GTDRPG: Of Angels and Demons(LIVE)

[God-Splitter]

"Protect Gabriel at all cost!" Anthony ordered as Caspian drove to his side, parrying the strike of an air demon's tail. Gabriel was staggering in the air, his wings clipped and useless. God-Saver was firm in his grip however. Perhaps all his energy went into holding the blade. The Supreme General handed the Demi-God to Caspian, as he swung his Angelic Sword at anything that dare to kill his Prince.

"Take him to a healer!" Anthony shouted over the deafen roar.

Terror filled his eyes as he looked towards the rift in the sky. Roar was faint, but it was getting closer, much much closer.

"You don't have much time! GO NOW!"

Caspian obeyed, ferrying Gabriel to the ground amongst barrages of demon fire and attacks. The Angel looked back, and saw Anthony slowly get surrounded. Whether the Surpeme General was dead, he didn't know.

All he knew was, he had to get Astra's greatest healers to heal a Demi-God.

Or else all hope is lost.

[Wixern]

Wixern stepped cautiously into the hallway. He could hear voices, apparently belonging to some men. He found another door, opened it a fraction and saw light shining within the smoky cellar room. He could now hear the voices clearly, as they spoke to one another, apparently discussing a poker game.

'And I'll tell you there's no way he could've seen the river bring an ace of Jacks.' One man said, his voice gruff and low.
'It does seem suspicious, don't you agree, Panther?' This voice seemed softer, and more harmonic.
'Ain't no way he saw it comin'. Methinks there's something fishy going on.' Another gruff voice, much like a growl.
'It was just luck, guys, I swear! 'Sides, I don’t even like poker!' This was clearly a frightened man speaking, his voice high-pitched and panicky.
'Shake him out, Panther.'

Wixern heard the scraping of a chair, and opened the door a bit further. He could now see four men quite clearly, sitting around a table. One of them had just gotten up, and had stepped over to the smallest of the four.
He grabbed the small man by the neck and shook him about. Something rattled, and something softly fluttered down.
There was total silence, except for the man whimpering once.

'Two cards, huh? I've seen enough.'
One of the men took a shotgun, standing next to his chair. He held it at the frightened man, and let loose a blast. The smell of gunpowder filled the room.
The other two men got up, as the one called Panther looked at the two cards dropped by the cheater.
'Ace and eight of spades.' He said gruffly, before tossing the cards aside.
'Cliff, hand me the shades.'

Wixern watched as one man handed the other a pair of black shades. The man put them on, took a deep breath, and then spoke.
'Looks like he was dealt…'
He took off the glasses, slowly and dramatically.
'The dead man’s hand. YEAH!'

The other two men were silent, their eyes turned on the speaker.
'What in the blazing hells was that about, Darrel?' Cliff asked.
'I dunno. It seemed fitting. Let’s get going.'
'Oi! Someone opened the door!' Panther said, pointing at the doorway where Wixern still stood.
'A little spy, huh? Come here, coward!'

The tree men made a rush at the door, giving Wixern no chance to escape. They soon stood in the cramped hallway, with barely enough room for the three of them.
Wixern could see them clearly now, and he could feel their aura as well.
"Demons."
'Who are you?' Wixern demanded, backing away towards the streets.
'Who're we? Boy, has it been a long time since we’ve roamed. Everyone seems to have forgotten us. Maybe for the better, I guess.'
'If you wanna know, kid, my name’s Darrel.'
'I’m Cliff.'
'And that makes me Panther. And we’re the Riders from Hell. Most feared band of adventurers to ride through Astra, that’s who we are!'

“Damn it. There’s three of them, they look tough and I’m alone. Let’s just hope I can grab BSN and get out of here before this gets nasty.” Wixern thought, now reaching the door leading back to the streets.
'But enough with the introduction speech. You got the look of and adventurer 'bout you, kid.' Darrel said, aiming his shotgun at Wixern. 'And we've been itching for a real fight since we got back from Hell. Let's go, boys!'

BSN, in the meanwhile, was getting back to her feet. She’d heard a gusnhot, and now voices coming from the doorway. She staggered over to see what was happening.
One second later, Wixern came out. Along with the door. He crashed and rolled onto the streets, surrounded by a shower of splinters and woodwork.
'Get the bike, we're leaving!' Wixern shouted, tossing the door aside and rolling away from another blast of Darrel's shotgun.

