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"I suppose it would have been too much to ask for you to lie down and submit! To avoid the annihilation of your kind! And yet you mock me with the annihilation of my kin! I will reduce your world to ash!" Oh, almost forgot, Ashdraanol has: Inspire awe: While an enemy has 240 hp or fewer, it takes a –4 penalty to limited attacks against the dragon. Doomsayer fucked around with this message at 04:37 on Jan 20, 2015 |
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Jan 20, 2015 04:34
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| # ? Apr 25, 2024 04:38 |
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You two have until Sunday before Ashdraanol wins by forfeit!  I may have let the other two games die in the midst of writing my thesis, BUT THIS ONE IS GETTING FINISHED! 
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Jan 24, 2015 08:39
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I can't write up a full post today till the afternoon.
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Jan 25, 2015 16:57
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No worries, I'm bluffing and you all know it
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Jan 25, 2015 18:03
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I'm going to be down to making creepy hand puppets as player stand-ins aren't I?
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Jan 28, 2015 05:57
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You guys don't have to put a ton of effort into this if you don't want to, I'm happy with just mechanical posts for your turns. I'll do the hand-puppet thing and narrate for you
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Jan 30, 2015 21:54
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"Is that all then? Is that all the ire the Empire of Man can muster? You drive my kind to the point of extinction, slaughter your way across the planes, yet falter when you are called to action? I have always known you as foe, but I did not think to call you coward as well!"
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Feb 7, 2015 22:03
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"Very well. I grow weary of waiting for your resistance. I will not beg. I will be quite content to have you watch idly as I reduce your world to ash."
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Feb 9, 2015 21:17
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The heat around you grows unbearably intense, your skin burning and charring, and it feels like the flesh is peeling from your bones. "You should have stayed home, little rabbits. At least then you would have been granted the chance to spend a few more precious moments with your loved ones." One of Ashdraanol's massive claws flashes forward with incredible speed, three talons outstretched. It's like someone dropped a mountain top-first onto your chest. You're not sure how you're still alive, let alone conscious. You can feel that your chest has collapsed inward, and surely your heart and lungs should be nothing more than cooked red smears on the magmatic rock beneath you. Yet somehow you are still aware. "The soul of a Hero is not mine to take, Gebroke Siele does not afford me the power to strip it from you." Ashdraanol's gargantuan visage leans in close, your vision fading to haze as fire drips from behind his building-sized fangs, twisting themselves into a sneer. "But you yet stand mortals. And I will have you watch your world annihilated before I rip the life from you in a more traditional manner." The walls of the cavern fall away around you, replaced by eternal white light, blinding you to all else.  You awake to a surprisingly familiar feeling: that of foot-worn glass beneath you, and it takes less than a moment for you to realize you are back in Brindonford, laying atop the city square. It's a realization that brings with it immeasurable pain, and you realize that the wounds inflicted upon you by the great dragon were all to real. You lack the strength to do anything more than push yourself to a shoulder and gasp desperately for breath. "By the gods, it cannot be!" The voice of Queen Liliana echoes out behind you, calling for aid. She kneels down next to the three of you with an intensely worried expression. "These wounds..." She trails off, inspecting your injuries with a haunted look, perhaps remembering her own past brush with death. Her eyes lighten after several seconds. "Wait, but you yet live! And you have returned! Does that mean you have found success? Is the sickness ended?" Heavy metal footsteps clatter from the other end of the square. You're not able to turn far enough to see, but you already recognize the stride as Brenner's. Lily leaps to her feet, hugging him desperately around the shoulders. "They have claimed victory! Quickly, we must see them to medical attention, and then prepare for celebration! They have won! They have done the impossible!" The sunlight dims, a cloud blocking the sun. Then it gets darker still, a shadow cast over the whole of the city. Brenner's face falls as he looks to a point on the horizon, beyond your vision. He swallows heavily. "No... they have not." You struggle to turn far enough to see what catches Brenner's eye, but it is not difficult to see. The form of Ashdraanol blots out the sky. He is... impossibly large. Larger still than he was in the Bastion. The mountains surrounding Brindonford little more than handholds.  