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The Archons of Death (Closed)

By Osiris

+Watch
Replies: 30 / 284 days ago

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[Merriweather [i "Hearken to the echoes of the abyss, for the story they tell is one of rebirth and retribution. Release the Archons, entombed in the darkest reaches of Nath-Goron; only they are powerful enough to break the seals of imprisonment."]
-Oracle's prophecy, Age of Man, 1309

[b "Do you remember, my brethren, the oath you swore upon your spilt blood-the soul you sold in servitude to our Lord? What has become of us now, prithee tell, do you remember our glorious war cut short by that wretch's intervention? We had pushed Man to the brink of annihilation, the burning of their cities turned night to day and clouded the skies with ash and cinder. Our Lord came up from his throne to smite the armies against us and give the final blow that would destroy their pitiful defenses."]

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[b "Yet it was our loss that day, that horrible day that enchained our Lord of Death and sealed him in darkness. The years that followed saw prosperity and peace come over these lands, but I say unto thee, no more. I grow torpid under the weight of Peace, always in hiding from our defeat. These Champions of Light have grown fat and incompetent, resting on their laurels as they celebrate the years away. Now is the time to strike and sow chaos among them, watch them writhe beneath your destruction and break the sigils that has trapped our Sovereign for all these years...]

[b It has taken me too long to find you, O' Archons of Death, it is you, and only you who has the power to free our Sovereign Lord. I invoke your Oaths of Power. The world has gone on long enough without your influence, and it will remember to fear."]

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~Characters of Interest~]]
[Merriweather [https://imgur.com/JEwzJah.jpg The Oracle:] A celestial woman of vast magical prowess, with the gift of clarity and foresight; it is her vision that foresees the final end of the world, and the release of your Lord of Darkness. She is an immortal entity that has phased through time itself, and serves neither Death nor Archon. [b (NOT APPLICABLE)]]

[Merriweather [https://imgur.com/9dYQIoO.jpg The Harbinger:] A demonic entity that freed you from your dark tomb, the Herald of Death itself. Though he is both ageless and impervious to harm, he is subservient to the Archons and the Chained Lord. He is both your guide and your informant, detailing the state of the world since your entrapment, and though he is powerful he is not strong enough to break the magical seals that cage the Lord of Death. [b (NOT APPLICABLE)]]

[Merriweather [b Archon of Slaughter:] Ruling over the domain of War and Conquest is the Archon of Slaughter, the most ruthless of the Archons who cares not for victory but death itself. Vicious in their destruction of Mankind, Slaughter is only controlled by the Lord of Death and will bend knee to no one else. When Slaughter walks the earth it does not stop killing at surrender, but will ride over the waves of humans killing thousands without abandon. [+red (Taken)]]

[Merriweather [b Archon of Plague:] Ruling over the domain of Pestilence and Disease is the Archon of Plague, perhaps the most deadliest of the Archons, Plague does not care for any soul besides their own. Every manner of contagion is passed from their domain, sweeping kingdoms right to Death's door and was the last of the Archons to swear fealty to the Sovereign. When Plague walks the earth it claims millions of innocent lives, infecting all that come across their path, both of man and beast. [+red (Taken)]]

[Merriweather [b Archon of Deceit:] Ruling over the domain of Lies and Trickery is the Archon of Deceit, Deceit is a twin with Desire and was the catalyst in enslaving the other Archons to the Lord of Darkness, becoming the first Archon to swear their allegiance. Deceit never appears as they should and will erode alliances with a single word. When Deceit walks the earth they destroy bonds and starts chaos in their wake, turning siblings against one another and relishing the destruction they cause. [+red (Taken)]]

[Merriweather [b Archon of Poverty:] Ruling over the domain of Drought and Famine is the Archon of Poverty, empowered by greed this Archon flaunts the different types of wealth they take from others. Lands and nations die underneath the heavy hand of Poverty, suffocating the life out of everyone in their grasp. When Poverty walks the earth all natural life around them withers and dies, and they can reduce kings to beggars with a touch of their hand. [+red (Taken)]]

[Merriweather [b Archon of Desire:] Ruling over the domain of Want and Lechery is the Archon of Desire, Desire is a twin with Deceit and was the second Archon to serve the Sovereign. Desire feeds ambitions, lust and covets the destruction of mortal souls through all they come across; Desire is said to be the most alluring of all the Archons, even surpassing the illusions cast by Deceit. When Desire walks the earth, souls are tested by the thousands and devours all hearts found to be impure. [+red (Taken)]]

[Merriweather [size10 *Please note that your 'Avatar', or your character, does not have to physically embody their domain. Example: Plague does not have to look like they are covered in sores and pustules, Poverty does not have to look starved and poor, etc.]]

[center [b ~*~*~]]
[center [b [size25 RULES]]]
All ES rules and regulations apply.
[b [+blue Please post all required fields in PMs and send me a [i sample post of your writing] through PMs.]]
Literacy required: [Proper spelling, grammar, punctuation, and capitalization], minimum of three paragraphs please. Give us something to work with.

Swearing, Violence, and Romance are allowed.
Text-talk, Cybering, and GMing are not allowed.
[+red [i Anyone caught stealing, duplicating, or hinting to any plot, story-line or characters without permission with probably be berated and humiliated.]]

You can have as many characters as you like active, but if you cannot keep up with posts due to multiple characters I will ask you to remove one or more to free up time.
[b Pictures-Illustrated.]

No over-sized pictures, if you need one re-sized or need a picture found just let me know and I will fix/look for one.
I reserve the right to decline any skeleton if I feel the writer did not follow directions or could not uphold all the directions. If I decline your skeleton you can revise or improve the fields required or simply move on.

Make it creative, make it fun.

[center [b ~*~*~]]
[+red Skeletons:]

Username:
Name:
Archon Title:
Gender:
Personality [i (Three words or more)]:
Weapons:
History:
Avatar:

-

Username: [http://rp.eliteskills.com/u.php?u=1001 Osiris]
Name: Ganetrius
Archon Title: Archon of Slaughter
Gender: Male
Personality: Short tempered, loyal to a fault, and idealistic, always striving to become the greatest warrior the world has ever seen.
Weapons: Flaming sword
History: Ganetrius lived as a powerful warlord in ancient times, who sold his soul for immense power to slay all in his path as he carved his empire across several kingdoms and became the Archon of Slaughter. His lust for bloodshed bound him to the Lord of Death, encouraged by both Deceit and Desire they pushed him to become greater, to give in to the urge to kill. Ganetrius became the third to bend knee to the Lord of Death, followed after by Poverty and then Plague. Now he is the embodiment of War, conquering the masses that fall before his flaming sword. Like nearly all mortal souls, he does share a small, tiny soft spot for Desire and likes to leave them 'gifts' of the most morbid, bloody and screaming kind.
Avatar: [pic https://imgur.com/hZzUM1f.jpg]
-

Username: [http://rp.eliteskills.com/u.php?u=1001 Osiris]
Name: Kain
Archon Title: Archon of Deceit
Gender: Male
Personality: Cunning, silver-tongued, persuasive.
Weapons: Twin daggers
History: Kain is the twin of Orlaralei, born mere seconds apart, in a time not recalled by most the twins existed as petty urchins among the dirt slums of the world. He was always getting into trouble, either causing it or adding to it he felt truly alive when he could instigate a conflict. If he was caught, he honed his ability to guile and dissuade any repercussions; he spent too much time getting into trouble and easily getting out of it the Lord of Death saw his potential. The offer to cause so much disdain and chaos was too good to say no to, who would? Kain did not need much persuasion, though the cost to such power meant he would lose his life-but considering the Lord came to him the night before his public beheading Kain readily agreed-he would be dead anyways. Typically he could weasel his way out of any trouble, but his luck ran out, now no one could kill the Trickster.
Avatar: [pic https://imgur.com/U0sIWAv.jpg]
-

Username: [http://rp.eliteskills.com/u.php?u=80562 canadonewithursh-t]
Name: Orlaralei
Archon Title: Archon of Desire
Gender: Female
Personality: Cunning, playful, manipulative
Weapons: Katana
History: Orlaralei and Kain were practically joined to the hip from birth. They didn't exactly look alike, but their minds worked in very similar ways. When they were old enough to figure it out, they became a duo of sorts. Since they lived in the slums, they were very poor and they found that, together, they were excellent thieves. Whilst one did the distracting, in let's say a bar or a marketplace, the other would pick pocket. As they grew up, they found that Kain was a very talented liar, able to talk his way out of anything. Where as Orlaralei grew into an attractive young woman. She had always been a pretty sight for sore eyes, but this developed into something more when her body became more shapely. She used this to her advantage, flirting her way through men, and even women, whilst her twin stole. If they were attractive enough, she'd even sleep with them and then stole from them whilst they slumbered. One night, she went home with a rich lord and when that night turned to morning, she rifled through his possessions. Looking for anything of value and even money. However, she was caught sneaking out by the Lord's wife who had just returned home from a holiday. She was to be hanged, alongside her twin for her crimes, and it was together that they pledged to the Lord of Death.
Avatar: [pic https://i.imgur.com/X0a2fav.jpg]
-

Username: [http://rp.eliteskills.com/u.php?u=80562 canadonewithursh-t]
Name: Rowan
Archon Title: Plague
Gender: Male
Personality: Sadistic, Unhinged, prideful
Weapons: Dagger
History: All of Rowan's life, he had cared for the sick. As a boy, it was his frail grandmother whilst his parents worked. His family just managed to get by and so couldn't afford to look after her. As an adolescent, it was his mother. As an adult, he became a doctor. Daily life had become mundane, predictable and boring. He longed for more. That was when the twins appeared in all their glorious chaos. They offered him greatness in the form of becoming an Archon, serving under a lord. Deceit spun pretty lies, filling his head with images. Desire tapped into a part of him that he never knew and drove his motivations. Slaughter showed him just what destruction he could cause and finally, Poverty showed him all that he could gain. They all told him that to become an Archon, he'd need to complete a truly terrible, despicable act. So, he gathered a group of people, men, women, children; babies who were all healthy. Then, he took one struck with plague and locked them in a room with no food, no water, no light. Just the darkness and each other. It wasn't long until their screams and cries turned to coughing, hacking and vomiting. After two weeks, they were all dead. Unfortunately, he'd never be able to see his masterpiece as authorities found him and he was hanged for his crimes. But, what they didn't know, was that they were granting him an even greater power.
Avatar: [pic https://i.imgur.com/aVED6hJ.png]
-

Username: [http://rp.eliteskills.com/u.php?u=79909 Ravanya]
Name: Aisha
Archon Title: Archon of Poverty
Gender: Female
Personality: Pouty, conceited, greedy
Weapons: Dual Bladed Staff
History: Aisha, named for wealth and beauty, hated the memories of her human past. She'd been naive and stupid. Born with beauty into a wealthy family of an old name that she could no longer remember, she had been a young maiden ready for love and happiness. She met a man, a Lord, that swept her away in the rosy glow of romance and gave promises of a life of happiness and spoils and love everlasting. She'd given him everything, and he'd taken it all without a second glance. Left her nothing, not even her family name. She's been made a fool and instead of living on with the embarrassment of her foolishness she tried to end her life by carving out her heart, the only thing she had left in the world to give. She had been about to plunge the dagger into her chest when two voices came to her from the dark. One spoke of the desires she held to make him pay, to make them all pay for the things they took from her. The other spoke of how if she ended her life, she'd be made a fool of once again in the afterlife. They told her of a Dark Lord that could promise her the power to make the very Earth wither and give its life to her as she walked by. She could have all that the man took from her and more for all eternity. She was given two days to consider the offer, or, she could end her life like the fool she was. When the Twins returned for her, her loving heart had been turned black and the innocence in her eyes was gone. That night she pledged herself to the Lord of Death without hesitation, and he granted her the power she sought in trade for her loyalty and obedience. A small price to pay for the splendors she would gain in this new life. The first thing she did was make the man pay for what he did to her. She took his wealth, she took his lands, she took the lives of his family as they watched, and then took his. It had given her such a rush to take back all that was hers and more, and so she continued on. Taking life from fields and causing many to starve. Riches were lost and replaced with dust, even souls were taken as payments when little lives couldn't keep their deals. She could easily steal all of this away, but it was even sweeter when they bargained away their lives to her for her collection.
Avatar: [pic https://i.imgur.com/L9Lx0aT.jpg?1]
The draw of battle called to Slaughter and awoke his fury at finally being able to destroy those that stood against him, the soldiers gave plenty of opposition-not like the villagers who just died without a fight. He became a juggernaut of death, steamrolling over the plated armor as his sword hacked through their defenses. He killed without hesitation, dealing with the masses of soldiers while Orlaralei snuck in during the confusion and the others picked off those who targeted them specifically. The entire garrison would not have been enough to stop Ganetrius from cutting his way into the keep, the Harbinger even got some blood on its hands as it ripped apart a few soldiers that dared to try and apprehend the demonic creature. The others fended off the guards well enough, an altercation with Deceit had Slaughter taking his anger out on anyone helpless enough to cross his path. The anger of the Archon ignited along his blade, the red-hot fire climbing the steel with a hunger for death; the power was still far too weak than it used to be, he felt its drain on him increase.