Quickly, BSN got on the motorcycle. Only now did she realize that she hadn’t actually once controlled the thing. Still, it was just a bunch of pedals, levers and steering, right? Couldn’t be that hard.
She started the engine, and let the motor roar. Fortunately, this distracted the Riders long enough for Wixern to make a run for the motorcycle. He jumped on the back and BSN went full throttle.
With a few parting shots from the Riders following them, they rode back into the city.

'Well, dang. That was a fine vehicle, too. Could've used that.' Darrel sighed, slinging the shotgun onto his back.
'Don’t worry, Darrel.' Cliff said, smiling. 'This is just one town. I'm sure there's some other place we can get our hands on some fine chrome.'
'Hell yeah! It's time to reign some terror on this land again! Watch it, baby, the Riders from Hell return!' Panther exclaimed triumphantly, firing a revolver in the air.

'Who were those guys?' BSN asked, stopping the motorcycle several blocks away from the Riders.
'I'm not sure. They called themselves the Riders from Hell. They're demons. Or, at least, Dehuman. And they're tough. I say we try and stay away from them for now. At least until we're in better shape again.'
BSN nodded. A sage idea, indeed. Although they would have to be dealt with sooner or later...

[Armand]

Approaching a bluff shielded from prying eyes of aerial scavengers, Narmina and Armand touched down, furling their wings into their backs.

"So, how do we go about accessing the-" Narmina began, suddenly cut off as a pale white portal, the height of an average human and twice the width, materialized in front of her.

"That's how. Add a little God-Juice to a simple Hammerspace technique, and visualize the actual Armory, and voila, you now have access to the Divine Armory of High Heaven. It's actually amazing that the Demon's haven't figured out how to get into it yet..." Armand trailed off, taking off his equipment piece by piece, and throwing it through the portal.

"Since the passage of time is different in both Heaven and Hell, what seem's like moments here can be hours up there. Who knows. Why do you think us Angel's are always prepared to fight when on the mortal plane? We don't have to worry about our equipment!" Armand laughed, as his revolvers, shotgun, katana, and Divine Aura clothing returned through the portal seeming like they were brand new, along with a small, pale blue box.

"Your turn sugar." Armand laughed, gesturing to the portal as he replaced his revolvers in their Docker's Clutches.

Narmina quickly unencumbered herself from her gear, and slowly tossed each piece into the portal. "Seem's easy enough I guess." She said, looking over at the box Armand now held. "What's in the box?" She asked, quizzically.

Reading the label, Armand noted what appeared to be the scrawl of Jeremiah, along with the seal of the smith of High Heaven, Superion. In Jeremiah's hand, it read:

"For when you absolutely have no other alternative, use these. Be forewarned, however, that they can take a serious toll upon the user. The Smithy you're so familiar with forged the bullets from cold iron, and blessed them himself, thus making them effective against the lower denizens of this world. Myself on the other hand, have laid a peculiar enchantment upon them. Once used, they collect a fragment of your life force and fuel the enchantment to deadly proportions against your enemies. I pray you have no need of these." - Jeremiah.

Opening the lid, Armand quickly pulled out what appeared to be four speed-loaders for revolvers, and two clips of 9mm ammunition, the perfect size for Narmina's Ravens.

"Huh, I guess the old man's still looking out for us. I wish he would have given this to us before this started, back when we were in High Heaven getting you help. I assume that they just threw these in the Armory until it was deemed we needed them. According to the warning, I say we don't use these, unless all other options are exhauste-" Armand ranted on, until a pair of pistols flew out of the portal, cracking into his jaw.

" 'Ay, what the hell?" Armand yelled, staring into the misty white portal.

"Shut yer damn mouth when the link is open, we can hear ye up here y'know!" A gruff voice barked from the otherside of the portal.

Quickly turning red, Armand stalked off a dozen or so feet away.

"Get your stuff and let's get moving." He grunted, placing his hands on his hips.

Once she gathered her belongings and settled her sword back in it's sheath, Armand tossed her the two pistol clips, which she noticed to be emblazoned with the personal insignia of Jeremiah. Placing the clips away, Armand strode up to the portal and waved a hand, dismissing it.

"You have a good day too Morty." Armand laughed as the portal began to disintegrate.

"HEY! It's Mortificus, and if you ever come back up here I'm gonna kick your-" The angel on the other end began to rant, cut short by the complete dissipation of the portal.

Laughing over his shoulder, Armand unfurled his wings through the back of his newly overhauled clothing.

"Come on, the nearby city is less than three miles away. We can rally help to try and infiltrate that castle there. We might even meet up with some of the others from the castle raid." Armand noted, taking a great leap into the air.

