Re: Eternal, Veldygar - The Water Republic Mission
It was a normal day for the Immaculate Monks who guarded the door. Though their training and meditation made every day vital, every day important, there was only so much importance they could impart on what was ultimately a trivial task, especially for people of their considerable skill! They were Immaculates Monks of the Earth Dragon Style! There had been trouble below this level, true enough, but here, with the soft rumblings rolling off the walls from the mining machinery nearby, even those whispered threats seemed far off and unrealistic. Five Coils had existed for untold centuries, and it would no doubt stand for centuries more.
Or so they thought.
Nestled in the shadows of Creation, Eternal slowly crept into the entrance of the hallway that they guarded, red eyes invisible to their 'intense' training, surveying the two of them with such hate as to almost be palatable. Surely Veldygar would be able to taste the outright rage he felt toward the two monks, a man and a woman that had done no wrong save for being born Dragonblood, and born within Five Coils. Both offensives a grave, grave injustice that Broken Eternal intended for them to atone for.
In blood.
There was no warning that foretold the first strike, no battle cry or reason given. The two guards, forbade to talk while on this most sacred of duties, had allowed each other a small smile. The shift wasn't too far from being over, after all, and friendship was not uncommon in the brotherhood...and the smiles exchanged, albeit brief, hinted at a bit more than a simple link of comrades in arms. And as that subtle smile began to fade from the man's lips, as thoughts of what the end of the shift might potentially bring, the first blood was drawn. At first he wasn't entirely sure what had happened. There was an ear rending screech as a powerful blade tore into durable armor, and he felt a very colt line extend from his navel to his shoulder...and then he saw the blood, surely not his own, suddenly spray outward from the flayed flesh. The large droplets of blood did not simply sail into the air, however, but a few essence guided droplets found purchase on something solid--something unseen, and something very, very deadly.
Still in shock at the sudden blow struck against him, the monk began to raise his maul, though what he was going to swing at, he wasn't entirely sure. The pain of his chest had not quiet registered yet, and something inside his mind, in that infinitely wise place where all universal truths met, he knew it was just a flesh wound--messy, but nothing that would kill him. But it was only the beginning, he knew, and he had to do something, and he had to do it quickly. But the Sons of Pasiap were not known for their quickness of body, and before his great weapon moved but inches, the malicious force struck yet again.
Two blades covered in gore suddenly appeared from within him--one from the center of his chest, just shy as his heart, while the other burst from his stomach. Unlike the comparatively dainty first strike, these two blows struck with massive force, sending bits of bone and tissue erupting from the wounds as the blades twisted in tandem, coaxing a tortured gasp of belated horror from his partner, who had just began to notice the attack. As soon as they had entered, the blades quickly vanished, pulled out in arcs as the monk's blood was splattered against the walls as the invisible force of nature retracted the artifact blades. The monk lurched forward, his legs faltering as the shock deepened, and the realization began to surface that, perhaps, he was dying. Or, even more darkly and realistically....that he was already dead. Massive maul dropped, he reached out for the woman he had known for most of his life--who he had trained with, eaten with, and had grown to care about very much. He tried to speak, to say words forbidden by tradition, but could not find them.
Before she could reach out for him, before she could even bring to bear her own weapon in his defense against the unseen assassin, he struck again. The short Darkglaive whistled through the air is malevolent intent, and quickly discovered a geyser of blood and shattered bone as the Immaculate Monks massive left arm was completely severed. The meaty limb fell to the ground with a defeated thud as jet-streams of precious vitae pumped from the cleanly severed stump left behind. Unlike the spare droplets before, these shot out with violent rebellion, and finally gave shape to their attacker. Though most of his body still laid behind the veil of creation, the crimson life within the monk revealed splashes of the attacker, of his swift movements and deadly strikes. And they revealed that the final assault on the poor monk was not, in fact, over with. The blade arced high, stained with Immaculate blood as the sanguine-bathed attacker surged forward one more, this time kicking the monk full in the chest, sending him hurtling backwards and slamming into the wall with such force that cracks splintered out behind the dying man. Then, just as he caved into the wall, Eternal was there once more, one of his blades digging into the man, pushing through him and into the hard rock beyond--pinning the gushing unfortunate like the bleeding insect that he was.
With his hand still on the hilt of the impaling blade, Broken Eternal slowly turned to look at the surviving monk who was still untouched, save for the mess of blood that has splashed onto her face and armor. Dark veins of the blackest energy sizzled as the blood began to evaporate off of his body, leaving spider-webs of his form for her eyes to latch onto--to refuse and hate, to question and fear. He turned completely then, giving the impaled blade a final twist into the hard rock wall and the man caught between them, and then left him there, bleeding and speechless, his eyes already starting to fade into the black abyss that awaited him.
"Watch carefully..." He said to the dying warrior, while his blazing red eyes, visible from the betraying blood, were locked on the woman left still living. His right hand dropped to his side and carefully, almost tenderly cupped the Monk's chin, and made his eyes rise to look at the woman. "I've only just begun to make you suffer."