One day soon they would be back to full power and then they would return to their realms and march out onto the world of Man with armies boasting a strength the world had never seen. Through the corridors of the keep Ganetrius walked, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall as he went through every room he came across and killed any within. Genocide was what he dealt, the blood that sprayed out from his slicing blows covered the rooms, puddling beneath the doors as he tracked crimson footprints along the floors. Ganetrius stood among the carnage and his distorted mind drew him into the void of memory, the screams of death echoed through the caverns of his subconscious harkening back to the horrors he inflicted as a mortal man. Staring at the blood that covered his hands he was reminded of the countless bodies he broke within his empire's dungeons, how he enacted his anger out on those helpless before him gave him a twisted sense of justice over the destruction of his family and the loss of innocence at witnessing their murders.

Ganetrius clawed his way from peasant to warlord by never letting anyone get in his way, trampling those who dared keep him from his end goal of conquering the known world. The lives of thousands were crushed beneath his boots, his enemies were disemboweled and destroyed for their impudence, and none could stop his expanding empire's forces. Yet no amount of captured wealth nor amassing armies of conscripted soldiers could keep him from feeling something was missing, the need for a human connection with someone else that was not subservient just because of his role in the world. He was without that connection throughout most of his mortality, he had never expected to need anyone in his life. Yet the human heart is a repulsively needy thing that craves the familiar social interactions not influenced by fear and loathing.

The death and destruction was a vain attempt at distracting his lonesome heart and sickening touch of humanity that he perceived as weakness. To need someone was a liability that others could exploit by harm or death, yet that did not stop him from [i wanting] it, it was likely a reason as to why even after death he was drawn to Desire, to have a connection with someone who he could not force to his will. Which made her subsequent betrayal all the more painful, and even still she betrayed his trust, placated his wrath with her lies. He could not let this go unpunished, for that, he schemed and devised his revenge in secret-trusting no one to its details, even as he would procure the items from the other Archons he told them nothing of his plans.

A tactician and strategist was what he was glorified to be at the height of his power, and when striving to right a grievous wrong his militaristic attitude would not be ignored as he started with Plague's poisons and toxins. He would knock unconscious several members of the keep, each with different physiques, mentalities and physiologies to give the wretched mad doctor his share of variety. The Harbinger's imps would come after they dealt with the Saint and bring back those Slaughter would hand over to Rowan for whatever the man wanted them for. The problem with using Archons' powers is they failed to work on each other, meaning no matter how many plagues he applied toward Orlaralei she would remain unaffected, but Ganetrius was patient in his plotting; he was not going to inflict the pain upon the woman herself, his sights lied elsewhere in darkness and shadows found within the future.

He was the last to enter the Saint's chambers, it was darkened by the illusion of Deceit as the older woman was fighting the four of them with her own flaming sword, the flames illuminating white, reminding him bitterly of the blinding beam that knocked them all unconscious. The head Saint, the Lord of Life, was the one they would need to kill the most, yet this lesser one would have to do in helping them reach their full potentials and their end goal. Even before he arrived the other four had been hacking away at the aging woman's defenses, yet Slaughter did have to commend her courage in fighting a losing battle, her strikes never waned and her ferocity never faltered.

The others were chipping at her far too slowly for Slaughter's liking and by the time he joined in she was slow and winded, her regeneration tapping out over time before he sent her off-balance with a big boot the chest. He received a burn and cut to his leg for the demise but she was thrown off her feet by its force into the waiting blades of the other Archons. Generals of the two opposing Sovereigns hardly fought each other and Ganetrius never fought fair. Honor was something a coward hid behind to prolong their lives, valor was merely a word to aid those fighting a losing battle. Such things did not matter to a general of Death itself, enacting the swift execution to a hated enemy was their only courtesy.

The five worked like a ravenous pack of animals, destroying the first Saint and severing her head from her shoulders, to which Deceit readily scooped up and Plague claimed the beheaded carcass. Slaughter stooped down and ripped the pendant from Alyssia's twitching body, their first sigil acquired to release their Sovereign Lord from his tomb. Curiously the older woman's head was still alive, yet she could only helplessly watch as the Archons removed the sigil from her body. Archons and Saints were essentially immortal, it was the reason the blinding light could not kill them-instead force them unconscious long enough to be imprisoned until the Harbinger could release them.

The box that the Harbinger designated for the Saint's head would be the woman's lasting sarcophagi, its darkness will be all that she will see forever. Her words would be silenced under lock and key as her body itself would rot and decay after Plague was done with it. Pocketing the sigil they would return to the Harbinger victorious, one step closer to their end goal, knowing that there were four others who stood in their way, more difficult than the first. Yet exterminating the Saint boosted their powers, made them stronger as they shook off the centuries of rust and darkness that Alyssia would come to know. Death would fall upon the world once more and this time the world of Man would have no saviors...
Ganetrius / Osiris / 21d ago
((OOC- Sorry!!))

Rowan pushed himself from the stone cold walls, his fingers itching to release his beautiful creations. The day prior was not enough to satisfy his murderous needs, what they had done to the village was amateur work. He could have taken it all down by himself, the others did not nearly have his destructive reach. No one could hide from him, for he lurked in the dark. They could not run for he could fly. They could not fight because he would find their weaknesses and watch them crumble apart.

He let the others walk in front, until his path was stopped by Ganetrius. The last Archon he expected to talk to as the other had spent the morning pouting like a child. Most likely over something Orlaralei said. He opened his mouth to ask what Slaughter needed, but his answer soon came and Rowan could not help but grin in amusement and satisfaction. "I know you won't give me an answer as to why you need my works of art, but I cannot wait to see what you need them for." He stopped speaking for a moment, as if contemplating. "Fine. You have yourself a deal, as long as you can keep that whore of yours on a leash and away from them. She ruined a perfectly healthy experiment this morning, now he's a sobbing, blubbering mess." Before anymore could be said, he walked away to join the others in the carriage.

He stayed silent through the journey, his eyes closed, hidden under the black, leather mask, arms crossed over each other. He tuned the others out and allowed his body to relax, he would need the energy for their fight ahead.

When he was in the sarcophagus, it reminded him of being human again. He had been a God fearing man, the small town doctor and it's victim. After caring for his family his entire life, he used his skills and whatever money he could scrape to become a doctor. However, despite saving countless lives, sacrificing and slaving away, most of the town's folk saw him as the same weasley, weird little boy. When he would walk through the streets food and stones would be thrown his way, insults would be shouted. At night, he'd get dragged into wet alleyways and beaten. Yet the next day, he still continued to work and heal. He was expected to.

It was no wonder that he killed them all. They deserved worse for what they did to him.

By the time they reached the home of the Saint, Rowan was ready. He slipped the gloves off from his hands as they all climbed out. A dagger in one hand, the other empty. He watched as the others took on the first wave of attack, from his position in the back. He curled a first and brought it to his mouth to where he opened up again and blew. Nothing could be seen, but soon the soldiers were coughing and hacking, they clutched their stomachs, desperately scratched at their skin, puked out their insides in the grass before dropping dead. Their death made him more powerful and he was able to start slashing his way through.

He caught a glimpse of the others getting to the Saint before him. He growled and fought off the rest of diseased bodies and followed after. When he reach Alyssia's room, they were all battling, chipping away at the Saints state of mind who had yet to notice him. He took the opportunity to walk around them all and behind Alyssia. The woman glanced behind at him just as he began to infect and stab at her body, she did not react in the same way her guards had, her skin healing over the spots, holes and sores. However, as each of them hacked away she grew weaker, and her body was beginning to fail her.
[+blue "[i ACK]!"] Kain was at first bewildered that Orlaralei came to his side as they were readying to leave but the shout of pain acknowledged the knife's edge embedding itself into his side. A quick stab, in and out, and the blade was retracted-the wound itself would heal almost immediately based on the small size of the incision-but that didn't mean he was immune to the pain itself. His golden eyes narrowed as he held up a finger, wagging it towards his sister with a warning not to start that game with him. Yet she smiled that happy little smile and he could not help but shrug off the pain, easily distracted with boasting of his kill-count, Kain was a skilled fighter when he could be bothered to raise a blade. He was not a powerhouse like Slaughter nor was he a precision assault like Plague, he dealt in darkness, in the underhanded dirty fighting that held no honor and gave no apologies.

Kain had spent most of the wagon ride rambling to anyone who would listen, all of them ignored him but that was okay because the [i voices] in his head were always there for him. They poked and prodded at his consciousness, making observations and remarks that only he could hear, he snickered during the hour-long ride as he waited for his chance to wreak havoc. Muttering to himself and apparently talking to the wagon itself as he stroked the canvas covering, his fingernails ripping at threads and acting as though he wanted to carve into it his insane thoughts.

Delirious and deranged the Archon of Deceit was not always so confused, he used to be sharp-witted and sly, sneaking through dark alleys and becoming invisible to a crowd. What happened to make him mad? Too many beatings for stealing, too many near-death escapes in his life? Or maybe he witnessed something so gruesome and brutal his mind could not help but fracture. It did not break completely, did not shatter to a million pieces, but it fractured into different slabs, split but somehow still connected to the whole. He talked to no one about what he saw, he kept his madness to himself, not even his twin with which he shared so much could understand the dangerous transition.

Kain got out shortly after the others, practically the last to leave the shade of the wagon, his white hair blinding like snow in the strong sunlight. The silver white of his hair was another product of his past fear, the trauma that fractured his mind changed his outward appearance as well. He ruffled it absentmindedly, as he unsheathed one of his daggers, tossing it and flipping it in his hand as the group was soon to be surrounded. Slaughter did bring a lot of attention, very hostile attention, Deceit didn't like his scene-causing ways, the same could be said for Ganetrius' all-too-common temper tantrums. Like a child.

They fought with the guards but Kain did little fighting himself, instead he dodged and ducked blows, grinning ruefully at their feeble attempts to harm him. A group was singled out just for him, how delightful they gave him their sole attentions, his eyes twinkled with his twisted happiness. He didn't harm them like the other Archons, who were so eager to bathe in their blood they cut them down like grass; instead his eyes were consumed in dark black, grabbing a soldier's sword right by the blade.

[+blue "I didn't know chickens could wield swords..."] Kain's words burrowed into their ears, like carnivorous worms that would eat its way to their brains, the guards would drop their weapons and even one of them let out a shrill [i 'bawk'], weapons littered the courtyard as Kain laughed maniacally watching his opponents become whatever beasts of burden he influenced them to be, a few of them even got down on their hands and knees to begin eating the grass. They mooed and clucked in their plate armor, their senses had all-but-left them as they enacted Deceit's fantasies.

