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Thread: Round 2: Revenant (Sylvanas) VS. Berserker (Ra-Ja) - Judge LiveVoltage

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    Sylvanas.

    That was her name.


    ... and instead of taking a step back, she would tackle the creature. There was a small burst of triumph as her motion made solid contact with the foe, and even more when it was successful, pushing the scaled warrior back and away from her even. It was enough to give her a moment to recover from the affects of the holy powers, at least in her form in battle, even though her strength still felt slightly sapped. Her form still unwillingly buckled, forcing her to one knee, and her hands to the ground. There was not much hope of seeing anything, but every other sensation continued. Pain from being attacked. The touch of her palms on the ground. The feeling of everything being twisted and corrupted around her.

    Another roar washed over the sound scape of the breaking temple, making the thunderous rumbling on the failing building and still wailing organ seem nothing more than a faint crackle and a sigh. There was power in that roar, from the rage that contained that was like a fire on its own. Flames that brushed at her mind as much as blasting in her ears. But it wasn't a simple rage. There was more power to it, something familiar that once again caused her mind to flick away.

    She was killed and enslaved by dark magics and even darker Gods.

    Dust was the tears of the stone, and the music the voice it would never have. The place would become even further lost, nothing but broken stone as its vigil ended. What already passed in memory would soon pass in sight too. Above, the few remaining glass panes in the windows shattered, mosaic depictions of the places history lost. Glass shards rained down around the Revenant, but she did not feel them.

    She was made to play a game of killing for the entertainment of mysterious Game Makers (Or was that true?)

    Reality. The scaled warrior was advancing, but not on her. Its hand reached down towards something, but it wasn't until she felt the presence of the sword rear out that she realized what it was. It seemed Death was to be discarded, left behind for a new power. The Darkness within her once again merely seemed amused, and she felt it push against her mind, willing her to act. To strike out when the foe was distracted. To kill and destroy the feeble power that dared try and match them, even if was just their toy that did the work. To bring all to Darkness, so that they might be.

    And, by killing so freely, what separated her the Dark Gods?

    The thought quaked through her like the tolling of an almighty bell. She looked over to her opponent, hidden in the dust. To the Scaled warrior whom fought with undying ferocity. To him.

    The thought, the moment of doubt was all the darkness needed.

    She tried to bring back the walls from before. The precious one memory. The sound of her name. But they were broken and discarded like twigs as the Dark Ones once again seized hold of that body which she thought she owned. She realized that her independence was nothing but a game, that no matter what she did, she would be owned.

    But that did not mean she would give up.

    "Flee!" Sylvanas shouted, even though her voice would be swallowed. Lost in the sound of dark music. The rage of the other in the soprano. The middle registration was the thundering stone. And the pedal was the Darkness, seeping from underfoot in low toned menace.

    Darkness. That was all she knew. But, from Darkness came truth...

    In front of them, the lizardman began its charge. The Revenant remained half kneeling, a mockery of prayer made of dark twisted metal and violent intent. The stench of corruption would multiply, becoming an almost oppressive and nauseating thing. Life simply was too an ugly thing, and wouldn't do at all. Frostmourne was too far away grab easily, and other powers that would remedy that power seemed locked away somehow. But there were enough tools, even at their feet, to deal with such a pest.

    The lizardman made its attack, leaping into the air, seeming to try and swipe down at their kneeling form. Larger pieces of rubble began to cascade down from the ceiling. Somewhere on the other side of the cathedral, a massive crack could be heard as an entire piece of wall fell. The music continued still, an eternal and entrapping lament. Beautiful.

    Just as the foe reached the apex of its attack, the Revenant suddenly sprung up from the ground. In their hand was a jagged shard of glass, once a rose color and now thick with dust and almost visible corruption, which they jabbed upwards. The foe moved differently than anticipated, trying to leap over rather than simply strike, but the foe was still slow. Weakened. It seemed as if the shard, corrupted and poisoned as the rest of the building, would land in flesh somewhere.

    And then it would be all over.

    Another crash could be heard, following the last from the wall in a cascade of destruction. It seemed the Vigil had made its last stand.

