Graterras: A Clash of Fates {IC}

[Code: PIRULUK]

Well.

So the Lord in Ugly Clothing apparently could do nothing about Helen's shawl. She was admittedly disappointed, but it could not be helped. She would just have to stain it again at the earliest opportunity. Apparently the reason she was stark naked was because... she had for some reason or other subconsciously chosen that as her appearance. Well, it served no purpose to explore her own mind; she had done enough of that while dead. In any case, it appeared she was here to... correct the wrongs she had committed in her life. Well, she had no doubts about which action she most wanted to rescind...

I'm so sorry Erva...

Helen shook her head furiously to clear her head of negativity. Erva always liked it best when she was smiling.

After a bit of speaking, the Lord with Decidedly Bad Taste raised up the point that others might be concerned about Helen's manner of undress, then struck the ground with his bone-staff-fashion-disaster, which sent chills up her spine...

Chills which were evidently justified as the next moment, her body was clothed in a large, over-the-top ball gown which was, firstly, something she would never allow herself to be seen wearing, and secondly, violet.

"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!"

In a furious rage, Helen ripped the offending piece of clothing off her and tore it to shreds, making sure to leave each piece smaller than her little finger. She hugged herself, trying to get the feeling of the color off her skin. She shot the Lord Who Evidently Did Not Know How To Properly Treat A Fashionable Lady a withering, tearful glare. She felt violated. The last time she had felt this dirty was in that alleyway where she first killed.

Muttering, she wrapped her long shawl around her body as a sort of makeshift dress, the bottom of the cloth angled upward, just barely covering the halfway mark of her thighs, and tied two ends over her shoulder, forming a toga-like shape that at least preserved her modesty, as long as she crossed her legs while seated. She shot an angered look at the Lord Who Really Should Learn How to Dress Better and followed after him, keeping a notable distance between them.

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

Helen's Happening

"Well then... Not sure what the hell was about. If you didn't like it you could've said something you know?" He said in somewhat stunned disbelief. When one heard loud ripping... they tended to look back to see what it was after all. "I could have changed it however you would have wanted." He snapped his fingers now, changing his own garb to a horribly bright shade of yellow, then snapped again as it changed to a strange shade of Pinkish-red. He stayed this colour for awhile remarking the following "I suppose I am the Lord in Amaranth at the moment. It is a strange colour... lot less visually striking than Violet for sure. Besides Violet has always been the Royal Colour of Nevermore! The Rivenholts mostly establishing it. Hmmm... they are a bit silly though probably brings Violet a bad name." He mused on for a bit about the colour violet's history all the while remaining the Amaranth he changed his clothes to.

*At least 6 to 7 minutes of rambling about Violet later.*

"Anyway, maybe next time tell me before you I dunno... go more than a little berserk and tear something to pieces. Not like that matters to me since I made it in like... second flat, but I mean I got magic you might as well tell me what you want I could work it out pretty easily ya know? Anyway I am suuuure there is something pare laying around the Halls... somewhere... probably so that you need not wear that shawl as clothing. I figure that if you asked me to stain it... it has some importance... ,maybe... most don't want white garments soaked in blood stains. Though I suuuuupose you wanted that for trophy purposes... or something." He rambled on for a bit... kinda in shock form the earlier confrontation. He just kept trying to fill the awkward space with talking. It was probably even more annoying. "Look, I'm sorry about that. How the hell was I supposed to know? Other than I probably should have known... probably." He sincerely meant to apologize... though it did nearly seem like he was just talking to himself at this point. Until he switched back to clearly addressing her. "Anyway Milady.There shall be a lot of guests tonight. I would say to be polite... but at some point you will probably be sticking a shiv in their guts so I don't think it is all that appropriate to say that."

((Colour Amaranth for those that do not know.))

[Noir]

"I see." Debronee whispered, the voice barely detectable. And they continued across the vacant, empty dimension, only the Lord perhaps knowing where the clanking sounds of their footsteps would lead them to.