To a mortal mind there was little they could do to resist Deceit's words, it took a mental fortitude stronger than most farm-grown humans cared to possess. Come to think of it Kain was seldom refused, the being that would become Slaughter gave him his first taste of defeat since becoming an Archon. Perhaps that was the true reason Kain loathed Ganetrius so... Speaking of the devil Ganetrius came to his guards-turned-farm-animals and was about to kill one of his chickens! Kain threw himself in the way, his arms spread out to the sides as he howled for Slaughter to leave his animals alone.

[+blue "You've had enough! Go find some other hopeless idiot to cut down, these ones are mine."] Kain growled, brandishing a dagger towards Slaughter's throat before he sat down on one of the guards who was hunched over, ripping grass up by their teeth. The guard raised its head and promptly lowed like cattle, Kain looked down with a gleeful smile replying, [+blue "Gesundheit."] Slaughter didn't seem to find his tricks funny, instead storming up the castle steps as Kain fed the human some more greens. He was like a child with new toys and spent several minutes messing around with his humans-turned-livestock, toying with them in sadistic insane fashion.

However it was the Saint they were after and he tore himself away from his playthings to enter the keep with the rest of them, he stepped over bodies and severed body parts as the keep was littered with the armored carcasses of guards and the unfortunate casualties of any servants that got in their way. The puddles of blood pooled together and soaked through the halls, splattering on the walls and even gushing onto the ceiling. Kain could not help himself and began writing his insanities on the walls with the blood, scribbling all manners of chaos onto the halls as Orla and Aisha dealt with Alyssia further in the keep.

He kept getting distracted by these little things, just as the more blood-thirsty Slaughter was no doubt roaming the halls looking for more bodies to fell 'neath his blade. It was a wonder Deceit made it to the Saint's chambers at all, but after many obstacles he finally did, stepping in as Desire and Poverty battered the Saint's resolve with their words and powers. [i 'Let us add some fear...'] As he entered the room the windows blackened as if night had fallen swiftly, weaving illusions was Kain's specialty, and since Alyssia's will was already faltering it did not take much to make her see what he wanted her to see.

[+blue "Follow my voice and slip away, the faithful never fear the grave, fall into the shadows-embrace it."] His voice was a rasp as he stepped out of the shadows and into the light his golden eyes flashed like a serpent. [+blue "You are a doomed vessel, Alyssia, you are a candle burning unto nothing. Only pain is the herald of your salvation, when death's grip finds you, it clings tightly. Can you feel it like a noose 'round your neck?"] Her free hand raised to her throat as she kept her sword pointed at the Archons, there was a slight quiver to her bottom lip, as the light in the room began to fade in her vision, his illusions battering the saint's psyche as he assaulted what she could see.

The Saint lashed out, swiping with her blade and the three of them were forced to fight, no manner of words could break a saint though it weakened her greatly. Though she was aged and her faith waned Alyssia fended off three assailants well, far too well-Kain couldn't get close enough to thrust a dagger under her skin so he had to bide his time, wearing her down as the final two would arrive. A five versus one may have seemed overkill, but Alyssia wielded light that blinded through Kain's illusion, engulfing her blade with a searing hot fire of redemption. It burned the leather and cloth he wore, the heat would melt his flesh if he touched it, for every illusion he bombarded her senses with the saint still clung to life.

The odds seemed to be enough even for the older woman, either it was due to the Archons' weakened state or she just mustered enough faith to fend them off it would take all five of them to bring her down. Kain was actually happy to see the Saint put up such a fight, it would have been far too boring if she was cut down within a few minutes. It was also showing how rusty the Archons were after so many centuries locked away, their cohesiveness and bickering made taking down the solo target more difficult that it should have been. Still, Kain was delighted to fight a worthy foe, even if she was still strong enough to break through their manipulation, it was decadent to clash blades with someone who could hold their own against them.

It would be a shame to kill Alyssia at all, but he had to, the others were highly intent on freeing their Lord of Death but Kain was merely acting the part. He did not want to free their Sovereign, not for the same reasons as the others, he did not like to serve-he simply did it out of survival. Killing Alyssia would just get one more obstacle out of the way for them, and when they were at the brink of victory... his twisted mind began churning out all the possibilities. Even as he fought with the Saint alongside the others Deceit plotted against them, even as they stood side-by-side he was waiting for the moment to stab them in the back, would his insanity cause him to betray everyone? Even his sister?

He did not know, and that [b [i terrified]] him.
Kain / Osiris / 74d ago
[font "Times New Roman" Aisha had grown tired of the waiting, though it had only been a few minutes. Between Kain's rantings and Orlaralei's annoyances, she wished for the millionth time that their powers worked on one another. Finally the harbinger had shown to them, presenting them with an empty chest and telling them what the Oracle had foreseen. Hearing what all caused the Saint Alyssia to lose more and more faith to her God, Aisha was grinning like a Cheshire cat with a new toy. She didn't even care if Kain got the head when she was done. She could feel her powers near dripping from her already.

Though she remained silent the hour or two she was in the wagon, she was almost purring at the chance she was given. The more they stretched and used their powers, the stronger they would get. The sooner they regained their full powers, the sooner their realms would be opened, and then the blood would truly start to run. And then she would use every means she could to free their Lord of Darkness and Death. She had listened as the Harbinger had dealt with the gate guard and she pouted as they past his remains. [#e6aa00 [b "He was cute.... pity...."]] Then the guard was forgotten as if merely passing a wildflower and then gone again.

They were taken to the heart of the city and she looked out at the village in slight disgust. Only when she would see something of value did she perk up. When they reached where they needed for the Saint, they slowly piled out of the wagon. Ganetrius was the first to exit, and immediately the guards surrounded them on edge, weapons drawn. [#e6aa00 [b "And so the fun begins...."]] She purred taking her staff and pulled her staff in to an offensive position. The Guards began to attack and soon the town was filled with the sounds of battle.

Blood spilled and caused her to shiver in excitement. One guard was well dressed and highly ranked if his uniformed armor was any indication. She reached a hand to him after ducking his weapon and she watched as he became a mere husk of skin and bone beneath her touch. She took in a deep breath and gave a heady, almost aroused, sigh as she then took the shiny baubles from him and slipped them into a satchel at her hip. It was easy enough to get past these guards, taking some of the fun out of it as she made her way to where they kept this Saint Alyssia. Her good mood was spoiled when she noted that Orlaralei had made her way inside first. Damn the woman and the void that birthed her.

She fought more than she did try to slip through. Here and there she would feed on the blood that poured from these guards, quenching a thirst she had as she followed behind Orlaralei. Her blades along the ends of her staff were extended to scrape at the walls as she ran, slicing clean through some where the blades caught them. If they reached her or other parts of the staff, they shriveled into near charred husks and crumpled to the floor. Weapons rusted and rotted away. Bones became brittle and fragile. A few guards showed they were used to lavishing lifestyles from the looks of their indulged bodies. One touch from Aisha and they looked starved and forlorn. Skin tore and blood became dust when she finished them.

It was easy to follow Orla through to their target. Just follow the ruckus of men that fought over her. It was sickening as Aisha had to clean up behind the damnable woman. Leave this many guards behind and they would catch her. Not a bad thought, but then their target would get away, and Aisha couldn't have that.

Feeding as she went, indulging in the taste of blood, fear, and pulling their deepest envies from their souls, she made her way to the room that was to hold their targeted Saint. Aisha wiped at her mouth before opening the door. Her silvery eyes then glared and narrowed to slits as she watched Orlaralei change her form from a woman to that of a man.

Fury raged deeply in her belly as she watched them battle. The Saint at first would reject the male before her, attacking over and over again as Orla dodged and danced around, profusely repeating that the woman was beautiful and still in her prime. It was when the woman had denied it to be true that Aisha's smile returned. Once the woman began to believe it and lowered her weapon, Aisha sneered and stepped into sight.

[#e6aa00 [b "You cannot be serious? Firstly... who would believe such an ugly male form as that? Men weren't enough for you, Orla? You have to go for the women, too? I think you and I were mixed up when given powers.... You're far more greedier than I...."]] Aisha had then looked to the Saint as if only then she was worth looking to. Aisha's silvery eyes looked over the woman as if she was nothing more than a stray cat. Aisha was dressed in gemtones and looked lush and rich even in her bloodstained figure. She was young and beautiful, and the moment Alyssia seen that they were both still vibrantly youthful and she was not, that lovely little green monster sparked in the Saint's eyes once more. Desire was there, but it was slowly losing to her Envy.

[#e6aa00 [b "Secondly..... how can you look at yourself and think that you are in your prime? You're underfed as you think you've become fat, when in fact you have become bloated and soft, like bread thrown in the river. Your hair has dulled and your skin is starting to show sagging and wrinkles. Who would ever think you beautiful? You know its all down hill from here, darling."]] Alyssia struck at her, but she blocked it with her staff. Aisha smirked and pressed one prick of her nail to the woman's hand in passing, and the skin aged more. Looser, more wrinkled, even beginning to show age spots. [#e6aa00 [b "Oh... looky there.... You don't seem to have much left to you if a simple little prick can show me that much..... True, I agree that it's not fair that Orla is still young, though I see her for the hag she is in any form. But you? You gave your life to your God and he can't even give you beauty, though to be honest you were not very beautiful to begin with. You're so plain..... and so.... second rate. Even as a Saint, I remember the others looking far better than you did, Alyssia....."]]

Around and around they went, as she pointed out all the woman's flaws. Her body was waring down, her skills were lacking, she was dull and unimpressive. At least even Orla had something exotic to her features. It was sad when a slut looked more appealing than a Saint, one who was to be honored and respected. [#e6aa00 [b "Face it, darling, you just cannot measure up.... your God has all but deserted you, used you for his claims, and then left you to wither into skin and bones and dust. You know I speak the truth....."]] Aisha's eyes began to gleam like freshly polished silver as they battled and danced. The more she spoke, the more the woman would falter.

[#e6aa00 [b "Ignore that trans-shifting hussy..... you know that you're nothing compared to those with youth, strength, and beauty. When was the last time someone showed you attention? Lusted after you?"]] A quick glance to Orla had her rolling her eyes in annoyance. [#e6aa00 [b "Truly.... lusted for you.....? When has anyone ever doted upon you? They all look to the ladies with taught skin.... long and lustrious hair..... bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and a figure that would drop him to his knees. not some old sagging cow that can't even produce milk..... you're done.... and you know it. And it just eats you up inside..... I can feel you from here. You hate them all. You detest them. Aren't Saints supposed to be the good guys, Alyssia? If you were a good guy.... then.... why are you treated like an old family heirloom? Only good enough for the stories where you used to be worth something? There's dirt on my boots that's more valuable than you now."]]

The woman was trapped between the words and desires from Orla, and the raging jealousies of truth from Aisha. She didn't know who to listen to, who to believe in. Her weapon was up, but it quivered. Maybe if they were lucky, she'd kill herself and then all they had to do was claim the head. And it would be such a taboo for the woman. Suicide for a Saint? It was of the most ultimate sins a Saint could commit. And then their souls would be damned to Hell for all eternity without any remorse from their God. The thought had Aisha purring. It would definitely help towards freeing their Lord as well.
Aisha / Ravanya / 93d ago
[Left [pic https://i.imgur.com/X0a2fav.jpg]] ((OOC- Okay, so, I got a tad carried away and I didn't want to make the post too big by adding on Rowan, so, I will be posting for him after yours :3))

Orlaralei's realm of Hell was lit by the fires of passion, want and lust. Her army was filled with obedient soldiers of all shapes and sizes who had the need, the thirst for blood and chaos. Within the torturous flames were the damned souls of mortals who had wronged in the name of Desire and fell under her spell. Their screams and cries of pain and begging had been sweet music to the Archons ears. Her Shiro stood proudly in the middle of it all, red beams of wood that held together the stone that made up her home, within this palace lived her servants who waited patiently on her beck and call, they tended to her pets, or also known as her Oni.