    And the truth began, as she remembered that stolen time between rounds. There were two voices speaking. One, speaking first, was softer than the other, more warm like filtered light. The second was sharper, like gravel crunching underfoot. They spoke from somewhere beyond where she was contained, and seemed to think they would be unheard. But, the Darkness heard, and never forgot.

    "Once the fighters are chosen, there is nothing that can be done. We have no choice but to go through with it, even if it means-"

    "We can't contain it. It will doom us all."

    "No, not if we play it right. We give her a choice..."

    "Do you really think that will work?"

    "What other choice do we have?"

    "Try and fix the error. Stack the odds against it as much as we can and stop it before things get worse... It wasn't even meant to be here in the first place."

    "The Great One won't like this..."

    "As you said, what choice do we have?"


    Who was she?

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    When all else is gone, the bones always remain...

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    Spoiler: Judgment is upon ye. 


    GM POST
    As the music reaches its climax, the very foundation of the cathedral begins to crumble and fall apart. The ceiling collapses and with its collapse, threatens to crush all underneath it.

    (Sik, you and Val can decide on how you want to write the victory post if you chose to have one that is.)

  3. #13
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    Default A Vaidia and Siks epic ending co-op!

    Berserker let out a pained roar as he felt the shard of glass slash across his tail and instantly burn like a red hot knife. Spinning quickly he faced the womanthing and using his holy iced claws he stabbed into her stomach, he felt the claws connect, but the pain of the glass shard, the screaming of the Organ, and the impending doom promised by the collapsing building forced him to spring away from the dark creature and feeling the burning of his rage sway he settled into a ready stance ignoring the pain radiating from his tail. Glaring at the woman he felt the biting ice continuing to cool and with it cooled his bloodlust.

    Now he studied the womanthing his attacks obviously hurt her, but he needed to end her or reach the gates that have been calling to him this entire time. Something told him that through those gates was his freedom and more of his memory.
    "You will not rob Berserker of his memories creature! Prepare yourself to die!"

    What a pitiful creature.

    They watched the thing as it tore away from them, disengaging like a hand that touched something too hot. The matter of the fight was over, really. Their final strike was more than just a simple slash, but a poisoning that would consume, so long as their tyrannical force remained anchored here by its tool. The thing had no choice but to engage, as soon enough--

    The music increased into one final swell, every pipe sounding at once into a cluster chord of sound. The entire building began to shudder, and it seemed the very ground began to tremble in anticipation of what was about to happen.

    The thing seemed to be saying something, but even if they could hear the words they would matter little to their ears, the intent nothing to their thoughts. The only language they cared for was the music of screams and agony, and that is what they would do. Bring pain, and surely this round would end with them as the victor, before both of them were crushed beneath the stone. They found they could still focus the corrupting energies and did so, reaching one hand out to direct its intent, turning the simple weakening into malicious withering.

    The round would end in time, wouldn't it?

    The lizardman felt the womanthing redouble her efforts on trying to corrupt and weaken him further. But he was already near the bottom of the possibility for weakening. Berserker would not allow her to beat him so easily. Charging once more he had a final idea to end this, it would need to work otherwise they would be crushed. The final pillar was all that was keeping the world around the Gates of Judgement from collapsing. He reached the creature, grabbed her outstretched and using the last ounce of his rage spun her around and hurled her heavy metal body into the pillar. He did not wait to see if the juggernaut would hit, running back to Death he grabbed the heavy sword and ran for the Gates. He just hoped he had enough power left to open the seemingly impossible gates, following their echoing presence the blind lizardman ran not paying attention to the woman or the sword he had just thrown her closer to.

    Like anything, there was a balance to things. Life and Death. Growth and Decay. And, with their power such was also true. The focus in on the corruption turning to pain ended the restrictions on the foe's speed, and allowed it to move quickly. Much quicker than they would anticipate, as moments later the large lizard form emerged from the dust, detestably coated claws gripping around their extended hand before wrenching them away. It was testament to the the strength of the warrior, to have so much strength left even after being weakened so much. What a wonderful pawn it could make.

