~Encounters: MetalDrago Reloaded~

[Mutant_Lorenor]

(Note: This is happening in Castus Malum. OUTSIDE of The Citadel. Thank you very much. This is a "real" battle)

(I am using my level 10 profile for this battle)


Several members of The Forsaken race were gathered around Lorenor. They were his personal "elite" body guards. Though Lorenor technically did not need an escort, there were still threats in Althanas that could take him out. The High Priest needed training. Constantly training. It was night in Castus Malum and they were outside of the castle proper. Lorenor had taken a liking to the realm of eternal night and often visited to think and train. As he stood there waiting for the good Captain, the city that was built within Castus Malum was busy at all hours of the eternal night. Stepping into the canyon maze that seemed to stretch forever, the mutant moved with his escort.

Castus Malum was the perfect place to train and spar. Nightmares of all sorts lurked there, and Lorenor suspected that the walls themselves were alive. But that was not the reason the mutant had chosen Castus Malum. Growing attached the realm of darkness, the mutant sensed a deeper connection to N'Jal within this realm than he had ever known. Even deeper than The Eye of Fate itself. Lorenor wondered exactly how could that be, but he remembered what Calbrena, Pride, and their Father had told them.

Symbols lurked on the canyon walls. All around him, the mutant could detect life-patterns. After that first time that Lorenor ventured into the maze of hell's maw, the mutant slowly gathered a certain sense of direction. The High Priest felt at home within that realm of N'Jal. He could train his abilities to their fullest without holding back. After choosing a spot that was not populated by the locales, the mutant sat down upon the ground.

Without having any need for natural light, Lorenor was quite capable of sensing within the pitch-black world. So were his fellow Forsaken. There were five others with him, all quite capable of defending themselves against the nightmares that stalked. For now, The Forsaken were gathered around the camp located several yards due east from the entrance of the grand maze. Castus Malum was a huge place, ideal for training. Ideal for hunting in all its forms.

Whispers traveled through the breeze. Lorenor could hear a tormenting voice within the wind. The voice seemed to beg to the mutant, cry out to him. Lorenor attempted to ignore the sound but realized he could not. The voices were calling him home. Lorenor spread the works of The Necronomicon on a the ground before him so that his companions and he could read the text. Opening to various pages of the three books, the mutant recited the prayer passages. The Forsaken gathered around his person prayed as well giving thanks to the dark lady. And so, Lorenor would wait for the good Captain, MetalDrago Scorpio, to arrive.

There would be blood.

[MetalDrago]

MetalDrago, the Captain of the Dark Dragon Corps, had been spending his time in Castus Malum reading books and learning new things about the powers of Darkness and Evil. Though he had learned much, the more he had come across, the less he found that he knew. The further he saw, the more he could see that he had to travel to gain true understanding. However, instead of disappointing him, it drove his desire to continue learning. His eyes scanned the page before him. The words were beginning to run together into an overall theme, but parts of the big picture were not quite yet in place.

The sounds of the outside world were all blocked out, and the Dragonian didn’t hear anything around him as he continued to read. However, he could feel that one of his servants was nearby. His concentration was broken by the sound of knocking on the door to his chamber. “This had better be good,” he said to himself as his eyes flitted from the page before him to the door on the other side of the room. He had set his desk up on a side wall, where he could see the door with a mere turn of his head. He stood up, and the chair beneath him creaked with relief.

The Captain had given explicit orders that unless it was an absolute emergency, he was not to be disturbed in the middle of his research. The knock on his door meant one of two things, either there was some kind of emergency, which was unlikely, or that Lorenor, his commanding officer, had told one of the servants to find him, which was much more likely.

Drago sighed as he rubbed his eyes. Whenever Lorenor decided to have a subordinate bother him, trouble wasn’t very far behind. That was part of the exciting part of living and working with a man as psychotic as the High Priest of N’Jal. The older Dragonian’s sanity wasn’t much better, of course. He was susceptible to a powerful blood lust that could not be quenched except though battle. He was able to control it, but the bestial nature of his attacks had left many would-be opponents frightened and confused by the events that transpired when they fought him.

When the door opened, the messenger told the Paladin that the Master had need of him in the wilderness of Castus Malum. He sighed. He knew that the time had finally come for the sparring match Lorenor had promised him all those months ago. The Dragonian had been preparing for it by fighting at the Citadel time and time again, but he still wasn’t sure he could beat the man who had laid waste to him over twelve years before. This was going to be the most challenging battle of his life.

As he approached the guards stationed in front of the wilderness, they nodded at him and let him through. They knew as well as he did that to keep the mutant ghoul waiting was not a good idea. He got dangerous when forced to wait too long.