The Oni resided in the village behind her great castle in what seemed to be a peaceful village… It looked to be the village which she and Kain had grown up in. But, if one were to stroll through its streets and peek through the doors, they would find her precious Oni torturing the mortals that had been sent to her realm. These souls had committed the most heinous of crimes and it was the Oni's job to punish them as they seemed fit. More often than not, the souls truest, darkest, deepest desire would be found out. Then the Oni would create it and give it to the Mortal. But, before the dead human could reach for what they wanted, it would disappear from their sights and into a different place in the room. Every time they would try to reach their goal, it would move further away from their grasps. The souls were not given the luxury of food, water, comfort or sleep and so they would be driven to desire to have their most basic needs met and yet… It would be just kept out of their reach. Not even death could save them and they would be damned to this punishment for eternity.

It was entertaining to see them stupidly try again and again, only to fail. Humans were relentless, determined and greedy little creatures. They would often stop at nothing to get what they wanted… So to see them lose their sanity over something they couldn't have was very satisfying to Orlaralei… But, she could feel it in her that the great fires of her realm were merely glowing embers and the souls that were imprisoned there would not be feeling the pain they so rightly deserved. She needed to get back to her Hell and reignite it, only then would she be able to reach the height of her power.

However more stronger she may have been becoming, she was still weak and that weakness let room for vulnerability, for doubt, for that disgusting human part of herself that hadn't died in her corruption. It weighed heavy on her heart and mind, allowing intrusive thoughts that she hadn't had for a long time, to creep back in. This was why she needed to get back to her realm, so that she could reach her potential and smite her weakness before it consumed her.

As all other humans, Orlaralei had been one to doubt her self worth. She and Kain had grown up poor and so resorted to stealing to afford the bare necessities. As children, they were a duo of sorts. One acted as a distraction, she opting for the lost, crying little girl whilst her brother emptied the pockets of unsuspecting folk. Her twin always had been better at lying than her, better at putting on show… It was no surprise that he became the Archon of Deceit. As they grew older, and her body matured with curves, Orla found a more effective way of stealing. She'd dress in the most revealing clothing that was deemed appropriate by society and she'd wander around, studying the crowds for who seemed to be wealthy. Once she had acquired a target, she'd slowly tear down their walls, starting with light conversation, often playing dumb, complimenting their looks.

She appeared to hang on their every word and laughed at their jokes,whether it was funny enough. Then they would walk about town and they would buy her things, jewelry, drinks and food, once full on alcohol she would go home with them and let them have their way with her. The next morning just as the sun was about to rise, she would re-dress and raid them of her possessions before slipping away, undetected and never to be seen again. Through this, she gained a reputation and rumours about her would spread. The locals would stare at her as if she belonged to the Devil himself, they whispered behind her back, some were even brave enough to state their opinions to her face. No matter what, she held her head high. She never showed them how much their words hurt her…

Over time, she began to feel like she was just a body to be used. The men she slept with never cared for her wellbeing, they never ensured that she was ok after what they had made her do. They just left her to lie there and every night an overwhelming numbness took over her and would stay until she left them.

As an Archon, it was never much better. She had quickly figured out her abilities and what she could do. At first, it was a rush that empowered her, it made confidence rush through her veins and she felt like she could crush the world. But then, she remembered that if it weren't for her powers, then the mortals would simply scoff in her face. They would not stare at her in adoration and lust if it weren't for the gifts her Lord had bestowed upon her. After the adrenaline high calmed down, she was left to feel empty inside. After her nights with Ganetrius, she was left to feel nothing more than a body used to warm a bed. Rowans and Aisha's insults and glares reminded her of the ones she received when she were a Mortal.

The only thing that she was glad that hadn't changed was her relationship with Kain. If anything, their games just became more fun. As their group conversation came to an end, and they all began to make their way to the wagon, Orlaralei joined her twins' side. "Hello, brother." As she said the greeting, she slipped a dagger from her pocket and stabbed it into his side. A wide grin spread over her lips as she had started their age long game. When they were children, they would try and poke and hit each other before swiftly escaping, now as Archons, they used various weapons to hurt each other, such as daggers. They knew the other wouldn't die and simple stab wounds would heal quickly. The aim was just to injure the other player at the most unexpected time. It was childish, petty and malicious but neither of them cared.

"Y'know, that battle was just what I needed… I think I killed over fifty humans." She bragged as she walked beside him, hoping he would take the bait. To her pleasure, Deceit answered with his own number of murdered mortals and it was higher than hers. The two would then compete and compare their statistics, trying to one up the other. That was until she ended it with a closing, winning statement. "You may kill more than I do, trick, steal and torture… But, you see… I succeed where you fail." She boasted, referencing that she was the one to make Ganetrius pledge to their Sovereign after Kain had visited first. Her brother, as predicted, took offence and defended himself in that she used her body. "You could have used yours too! I'm sure he wouldn't have minded." She glanced back at the Archon they were talking about and found him conversing with Plague. She wondered what the topic was but did not ponder on the thought for long.

Excitement rose in her on the way to Saint Alyssia, finally they were able to slay those responsible for their entrapment. Throughout their journey, she daydreamed of what exactly she could do to the bitter, ageing woman… She couldn't kill her, after all her fellow Archons would want to perform their revenge and Orlaralei was feeling generous. She was just going to slip ahead of the others, kill the guards closer to the Saint before dealing with the woman herself. The time seemed to fly by and soon, they were in battle… Unlike the Death they rained upon the village, the guards were able to put up a fight against them, but even they would fall.

Orlaralei managed to slip through most of the fight, but of course, her blade still sunk through hearts and slashed at skin. Her footsteps echoed on stone flooring through empty halls, alerting guards to her presence. She snapped her fingers with a laugh and two of the guards eyes began to glow gold, in a trance like state they turned to their fellow soldiers and began to fight with them. She could have easily fought them all but she did not have time nor the patience. She was near to her goal and she was eager to make the Holy General fall…

She split the final guard in half that was protecting the Saint and she entered the woman's bedchambers. She was standing by the mirror, examining her face. Bitter, brown eyes snapped to Desire. "I knew you would come." She stated, seemingly unfazed. "And look at you… You've spent years upon years in a sarcophagus, trapped and yet you do not look a day older." Her words were sour as she studied her own reflection again. "It's not fair. You are a sinful creature who brings only darkness… I am a Saint. I have served my Lord of Life dutifully… Yet this is my reward as you stand there in your youth.."

As she listened, Orlaralei couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised at how easy this was going to be. She was expecting more of a challenge. She thought a blade was going to be against her throat the moment she stepped into the door. "Oh Alyssia." She started off with, beginning to approach the other with soft words. "You cannot truly believe that time has been cruel to you-" However, before she could get too close, the Saint drew her sword. "Don't even think about it Orlaralei. I know your powers and I will not fall for your little tricks."

Desire held up her hands in a surrender. "I'm not trying to trick you, Alyssia, I'm trying to describe to you what I see." She stated, pausing for a moment. "And what I see is a beautiful woman who is still in her prime." Using two fingers she pushed the sword away. She continued to near until she thought close enough. "Don't lie to me." The Saint snapped but Orlaralei shook her head. "I would not dream of it… But maybe you'll believe me in a different form."

[Right [pic https://i.imgur.com/0LHH2OQ.jpg]] With that, Orla slowly circled Alyssia… Only when she came to stand in front of her, she was no longer in female form… She, or rather he, stood tall with broad shoulders and a toned body. Art of a snake was permanently etched into the side of his neck leading up to a sharp jawline. Short, black as night hair framed his face. The only thing that seemed to have stayed the same were his eyes. Gold, snake like orbs. The Saints breath hitched when she saw him but she quickly regained herself and drew her sword once more to attack, which he easily blocked. "You have to believe me, Alyssia. I would not change my form if I was lying." His voice was deep yet soft and soothing with a slight rasp to it. "Surely you of all Saints would know if I was lying." He added on and this made the woman hesitate.

"You need to go back to where you belong Orlaralei."
"And where's that? In-between those legs of yours?"
"Locked in a coffin that has no key."

The two sparred, with Alyssia delivering all of the attacks and Orlaralei either blocking or dodging them. He continued to talk to her, compliment her… He'd even look at her like he wanted her. Deep down, he could not think of anything worse or more horrid. However, with each word, the Holy General's resistance began to drop, she would stop denying anything stated but instead seemed to hold onto the words. Eventually, she dropped her sword and she looked at him with [i Desire]. He had her. But before anything else could happen, the other four entered and the real fun could begin.
Ganetrius had spent the night with Orlaralei, rekindling their passion, after centuries being imprisoned it was a welcomed respite. It had taken him years to get over the betrayal of her lies, the strong sense of hatred at being made the fool still burned like a winter's ember, fleeting and weak-yet still alive. It resurfaced in moments of their anger and when they fought, burning the bridge of their relationship repeatedly over eons. Every Archon was told whatever was needed to get them to serve the one lord, Death his title, Sovereign Lord to the realms of Hell, a demon monarch struck down from the Heavens.

Slaughter was manipulated as the others had been, they were cheated from their mortal lives as all paths came to death's domain. Ganetrius held her in his arms in the morning light that filtered into the room through stone carved windows, she rested on him playfully, brushing the hair from his face and revealed a hidden truth from centuries past. He frowned disapprovingly, the once-restful gaze now hardened at hearing how she twisted his emotions with her lies.

[#990003 "-And here I thought lies were your sibling's job, or are you dabbling in their domain as well?"] She teased him, but his words held their bite bitterly; but she soon went to leave him, as was their way to love and then leave nearly as quickly as they had joined. He took time to regain himself before venturing out to join the other Archons, feeling the deep-seated rage begin to boil in his chest as if ready to explode in volcanic fashion. Slaughter stood among the others listening to the Harbinger's plot with mild interest, stealthy assassinations were not his forte, he kept his silence with an intimidating presence still mulling over the twists laid out by all the Archons.

They snapped and bickered amongst themselves for centuries, each a general to an army of hell spawn vastly superior to the forces of Mankind yet none of them had access to their realms. Not yet anyways. Ganetrius' tactician mindset allowed his armies to move in strong formations to quell the opposition, unlike Kain, whose armies were filled with undisciplined rabble skilled in guerilla tactics and striking from the shadows. If the realms were not sealed by Saint magic the Archons could have easily ran over the throngs of man and unleashed their Sovereign with little trouble. He did not speak to the other Archons, not even as Orla taunted at them from his side, keeping his expression blank save for the flicker of intelligence in his eyes. Not that they'd listen to him, they took orders from no one, even the Harbinger's guidance was made with suggestions and advice.

As everyone would make their way to the wagons, Ganetrius stepped in front of Plague, Slaughter waited for the others to leave them, for the most part excited to finally enact revenge on one of the Saints who sealed them away. Ganetrius did not deal with the other Archons lightly, and he had need of Rowan's special talents, for what he did not say...

[#990003 "Plague, a moment. I shall be brief, I have need of your capabilities-toxins, poisons, blights in concentrated vials or flasks. In return, I will provide you with bodies, both live specimens and dead for you to work upon in whatever... experiments you do below."] He didn't give a reason, and would keep the interaction short, but his offer held quite the weight as Slaughter could take on legions and not even bat an eye, capturing people in large quantities to turn the dungeons into a rightful torture chamber would be an easy task; they would fill the dungeon cells within a week should Plague take up his offer.

Then, the rest of them got into the wagon along the back, the Harbinger covered his head with a large hood and took the driver's seat, viciously whipping the beast attached and sent them careening down the hill. They rode in plenty of silence for about an hour or two until the horned demon finally stopped the carriage just outside of a large walled-off city. Protective barriers stood tall along the ramparts as the sun beat down on the wagon, shining brightly over the unsuspecting town. A guard came up to check on the wagon, but before he could see its contents the Harbinger opened his fanged maw and let loose a dark, noxious cloud. Darkness that melted the face off the guard in a matter of seconds, screaming and writhing on the ground the demonic entity continued to bring the Archons deep into the heart of the city.

A large castle laid in the center, guards were posted at every corner, stationed along every door. The sounds of the townsfolk soon took over the silence, and for once Ganetrius almost missed it, to be a part of a village was something he had long forgotten. He could see merchants setting up their stalls, their smiles so cheerful in the morning sunlight, busy shoppers milled around the market. Yet these peasants were not what they were here for, and whatever longing Slaughter had for the normality of common life quickly dissipated.