    The Revenant was thrown against the pillar, but not with the strength the lizardman had hoped, or at least not enough to completely knock the pillar over, only weakening it further. After crashing into the pillar, they caught poor footing on the rugged ground, stumbling even further away from the enemy. And the Gate.

    The Gate.

    They had almost forgotten the arbitrary inclinations laid out from the beginning. And this had them moving again, but not before something caught their attention. A familiar chill that touch both mind and soul, even as the winter storm waged on around them, Frostmourne. It seemed as soon as the blade's name crossed their mind, it was in their hand. Amongst so much destruction, the blade itself seemed to be no more than a sliver of darkness, but even the smallest wound could do the most damage.

    They charged forward, moving as the final pillar, rather than falling, became covered with various cracks like lightening scars from the stress of the weight and being weakened so much already. It was to time attack now, or have them both buried here. The Gamemakers would not go for such a thing, to set the odds against them both in such a way.


    As Berserker heard his opponent rush towards him he gripped Death feeling the last shard of the holy ice on his hands break off and Death slowly begins taking back it's place in the lizardman's mind. But Ra-Ja had fully secured his place there already. Preparing himself for the final blow Berserker stepped back and placed his hand on the wood of the gates hoping to use it as a springboard into his attack.

    As his cold hand touched the wood though many things happened at once. One the screaming the Organ suddenly stopped, two the blizzard instantly died down leaving just the cold blanket it had been covering the ground with. Third the building seemed to stop it's crumbling path with only the stones of the gate holding it all up. And fourth the peeling of a bell had replaced the organ, the sound was distant but distinct all at the same time. The voices in his head vanished and his body began returning to normal, his vision returned, no longer felt weak, and his armor seemed to regain some of its former might.

    Looking at the womanthing he growled.
    "For whom doth the bell be tolling? The Unforgiven murderer or she that rings Hell's Bells?" He asked staring at the creature before him, his hand still firmly on the door.


    They could see the vision already, blade finally coated in crimson. Glory to their cause and their names only whispered in the last moments of agony before death. The blade was hefted, magic driven sinews charging forward toward the foe, ready to rend its flesh into and--

    The tolling of a bell.

    And she was Sylvanas once again.

    The blade dropped from her hands, clattering onto the ground, a sound now abrupt and violent in the wake of the new silence. She came to a halt, freezing no more than a few feet from the other warrior, knowing that if he wished to end the battle, it would make for an easy strike. But just as the world around them seemed frozen, it plunged into silence after the lingering echos of the bell died away, so did the other abstain from attack. Around them, stones were suspended midair. It seemed that whatever the lizardman had come not a moment too soon. Any longer and both would be crushed beneath the stones of the Vigil.

    "For whom doth the bell be tolling? The Unforgiven murder or she that rings Hell's Bells?" The scaled warrior spoke. She looked back up towards him now, glinting blue eyes so alien, so inhuman. And she remembered.

    "It is to bring the End of things," Sylvanas answered, and she once more took a step forward, "It seems we were both to perish here." The woman gestured up, indicating the destruction behind them.

    Berserker studied the woman through his clearing vision. She was just as he remembered, all shiny black armor, dead glowing blue eyes, and lanky black tendrils for hair. He sheathed Death across his back and looked around at the destruction frozen in motion around them. The slightest breeze could start it up again, but as the lonesome bell toll died down the big warrior looked behind him at his claw resting on the heavy door. Even with his great strength the lizardman wasn't sure he could move these gates himself.

    "Why must we die? These gates are standing here for a reason and Berserker thinks we are meant to leave through them." With a growling hum he turned his back on the woman and placed both his hands flat against the gates and began pushing at them.

    She felt a sharp pang through her mind as the warrior attempted to move the door, once again feeling implications woven there, and intents that she was made to fulfill. One hand rose, resting onto her face, where part of the metal of her helm had been scraped off. By the one in front of her. But then, they had been made to fight, manipulated by the Gamemakers with the promise of memory as the prize. Was there not another way?

