Out of Character:
my greatest/longest intro thread...ever


He looked up.

In a deep regal blue sky, the moon sat, glowing, showering bright moon rays down onto the ground like a seige of spotlights. Almost clichely, a large moon ray showers down upon the towering being who now strode forth.

He had arrived here from Heaven, an angel on a mission, but not one sent from God, or rather the being that the long dead Earthlings once believed in. No he was here to find his father, through whatever means necessary. But....who was he? And where did he hail from? And exactly who was his father?

His name was Arutha, true angel, and son of the legendary Arch Angel, Saint Michael. Now this title obviously gave away his place of origin. Yes, Heaven was his home, but take note, was not is. Yes, Heaven had been his home for several hundred years, but he had left it to come find his father, who was just Michael, or dad, in his eyes.

Arutha was a towering giant of an angel, standing somewhere around 6'7" in height, with shoulder length black hair, that as if by magic, never seemed to find itself in Arutha's startlingly ice blue eyes. With a pale, seemingly drawn, yet healthily full. Not only was he tall, but he also was broad, yet seemingly lean. With beautiful, full, stark...no, pure white, angel wings. He walked with a calm, elegant ease, that was marred by small rustles and clanks, that echoed around his sparse surroundings. This could be due to the huge amount of weapons he possessed and carried with him at all times.

Lining the thighs of the mithril armour he always wore, were the japanese shruikens, deadly throwing stars, that he could throw with an accuracy any weapon throwing expert would envy. Attached to both sides, in soft white velvet sheaths, were two kataunas, visciously sharp blades that could pierce flesh like it was a lump of butter. A rapier also adorned his left side, in easy reach of his right hand, its sheath sitting directly below on katauna. Agile and light, this was a weapon for none, but a master...or a fool on a suicide mission. Adorning his right side, directly above the second katauna, were two sickle shaped weapons, chained together to create a deadly creation, one known as the flails. Light weapons, meant for fast combination moves, and a weapon that was just as likely to kill its user as it would kill an opponent.

This was not all, Arutha carried a normal steel lance, across his back, it's sheath sliding right between the joints of his wings, along with another sword of unusual quality. Made of a rare metal, known as "soft" mithril, was a rare long sword that would never dull. This sheath also slid between the massive wing joints.

One other blade was carried, and it was the most precious of everything that Arutha carried. Known as Jackal the Souleater, created by Satan himself, was a long two handed bastard sword, more commonly known as a great sword, that was tinged a light blue, and gave off a very faint glow. It had more properties, but none are so important, as to be forced to explain them now.

Arutha carried many weapons, but he knew how to use them well...very well.

While he was of Heaven he had left, long ago, but as of recently, he had visited the floating city of the Angels, known as Angelus, or at least he had visited what remained of it. Indeed, the second greatest of angel cities, second in magnificence only to the City of God or the City of the Golden Gates, capitol of the angel empire, was now nothing more than rubble...

But it had been there that Arutha had met his uncle, Nenal and had learned the truth behind the destruction of Angelus. The culprit...was none other than Nenal himself, seeking to avenge the death of his love, because the angels there had been too stupid to listen to the warning of a fallen angel. A warning that consisted of a plan to invade Angelus, an invasion spawned on the Corone region of the world Althanas, in which Angelus had hovered over for eons.

The angels had turned them back, but the price had been high...too high. In his grief, Nenal unlocked more power than any other could have thought fathomable, and had rent Angelus asunder, leaving only a small token of its former beauty.

It had been here, that Arutha discovered the memorial to Nenal's beloved, who had been killed in cold blood, and Nenal, in his last sane moments, had told Arutha the horrible truth of his father's disappearence...and the truth had led him here, to what Earthlings would have called The Valley of Shadow and Death.

The Valley of Shadow and Death, was in fact, the valley that led to the Black Gates of Hell, and Arutha was about to step out of the frying pan, and into the fire.

