Al Múrin
Established
Roleplay posts: 14
Physical Description: The character itself is merely a shadow in the mortal realm, a manifestation struggling to stay alive, fighting tooth and nail to appear human.
Registered: Sept 21, 2015 12:23:15 GMT -8
|
Post by Al Múrin on Sept 22, 2015 9:41:13 GMT -8
Tomb of Al MúrinIn a desolate valley somewhere north lies the ruin of a once beautiful city. Most buildings have not stood the test of time, either visible in the shape of rubble or a measly wall. One building had endured however. A humble structure embedded into a hill was still standing, the stone once decorated and beautiful, now eroded and no more special than the rest of the ruins.A solid metal door enchanted with spells lost in time stands firm behind two barely identifiable statues. This door would be entirely impossible to pass through unless one knew the password. What lies beneath this ruin is as much a mystery as the very existence of the place. There is however an inscription on the door that reads:
Vak Nemolo Ath Uldu
Al Múrin Dregor Lomos
Elividorh
|
|
Elividorh
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Physical Description: This elf is tall and slender, dressed in robes of the finest silk. A staff rests within the palm of the traveler, his face concealed by an over sized hood.
Registered: Sept 24, 2015 12:20:36 GMT -8
|
Post by Elividorh on Sept 25, 2015 15:03:03 GMT -8
A bright flash lit up the ruins of a once great city, a minor shock wave kicked up a fair amount of dust in Elividorh's surroundings. As soon as he arrived he could feel him, his presence always lingering in the air. A chill ran down the elf's spine as he navigated his way through the ruins with his staff.
It was odd to walk the very same streets, gaze upon the same hills and mountains, and yet have them be so different. He could not linger, it was just a swift check and then he had to be gone. He made his way up the steps towards the door, panting slightly from power walking through the vast ruins.
His palm met with the door. It was still sealed, just as he had left it. He wiped away whatever filth nature had covered it in, revealing the inscription. He mumbled to himself, haunting memories washing over him as he reminisced. The strangest feeling washed over Elividorh, and quite suddenly.
"It can't be..." he thought to himself, turning slowly to face the staircase leading down to the ruins.
|
|
Ithlirir
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Physical Description: It appears a man, a very tall and broad person draped in black cloth from head to toe. There is no flesh visible, although the cloth seems filled out, as if wrapped around a strong frame. A sword hangs down the side of this being, the scabbard long and black, engraved with symbols. The hands and feet of this character are covered in layered metal, and on first glance could almost appear as scale.
The cloth has withered, and it is quite dirty from extensive travel. A hood is pulled over what appears a head, although there is no face to be found, only darkness.
Registered: Sept 20, 2015 17:59:44 GMT -8
|
Post by Ithlirir on Sept 25, 2015 15:34:13 GMT -8
Whispers echoed in the valley, and a voice strong enough to crumble mountains spoke. The words were in Elvish.
"The cold of an eternal starless night approaches. The mountains and the seas will fall, and you will know the end of days".
Suddenly Ithlirir stepped out of the shadows, his sword raised in front of the abyss that made up his face. "You made a mistake coming here" he whispered in Elvish.
|
|
Elividorh
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Physical Description: This elf is tall and slender, dressed in robes of the finest silk. A staff rests within the palm of the traveler, his face concealed by an over sized hood.
Registered: Sept 24, 2015 12:20:36 GMT -8
|
Post by Elividorh on Sept 25, 2015 15:40:54 GMT -8
Elividorh felt the voice darken his very being, it was the words of a friend, and a foe. He jumped slightly at the whispers from Ithlirir, pointing his staff at the wraith as he reached for his saber. "You will not take me!" Elividorh said firmly, tapping his staff into the stone beneath him with decisive force.
He chanted incantations causing a light to grow at the tip of his staff, illuminating the area. He charged his foe, striking Ithlirir with his blade.
|
|
Ithlirir
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Physical Description: It appears a man, a very tall and broad person draped in black cloth from head to toe. There is no flesh visible, although the cloth seems filled out, as if wrapped around a strong frame. A sword hangs down the side of this being, the scabbard long and black, engraved with symbols. The hands and feet of this character are covered in layered metal, and on first glance could almost appear as scale.
The cloth has withered, and it is quite dirty from extensive travel. A hood is pulled over what appears a head, although there is no face to be found, only darkness.
Registered: Sept 20, 2015 17:59:44 GMT -8
|
Post by Ithlirir on Sept 25, 2015 16:06:43 GMT -8
The voice again boomed as Elividorh and Ithlirir crossed swords. "You have lived a long life friend... But in death you serve a far greater purpose".
Ithlirir screeched as his advances forced Elividorh to frantically parry.
"You must face your doom" The voice sounded again, mixing in with the sound of the elf and the wraith's steel clashing.
|
|
Elividorh
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Physical Description: This elf is tall and slender, dressed in robes of the finest silk. A staff rests within the palm of the traveler, his face concealed by an over sized hood.
Registered: Sept 24, 2015 12:20:36 GMT -8
|
Post by Elividorh on Sept 25, 2015 16:32:56 GMT -8
Elividorh struck with precision, bringing his blade to the wraith with not a shred of mercy. The light at the tip of his staff was wavering, growing ever weaker as the wraith pressed on. Finally Elividorh connected, forcing his sword to pierce the torso of the wraith. There was no screech, only silence. The wraith fell onto its back, its fingers scratching gently at the surface of the stone.
Elividorh pointed the tip of his staff at the head of the wraith, muttering two words. A light emitted from staff, consuming the wraith, banishing it. Silence fell over the valley, and Elividorh felt relief wash over him, but something else as well. He furrowed his eyebrows, letting his fingertips slide gently down his side. It was warm, wet and just then, the pain hit him.
He fell to his knees, struggling to get a good look at the wound. The wraith's blade had buried itself deep in his side, and he had not felt a thing. In his desperation, Elividorh tore at the robe, revealing a cut just below his ribs. Blood was oozing, his veins were tight against his skin, and it suddenly hit him.
The poison traveled within him, and fast. He felt his heart pound in his chest, his sight worsening by the second. His palms were against the stone, and he didn't even feel the mixture of saliva and blood drip from his mouth, he was numb. He struggled to draw breath, the agony taking over as his senses abandoned him entirely.
He had expected to hear the voice mock or laugh, but it did neither. There was silence, not even the wind dared speak up. This had been the intent, not to kill him, this was his fate.
Elividorh drifted, walking the line between life and death as clouds pass in the night sky above him.
|
|