"The Halls of Sorrow respond to myself, you say?" Amidst the few moments of silence, Debronee reintroduced his statement questioningly, to his own uncertain understanding. "My emotions, my entirety, and I accepted such a proposition so unknowingly....." Debronee began to ponder upon his existence here as he muttered under his breath quietly. His voice was soft, but the Lord could still hear him. "A blessing or a curse? Emotions....like my skills, heritages from my guardians. When my final drop of blood left me, I succumbed to the cold grip of death willingly, believing there is no else. Yet this place offers not the cold of death nor the warmth of life. I don't remember yearning for this -- but perhaps I'm just not being honest with myself." He was used to such, perhaps non-sensical thinking; while he wouldn't expect any answers, for once there was this odd longing inside him that the Lord in Violet would respond with what he wanted to know. His forsaken emotions had resurfaced and attacked him for the first time in so long -- why, he thought, why am I feeling like this?

And above all, why am I here? What am I to fight for? He hammered into his mind, locking the words that struggled to be enunciated shut inside his lips. What purpose did exist for him that so compelled him unconsciously here, and what was the Halls of Sorrow to offer him?

Edited June 21, 2015 by YagamiNoir4896

[Felicity]

"To get back to the front lines" Varick responded without hesitation. He knew it immediately. He wasn't about to let his life end there, simply prolonging the fight against the orcs. No, he would put an end to the raids.

"However I don't exactly have power over passing from death, or whatever I am now, to life. I think even a brute like me would have heard the scholars on the Crystal isles squealing about it." Varick continued. He disliked the questions the figure was posing to him. Still, if they were the best way t keep the conversation cordial, and more importantly ongoing, then he would oblige the strange man and answer.

[Code: PIRULUK]

After the cloaked man in front of her changed the color of his own outfit to Amaranth, Helen relaxed a bit. This was a much more reasonable dye. Still not quite fashionable, but not an insult to clothing.

"I would have told you about it, but I reacted instinctively to the terrible color, I apologise."

Helen felt much more comfortable following behind the Lord in Amaranth now.

"Well, being polite is, in fact, one of the things I excel at. So long as the other party does not attempt to attack me. Or force me into a fashion disaster. As for gut-stabbing, I try to avoid that, usually. The stench of digestive fluids is hard to wash out from most fabrics. Well then, sir Lord in Amaranth, do lead the way."

[Ragnar]

"This place is no afterlife Frostburn. It is a world between planes of the damned, deceased and the forgotten, and the land of the living.You should know this after all. It is you who answered the invitation I sent you. I figured you would know best of what this world is considering you answered it quite quickly."

Neville can't help but to wryly smiled at Lord Violet's statement as he takes it a form of a compliment and an insult at the same time. The wizard remains silent and watches the Violet man phases back and forth.

"So, is it safe to say that you don't know why you are here then too huh?"

"Yep, still clueless" Neville immediately said and shrugs. "I know rushing into battle wasn't the brightest of my moments, but I could have sworn I could take them all and make it out alive, they just got lucky that's all." Neville released a playful smile as he leans lazily on top of his staff.

"Anyways, would you mind filling me in on why did stumble upon here? I would like to know where i'm going from here on out." Neville said. "By the way, I can't help but to notice that your hideous staff is looking at me, and quite frankly, it's making me feel a bit uncomfortable. is it alive or something? are you magic user such as myself?" the wizard bluntly asked Lord Violet.

Edited June 21, 2015 by Ragnar

[Zephyrus the Priestess]

Answered it of her own free will...? A confused look crossed Ayla's face, an eyebrow lifting just a little bit. It seemed that this peculiar man was just as lost as she was with regards to what in the ever-loving pits of hell she was doing there. "Am I not dead?" she asked aloud, gesturing to herself-- a wasted gesture, perhaps, as she followed the Lord in Violet from behind.

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

Vayne's Visit

"You are here because you answered the Invitation... not sure how many times I have to say that before it sticks." He said staring on the man. Humor probably wasn't the best approach... but he had to do something to get rid of the excess frustration he had been given. "Anyway... all shall be made that much clearer as we reach our destination my boy. But you have a stake in the Clash of Fates. It is why you were sent the invitation. As you have a great travesty to solve... an overpowering regret... you have a chance to undo it. But, let us make haste to the Halls. There is much to be done."

