful mage has joined their side, which is why they haven't yet scattered after The Hero's 'death'. After Hero gets grabbed by Yharim, Arch is beset with a feeling that the end is coming soon. He moves The Hero's spawn point, and begins to prepare for the end - convinced Yharim himself will attack the HQ (which is correct btw). He is not a traitor, but almost everyone thinks he is.
Slayer (writing): A Theif
Faze: "Thief?"
S: "Theif"
F: "I before E, except after C"
S (writing): A Thceif
F: No.
I've been putting off the politics ahhgh. I hope that's enough to make the story go forward.
ty love all. Kudos to Co-author as well.
Join the discord we have tonnes of art if you wanna see the character appearences. You don't have to chat it's just an art stash. 6YGmZ39vvT