"I hope so..." Narmina whispered to the wind, as great beats of her wings propelled her through the rent sky.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Touching down in the town square only minutes later, Armand and Narmina quickly de-materialized their wings into their backs, while striding around the open area, looking for a hint as to where to go next. As if on cue, gunshots and the sound of a revving engine broke the silence several blocks away to their right.

"Could be trouble," Armand yelled, drawing his revolvers. "Let's go!" He cried, springing to the nearest rooftop.

Running flat out for what seemed like eternity, Armand and Narmina finally caught sight of two figures debarking from a motorcycle.

"Hey, I've seen them before!" Armand relayed to Narmina.

Leaping to the road below, they begin a slow jog towards the two adventurers.

Waving his hand over his head as they approached, Armand gave a quick yell.

"Hey, fancy meeting you again, and here of all places!"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

*GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH* Meow. There you go Wix. Enjoy.

Tomorrow I'll have up the profile for the wielder of Crimson Ruination.

[Wixern]

Wixern and BSN turned to see the owner of the voice coming at them. It wasn't one of the Riders, fortunately. It was Armand, one of the many who had defended the castle and, indeed, the King during the demonic assault.

'I'm surprised to see you here as well. Nothing better to do than wander around trashed cities?' Wixern asked joviously, greeting Armand with a wave. BSN managed a polite wave as well, although her wounds were acting up again.

Wixern gave a quick rundown on what happened, explaining how they saw the sky split open and the horde of demons unleashed upon the city. He also explained why they were there, looking for survivors and having found Kjal and Montage in doing so.

'... We left Kjal with a strange man. Obsessed by a demon or something. No worries, Kjal assured me he'd handle it.' Wixern finished, before something snapped back to his mind.
'Hey, do you guys know anything about the "Riders from Hell", perchance?'

__________________________________

The Riders, meanwhile, were trudging about the city, aimlessly. Occasionally, they'd run across a demon, which they then blasted aside laughingly. Along the way, they'd reminisce.
'... Shot him in the head and hit the target board behind him!' Cliff finished, followed by the loud laughter of Panther and Darrel.
'I remember that! 140 points, right? Hahahaha!' Darrel added.
Their laughter died down a little, followed by Darrel speaking again.
'Ah... It's been a while. Too long, guys. Too long. I missed you, honestly.'
'Yeah, me too.' Cliff said. 'Hell just wasn't the same without you guys.'

Again, they laughed. After friends part ways for a long time, everything they said was funny, and even being near them was cause for a good time.
Together, they roamed. For now, they were the happiest dehumans in the city.

[Armand]

"We were actually part of the battle earlier. With the invasion going on though, we were separated from the rest, and fought our way here." Armand replied. "Quite soon after the demon's got a foothold on this plane of existance, they summoned some sort of castle. Seems to be not only a center of demonic energy, but also their base of operations currently." Armand continued, filling them both in on the castle's structural design and build.

"As for the 'Riders from Hell'... I've not honestly heard much about. Is there something special about them?" Narmina queried, holstering her pistols.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

[Wixern]

Wixern listened intently to the description of the new demonic base as it was given to him. He could well imagine demons setting up a base in this plane, now that High Heaven was under their command. It would be best to learn all about it, or at least as much as was known.

After the explanation, Wixern responded to Narmina's question.
'Well, they're dehumans, so that's an odd one. They also radiated powerful demonic energy, for as far as I can tell. There's three of them, and they claim they were once well known. Perhaps I'll take a look into the archives, if any are left standing.'

BSN was now back on her feet, although still using the wall to support herself. She seemed to be more hurt than she let on, and Wixern was honestly wondering whether it would be a good idea to keep on fighting with her in this condition.
'You guys wouldn't have any angel-healing magic nearby, wou-'
'I'm fine, really. There's no need for any further help.' BSN interrupted snappily.

'If you say so. Anyway, what do you propose?' Wixern asked, still worrying somewhat about BSN, although trusting her word. 'I don't think taking on the demons' headquarters head-on would be a good idea. We saw what happened when the demons tried that on us. It'd take massive forces, cooperation, and preferably the help of some demi-gods or something.'

[Armand]

Wixern listened intently to the description of the new demonic base as it was given to him. He could well imagine demons setting up a base in this plane, now that High Heaven was under their command. It would be best to learn all about it, or at least as much as was known.

After the explanation, Wixern responded to Narmina's question.
'Well, they're dehumans, so that's an odd one. They also radiated powerful demonic energy, for as far as I can tell. There's three of them, and they claim they were once well known. Perhaps I'll take a look into the archives, if any are left standing.'