Debronee's Disembarkment

"Not unknowingly... Misinformed perhaps, but not unknowingly. It was you who poured the energy into the Invitation. You materialized your form here quite willingly. Now... the free will of doing something... and knowing why you choose to do that thing, are entirely different." He said. He still wasn't particularly interested in the young man. However, it changed ever so slightly at the sight of his plight. He seemed not to even understand his own feeling and emotions and he wrestled with them himself. Perhaps it caused the poor melding of his mind to the body when he first arrived. It was a possibility. The effects of this mental state were much more interesting to the Lord in Violet than the man himself. But, he wasn't about to reaffirm that for the one following him. "I cannot tell you why you are here to fight and why you hold a claim in the Clash of Fates. However... we may learn more at my Keep, the Halls. Quickly, come with me."

Varick's Visit

"Hmm, a real straight shooter we got here. You know what you want. Good to know. You are a lot easier to talk to than some of the others that came through here. They have tired so much crazy tomfoolery already... one of them even tried chopping me up with swords made of dark energy. Was nuts I tell you." The lord in Violet said. He seemed to be drifting off for some reason, which was a strange thing considering he just complemented Varick on being straight and to the point. He quickly refocused though... it was strange talking to him as he would seemingly not be paying attention and yet still be up to speed on the conversation. "Anyway, you would be correct that you cannot get to the World of the Living... nor the dead from here unless... well something is met. If you die of course you will carry on with your journey to the afterlife right from where the Invitation plucked you. Otherwise... you will need to win the Clash of Fates, the whole reason you are here in the first place. Let us continue to my Keep, we can talk more there, and certainly get into more detail."

Helen's Happening

"It was that bad? I had no idea. Is there something wrong with the colour Violet? Either way I duly apologize for that mistake. I will not make it again. Please Milady, take my hand I shall walk you to my Keep. It is the very least I could do." He reached out his hand to her making a small bow. His hand was wrapped in what appeared to be a velvet black glove. "And the gut-stabbing was a metaphor. I don't care how you kill them, do whatever you please." He said holding his bow.

Neville's Encounter

"It is? It shouldn't be doing that. Lemme see." he reached up to the skull sitting on his staff and plucked it from the top. It came off rather simply even though it looked like it was well on there. He hit it trying to see if there was anything inside of it. Nothing. "Yea no... your just crazy, anyway doesn't matter we have things to deal with. Well... you do. We are headed for that Keep, the Halls of Sorrow, my Halls. I shall lead the way. Perhaps we shall talk on the way?"

Ayla's Arrival

"Yes... and no. You died in the world of Graterras, but you are now in a world between the planes of the Living and the damned, deceased and decayed. I suppose during the transition to the Afterlife... you received my invitation, and you answered it. However... while you did so of your own accord... I can't really answer to you why. Most come here to fulfill a regret. they arrive because they have a claim in the Clash of Fates." the man mused as he walked ahead. He quited down awaiting the response from Ayla... though he didn't expect much of one.

[Felicity]

"Swords... made of Dark energy." Varick repeated slowly with a blank look on his face, finding it quite difficult to imagine as he walked with the figure. "I hope that whoever I am to 'Clash' with is experienced in more mundane means of attack because really that sounds ridiculous. Then again, what can I expect from something with the title Clash of Fates?" Varick commented. Already he was considering what kind of fight this would be, assuming it was indeed a fight. If it wasn't he didn't have a hope.

[Zephyrus the Priestess]

A regret. Regret... one that led her to answering this man's invitation of sorts and to her being caught in between living and dying, so to speak. The latter, strangely, didn't faze the half-Drow horribly; stranger things have happened in the land and lore of Graterras, after all. If heroes could come back to life despite having their souls nearly disintegrated, then Ayla's own being trapped in limbo made enough sense on its own. What baffled her was her "reason" for heeding the call, if she even had any. Surely Lord Draven knew what her purpose for still existing... but he certainly wasn't telling. This man probably wasn't a follower of the Heartless One, either; he'd addressed her as "Draven's Faithful" rather than as a sister in faith and had no message for her from the god, it seemed. Why, then, he wore the feathers of ravens, baffled her, though only minimally. Even so, she fiddled with her own coat's raven's feathers.

Thinking back to the moment not so long ago when she felt warmth in her core, she traced her thoughts. Regret certainly did seem like something powerful enough to bring one back from the dead, following the tales of specters and howling wraiths she'd read so often. What she recalled... were bitterness, bewilderment, a general sense of chaos, doubt.