    "The Gamemakers. It is their plots, but I think we should not let any of them win," Sylvanas said, bringing her hand down and moving toward the door. The world in silence was a glorious thing, and likely a short lived treasure. She could make her own choices here. The woman pressed her hands against the door, adding her strength to the attempt. Against the two behemoths, was there any hope of anything standing against them?

    Berserker nodded to the woman and gritted his teeth putting every ounce of his remaining strength into forcing the Gates of Judgement open. With their combined might he could feel door beginning to give. As it groaned inch by inch open the world around them soon began moving again, the wind and snow kicked up once more and the stones that once represented the Vigil began to slip down to earth.

    Sensing the urgency of escaping this place, Berserker put his shoulder into the door and dug his feet into the floor fighting for purchase. He eventually found it and growled triumphantly as the door moved at a steady pace.

    It was truly a great architectural wonder, the Gate of Judgment. To construct something of such size and weight was no small feat. It would be a wonder to see the creators reactions now, for it to be forced open by only two beings. A great protesting groan filled the hall as the doors began to move, something that seemed to reawaken the previous scene, snow once again billowing down and stones raining down. Muted echoes of the organs lament could be heard, but it was strained and filtered and grew only more so with every inch of purchase the door gained.

    It seemed they would survive. Both of them.

    Inches grew into feet, and then feet into a considerable gap, one wide enough for them both to make it through. But the conditions around them were only deteriorating more; it seemed any moment the Vigil would truly fall. The air was stark and chill, and the air was more rubble than not-- things that would wreck havoc on anything of flesh. It was with this in mind that Sylvanas turned her head toward the other warrior.

    "Go!" She shouted, ice like voice audible above even the clamor around them. She would follow after the warrior as soon as he left, but not before. One of them needed to make sure the door did not close too soon.

    The close proximity with the womanthing was having an effect similar to the one he experienced during the battle. The big warrior felt his still ice encased armor weakening like it was next to a powerful furnace. Ignoring the feeling though he forced his way out the door then pulled Death off his back and jammed it in the door barring it open for the woman as the stones that made up the threshold of the gates began to crumble under the awesome weight of the remnants of the Vigil.

    "Come, Death will wedge the door open!" Bracing his hands against the handle and blade he held it in place for the creature.

    The final moment of the Steel Vigil passed with a final thunderous crash and tolling of a bell that echoed beyond them all. No longer would the skeletal remains of the once great cathedral stand as a silent reminder, instead joining the rest of the ruins as rubble to be covered in snow with the next snow. The past was a futile thing.

    Beyond the solitary ruins, Death and Darkness stood.

    Sylvanas had barely crossed the threshold of the Gate of Judgment before the entire Vigil collapsed, taking a few extra steps away even though they were not needed. There seemed to be some power that kept the destruction contained, not allowing even a speck of rubble to cross into the beyond. Perhaps, it was the area they stood now that needed the protection. Those beyond simply never were to know it.

    There were always many mysterious forces at play, it seemed. Sylvanas remained looking forward, out into the beyond. It was once again silent, except for the wind around and the faintest echo of the broken building behind them.

    "It is quiet," Sylvanas whispered. "Strange warrior, have you ever heard such beauty?"

    As the last remnants of the great citadel came down and Berserker freed his blade from the gates he watched as it slammed shut and the imposing gates sealed them off from the avalanche of rubble that crumbled around it. Miraculously the gates remained standing with only the barest portion of the threshold supporting it. Untouched, unblemished by dirt, snow, or rock. As the roar of the building died into the moaning of the wind and whisper of the snow, Berserker's breath quieted and he shook the rest of the ice from his armor and claws looking out across the expansive valley the sun bouncing off the snow like glass.

    "No, Berserker has not, only angry voices and the hissing of Death." And this is truth, because both Death and Ra-Ja were silent they must've been exhausted from the fight. Feeling the weight of the fight as well Berserker sheathed his great sword across his back once more and looked to the womanthing.
    "It seems we both survived the Vigil and passed through the Gates. What this means for the games Berserker does not know."