BSN was now back on her feet, although still using the wall to support herself. She seemed to be more hurt than she let on, and Wixern was honestly wondering whether it would be a good idea to keep on fighting with her in this condition.
'You guys wouldn't have any angel-healing magic nearby, wou-'
'I'm fine, really. There's no need for any further help.' BSN interrupted snappily.

'If you say so. Anyway, what do you propose?' Wixern asked, still worrying somewhat about BSN, although trusting her word. 'I don't think taking on the demons' headquarters head-on would be a good idea. We saw what happened when the demons tried that on us. It'd take massive forces, cooperation, and preferably the help of some demi-gods or something.'

"Dehuman's eh? Kinda like those over there?" Narmina asked quizzically, pointing over BSN's shoulder. As she spun around immediately, Narmina quickly drew her wand, muttering "Shirak.." The command word for a simple sleep spell.

As BSN began to crumple to the ground, Narmina deftly caught her and began walking for the shelter of a nearby building.

"Don't be alarmed, Sir Wixern, she's simply asleep. I figured from her attitude that this would be the easier course of action if we intended to heal her." Narmina said quickly, placing her down on what appeared to be an office desk. "Well... If he intends to heal her.." Narmina trailed off, motioning to Armand. "I've only the barest grasp on an Angel's magic."

Finally waking up from his daydream, Armand quickly walked over to BSN's idle form and placed his hands an inch over her most serious wounds.

"Go the the opposite side of me and mimic my incantation and hand gestures. If you can copy at least the somatic components of these spells, I can control your actual spell so you don't rampantly drain yourself healing every minor detail about her." Armand instructed, closing his eyes briefly.

"In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas.." Armand quietly said, feeling a small surge of magic welling up in his palms. In necessary things unity; in uncertain things freedom; in everything compassion..

Quickly, a white surge of light washed over BSN's still form, quickly mending several serious looking wounds.

A minute later, with their work completed, Armand and Narmina slumped into office chairs, sharing a canteen of filtered water. Noticing Armand in a keen distress, Narmina quietly studied Armand's face as she silently observed his vampiric canine's extending and retracting over and over, barely leaving his lips.

Rising from her chair, Narmina walked over slowly, placing a hand upon his back. "It'll be fine," She whispered to him. "Just use the ring." She motioned, tapping his Master's ancient ring on his right hand. Seeing a small red glow on his hand, she nodded quickly, satisfied that he would be sated; for now.

"I believe she should be fine, both to travel and to fight." Narmina said, collapsing back into her chair. "Give us a little breather from any action until our magic returns fully, but in the meantime, let's figure out what we can do from here.." She trailed off, absently pulling out a MRE.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

[Wixern]

Wixern paced around the office, not feeling comfortable enough to sit down. He absent-mindedly thanked Armand for helping BSN, but his mind was beginning to drift off. Something he remembered shot back to him; an old memory, from far before he'd met BSN.

Walking through an abandoned town, which had been filled with life less than two days ago. A veritable ghost town, where the city used to be. Signs of battle everywhere. Walls filled with bullet holes, swords on the floor, sometimes still stuck inside their owners. The smell of death hung thickly in the air, making him slightly nauseous.

No survivors. Not even a dog left alive. But plenty of bodies strewn around. And, on the walls, every few feet, three letters written in blood.
"RFH."

He snapped back as Narmina ended her sentence, wondering on the course of action.
'Well, we're going to need more than just the four of us.' Wixern said, 'Since we can easily assume there's more demons in that castle than we could handle. I don't assume you know where the other angels took off to? They could be of help. I'm not sure about Kjal, but I think he wouldn't be interested in storming a demonic stronghold. Other than that, we only have Ted here, who I'm sure isn't of much help.

At the point, Ted popped up from out of the shadows. He'd been quiet ever since the battles first started, knowing full well that penguins are as tasty to demons as humans are.
He squealed, and waggled to BSN. Wixern picked him up, and placed him on BSN, gently. There, he rolled up into a small black-and-white ball and let out another soft squeal.

[Armand]

Name: Zeleros “Durandal” Xaernerek

Nickname: Durandal to the demon’s and most acquaintances, Zel to his old comrades.

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Age: 117, appears to be in his prime of 21.

Weight: 140.

Height: 6”0.