The man in violet probably would not see her as the initial look of confusion was swept away, replaced by an expression of resentment, as she pieced together her "regret".

[Code: PIRULUK]

Helen shook her head slightly at the Lord in Amaranth's proffered hand.

"Apologies, but I must refuse. I'm not entirely comfortable with touching a man. Or really, touching anybody that isn't the woman I love. I've had... several bad experiences involving skin contact. Please understand. Nonetheless, lead the way. I shall follow, rest assured. It's not like I have anywhere else I need to be, considering that I'm relatively dead."

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

Helen's Happening

"Hmmm, no problem Milady. I mean not to impose. Though, I am not really a mortal man, I am something... a bit different. However, nonetheless I will respect that which was shared between you and Erva. I am not a heartless being after all, I would not trample upon that ground." He said not realizing he had said Erva's name out loud. It was a pretty bad slip to let loose. She had not told him directly her love's name yet, however, by the fact that he had seen her soul and now gathered the context from talking to her... he let slip that her name was known by him. As he didn't notice it he did nothing to correct the situation only continuing to walk, his staff clanking on the ground as he walked. The blue beads on his staff kept faintly glowing as the rain touched them. they seemed to beat with the same pulse as the rain. It was just something that could be seen now as the rain started to pour a bit harder. "At least allow me to shelter you from the rain Milady. You mustn't get drenched in this state of dress, it wouldn't be lucrative to your health." He tapped his staff into the ground once more this time the Blue beads glowing wildly. Around the pair a bubble of water started to expand outwards. He center of which was completely dry. The rain on the outside hit its surface and flowed along with it keeping the rain off their backs for now.

[Code: PIRULUK]

So the man-person-thing knew about Erva. Well, Helen was not entirely surprised, to be sure; Even if he had no hand in bringing her here, as a self-proclaimed overseer, it was evident he would have knowledge of her beforehand. At least he did not dwell long on it; the wound was far too recent for Helen to be willing to poke at it.

Helen could not help but notice that the Lord in Amaranth was far more gentlemanly and amicable now. Must be the Amaranth. As they say, clothes make the man. So a man in a more agreeable shade of color would be fundamentally more agreeable. Helen nodded her head in conviction; this logic was tested and flawless. As the Lord in Amaranth very kindly provided a shelter for her, she wordlessly followed behind him. The shelter was unnecessary, she was more than capable of keeping the rain off herself, but it would mean exposing her skills and abilities, which she would rather avoid. It would also coincidentally involve using the shawl which she now was wearing as clothing, which would leave her stark naked again, but that was hardly a major concern.

[Noir]

Debronee had yet to comprehend the meaning behind his existence there. The only thing he knew now was to obey and follow the cloaked Lord. That was the only thing he could do.

"Guide me." He whispered. It was a genuine plea. "I will follow, without objection."

With a slight gesture, Debronee followed the Lord on the seemingly empty journey to the unkwown destination. There was only another array of endless silence.

"If I must fight, I but require a weapon." Debronee suddenly said. "A blade."

It wasn't until then he realized something was strapped on his back all this while. A sheathe. Debronee removed the sword concealed within it. It was one of ancient heritage, with a recognizable silver mark and dark sapphire at the pommel. He grasped the view of the sword with mild astonishment.

My father's sword. The Ka'Gul Blade. He thought. Debronee examined the edge of the blade's keen tip. None of it's battle scars had been tarnished and scarred, the very remains of history. For once, Debronee's blade was also empty of the thick, metallic stench of sanguine that would linger even if after he cleaned the scarlet off the sharp edges. "I'd implanted this beside my master's grave as I struggled to die -- the same blade I killed my own grandfather with. Yet why would that be with me now?"

He also realized that this was the only person apart from Donovac that he'd actually had some form of conversation, even if it was slight, devoid of his usual silent and taciturn demeanor. Perhaps he had succumbed to this own plight, at this point.

Edited June 21, 2015 by YagamiNoir4896

[Flux]

A...chance to undo it? Could it really be true?