    It was a moment later that she realized just how profound the silence was. In her fight earlier, she always felt the presence of the Darkness, but now... it was gone. Or, buried so deep she could not sense it. Did that mean, because it was the Dark Ones in control when the gate was passed, they had been taken as the ones who lost?

    Sylvanas would hope for such a thing.

    Yet, with it being "her" who had lost, that also meant there to be a victor. "We are but pawns for some greater game," She still spoke softly, and still remained looking away, at the great beyond. The skies were clear here, as if it were a world away from the Vigil, and the sun was beginning to set, setting the sky ablaze with many glorious colors. Had she once been able to behold the splendor of the world, before becoming an abomination?

    She would hope so.

    "You are the victor, it seems. I was made to guard the gate, but failed in letting you pass," Only now did she turn toward the scaled warrior, glinting blue eyes somehow softer than before. "We are made to fight for our memories. Yet, I am one who was without them even before this, controlled by another force."

    She paused for a moment, looking up at the Gates. "Do not be controlled so easily. The moments I have now, where I have made my own choices, are more precious a thing than any yearning for the past."

    Berserker nodded at the womanthing's profound words. They struck him with a greater force than what he would care to admit. She was right, treated like simple chess pieces rather than living breathing things, it both humbles and infuriates one. The warrior has been controlled by the rage most of his life, but maybe the further he goes in this bloodsport the more control he'll regain.

    It added fuel to the new fire of hope burning in his heart, he had an obtainable goal now. Remember who he was or die trying. Looking into the woman's blue orbs with his own golden eyes he nodded lifting his nose to the wind as if searching for a direction to travel. In the slowly churning chaos of his mind he decided upon the same direction as he did before.

    Forward... taking a step to the North he looked back at the woman and for the first time regarded her as a worthy foe and a creature as tortured by things she cannot control as him.
    "And may you find peace at the end of your journey woman, take comfort if you can in the knowledge that Berserker views you as his equal. You fought bravely and with a burning determination that only a fool cannot admire. Be strong, be smart, and never die easy." With that the big warrior gave the creature a warrior's salute then began walking down the steep slope to places unknown.

    It was amazing how alike and different each were. Warriors, often driven to fight by another force than their own. Both wielders of mighty blades, although her's was now trapped beyond the massive gate and buried beneath pounds of stone. Yet, she was not troubled by that fact, as the blade no longer suited who she was. She no longer wished to be the cold bringer of Darkness that her gods willed her to be.

    "The same to you, Berserker. Do not play their games any longer, and may you fight well." Sylvanas spoke, giving the warrior her own salute. It was one she did unbidden, a graceful gesture that would look alien to her form, but felt as natural as anything she could have done. Was this something of her true past? A clue buried within her mind... perhaps battles did not need to be won to remember everything.

    The two warriors parted ways. She watched as the creature began to leave, to continue until the next battle came for him. She found herself wishing for him to do well, to beat this game and the Gamemakers, make them regret making toys out of other things. Sylvanas knew what her path was to be now, even though it may lead to her true demise. She would not let the Gamemakers transgressions pass so easily, and would do everything in her power to make sure they would pay. But there was something to clear up before it was too late...

    "One last thing. My name, it is Sylvanas."

    Berserker heard the woman's parting words and it stopped him, he didn't even know the name of his last opponent nor does he really know his own, but he would remember this woman's name.

    With a nod the big lizard responded.
    "It suits you, farewell Sylvanas, Berserker wishes you the best." With the knowledge secure in his mind that he was not the only creature suffering under the yoke of a darker power he would continue down the slope.

    Sylvanas nodded to Berserker then looked to the West and decided her course. Walk into the oncoming night and find who she once was, she was Sylvanas now, but who can go into the future without knowing their past?

    As the two great warriors parted ways Berserker came up a rise and saw the dark and imposing figure of Sylvanas walk into the sunset, her path separate from his own, but in the truest heart of the mater they walked the same lonesome road, physically alone, but aligned in their desire to find out what was so cruelly stolen from them.

    ENDING MUSIC
    Last edited by SikstaSlathalin; 07-06-2015 at 02:32 AM.


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