The Harbinger pulled them up to the keep, telling them they had arrived and with a sinister chuckle, bid them to have fun. Ganetrius got out of the wagon, immediately his presence drew guards and while Orlaralei dealt with the Saint at the beginning he would take his rage out on the guards who dared to stop their approach. He did not have long to play with the mortal protectors, it would take all five of them to bring down a Saint if they were to fight. The last time they faced a holy warrior they were all knocked unconscious...

[https://i.pinimg.com/236x/bd/80/65/bd80654a6f0efb5272fbb58059a7e015--character-portraits-character-ideas.jpg Saint Alyssia] was a woman marred by the toll of time, her strength and faith waned with each century, coveting the dying flame of youth. A bitter noblewoman, estranged from the other saints with sharp tongue and evil words, she paced in her hall worrying more about her wrinkles than the impending doom that was killing their way to the locked chamber. Beneath layered tunic burned a sigil upon a chain, yet she did not recognize its warning before a guard banged on her door, desperately trying to alert the distracted Saint to Death's call...
Ganetrius / Osiris / 114d ago
[Left [pic https://i.imgur.com/X0a2fav.jpg]] Each of them, for their own reasons, believed themself the better Archon. Whether it was based on strength, cunning or how much havoc they could wreak. But, there was something in Orlaralei that knew she was the best. Except for her brother Kain, she had played a part in the others' fall to darkness. Rowan did not need much convincing, his chaotic desires had always been in the back of his mind, tempting him to sin, he had simply just needed a nudge to give in. Ganetrius had been the easiest, a mere mortal, warlord or other, could not resist her charm for their minds were too weak.

Aisha had been more difficult, turning them away the first time they approached her… But Orlaralei took the necessary steps to ensure that the woman would pledge… It had been a shame, for the man that Aisha loved truly did return the feeling. He had been smitten with her, until Desire made an appearance in his life. Like many others, he wanted her and Orla used that want to convince him to leave Aisha, take everything from her. She promised that if he completed her wishes, he could have her. That was all he wanted and happily complied. He took all of Aisha's riches without so much as a goodbye and he returned to Orlaralei in hopeful longing. However, he would find her gone for she had returned to the mortal woman who had lost her human innocence, the light from her eyes was gone and her heart was now black.

Of course, the Archon of Desire kept this little secret to herself. Poverty grew to hate her over the years for having something that she couldn't take and Orlaralei knew that the years of pent up anger and resentment would come in the form of revenge if she were to tell. Not that it mattered, their abilities did not work on eachother and they were immune to death. That didn't mean that Aisha couldn't make her life a hell. But, maybe one day, she would hint and tease Aisha about it until the woman caught on… It would make things more interesting…

At first, Orlaralei thought they could be friends of sorts. Both were beautiful, powerful and the only women amongst the Archons. It had been clear rather early that that would not happen and she really didn't understand why. It wasn't her fault that Mortals, and a particular Archon, wanted her. It was simply her ability, it was who she was, what she represented. It would be like her detesting Aisha for being able to take away the riches of the wealthiest king or be able to suck the life from the lands they walked upon. She had pointed this out, but Poverty was blinded by rage. Now, Orlaralei relished in flirting and playing around, pushing her buttons and observing just how riled up the other could become.

She had laughed at the snarled insult of 'slutty seconds'. It was most definite that she was still hated both by her and Rowan, though she didn't care too much for the Archon of Plague. He mostly kept to himself and his little experiments, whenever he did join them he stood off to the side slightly and simply snarled at you if you looked his way. If one of them finally did talk to him, conversations were quick and brief, as if the last thing that he wanted was to be in their presence. She didn't find him fun as he didn't bite back to her jabs and insults. He'd usually threaten her with some weapon, as he had done in the hallway, he'd tell her to keep her business before leaving her. With him, just as the excitement began, it ended.
Orlaralei also didn't find the man appealing. He was stick thin with sickly, pasty skin. He had crooked teeth and a wicked smile. The only thing that she found appealing was his mop of fiery red hair.

[Right [pic https://i.imgur.com/aVED6hJ.png]] Ronan, on the other hand, stood away from the rest of them but still in sight. He had his arms crossed in a closed off stance and his thin, chapped lips showed his aggravation. He'd still be able to use the human he had locked up, but he knew the pathetic mortal would be pining after Desire. It would be calling her name and desperately trying to get back to her as if his life depended on it. No matter what Ronan infected or plagued the human with, it would want her and would prove difficult to handle. He supposed that he could kill the thing, save it from its heart ache. But then, he wouldn't be able to see the fear or the pain in his eyes as he tortured him. He glared at the Archon responsible through his mask, before his attention was caught by the Harbinger entering the room.

He stepped forward to hear the demon better, but he was obviously uncomfortable joining the group. Rowan listened carefully, brows furrowed under the mask before his grin returned at the news of the chance to free their Sovereign and to slay those who had trapped them. He could already imagine what he would do to this… Alyssa… He could imagine that the bodies of the Saints worked differently to protect them from illnesses and he was curious. He wondered what they could withstand, how they would cope with being infected. Before anyone could say any more, after Kain had claimed the head, he spoke up. "I want the body." His tone was firm here, it being clear that he would stand his ground on this and fight those who opposed him. Though, to try and persuade the others further, he added on. "I can try and find their weak spots and it'll make it easier to kill the rest.

Orlaralei had a reaction much like everybody else, she was visibly excited and after Rowan spoke he heard her say. "Fine, then I want to go in and… Ease her up a bit, just to make her drop her guard a little and to let us strike without much resistance."
[i (Thank you for waiting. :D)]

Kain was awake all night, locked in a manic trance as he babbled and talked to himself, bent over trinkets and items in his room. He scratched his madness along the walls, tearing flakes off the wall with his nails; the room distorted in his eyes, the golden gaze saw things that were not really there as his insanity came back in full swing. Objects were moving on their own, disfigured trinkets clawed at him with chattering maw ready to bite. Things were flung against the opposite wall, away from Kain as he crouched on his knees; scratching, writing, digging, clawing...

The voices clamored in his head, the constant barrage of thoughts that were his but somehow not his, being told what to do from a voice in his head. Would that still make it his idea? Soon the one wall was [b filled] with psychotic ramblings, yet seemed to follow a dark pattern concerning the Oracle. The Oracle kept popping up every few seconds, clearly telling him to speak with the Oracle but Kain could not. His mind was fractured beyond repair, wounds suffered through time still ached with phantom pains. By the time the morning came Kain had sufficiently covered his [i entire] room with trance scribbles, littered with lunacy. The knock at the door saved his mind from wandering, switching to clean clothes, some days dark colors were always a good choice for Deceit, other days he felt the need to be dressed with a flurry of vibrant colors.

Since he was already awake he was there early smiling at Poverty about their recent talk, but the smile did not last long, frowning in disappointment that the Harbinger was not around even though he asked for them to come. A touch rude, isn't it? Kain watched and listened greedily to the spat his twin had with the quack, [i 'Ooo, girl.'] Kain mentally snapped his fingers as he eavesdropped a bit more, enticed by the gossip. Slaughter arrived looking just as stupidly serious as ever-did this man [i ever] smile? Should he tell him some jokes? [i 'Oh, jokes are so much fun, let us have some fun with some jokes.'] His mind went off about jokes and Slaughter was completely forgotten.

The argument between Orlaralei and Rowan was a nice little bit of entertainment and then his attention was brought back to Aisha, ah so fair a maiden yet so deadly a touch. Death followed poverty like a blanket of misfortune, wells dry up with a single touch, harvests wither and die from her path, all the gold a king could own stripped away with naught but a kiss from lips so tempting. Abruptly his thoughts and musings were interrupted by an unfamiliar sensation of a hug, arms wrapped around him by his sister. Immediately Kain started squirming and flailing his arms dramatically and over-the-top theatrics, as if she had contracted the plague itself.

[+blue "Unhand me, heathen! Knave! Vagrant! I've never met this woman before in my life! Desist!"] Kain writhed and wriggled in performance agony, howling at the sky with a fear-inducing radius of audial terror. [+blue "Help! I'm being abducted! Stolen! Deceit-napped!"] The hug was like torture, he tried to even push his sister away but she clung tight. When she kissed his cheek he pretended to gag as if he was going to vomit, she taunted him about his appearance and form, how she hated it.

[+blue "That's more reason to keep this form around-hate it all you like."] He was much more calmer and quieter when the hug ended, sticking his tongue out at Orla again before she moved on the Aisha.

It was several minutes of just standing around being bored before the Harbinger finally made his appearance, he gave many apologies to them before he began to tell them what the Oracle had explained. Their first [i real] target was named Alyssia, a 'Saint' who guarded the sigils to the Lord of Death's cage. The Harbinger omitted the true name of their lord, the power of a name still warranted some caution. Finally! They could kill one of the saints, these forlorn heroes who once were celebrated at taking down the Archons and the Lord of Death; now become lost and soulless shells of their former selves, relics of a bygone era that cling to anything that would remind them of their glory days.

Ah, nostalgia-one of the greatest and easiest exploits Deceit could have, he had [b so] many ways to twist, tease and taunt them with memories. From what the Harbinger explained Alyssia had become a bitter woman, scorned by the test of time, and relishing in what once was, and cursing what has become of them.

[b "Saints are not like villagers, my Lords and Ladies, they are holy warriors but their favor from their God is waning-every corruption causes them to slip even deeper in the darkness. The time to strike is upon us, you must use everything to make sure this saint falls."] The Harbinger brought out an empty chest, small yet spacious. [b "The Oracle has directed that we behead Saint Alyssia, and place the severed head in this chest, locked and sealed in the depths of our keep. We need to do this to every saint, with each death our Sovereign is freed little by little. Glory shall rain upon us once more."]

[+blue "Finally! Some assassinations! I thought I was going to go crazy if I don't chop somebody's head off."] Kain [i loved] beheadings, sometimes if you were lucky and in the front row you could pick up the head and mess with it. It was a favorite pastime, making the dead head talk to people, grossing them out as he'd pull all the nasty bits from the inside of the head-like gutting a pumpkin-as he laughed. He wanted to do that again, he laid claim on it, effectively calling 'dibs'. [+blue "I call for keeping the head!"]

[b "If you are all ready, Lords, we can head out now-it is not far and we shall take one of the wagons for transport. Everyone climb in and let us set forth to breaking the first sigil."]
Kain / Osiris / 153d ago
Aisha had spent most of the night in one of her moods, going over the plans and thoughts that Kain had mentioned of his plan to take over the realms. She wondered if all this could be done, but still manage to set free their Lord of Death. Kain didn't want to free him, but if Aisha did, surely she'd be rewarded for her loyalty? Orla and Gane were too busy in one another's pants, and they were only aiming to free their Lord because the Harbinger had been giving them the information to do so. Kain was insane, he wanted all the Realms of Hell for himself. She was sure that he only came to her about it because she could would understand the emotion of greed. Rowan just wanted to experiment and make people suffer. She didn't fault him that, so she held nothing to him.

So many hours she had spent that she had fallen asleep along her bed without getting under the covers and sleeping properly. Though sleeping in a bed was much better than sleeping in those stone imprisonments of torture they had been sealed in before. She had slept without any dreams, such was natural for her since she became an Archon. When there came a knocking on her door, she awoke to grab one of the other treasures she'd collected, and threw it at the door where it shattered against the strong wood.

[#e6aa00 [b "This had better be good, if you are waking me this early..... or else I shall drain you dry to break my fast of the night."]] she growled sitting up on her bed. It was then that she heard the Harbinger's name, they were being summoned back downstairs. [#e6aa00 [b "If that little pest had not taken such grand care of my darling Staff in my absence, he'd be a dead man...."]] she snarled then sighed.