History: The text tells of a fair-haired young man, newly knighted within the ranks of the Royal Guards of Axium, with “spurs yet untarnished,” who came to a monastery seeking a place to sleep and a warm meal. He was almost turned away, due to several of the monks falling ill. With the Abbot fearing a plague, Zeleros informed him of a taint the detected in the river from which they drew water. Travelling upstream, he had discovered a raiding party of Dehumans whom were preparing to ambush the Monastery. Slaying the Dehumans in a fit of zealous rage, Zeleros purged the taint from the water overnight, saving the Monastery in the process. Several years after this account though, it becomes clear that the fate of young knight Zeleros was destined to take a demonic turn, as he was slain in battle by the great Commander of Burning Hell, Superion The Evil, by having one of Superion’s Death Bringers sundering his armor in battle, following the leading blow with a vicious stab through the knight’s heart. Feeling the prowess the man possessed, Superion resurrected his soul into a hardy Demonic body, to forever serve Burning Hell, until one of better skill, or perhaps luck, could free him from his eternal torment of servitude.

Description:


Favors : Very little since being resurrected.

Hates : Being forced to work.

Personality: Overly loud, swears frequently, pessimistic.

Combat Skills: Trained in the most of the forms of Order weaponry and magic’s. Mainly focuses on an inner connection with Greatswords/Claymores and Ice-Elemental magicks. Above-Average skill with firearms.

Weapons: Crimson Ruination, A Demonic-Forged prototype Rifle, A pair of Raven handguns, A pair of Minic Revolvers.

Artifact: Crimson Ruination.

Force: Burning Hell

Allegiance: Demonic Army, second in command for Superion the Harbinger. Ex-Order Knight.

Eye Color: Honey Hazel.

Hair Color: Shocked Blue.

Status: ALIVE

Current Location: A small city, tracking down survivors of the Invasion.

[Sarcor]

James was never the type to use magic to annihilate his enemies but his body seemed keen to do that to the poor dehuman.

James fought with fury with the vast, cunning mind of the puppeteer, but his opponent had experienced thousands upon millions of these battles, and the best James could do is move his pinky back and forth across the handle of his prized jewel sword.

As the dehuman ran towards him once more, James' body sheathed the sword and reached out with its hands while lowering its head in the process. The weird chant and the strange pose seemed to strike James as a powerful magic attack as the puppeteer's thoughts flooded his conscious, creeping their tendrils into James' mind.

His head snapped back up and the muttering stopped.
Please miss, please miss... James uttered in his dark little corner.

"Blizzard Greater"

Huge ice crystals started falling out of the sky with tremendous speed, while ice crept along the ground, seeking the dehuman who was James' one chance to save himself.

[XKjalX]

Kjal stopped in his tracks, and nearly tumbled over as the ice spiked from the ground like some sort of fast-forwarded version of a glacier building in the dark of night. A block of ice both large and sharp splintered into large pieces at the ground where he would've been standing if he didn't leap towards a convinient window ledge as ice spikes travelled beneath his toes. He continued to leap up to a second window ledge, just before an ice spike projected

Swinging himself forward, he wall-ran across the wall, stepping over gaping doorways and cracked windows while ice was surrounding all around him, cooling the air down rapidly. An incovienient block of ice smashed a wall in front of him, but Kjal managed to leap across the gaping hole, and continued to run on the brickworks. All the time he was doing this, he barely left his eye from the man who summoned this goddamned blizzard.

There doesn't seem to be any external corruption, but that's no help. Give me long sleeves and gloves, and I'd look pretty much human...enough. All that ice though...around his chest, should mean that something's inside him, controlling his head and somehow, casting all this bloody ice. Either way, that doesn't change a thing. I still need to close in, then land some bloody blows, he thought, while his feet sprinted across the blocks.

Way to bloody state the obvious, you bloody genious.

Before his head could make any further sarcastic comments, Kjal shut off his thinking circuits and let combat instincts drag him closer to his target. Just as another ice crystal approched his path, his legs kicked off the broken brickwork, soaring in the air for a moment before landing on the ice. Before he managed to slip, Kjal leapt again, this time backwards. He did one final dash, just give his leap a boost.

Kjal repositioned his blades upright, with the blunt ends facing his opponent. He raised his arms, grunting, then brought the blades down as hard as he could, while generally aiming for the head.

If his opponent managed to shield himself somehow, it should be enough to cause him to stagger and open for another blow. If not, it should give him a concussion, guranteed for a day.

At least, that was what Kjal expected.



-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Don't you love making long-winded actions? 'Cause I bloody do.

Bloody hell, I believe in Corpral Nobbs' theory of natural booze, 'cause I feel drunk even WITHOUT ever drinking alcohol in my life. The upside is no hangovers, I think. I don't think anyone likes to remember having hangovers.