Vayne sprinted to catch up with the Lord in Violet, obviously more attentive and involved in the conversation now. "I can... undo my wrongs? Can that really be done?" He could feel the elation rising up inside of him. He was being given a second chance... And if he succeeded in whatever this "Clash of Fates" was... he could see her again. A smile burst onto his face, though he quickly pulled it away, albeit with a bit of difficulty. It was then that he first remembered something else.

...Krov. His elation was dented by the thought of his raven companion, though the idea of a second chance was too much for anything to completely overcome right now. If I succeed.. will I get to see Krov again too?

He followed the Lord in Violet silently as he mulled over these thoughts.

[Chevaleresse]

Silef snorted. "Special. I suppose you could apply that term to me." I wonder how much he has heard of my house, if anything at all. "What is this place, anyway? I feel as if I should recognize it, especially attached to the name, but sadly I do not." Halls of Sorrow? The name didn't bode well, and she was fairly certain she remembered dying. . . it was rather difficult to mistake the feeling of an arrow tearing through one's heart. Was this the afterlife?

[Kurotsune]

Matthew shrugged.

"I want to live. Is that not a reason as good as any?"

He peered around one last time, and finally lent the man a small nod.

"Let's get to the fighting. I'd rather get this over with as soon as possible."

[Ragnar]

"But.. but i've chould have sworn.." Neville scratch his head as he stammered. "Eh forget it, i thought i would see some magic, i thought you were somesort of a wizard or something seeing that your holding that freaking looking staff." Neville said, oblivious that this purple man is not like what he think he is.

"i guess being in the aurora can get a bit be lonely sometimes as it's hard for me to find an arcarna user such as myself to keep me company in that place. Where i came from, all i see is primative warriors who mindlessly bash their heads and freak out when they saw a little magic as they look upon it with disgust." Neville sighed.

"I find it quite revolting actually, for someone who doesn't respect and appriciate the beautiful art of sorcery. I guess you could say, i was born in the wrong part of the world." Neville shook his head from speaking his experience in living in the icy tundra.

"Anyways, that's all in that past now, Lead the way Purps, off to my new adventure! off to the hall of sorrow we go! i'm sure it's just a name right?" Neville jovially said to the Lord in Violet, as the naive young wizard tries to keep things positive while spinning his wooden staff like a baton. i mean what's worst than death?

Edited June 21, 2015 by Ragnar

[Aurorix]

"Very well," Zagi said as he headed off towards the purple keep with Violet. "So about the things you said before, you said you invited me to something, what exactly did you invite me to?" He asked the man, cape flowing behind him as he walked. This was all coming a little fast, waking up alive again, meeting this purple cloaked stranger, given all this new information. Though, with the last one he's asking all the questions so he can't complain about that. There was a slight pause before he asked another question. "Also how was I able to create my own body, if people could just do that then why haven't I seen or heard of it until now?"

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

Debronee's Disembarkment

"Because, it isn't the same sword. And yet it is the same sword. You summoned that one. It is the very same blade though, just a new version of it. You summoned along with the body you now possess." the Violet clad one said. He kept up his rather vigorous pace as he talked. It seemed doing both at the same time didn't phase him at all. As if he was used to talking all the time. "It is thus that with you... the blade was reborn anew. It is the pure naked form it was when you received it as you remember it. Therefore it has accompanied you to this place. It's original still lies with your master if that makes you feel any better. Even if they are the same sword. Think of this one as its shadow, as you are the shadow that was created to battle here. I will explain more as we reach the Hall, and once all are assembled... we shall begin."

Vayne's Visit

"Perhaps, though it is impossible for me to know. While I oversee this Clash... I don't know of its reward. You'll have to win to find out for certain. What I know, is that the reward can cleanse the greatest Regret... the greatest sorrow of the soul. What that means... I do not know. As the Reigning Lord of Sorrow... I cannot know its power. It is my duty to watch over it, nothing more. I do apologize for not being very helpful Master Vayne, but such is the way of things. You want to see her again don't you?" he said, being unable to resist. He felt for the young man's plight... doing what he thought would save the love of his life only to ruin the lives of her... and everyone else he cared about. It was a hard tale to watch. Though... Sorrow couldn't help but feel for the boy. It was probably the hopeless romantic in him seeing an act of love turn into something completely horrid... twist on the young one so violently, that made him feel this way. But such was the world of Graterras. It was an ugly dark world. The dark mar the World itself left on every soul that came here to him... He saw it every time. Very few got to him, he was used to it after all. But this one did. He still faced away from the Ranger behind him. If it weren't for that and the downpour of rain, Vayne might have seen the single tear drop down his face. "A story all to real for me... It hits too close to home." he thought to himself.