She stretched her neck side to side, causing it to make a cracking snap here and there before rolling her shoulders and along her back, almost feline like, to stretch out and pull herself more from sleep. Another knocking and she threw another treasure. This one was was made of metal and hit the door with a loud and ringing [i CLANG!] The little demon imps on the other side could be heard skittering away with whimpers. That at least brought a smile to her face a moment before she stood from her bed, and wandered to her closet to pick out something to wear. Dressed and pleased with her appearance, she made her way downstairs to meet with the others.

She was one of the first to come down, Kain was giving her knowing smiles, and she simply rolled her eyes and shifted her weight to her other hip, placing one hand to her hip in wait of the "Lovelings" to finally come down. Though once they did, she wished they had stayed in bed. Something sounded at the doorway leading into this main hall, and she turned her silvery eyes in that direction. Rowan came stalking into the room, a dagger in his hand, and his mouth beneath his mask was in a growling sneer. Orla entered in behind him, and Aisha could understand why he was upset. Once again, Orla did something she wanted to, and it pissed off someone else. Rolling her eyes she turned away from her as she walked in and spoke to her twin.

It wasn't until she felt eyes on her, did she look up again. Orla was eyeing her over and she frowned. She was wearing an emerald green peasant blouse that bared her shoulders, and was held tight to her curves with a golden corset that was decorated in hand woven lace. Her breeches were a golden chocolate, laced up from ankle to hip, baring her pale skin beneath and knee high heeled boots laced to accentuate her calves. It showed off her curves while still keeping her looking classy, a Lady of power. Humans had once described her attires as looking at fantastical paintings, and she rather liked the thought.

But seeing the look on Orla's face now had her reconsidering. Her words only rankled her hide even more. Compliments were always wanted and accepted, but from Orla? She was up to something. She kept her back to her as she passed behind her, a sign of showing she didn't think her a threat. But at the touch at the small of her back, she snapped her fangs in a warning growl. She was at Ganetrius' side now, and watching her lean into his side made her sick. She knew what she was doing, and it caused Aisha some annoyance. Continuing to speak up, she tried to goad her, offering to meet her in her bedchambers and let Aisha take out her hatred on her. The thought was tempting, but she knew Orla would enjoy the pain, not cower from it. There would be no joy in such an act for Aisha if there was no fear or cowing to the pain she caused.

She turned to fully face Orla and fluttered her eyes sweetly, accentuating the pout in her full lips. [#e6aa00 [b "Perhaps there is something that you were unaware of, Orla, darling...."]] Her tone went from honey sweet, to hissingly sharp then. [#e6aa00 [b "....slutty seconds isn't my style...."]] She sneered at her with a curled lip and then turned away from her once more. [#e6aa00 [b "Where the hell is the Harbinger..... I tire of waiting around aimlessly."]]
Aisha / Ravanya / 156d ago
((OOC- Sorry for taking so long!))

Orlaralei's relationship with Ganetrius was a strange one indeed. They were not bound together for all eternity, yet they stayed loyal. But then, they always seemed to be on thin ice with each, just on the verge of tipping into their destructive arguments. All it would take was one wrong word or move and they'd ascend chaos… However, no matter how toxic, petty or bloody their fights were, they were certain to crawl back to one another.

After he had pledged himself, and her hold on his mind, heart and soul dissipated, he found out that she had no intention of being with him. As she was persuading him, she had promised that she would always be by his side. That they would be together as he conquered the world's beyond… But this had been a mere lie, a part in her plan to bring him to the dark. By the time she was done with him, he did not sacrifice his mortal life for the one of an Archon because of his ambitions and greed. No, it was to be with her, he could not live in a world where she did not exist in it. Of course, his mad infatuation with her disappeared as soon as he was given his new title. Their powers did not work on one another but, he still expected her to stay true to her promises just as he had done.

However, she had laughed in his face as he reminded her. She told him that he was foolish to think that she would be with him forever. He wasn't pleased, to say the least, with the news and this would be the first of many temper tantrums to come. It took centuries and many attempts to kill her, that all failed due to Archons being immortal, for him to calm down. Of course, Orlaralei found it all rather entertaining and she'd even taunt him, most likely worsening the situation. But then, one day he gave her a gift of the very bloodied kind. It was a monk's head, she could still see the terror and fear in the dead man's lifeless eyes as blood had seeped out onto the floor. Ganetrius had gone before she could respond, but the gifts continued over the weeks until she had finally managed to catch him alone and repay him for his deeds.

At first, she just used the arrangement that they had as a stress reliever. As much as she loved being the Archon of Desire and having mankind at her feet begging, she enjoyed time away from that. But, that damned part of her that was still human grew attached to him, very attached and she developed her own infatuation that would stick with her even till now. After, potential, years of separation, there was a slight flutter in her heart. She felt weak because of it and even disgusted at herself, for allowing this to happen. It wasn't supposed to happen. Yet, as her slumber was disturbed by the audible knock at her door, tired lips formed a small smile at the sound of his voice. However, she groaned quietly as their beings were requested by the Harbinger.

She stretched out her arms, back arching slightly, before she rubbed at her eyes to get rid of the sleep. She opened them and golden iris peered up at the other. "We don't have to go just yet, we could always continue from where we left off…" Her suggestion was playful and, despite it not being serious, she crawled on top of him. She looked down at him and moved a black strand of hair away from his face as her other hand was pressed to the bed to support herself.

"Do you remember when we first laid? I gave you the idea that I had slept with that enemy of yours from the East… Well, that may have been a lie…" She paused for a moment to see his reaction. "I've actually never been in the same room as him. I just wanted to see you try and squeeze the life out of me like you had threatened, you were starting to become all sweet and it was sickening." She added on, swiftly getting off of him to stand on the floor before he could do anything. "You're not allowed to get mad at me for it now." She said teasingly, beginning to change into clothes. "It was too long ago and if I remember rightly, you left some dark, lasting marks." She commented, adjusting her hair so that it wasn't spilling over the pale skin on her shoulders.

Once she was ready, she approached Ganetrius once more. "I'm going to explore the castle, I'm sure those little, fat creatures have made some progress and I'm curious." She lied, not wanting to reveal her true intentions. In the middle of the night, she had heard a man's screams of help and she quickly deduced that a fellow Archon had brought a guest. She wanted to take a look without anybody else being there, maybe even play around with him for a moment or two. If she told Ganetrius what she was really going to do, he would grow jealous and they would most likely argue. "I'll meet you with the others." She stated, pulling him closer and leaning in for a short, passionate, lip biting kiss before she left him and the room.

She gently closed the door behind her and the echoes of her footsteps on the stone, cold floor followed her to the dungeons. Her pace was quick and she was there within no time. Stood in front of the cell were two imps, they straightened up from their slouched position and took on a defensive stance. "Cute." She said, before kicking them away. They made their disgruntled noises as they scrambled to their feet and scurried away.

[Right [pic https://i.imgur.com/aVED6hJ.png]] Meanwhile, on the other side of the castle, Rowan had just finished getting ready when he heard another knock at his door. He sighed in annoyance and pulled the door open. "What is it?" He snapped, only to find no one there. He was beginning to frown until he heard a squeak. He looked down and saw the little creatures he told to guard the cell, he was about to demand what they were doing there until he remembered his request. Rowan thought he had been discreet in bringing his experiment to the castle, unless the human had been wailing too loudly. He slammed the door shut before the imps could enter. Then, he fixed on his black mask before he allowed the dark to swallow him. He appeared in the dungeons to find Orlaralei talking to the human. The weak man couldn't take his eyes away from her, even as Desire's gaze shifted.

"You weren't going to keep this young man for yourself now, were you?" She asked innocently, as the human desperately tried to reach out to her and squeeze himself through the bars. "He was supposed to be [i my] new test subject. Now you've ruined him." He glared at the woman who was now smirking at him. "I was only playing with him." She replied with a pout. He rolled his eyes before grabbing her wrist, dragging her away from the prisoner who was calling out to her.

"He wasn't yours to play with."
"But, sharing is caring, Rowan. Were you not taught any better?"
He rolled his eyes at that and didn't let go until they were close to the others. Suddenly, he roughly slammed her against a nearby wall and held a dagger to her throat. "Stay away from him, whore." He threatened her before walking into the room where their fellow Archons were.

Orlaralei was unfazed, that same smirk still present as she walked into the room. They were now all there, but seeing as the Harbinger yet to make his appearance, she decided to look to the others. She started with her sibling. Once close enough, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace and, platonically, kissed his cheek. "Brother! You changed your form!" She said finally letting him go. "I hate it, darling, I preferred it when I couldn't see your ugly face. Change back." She tapped his nose and she turned to the Archon of Poverty. Golden eyes looked Aisha up and down, but not in judgement. No, she was enjoying the view and it was very clearly shown.

"Aisha, you are looking as gorgeous as always." She said as she walked behind the woman, she was close to her and she even touched the small of her back whilst passing by. She then ended up by Ganetrius' side but was not quite done with her. "Now, I really do hope you've stopped hating me. I mean at first, it was adorable and cute… But, it very quickly just became painfully pathetic and boring." Her eyes glinted teasingly in the light as she pressed herself against slaughter. "Though, if you do still hate me then I'd be more than happy to come by your room and let you take all that anger out on me." Her tone was now flirty and sultry, and she winked at Aisha towards the end.
The Archon of Slaughter, in life, was a cruel man who delighted in the torture and death of those he captured or those who resisted his tyranny throughout the expanse of his empire. Ganetrius held no kindness nor compassion for his fellow man, so it was both odd and uncharacteristic for him to develop any manner of feelings for Desire. Yet as a mortal man he could not resist her charms as she twisted his ambition and desire for world conquest against him.

Deceit laid the seeds of his destruction with placating words to soothe his fiery temper, but Deceit lacked certain [i qualities] that were needed to sway the warlord into the Lord of Death's service. Once he got what he wanted from Orlaralei, he agreed to become the next Archon after many protests. Ganetrius ended up dying in the war he waged with an enemy to the East, blinded by anger and ambition. An Archon could not exist in a mortal form, only through death could they descend into the bowels of Hell, chained to the Sovereign for all eternity. Slaughter did not have an attachment to the Lord of Death, save for his enjoyment in killing others.

After Ganetrius wrecked havoc on the village with the rest of his [i companions] he went back to the keep, their home away from home while they were stuck on the mortal plane. Slaughter's domain in hell was pure torment for damned souls, a frozen wasteland that encased demons and victims alike, forcing them to tear the skin off their bodies to pry themselves free from the clinging ice. Surrounded by a heavy blizzard Slaughter's castle was a treacherous destination for those who tried to reach his hall.

He went to his room, trailing blood and guts on his way until he was able to properly wash and cleanse himself of the carnage. Ganetrius could feel his power returning, the chain marks were practically all gone, a brief ignition at his hand allowed the trademark flames to envelope his hand. It wasn't as powerful as he was used to, the holy drain of imprisonment lingering; it was progress at least. He could not know when they'd be at full strength but the demon assured them they would regenerate as they worked on freeing Death.

Ganetrius went to Orla's room, a heavy hand knocking upon her door granted him access, she smiled to him as he entered. At her beckon he closed the door behind him without looking back, after so long being trapped in the sarcophagi, it was hardly a surprise how quickly Slaughter and Desire would come together. Their toxic relationship had many ups and downs, woe be the soul that chose to get between them. During good times the victim would be tortured for amusement, during the bad times they would be torn apart in the middle of the Archons' deadly arguments. The man practically pounced on Orla as she was so inviting, yet his touch was surprisingly softer than what one would expect, savoring the night filled with passion. Ganetrius was not able to be a 'gentle' lover, but he did mellow over the centuries with Orla, as best as he was able-some habits were just a lot harder to break.

In a darkened room along the east wing the Harbinger was performing a heinous and dark ritual, from the chest of virgins he ripped out their hearts. Cutting into them with the same wicked dagger he used to free the Archons, pouring the gushing blood into a large ornate bowl engraved with images of death. From the corner the demonic entity dragged a young child, bound and gagged they gave muffled screams and struggled feebly against the creature's grasp.