I'm sure I said this before, but hell, i LIKE to repeat it. NATURAL BOOZE THEORY FTW

[Sarcor]

As the dehuman avoided and jumped on the buildings to evade the furious blizzard, the puppeteer wove his hands around James' body to build an ice column to ward off the impending blow.

The puppeteer clearly underestimated the speed and dexterity of this particular dehuman, for it was only able to summon a relatively thin layer as soon as the blunt sides of the dehuman's blades hit James' head full force, shattering the barrier and knocking James down in an instant. Blood welled up and ran down his brow, rendering his left eye temporarily useless.

The concussive blow made his conscious spin, reeling from the pain while the puppeteer asserted himself angain, spreading more influence over his body, thus further damaging it. The navy glow turned dark crimson, rejecting the parasite touching the brain.

James' mouth opened to let out an unnatural screech, James felt the puppeteer begin to weaken on his hold as he grabbed more control while his grip was slipping. Stumbling away, James' body picked up the sword, and readied in a fighting stance yet again, throwing away the strategy of magic.

[Armand]

"Agreed. We need minimum two more adventurers before attempting an assault on the castle. I'll take care of rounding a few volunteers up." Narmina said, unholstering her twin Raven pistols and stepping outside.

"Well then, while she's doing that.." Armand noted, looking out through a shattered window. "I'll keep an eye on the skies above. Fire a few rounds in the air when BSN wakes up."

Closing the door behind him, Armand leaped into the air, using large beats of his wings to quickly gain altitude.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

His yellow eyes quickly adapting to the sudden glare of the afternoon sun within the wrecked city, Zeleros gripped the hilt of Crimson Ruination.

"No... Survivors.." He muttered to himself, beginning his ascent up the side of several buildings, with the last leaving him over a thousand feet in the air. Unslinging his Demonic Rifle from over his shoulder, Zeleros silently brought himself to a laying position on the edge of the building. Sighting through the scope, he quickly took stock of the wasteland that had been a fairly large town.

Seeing something quickly streak from the ground to the air, Zeleros sighted in upon it, feeling a rush of anger as he realized the streaking dot in the sky was an angel. Too far away to strike with the rifle, Zeleros stood, slinging the rifle back over his shoulder. Unsheathing Crimson Ruination from his back, he leapt from the top of the building, enabling the Force Shielding to absorb the deadly collision of his body meeting the ground. Shaking the dust from his flowing black robe, he began in a light jog in the direction of the angel.

No... Survivors..

[Wixern]

Wixern sat back, sighing deeply. Although situations like this weren't unusual, they were always tiring once they were over. Luckily, adrenalin kept him awake during the active parts.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, opening them every once in a while to check on BSN, who was still sleeping peacefully.
It was good to see her getting some rest. It might be a while before they could experience a break from the action again.

Ted was lying on BSN, his figure a small, black and woolly ball. His breathing made him look like a slightly expanding fuzzy ball. He, too, had been getting tired from his continuous running and sliding.

So, the adventurers sat back and rested, whilst waiting for reinforcements. They closed their eyes, and took what little time there was to catch a bit of sleep.

_________________________________________

Meanwhile, the Riders from Hell were not thinking about resting. They had been resting long enough to go without sleep for the next eight years. The city may already be a wasteland, but that didn't stop them from exploring its ruins and looting whatever valuables other demons left behind.
At some point, Cliff had entered an old building and came out holding an old and battered guitar.

'Well, would'ya look at that?' Darrel said, taking the guitar into his own hands. 'Betcha it still sounds like a beaut. Here, let me try...'
He started strumming a bit. The guitar still sounded great, despite its nicks and dents.
The music, though, was channeled through the demonic energy that was holding it. It sounded like music from hell, and despite the fact that the guitar was acoustic, it sounded amplified.

'We're taking this one with us, guys.' Darrel said, tapping his feet to the rhythm. 'I love the sound.'
The other Riders agreed. Grabbing a strap from the now-buried music store, Darrel slung the guitar onto his back and set off, together with the others.
'Ahh, it feels good to be back. Although I'm still missing something.' Panther said, his finger cradling the trigger on his gun.
'Don't worry. I'm sure we'll run into some fun soon...' Cliff said, his voice trailing away as a group of demons started appearing in their field of view.