He is joined in turn by a growing number of dragons flocking to his side. They are entirely dwarfed by his size, but as you have learned well even the smallest of dragons harbors great power and capacity for violence. "AND SO THE AGE OF MAN COMES TO AN END." Ashdraanol's voice alone could drive a man to his knees, and you see the men around you clasp at their ears to try and halt the incredible roar. Yet it is not an exclamation, nor a threat. It is a statement, beyond the arguing. The great beast's head rears back, slowly and yet with terrible purpose. From Ashdraanol's throat comes a light so powerful you could never hope to look upon it. Your eyes clamp themselves shut out of a sense of preservation, but the heat and the flame is inescapable. It did not take long for the world to end. Mankind, to their credit, fought valiantly against the growing hordes led by Ashdraanol and his kin. Some say they were driven onward by the spirits of the fallen Heroes who gave their lives trying to keep The Flame of Aeons from again walking the mortal plane. But it is no small thing, to fell a beast bloodcrazed by its own genocide to respond in kind.  Humanity was ill-prepared to face such a grave threat to its own existence. For all they could bring to bear, it was not enough to keep flame from sweeping across Circadia.  The cities of men fell to ruin. Endless fields of grain turned to ash in the blink of an eye. Some fought, yet most fled. Driven outward to the edges of the continent and beyond.  But soon mortalkind learned that there was no place out of reach for the armies of the Eternal Wyrm. There was no escape from the cleansing flame.  In time, the reign of man was nothing but a dim memory, a conquest completed in its entirety. New dragons were born from those whose souls were given flesh by the Bastion. Some mortals yet walked the earth, those meager few enslaved for amusement or nourishment. They lived among the scorched shells of their ancient thrones. The book closes with a heavy thud. "And that, children, is the story of the three Heroes who doomed humanity to an eternity of slavery and near-annihilation." "That story made no gods-damned sense. Why did you even read us that? We have an early shift in the mines tomorrow." "It was to remind you, of the dangers of..." "...of?" "Hubris?" "What? This was a cautionary tale about hubris?" "And the dangers of... crossing the gods." "That makes even less sense! I thought the gods were rooting for them!" "Yes, and then we all died. It's a terrible story about terrible people, don't ever make me read it again." "But-" "Off to bed with you!"  Doomsayer fucked around with this message at 09:12 on Feb 10, 2015 |
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Feb 10, 2015 08:16
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In the depths of the Hells, when you destroyed a horde of demons upon the brimstone bridge to the Dreamer's sanctum. In Brindonford, when Mtsvaneone the Green Harbinger turned the square to glass and you bathed in it. In the Wild Wood, when you trod upon the graves of the Scorned of Xizael. When Caincakah stepped upon the mortal plain to claim debts owed from Nadeje. Debts that can never be repaid. When allies have fallen... When Donaar and Siubhan met their ends and you were powerless to help them. When Queen Liliana found the quiet of death. When you faced the Gods themselves and received judgement. When you walked willingly into Death's domain. When Joran gave his very existence so that you may press on. In Duvik's Pass, in the mines below. When a monster showed you what you were. When you stood before the gates of Gebroke Siele. When you walked a path that no mortal could ever walk. When you fought the last Heroes to tread upon the mortal plane. When you faced Ashdraanol, The End of All Things. It has always been there. A familiar song. A passionate melody nostalgic and vital all at once. Music, now fallen silent. A refrain unable to be heard. An aria for the fall of mankind.
Doomsayer fucked around with this message at 09:13 on Feb 10, 2015 |
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Feb 10, 2015 08:24
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Thank you guys so much for sticking with me to the bitter end! ...Kinda! I know I'm more than a bit of a crap DM with all the delays and endless Final Bosses and whatnot, but I appreciate you hanging on nonetheless! I told you I was going to see this thing through to the end! It took 1 year, 7 months, 15 days and, strictly speaking, all of the players, but  !
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Feb 10, 2015 09:12
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| # ? Apr 25, 2024 04:38 |
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Yaaa it's over and the world is poo poo now.
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Feb 10, 2015 19:22
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