Silef's Session

"Well Milady, I am honestly not surprised. Many of those that have passed through recently haven't know of it. Tey are my Halls though. A place where... every so often a duel of fates is held. The very Clash of Fates. It is a great tournament that only certain souls are permitted to enter. Only certain souls have a stake in the Clash of Fates... however... you should know this after all. You answered the invitation. You are here because you have a stake in this very battle yourself. I shall tell you more inside, as we have many more guests to await the arrival of." He said, ever so slightly picking up his pace.

Matthew's Meeting

"Aye, then let us precede. Destiny awaits in the Halls of Sorrow." said the Lord in Violet as he made an abrupt turn.

Neville's Encounter

"Hmmm, names hold more power than you would think. Also, don't let your guard down, you never know what someone truly is unless you have seen their naked soul before you. Don't be so quick to dismiss things." The Lord mused. The violet beads on his staff glowed for a split second. A Shrill cry of some sort of bird cried out, as the skull turned to face Neville, purple energy burning its eye sockets. "It may not be alive... but don't think for a second I am some fraud. I have more powerful magic than you will probably ever know. Anyway, as you said we have business to attend to. Let us make haste to the Halls."

Zagi's Exordium

"You own a claim in the Clash of Fates. It is a duel that prize... is something that cleanses the soul of its greatest sorrow, its greatest regret. As such the invitation was sent to your soul as it floated within the limbo between the afterlife, and the world of the living. it is thus, that you answered the invitation, pouring the energy yourself into it. It created your new form here, on this plane to take part in the Clash of Fates." The Lord in Violet said. He kept walking towards the Great Keep that sat on the lonely hill. He didn't look at Zagi as he talked to him. Not out of disrespect, but out of the fact he was trying to speed along their trip to the Halls of Sorrow. "The answer to your second question is thus, this powerful of magic is not in the grasp of mortals. If one could normally recreate their body... a lot of life would truly be meaningless. It is only in the gods hands that this create power to create is lain. So... if you had heard of it normally, I would be greatly surprised. Not even the most powerful of Clerics of a god can replicate this magic. While they can re-affix the soul to even the smallest piece of it's old container... they can't truly create a new one for it."

[Nero Chaos]

The chill of winter's teeth tore into Aodh's battered body, dancing with a sullen elegance with the howling violence of Northern winds, fueled by the merciless will of nature that inexorably laid down the course of this mad parade. Aodh felt the comforting support of a wall of stone behind him as he bathed in the torrent of snow and wind swirling around him. The winter storm was thick, and Aodh could see no farther than two meters in any direction. Though he could no longer see the companions he had so valiantly fought with, he could perceive that they had passed before him. It was at once a saddening thought and a soliciting comfort. His friends, his love, and his people had fallen yes, but perhaps the embrace of death was a warmer touch than the harshness of this desolate tundra so violently jarred by petty war. Aodh unconsciously attempted to shift his body forward to regain some feeling in his numbed limbs, but to no avail. The fresh blood that had spouted from the canvas of wounds so brilliantly painted upon his body had caked into an ugly caricature of crystallized life that had stuck to the icy grip of the mountainside he rested upon.

How many battles had passed?

How many struggles did he endure?

How many people had died for him?

To all these questions that flashed through Aodh's mind, the answer was grim. Many battles. Many struggles. Many people. His whole life had been one commentated vivaciously by disaster incarnate. Fortune besieged Aodh and luck fled his tenuous grasp. Perhaps it would be apt to say that Aodh's life had little meaning, if any. He had championed the brightest ideals of human nobility, but history the ever fickle mistress would cast away Aodh's life with but a nod of ephemeral admiration. Even on the grander scale of things, Aodh's life was one without success or remembrance. Yet Aodh was no true hero, nor had he ever desired to become a hero. It mattered not to him that his praises would be unsung. It merely pained him that those around him were swept away in the disastrous yet euphoric brilliance of his actions and spat out into a ravine of passing. He had simply stood stubbornly by the same mindset he had been born with.