He held the young human in place, chanting in a foreign tongue, a fiendish language that caused the blood to bubble and churn. The Harbinger then killed the child by dragging the blade across their frail neck, the blood of the innocent causing the crimson fluid to darken and deepen into a rich violet. Draining the life from the small body the demon then tossed the corpse aside to puddle the remaining essence to the floor. The blood reacted heavily to the incantations until it stilled like glass and the face of the oracle appeared, the gaunt deathly face stared with milk-white eyes unseeing the physical realm.

[+blue "Speak, demon, for I have little patience for idle chatter."] The Harbinger nodded with a strange air of respect, as the Oracle was neither of humanity nor hell. A fallen Goddess blinded as her sacrifice for her gift of foresight, the Oracle was a celestial entity untouched by Death. If it suited her she could destroy the entire world and all in it without blinking, her power was without limit and demanded the utmost respect-even from a demon from hell.

[b "The Archons have been freed, as you have decreed, Mistress, yet they are weak and wounded. I have led them to regain some of their powers, but we will need more if we are to free the Lord of Death. What is thy next task?"]

[+blue "To the North, the first key to Raum's cage resides, a Saint fallen from favor her heart turned to ice. She guards the sigil with a bitterness, remove her head and the sigil will fail, then the first gate shall open. The name is Alyssia, place her head in a chest and seal it within the keep lest Kaidos tries to resurrect the Saints, this you must do with every guardian or your task [b will] fail..."]

[center [b ~*~*~]]
The morning light brought a chill to the air and frost dusted the grounds, a cold bite that gnawed at the grief-stricken village and the surrounding grounds. Yet beneath the covers Ganetrius slumbered undisturbed, the twinge of cold taking his subconscious mind back to his homeland. The tundra of the North beckoned to a forgotten soul, a young child left to die in the woods, blood soaked clothes freezing solid with the snow. The boy had nothing left but the cold, his family slaughtered by raiders, his house burned and all possessions lost.

From the pit of despair this boy refused to die, in the coming night he would venture through stealth into the raiders' camp and with stolen dagger return in kind the deaths they gave his family. Again and again he would plunge the blade into their bodies, consumed in tear-filled rage he left no survivors. Beset by death and hardship the boy would learn to take what he wanted to survive, the strong ruled and the weak served-that was the first lesson Death taught him...

A loud knock at the door awoke Slaughter, bringing his mind back from a lost memory, letting it fade back into obscurity as he slowly opened his eyes. Death had been by his side his entire life, watching from the shadows, intrigued by the would-be warlord's progress. Yet the Lord of Death had help in finding his Archons, celestial help that formed a debt to the Oracle-and it was time to collect. Ganetrius rubbed the sleep from his eyes as the knock became more persistent, loudly growling that if they didn't stop knocking he was going to chop their hands off, forgetting for a moment what room he was in.

[i "The Harbinger... your presence..."] The heavy wooden door muffled the voice on the other side, but Ganetrius knew what they wanted as soon as they mentioned the demon. They had more information, and hopefully, they would get closer to freeing their Sovereign. [right [pic https://imgur.com/T5dfQki.jpg]]
Ganetrius / Osiris / 193d ago
((Sorry for the shortness. I didn't want to take too long and further hold up the Rp.))

Rowan used the metal like claws of his beast form to tear and rip at the black skin suit. Mortals watched him in horror and he cackled as they tried to wrap their small, stupid brains around what was happening. This wasn't his true form, it was armour to protect himself whilst he was weak. But, as he gained power through the spread of his beautiful creations, he was able to live in his original self. With each strip taken away, revealed a tall, skinny man with spindly, bony fingers, thin lips that twisted in a sadistic grin, pasty skin and fiery, red hair. He was finally able to kick away his former self as he adjusted and brushed down his clothes. He then adjusted the mask that covered his eyes, nose and forehead before letting out a cackle. "It's good to be back!" He shouted out and snapped his head to look at the mortals, the black glass on the mask glinted under the lighter, only adding to his menacing look.

He had dreamed of this day during their entrapment, the day he could once again spread his germs and diseases. He watched as the mortals emptied their insides on the dirty floor, coughing copious amounts of blood, as their skin became riddled with mysterious lumps, bumps, boils and rashes that they would furiously scratch at. Then, after what seemed like endless torture, their life would leave their bodies and they would drop limply to the ground. Their screams of mine and cries was music to his ears.

There was no doubt in Rowan's mind that he wasn't the deadliest Archon. After all, he always killed the most, his plagues affecting the strongest of men and newest of babies. He may have been the last to pledge himself, but none of the others compared to him. Kain spread pathetic, petty lies, Aisha stole meaningless possessions and Orlaralei seduced the weak minded to do her bidding. The closest that came close to him, and the one he respected the most was Ganetrius. The bloodbaths that Slaughter created was a masterpiece, however, he threw temper tantrums like a child and he had his predictable romance with Desire. This was why he tended to keep to himself, he socialised with the others from time to time but it was always the same and the only drama that occured was Aisha's jealousy and whether or not Ganetrius and Orlaralei were together. Even that grew tiresome and he had not missed hearing them got at each other.

Once he was finally done with the humans, he turned and looked at the other Archons. Desire was going back to causing chaos, her hips swaying and tempting Slaughter. Then, her twin pestered Poverty. She looked very thrilled to have Deceit madly rambling on in her ear. Then that left him. He ran a gloved hand through hair and spotted a human trying to escape. He grinned and in a whirl of black smoke, he appeared in front of the human. "Going somewhere?" He cackled before punching the human in the face, causing him to lose consciousness and drop to the floor. Rowan decided that this human was going to be his new Lab Rat. He'd use this human to experiment his new genius ideas. He reached down, grabbed the collar of the human and began to drag it back to the castle.

Once there, he demanded for a cell to be prepared for their new guest and as soon as he entered the dungeons the Imps scurried away from him, allowing him to get to the prison. He threw the human inside and locked the door. Then, he promptly tucked the key into his pocket and instructed that the Imps guard the door and alert him if anyone tried to free the human. They eagerly nodded their tiny, fat heads and with a chuckle he retired to his room.
Aisha had followed the others down to the village, just the thought of what all she could claim and take away made her excitement rise. She decided to give her powers a little exercise and as she wandered through the streets, she would drag her ebony claws along buildings, people, gardens, even animals. People begged and pleaded with her to stop, offering her gifts and promises if she would stop. She smirked and asked for their money, their valuables, their men to dote upon her while she watched the women be forced to fight one another to try and earn their men back. Affairs were brought to light whether business or pleasure.

She would feed on their desperations, on their greed, and how they turned on each other. Some offered her services, and some doted on her beauty. She turned to one man, young and full of life. Just becoming an adult, barely have been able to even taste love yet. She asked him who the most beautiful woman he had ever seen had been. He claimed her over and over again. That was until his young eyes spotted Desire across the way having her own fun. He then began speaking as if in a trance of the beauty of Orlaralei and this angered Aisha. She glared at the woman as she stood abruptly and growled deeply, grabbing the man by his throat, her claws digging deeply into his flesh as she pulled him close and fed from him. As she did all of those around her began to wither and die around her as well, all turning to dust. As she fed on them all, her horns slowly began to spiral and grow form her hair where they had been broken, and soon she was back to her beautiful self once again.

She waved a hand over her newly obtained treasures and sent them back to her room. She'd been having such fun with them all until Desire had to ruin it all. She was no longer in a playful mood. She didn't even keep a couple of the men to feed on later, she had simply ended them. In her usual haughty attitude, she made her way back to the castle, leaving a trail of lifeless husks and ash in her wake, an outward sign that she was obviously irritated once again. On her way back she noted Orla and Gane had met up with a few passing words, no doubt going to spend the night with one another like it was some secret. She had wondered how long it would be before they coupled again. She waited to let them go into the castle, ignoring the manic wails from the roof where Kain had decided to perch. She would tend to avoid the others when she was in one of her enviously pissed moods. This was usually when Kain liked to bother her the most.

True to his nature, she had started for the castle when Kain dropped beside her, having taken his masculine form, and began to speak with her. He cracked a joke and Aisha could only roll her silvery eyes in annoyance. He then made mention of his looks and she shrugged away from him with a warning hiss. And they said [i SHE] was full of herself. If anyone could match her love for herself, it was Kain for himself. [#e6aa00 [b "Do not test my patience tonight, Kain... I am in no mood for your games...."]] she warned. She flexed her fingers and all one had to hear was the cracking of her joints to understand how angry and jealously enraged she was. He spoke of needing to talk about freeing their Lord of Death, but she continued to walk on, though this did not stop him from speaking to her as they headed on.

He stopped her as he moved in front of her and she placed her hands to her hips as she shifted her weight to one hip. [#e6aa00 [b "Surely, you are not serious... you've tried this before, Kain... your punishments had been lenient, but if you continue to try and overthrow our Dark Lord then eventually you will be punished much, much worse. And don't try acting like I'm the only one you're going to try and bring into this.... last time you did this, you had us all against one another - not like it takes much to do so - and then you were left in pieces for several years to slowly heal over in solitary...Besides.... you claim 'Lord' of Death.... there is in fact a Lady in our group."]] Obviously, she meant herself, she didn't consider Orla to be much of a Lady in her own opinion. Kain just prattled on in his overly energized fashion, she had learned to never watch his hands, only his face when he spoke, otherwise he'd lead you to your own doom if you let him.

He went on about how their Lord was captured, and if they could find a way of taking over the Realms of Hell together, they'd be able to take over the Lord of Death's reign in his absence. She had heard this all before, but then again he did have a point in the fact that this time things were different with their Lord being trapped. The only difference between her and Kain was she wanted to free the Lord, but if she and Kain could manage to round up all the realms of Hell in His absence, then maybe their Lord would finally see how much better she was than the rest of them. Or would He simply consider her a fool for listening to the insane ramblings of a Deceitful Imp? One had to be very careful when listening to Kain and his lies and twisted words. [#e6aa00 [b "If you believe this can work again, you've truly become more insane than you already are...."]]

If she was as crazy as Kain, she just might think that this could work, but it would take a lot of planning, and Kain would have to be able to keep the plans quiet. His twin would try and stop them if she found out, and she was done with Orla always getting things that [i SHE] wanted. Perhaps it might be time that Aisha got what she thought she deserved. HE asked her to think about it, and then soon he was off on his own errands once again. She stood there a moment before continuing her way back to the Castle. Kain's words on her mind. Reaching the castle and up the stairs, through the corridors, she stopped and hid around the corner when she spied Gane at Orla's door. She grit her teeth and her silvery eyes flashed a greenish-gold as he stepped into the room and closed the door.

She stomped to her room in her refueled anger, pacing around her room and lifting treasures here and there until her anger became too much and she began throwing things, uncaring if they shattered on the walls. She never understood why Orlaralei caught the eye of every man, be them of Earth or Hell. Aisha believed herself to be far more gifted in her looks and figure, she was just as powerful, maybe even more. She could bring riches to anyone, or she could ruin them with a single touch. So why did everyone like Orlaralei better than her? Kain's words came back to her. If they found a way back into Hell and brought all the Realms together, she could take Orla's realm from her, use it against her, prove to her that Aisha was the better woman in all ways, and then finally they would all see they had been pining for the wrong woman all this time.

But Gane was protective of her when they were in their "lovey" state. He wouldn't let harm come to Orla if he could help it. Plague hated everyone so would be easy to single out, but those two... Love. Could the Archons even truly love one another? Or anyone? The only one Aisha thought to be able to even possibly love with her darkened heart was their Lord. Another treasure, an ornate vase, was thrown once again with a snarling growl as it shattered against the wall. These tantrums were usual for her, especially when she was in one of her moods. Sighing she stripped down and bathed, grabbing a gown for the night and a robe while she let her mind wander the ups and downs to the Deceitful Lunatics plans.
Aisha / Ravanya / 197d ago
[i (So I am going to be taking over for Deceit. Just for similarity I've named him Kain. xD Now [b I] get to have Mister Impy protect my door!)]