[XKjalX]

Kjal kept his eye on his opponent as he tried to regain his footing from his last move. When he stepped up awkwardly, a distance away, the puppet man was standing up still, holding a sword, despite taking a a hard hit to the head. The rain and flow of ice stopped, but the damage was done. Ice chunks and spikes littered around the field, chilling the air rapidly down to near freezing.

The shivers came, despite Kjal's effort to stave them off with the force of will. Living in the north did not help with his weakness against the cold. It often made it worse. The cooling air surrounded both of them, yet the dehuman is the one who took it worse than the other. And he was already wearing a winter jacket.

Seeing that words are useless, Kjal stood for a while, chattering his teeth. When his opponent did not react with spells, he knew that his opponent knew better than to continue using them. THe sword the demon-controlled man harder seemed harder than his silver blades, would probably best him in the long run...

The best way to push someone over is to keep them on their toes. And one way of keeping on their toes is--


...Kjal grinned.


He sheathed both of his blades and quickly drew out his jet black revolvers, all in one swift move, aiming at his opponent's feet. Sighting between both barrels, he pulled both trigger 3 times each. At the same time, he tumbled backwards and ended in a crouching position, to see what happened next.

[Sarcor]

James peeked at the puppeteer's mind in his once more. Curiously enough, no overwhelming force rejected him and pushed him out. James felt for a recognizable emotion. He was surprised. The demon was brooding. Its frustration was evident of that fact that it could not seem to kill its opponent.

Somehow, James felt a slight sliver of hope before withdrawing from the demon's mind. He came up with another plan that would take advantage of the demon's weakness. He would take hold of his body at the moment that the demon is under physical strain and compel the dehuman to cut out the probe in his chest.

At least then he would have his own will. A gaping hole would not even compare to that. He could just sew it up.

As James mused, he paid attention to the dehuman. As the dehuman pulled out his revolver and smiled, the puppeteer forced the body to jump forward into the air, bringing the clear sword down upon his enemy's head.

James waited for the best instant to strike.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Let's just finish this Kjal. Gotta catch up to the others.

[kumorilastangel]

Previously:
Nathan's smile faded and he became completely serious. "My enemies, I pray that "He" take mercy on my enemies, because I won't!" He said pulling his sword out of the ground and attacking the Hell Spawn head on…..


Nathan's leapt into the air and brought his sword down on the Hellspawn's ax. With a grunt the Elite Hellspwan pushed him back into the air, just as the Half Angel had planned…Turning in mid air Nathan hit the roof , kicked off and yelled "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Ryu-Tsui-Sen!" Raising his blade he came down on the ax with a mighty blow that snapped the Hellspawn's ax in half causing him to stumble back as shrapnel flew into the air.

The half angel landed on the ground and with three quick slashes he dismembered the hellspawn starting with its left arm and finishing with its head. With a quick and graceful move he flicked the monsters blood off his sword and sheathed it.

In the silence he stepped over the demons body and towards the church's doors, his boots echoing on the marble floors. He was about ten steps from the door when he heard the soft, slithering footsteps of demons all around the Sanctuary and felt eyes staring at him from behind…

Nathan had just enough time to curse and draw his sword before a mass of demons descended on him from every direction….Demons now walk freely on Holy Land….

[Wixern]

Blankness. White. Nothing in sight.
Suddenly, the realization. Movement. Staring down at himself, Wixern saw himself moving forwards. Out of the blank oblivion, a figure arose. Winged and radiating, there was little doubt about the origin of this woman.

'Welcome.' She spoke, her voice a multitude of echoes, bouncing off non-existant walls. She remained silent after that, as though programmed to only react to his presence.
'What is this place?' Wixern asked, looking around. It felt like a dream. A vision. A place that should not exist.
'This is a vision. A vision of things you remember, things you expect, and those you experience now. Now come.'

The place shifted, and formed itself around them. Stones, pillars and marble slapped itself into place like a kid's playtoy. When it all fell together, it was just Wixern and the angel, standing in a giant hall.

'A church?'
'A cathedral. But not just any. This cathedral was finished shortly after the Machine campaigns. As such, these people revere somewhat different heroes. Take a look at the art around here. Go on, I shall wait.'

Wixern took a look around. All the art, artifacts, even the art on the windows, depicted heroes of the machine campaign. Familiar faces smiled at him from statues, and sounds of battle and carnage surrounded the paintings that pitted the heroes against their metallic opponents.
He and BSN were pictured on several pieces. Sometimes in battle, other times as sitting at camp, laughing together.