Continuing forward, Arutha looked around. Not much too see, some shrubbery, and a lot of rubble and larger rocks. The path was hard, but Arutha knew he was almost there.

Walking forward...ever forward...and then he was there.

Where was there? Arutha wasn't sure, but he had a pretty good idea that he was about to find out.

Standing in front of him was a tall 7' cloaked figure. It was hooded in a black billowing robe, and it's breath rattled like nothing ever heard before on any world, living or dead. Nothing else was distinguishable except for the fact that it stank like a half burned corpse, and that it was long dead. Or at least that's what Arutha thought. The dead, rotting flesh, on the hands sort of gave it away, as it turned to face a the ancient granite door, that he had just realized was there.

A blood red glow emanated from the thing's hands as it placed the rotting flesh firmly onto the door, and a smell reached Arutha's nostrils and he wished to gag, but he held it in, instead treating himself to a grimace. The smell, was distinctly the same type of scent one would expect to encounter, when boiling tar, rubber, and flesh over the sun like one was making s'mores.

Then it was over, and the scent dissapated, and the thing reached for the door knob. Oh Lord, grant me patience, the damn place has a door knob! Arutha thought with exasperation.

Turning slowly, the thing pushed the door slowly inward, and stepped back. Swinging silently on unseen hinges, Arutha could hear the sound of water churning from within. Glancing at the specter like creature, it made a vague gesture, indicating that he should proceed forward.

Stepping up onto the small granite step, Arutha was now level with the long dead man, and he could hear it's rasping breath in his ear, and then, he was through. Taking three steps forward he stopped and gazed upward.

Huge spikes of ice, easily as broad as a man, some big enough to split an elephant in half, hung ominously above. Arutha suddenly whipped around, he had heard the tell-tale rattling breath, but it was too late, the ancient granite door swung shut with a tremendous bang that echoed against the granite walls.

When the door had swung shut, there was darkness...

And then there was light!

Bursting into life, torches that lined the wall all the way around the huge cavern combusted, and light was present in the dark, dismal chamber. The chamber itself was fairly large, stretching out to about the length of a football field, with a large gap in the middle, where no ground was present.

Walking slowly out to the edge, he immediately recognized this place as some sort of chasm, and down a path supported by steel beams, was a round platform, that was also supported by the steel struts, over very turbulent water.

Arutha could see fierce movement from his vantage point and knew somehow knew that there were animals in that water. Arutha doubted that, given the present circumstances, the creatures there were goldfish.

Not trusting the path as a safe way to get to the platform, Arutha spread his wings and with two great pumps, he was airborne. Floating slowly out and down, Arutha touchdowned on the steel platform gently, making sure that it would hold his weight.

That's when a relatively calm adventure, decided to take a turn for the worse.

"Fear not death, for it has no rule here. You are to face a force too great for your own strength. Fight as you will."

The sudden voice boomed around the granite walls like a ping pong ball gone wild, and Arutha grimaced for the second time that day, his eardrums aching.

"We'll see about that," Arutha said, regaining his wits.

Across the way, a great door, set into the granite, with no knob, lifted slowly like a porticullis, and out stepped a draconic man, much like a draconian, only more malevolent.

Red, with evil practically oozing out of its pores, with yellow draconic eyes, a forked tongue, and a blade that burned with black fire, Satan smiled at Arutha. This consisted of a toothy, more like fangy, malevolent look that had evil written all over it.

"Welcome Arutha Sandor, son of Saint Michael, to my domain," Satan's voice was a guttural hiss, "It's time for me to reclaim my blade, it was so nice of you to hold onto it for me."

"Now come, it's time to die."

"Not on my watch," Arutha said, drawing the oddly blue tinged Jackal, and with that, the mighty angel, son of an Arch Angel, leapt forward, on wings of strength and valor, to crush an age old enemy, and an evil older than time.

The final battle, for good, or for evil, was now joined.