The personification of Deceit changed once more, the overwhelming power surge allowed the Archon to mold themselves anew, shedding the manic jester with a flurry of dark consuming shadows upon the roof. This was his traditional form, the flesh he was born with-he lived through illusions, manipulation to what people perceived him to look like. Kain was the King of Lies, yet the Fool of Souls, there was nothing in his life he did not fabricate in some way. [i 'People are easy to persuade, bluff or intimidate-it was all in the tone, you know.'] Some parts of his personality was deeply ingrained with him no matter what persona he took. Running a gloved hand through his stark white hair he gave it a tousle before jumping off the building, right as Aisha passed him.

[+blue "Aisha, glad to see you here, I just wanted to [i drop in]."] There was a pause as he stopped to laugh at his own silly comedy before continuing, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and got [i way] too far in the Archon of Poverty's space, leaning in he acted like he was going to whisper something. [+blue "Now, before you pass out from how attractive I am... I need to talk to you about this whole 'freeing the Lord' and all that."] Kain kind of took over as he talked rather quickly, like the words could not wait to get out of his mouth, and he constantly talked while on the move.

[+blue "What's to stop one of us becoming the Lord of Death, hm? I cannot be the only one thinking this, right? Check this..."] He removed himself from Poverty's side, to stand in front of her; Kain talked and gestured with hands, kept them moving as an underlying distraction out of habit he learned from all those centuries ago. This was an idea that he expressed before-a long while back before their imprisonment. It was in his nature to scheme and plot, their Lord could not fault him for thinking this way. Typically nothing would ever come of this ploy but the playing field was different now...

[+blue "He's trapped, probably in a hole somewhere-the entire realms of Hell are running crazy, like Great-Uncle Theodoric when he was locked in the brewery by himself over night..."] He trailed off lost in a memory, before he snapped back and continued as if the moment never happened, [+blue "What if we break into Hell, regain control of the five realms?"] Kain moved around Aisha, to her other side still talking with his hands and looking around shadily. [+blue "-With the force of two realms or more, we could easily knock the quack and the man-child out of the competition."] The quack he mentioned was the Archon of Plague, Kain had witnessed them using the power just as he did to regain themselves. The man-child, he didn't think he'd need to explain, everyone [i knew] how badly Slaughter took any negative emotions. Very much like a child who never learned to use their words when angry, Kain kept moving and walking with Aisha every so often turning to look around with a crazed paranoia while plotting.

[+blue "You'd have to leave Orla to me, I know her better, she'd be hard-pressed with the idea as it is now..."] Orlaralei was disgustingly attached to the man-child, the way they hung off each other when they were 'in love' was enough to make him vomit. He made his opinion on Ganetrius very clear, he'll always break her heart repeatedly but constantly Orla takes him back, like a drug they could not abstain. She'd never allow him to take over Slaughter's territory unless she was really pissed at him, which meant Kain had his work cut out for him if he did go through with this. If it backfired he jeopardizes his relationship with his twin, and a scolding from the goat-demon, the Harbinger. He was far too important to kill or lock away, he was the First Archon and he was far too valuable to their Sovereign to get rid of. Kain held up both hands in a shrug as he stepped a little bit away from Poverty, his gold eyes flickered among the blazing fires from the villagers' raids on their own buildings.

[+blue "Just give it a think, right?"] Then he left, as just as quickly as he jumped down he scrambled up another building that was partially on fire Deceit cackled maniacally when he got close to the burning roof. He caused the villagers to gasp, cry out and shriek as he frightened them by screwing around with the flames and throwing firebrands into their small crowds aiming for their heads. He spent hours into the night before finally returning to the keep, going up the stairs he caught Orla's bid to have a horrible night. Kain stuck his tongue out at his twin childishly and hissed that he wished her hair would fall out as she slept; this was their way, certainly there is some modicum of familial bonding in there somewhere. Outside his room he found the fattest imp outside his bedroom door, it got up from sitting on the floor and looked at him confused. It knew him...

[+blue "Mister Impy! Were you waiting for me?"] At his voice the imp gave a snuffling grunt, wiping its grossly slimy nose with its forearm. The imp recognized him at least, stepping out the way as if Impy was strong enough to take Kain on but choosing not to. Kain took off a small boot-dagger, the blade barely three inches long and handed it over to the imp. [+blue "Keep this on you, Mister Impy, I will teach you how to use it and you can protect my belongings with far greater chance than with..."] Kain looked down to what Impy had in his hand, a hand brush for sweeping the floor. [+blue "-A cleaning brush."]

[+blue "Stand guard, ol' chap, I'm hitting the hay."] Kain yawned halfway through his sentence, patting the worshiping Imp on the head as he entered his bedchamber. Deceit would sleep the rest of the night without a single disturbance from his inner insanity, showing just how exhausting the entire ordeal had been. The morning would certainly be better...
Kain / Osiris / 199d ago
Orlaralei's powers grew with every mortal that crumbled under their need to fulfill their desire, she forgot how painfully pathetic they were. But, she loved it, she had missed it and never wanted this to end. She wanted to make the humans burn their village and eachother to a fine ash. However, she refrained from doing so, no matter how easy it could have been. All she would have to do was whisper her wishes into their ears and they'd scramble over themselves to get the task done.

Instead, she turned their hearts black and fed from them. She made lovers tear eachother apart, fighting to be with her, friends and family turning on one another. Then, there were the ones that took what they wanted and when they wanted it. Houses, shops, taverns were destroyed and looted. When they were done, they came crawling back to her, boasting about what they had done, seeking for her approval. It was these ones that she killed.

She would plunge her long sword into their stomachs, slice along their throats, hack limbs off of their bodies. The blood coated her skin and seeped into her clothes, leaving a pile of lifeless bodies behind her. She had just finished cleaning the blood off of her skin with a cloth when a man approached her. He was tall with broad shoulders and strong arms. Yet, as she locked eyes with, he visibly weakened and fell to his knees. He looked up at her devotion, brown eyes staring up at her and his lips parted. As if he were breath taken. A smirk of amusement twisted at her lips. She ran a hand through his brown hair before gripping a handful tightly. The man winced, but never looked away. [#800000 "Am I pretty?"] She asked him, curiosity filling her words. He eagerly nodded his head. [#800000 "Say it."] Her voice was demanding yet soft.

[#6A5ACD "Yes, I have not met a woman as pretty as you and I don't think I ever will. There is no other like you."] She hummed approvingly and the man smiled, happy to know he was doing what she wanted. She let go of his hair before slowly moving around him, much like how a predator circles their prey. Her hands massaged at her jaw, awakening muscles that had not been moved in quite some time. Her mouth began to open and stretch, revealing slits in her skin. A click came from her jaw and it opened much wider than any human should be able stretch. She was finally stood in front of him again and she repeated her question. He took a moment to answer, but his expression never changed. He was in complete awe of her. His hands reached up and grabbed at her clothes, brining her closer to him. [#6A5ACD "Yes, Orlaralei. Yes. There can be never be another that's as pretty as you. Words cannot describe."] She gave another him of approval and nodded her head. Suddenly, she wrapped her hand around his throat, squeezed and began to dig her sharp nails into his skin. He let out a strangled gasp, but he did not stop her, his own hands dropping to his side's. She then slipped a small a dagger and it's blade glinted under the moon. Then, with careful precision, she she slashed two slights from the corners of his mouth and along his cheeks. Her grip around his throat tightened to quieten his strained cries of pain and she began to laugh. Despite all of this, he looked at her the same way as blood spilled down his jaw and mouth.

She slid the dagger back into its holding place and she let his throat go so that she could retrieve her rapier. She ran her finger over it's blade and licked the blood that had gathered on her finger tips. She looked to the man and gave a small scoff before walking past him and out of the tavern. She looked around and took a moment to appreciate the artwork they had all made of the village, she turned to each Archon before eyes finally landed on Ganetrius.

For the first time since their release, they were looking at eachother. She sheathed her sword and waited for him to say something, anything. She knew he wouldn't, she was very much aware of those who were watching. Instead, she followed those piercing eyes of his and her own pale, yellow ones landed on a woman. She then smiled, rather genuinely as she studied the lifeless woman's hanging jaw, skin and muscle torn apart. She flicked her attention back to Ganetrius and made her way over to him. Once close enough, she spoke up. [#800000 "When we get back to the castle, and after you've cleaned up... Come by my room tonight and I'll show you just how much I've missed you."] Her voice returned to its sultry, silky tone. She took her time in looking him and down and even bit her bottom lip before she began to slowly back away from him, and then she disappeared off into the village without waiting for a response.

Her relationship with Ganetrius was complicated to say the least. When they were both on good terms with one another, they never seemed to be apart. Clinging to each other and taking every opportunity to be alone. When they were together, nobody else really mattered and they spurred each other on. However, things always seemed to turn messy and hostile between them. Their relationship was a constant battle of winning and losing. It was toxic, they both knew that, yet it was highly addictive and no matter what one did, the other would come right back. It was a never ending circle that Orlaralei never wanted to end. As she wandered through the village and then finally back to the castle, she passed the time by thinking back on their times together and her fondest memory was their first meeting...

[center ~•~•~•~]

After Ganetrius had caught the attention of her Lord, it was Caen that had been sent down first to convince the warlord to join them. Her twin had been close, so very close with the sweet, promising lies that they had told. Deceit came back empty handed and so, it was Orlaralei that was sent next. She learned what she could from her twin and her Lord before going to earth to bring him in. She had been informed that he was a greedy, bloodthirsty warlord who took what he wanted, when he wanted it. No man, woman or child could stand in his way. She was surprised that Caen could not persuade him, they had filled his thoughts with the possibilities of conquering more than just pathetic kingdoms, that instead he could expand his empire by ruling the entire world.

She already knew it would be an easy task, once she had him trapped under her charm, he'd do anything that she wanted. No mortal had been able to deny her, and she was sure that he would be no different. She planned on continuing with Caen's lies, however she would coat them with her honeyed words and use her charms to manipulate his mind to join them. So, dressed in her finest clothes, she travelled to his city.

At first, she had just been a disappearing face in the crowds for him. Whenever he was outside in public, she'd catch his gaze and send an amorous smile or a flirty wave in his direction. When he would follow her, she led him through markets and homes. But, before he could get too close to her, she would vanish. She would do this for two weeks, enough for him to know that she was not a figment of his imagination and to keep his interest.

Then one day, whilst he was busy torturing the poor, innocent souls of war victims, she snuck into his palace. Of course, she had been able to surpass his guards and servants. If someone tried to stop her, she simply looked at them and they left her alone. She had even convinced a feeble servant to direct him to his throne room. Once outside the sturdy, oak doors she told the servant to retrieve his master before pushing the doors and walking into the room.

The place was grand, with tall stone walls, paintings of previous rulers were hung proudly, strained glass windows allowed streams of light in. A long, plush, red rug led up to the throne that stood at the top of the room. She had walked over and lounged across it as if it were her own. Though, she preferred her throne. She had just been tracing her fingers over the fine metal work when Ganetrius came storming into the room, the crashing of doors being his entrance. He had stood in front of her, handsome face scrunched into a glare, his hand gripping his sword and his booming voice had demanded who she was and to get off of his throne. She had mocked him for his temper before delving into why she was there.

The warlord was an open book and their conversation had turned from glares and threatening, to her sitting on his lap. Then, as they engaged in a rough, lip bruising kiss, Orlaralei knew that he belonged to her and that he would now pledge himself with the ideas that he could rule the world with her by his side. What happened that night turned into history, a history that would repeat itself again and again...

[center ~•~•~•~]

Orlaralei had returned to the castle and after bidding her sibling a horrible night, she retired to her room. She had slipped out of her bloodied clothes and scrubbed the crimson red from her pale skin and black hair. Once dried, she slipped into a dress that hugged at her body and allowed her hair to hang over her exposed shoulders. She had just settled down onto her bed when she heard a knock to her door. She told them to enter and she smiled as she saw Ganetrius come in. She then reached her hand out to him and made a 'grabby' motion at him.

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