But some pieces were wrong. Or, at least, Wixern did not remember them. For one, the window depicting his likeness. It was his face, all right. But behind them, a terrible demonic figure loomed, as though living in his shadows. It smiled as it loomed behind his likeness, as though content with its position.
He looked at the other paintings. He could see every one of the heroes, except for one.
Anjio was not present on any of the pieces.

'Do you remember?' The echoed voice seemed a lot less impressive in this giant hall. 'Do you understand?'
'He was a part of me.' Wixern answered vaguely, tracing a statue of a machine with his fingers. 'But no one knew. I didn't know.'
'But these people saw something within you. Something you didn't even know was there. There are others like you. But they rarely find themselves. They live a half life, and die feeling unfulfilled.'

'Hold.' Wixern said, now noticing one of the higher placed pieces. It depicted a trio of men, all clad in black. Facing them was a duo, one male and one female. Warriors, forever locked in battle in this exposition. It was impossible to see their faces from this angle, but it seemed clear enough.
'The Riders... but how?' Wixern muttered.
'As I have said before. This place depicts not just what has happened, but what may happen. The highest row is not visible from here. Even I have not seen it. So unclear is the future, that some of the pieces here change daily.'

Suddenly, the cathedral disappeared. The world was blank once more. The angel faded, but not before relaying one final advice.
'Nothing is set in stone. Certainty lies only within yourself.'

And the world went black.

[Armand]

Jogging around a corner with his Greatsword on his back and his pistols in hand, Zeleros slid to a halt. Holstering his weapons, he began a rapid free-running ascent up a warehouse, perching at its peak to scout the area. Noticing movement to his left, he quickly ducked behind the edge and peeked out to examine the activity.

Seeing a woman with silver hair pacing around inside a low-rise building, he unshouldered his rifle and layed flat on the roof. Taking aim inside the building, he waited for a clear shot at a survivor's head.

[Wixern]

Ted opened his eyes. They sparkled as the light hit them, and then he closed them again and rolled sideways. There was no surface there.
The penguin hit the floor with a pathetic little smack and an alarmed shriek, awakening the two adventurers.

BSN was first to bolt up, despite her injuries. She looked around to see whether anything was attacking them before allowing herself to feel the pain she had ignored for the past few hours. It was less now, but she remembered little of what happened after she blacked out.

'Where are we?' She inquired, seeing Wixern getting up as well.
'An abandoned office building. We got you patched up. Armand's scouring the city for survivors. He wants to check out a castle that appeared recently. It's probably filled with demons.' He relaid casually, leaning against a counter, watching Ted get back up.

BSN waited whilst this information made its way through he systems. This was aided by the comedy provided by Ted, who turned getting back on his flippers into a worthy act.
'Filled with demons? Smart move, then.'
'We have to strike at them some time. If we can prevent more castles of darkness popping up out of nowhere, then I say we take the chance.'
'I suppose you're right on that. I guess we'll wait for the news, then.'

Wixern stared out of a window, absent-mindedly agreeing. His mind fleeted back to the dreams he had.
Outside, he was sure he could hear the rancunous laughter of a trio of men.

[kumorilastangel]

Sara and the other angels had an uneventful trip back to the castle. Once the refugees had settled in they readied themselves to head back into the fray. Looking to the sky they marveled at the other angels doing battle above.

“We have to focus on the fight down here.” Sara said moving toward the castle gates.

The others agreed silently and fell in behind her as the gates opened and they stepped into the City once more.

“Lets move,” she called to the group, “its time to get back into the fight!”

__________________________________________________ __________

The Half Angel grunted as the great mass of demons collided with him all at once forcing him through the doors of the church. He cursed as he felt a blade slice into the side of his forehead. Blood pored into his eyes as he was tossed into the air like a rag doll and his sword flew out of his hand. Landing awkwardly Nathan rolled to his feet, drew his revolvers, squinted through the blood that had flowed into his eyes and fired at the demons trying to rush from the church.

CLICK, CLICK! Click, Click, Click, Click, Click…..

“Aw crap“… Nathan muttered as his revolvers clicked, empty.

He glanced to his right and there its was…..Katana no Tenrai Amatsu Inmetsu glittered in the light of the battle that raged above. For a moment the Demons hesitated. Looking at the sword then back at Nathan. The sword, then Nathan….

The half angel took his chance and lunged at the blade. The demons moved as one and got to Nathan just as he ripped his sword from the ground. With a flick of his wrist and a three count the son of Chaos beheaded three of the closest Lesser Demons. The mass hesitated once more.

With a devious smile the half angel drew Tempest, crossed the two blades and took stance.

“So this is round two, Right?”

The demons roared and charged…..