Aodh soon grew weary as his bodily functions slowed to a crawl. He closed his eyes in a passing moment of somnolence, and knew that they would cease to open once more. The cold was enough to secure this notion, welding his eyes tightly shut with hastily forming crystals of gnawing ice. It was a sickening irony, to be enveloped by the very environment one had fought against all throughout life. But it did feel right. From the cold was Aodh reared, and to the cold he would rest. There was no regret. Rather, there could be no regret for someone like Aodh who was devoid of the materialistic urges of becoming a celebrated hero. It only mattered that he had stood by his ideals, and this he had done so to satisfaction. Instead, there was a selfish wish that Aodh considered as a passing thought before he fell into the unending hollow of the end.

To Aodh's surprise, he awoke from what he perceived would be his eternal slumber. His body that had been so ravaged by wounds was now restored, albeit the countless scars he had garnered over his past battles had remained intact. The garb Aodh bore himself in was the same he had faced death with. Simple and durable leather garments covered by plain plate armor in vital locations intertwined with leather protections, Minimal armor for someone who would be a front line fighter. The sounds of encroaching foot steps upon stone alerted Aodh, and he instinctively tensed his body in feral stoop in preparation for battle. However, the figure he gazed upon was one that emitted no hostility. Aodh eased his body as he heard the query the man launched,

"I am the Lord in Violet... Who may you be?"

Rather confused but confident in his bearing, Aodh responded,

"I am Aodh Ninian, and I ask you the same question you ask me."

[Chevaleresse]

"I see," Silef mused, keeping her thoughts to herself for another moment. She picked up her pace to match that of the man(?) beside her as she pondered what he had just told her. The Clash of Fates? Cleansing the soul of sorrow? Sounds like nonsense; but I am here. And what is this talk of an invitation? I merely appeared here, after what I thought was the end of my life. Finally, she spoke. "This all sounds like something out of a legend. I'm afraid I remember very little of them; my life does - did, I suppose, at this point - not permit time for listening to tales around the hearth."

[Raindrop Valkyrie]

Aodh's Advent

"Hmmm, I guess I will have to talk slower if you are asking a question I already answered. I... am... the... Lord... In... Violet. You catch that this time or do I need to spell it out for you too?" he sarcastically replied. "Anyway... do you know why you are here, and what you are in fact here for or must that also be lain out before you? I don't mind either way... it just be nice to know." The figure mused.

Silef's Session

"As is common for the souls that come through here I find. Not that many would know of the Halls these days. It was never a place True Heros traveled through. It is merely the conjuring point of souls who weren't strong enough to do what they originally intended. Those that's names are lost in history, forgotten. This place offers redemption for them... but only through bloodshed and battle. It isn't a glorious place, it is just one of purpose. As such I doubt tales about it would hold much interest to the world at large. Those of Graterras aren't much interested in the plights of those that weren't strong enough to make the right choices in their mortal life. As such... I doubt many remember much of this place." He said trudging onward. He fell nearly silent after saying this. Not much passed into the world other than the sound of his breathing. Though, even that was hard to hear over the sound of the ran. His boots sounded all the more heavy as they hit the cobbles beneath them, his staff as well.

[Flux]

"You want to see her again don't you?"

Vayne sighed. "Of course..." he replied quietly. And then, at an almost indistinguishable level of volume, he added, "...more than anything in the world."

He pulled his hood up over his head to protect himself from the rain, simultaneously hiding his face from anyone else who my be waiting at their destination. He followed silently behind the Lord in Violet as they made their way to the Halls of Sorrow.

[Ragnar]

"HA! i freaking knew it! i knew there was something special about you!" Neville shouted out in amazement as he pointed out the magical bird staff. Neville was always a child at heart when it comes to magic and always gets excited whenever he sees one, no matter how big or small its display is and tis the main reason he became a wizard. Neville can't help but to giggle like a fan girl as the young wizard comes to his senses and finally spoke.

"So what exactly do we do in the Halls of sorrow, besides sorrowing?" Neville asked the purple man.