As he entered the wilderness, a powerful darkness enveloped his senses. He could feel it in every fiber of his being. This was a place of pure evil, a place where he felt at home. His bestial blood lust cried to be freed from within its confines, but the Dragonian refused the demands. The time for battle was not yet. The time for battle would be soon and oh yes, there would be blood indeed.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

When the dark began to gather in a specific way around the mutant, Lorenor understood one thing: MetalDrago has arrived. The mutant grinned in the shadows, his eyes swirling with pure energy. Crackling in the dark, the mutant's eyes swirled about, wiping around the mutant's face and casting flickering shadows about the area around him. Lorenor found the dark within Castus Malum complete. It was a haven for Spider Magi, a place that was forged by the will of The N'Jal Protocol herself. Lorenor's power gathered around him as a tremendously potent energy. The power made The Firmanent around Castus Malum shiver for a moment under its wake. Lorenor had grown much, as had his Captain.

Thinking back to the days as a Derelict Ghoul in Haidia, Lorenor could not help but smile. Discovering N'Jal had put forward a certain set of events that were equivalent to a flood-gate opening. Darkness spread all across Althanas by the agents of evil. N'Jal, worked her web of deception across the globe and manipulated events on a massive scale. War had touched Althanas. Salvar, Corone, Fallien, and Raiaera were all touched by the ravages of the war. A second age of darkness had touched the world. It was a horrible set of events not seen since The Demon Wars of antiquity. Except their current enemy was new and terrifying. Their current enemy was Lorenor's Master, N'Jal. Knowing what Lorenor knew, the mutant could have opted to be the greatest of heroes, even greater than that coward, Letho Ravenheart.

He is no hero. He escaped my wrath during the tournament, of The Cell. I managed to best that great ape. At least that was the truth in Lorenor's twisted mind. Thinking about the events of The Cell, Lorenor allowed his mind to analyze his flawed performance. He'd managed to best that kid, despite the fact that his enemy shot him. The enemy, Max Dirks, used some sort of strange device to kill the man he was destined to defeat. That was just another reason to hate the man in the white suit. Lorenor had performed well in The Cell until that bastard chef-magus, Elijah Belov, released a doomsday spell upon them all.. Lorenor had enemies now, powerful enemies. The mutant had made his presence known. When Lorenor heard that Letho Ravenheart had emerged victorious in The Cell, the mutant grew furious.

Several powerful members of The Forsaken race had to chain Lorenor down whilst he ranted and rave about the injustice of that fact. A victory for Letho Ravenheart meant that N'Jal's influence was weakened. Lorenor knew one thing, the man who was his enemy was not stupid. Just like the mutant himself, Letho Ravenheart had charismatic leadership qualities that would allow him to manipulate the masses. Lorenor's Unholy Command paled in comparison to that influence capacity. These thoughts coursed through the madman's head. Lorenor would one day best them all. Letho Ravenheart would be finished by his prevalida sword. He would make sure that next time he would do the job. Max Dirks' blood would pour on the cobblestone streets of Radasanth, and then, he would take the man in white's body and impale him on a spike. Then, there was that bastard pyromancer, Elijah Belov. The fool had bested Lorenor not once, but twice in open skirmishing tactics.

That pyromancer simply possessed a power that he could currently do nothing against. However, Lorenor had something that none of those so-called "Heroes" had. Cleverness was the mutant's forte. In his vessel, he carried The N'Jal Protocol. I carry my Matron with me. To Lorenor, the manipulations of The Thayne were his reality. Part of the game, and the playing field, Lorenor had long since found out his status as Demi-Thayne.

Currently, he lacked the power sufficient to defeat Althanas' deadliest heroes. But someday, he would have it. Though he was weak yet, the gifts of N'Jal were awakening. He would have power. Power to shake the pillars of The After itself. It was within the realm of Castus Malum that Lorenor would find the secrets and answers he sought. So he studied, he preached, he waited. If there was one gift that Lorenor had, it was that he was an exceedingly patient bastard. The mutant could plan and scheme for a lifetime's worth, and then exact his schemes under the guidance of N'Jal. The current scheme was a crucial one. After summoning his Brother in arms, the mutant waited for the approach of MetalDrago Scorpio. Once the Captain's boot falls crunched against the nearly sentient floor of Castus Malum, Lorenor's eyes turned towards him.

A moment later, the smile on his face became a grin. Two Brothers must fight in my name. During this battle, you must not hold back, you must not pull any punches. Let me gauge the power of my most trusted servants. It was the word of N'Jal. To Lorenor, and the rest of The Forsaken and Spider Magi, N'Jal's word was law. As a High Priest, Lorenor preached the word of N'Jal and his followers obeyed. By default, the mutant was the leader of The Forsaken in Mosil-Z'sarug, an Undead town near the position where former Valinatal once stood in Raiaera. Though there were elected officials there, they were merely puppet figureheads placed there by N'Jal herself. The true power was the dark clergy.

Thinking back to his dual-homeland, Lorenor considered his fiefdom in Salvar. He also considered the township of Mosil-Z'sarug. These thoughts coursed through his mind like cataracts. His dendrites were alive with neurotic activity that he analyzed with scrutiny. He'd achieved a level of super-intellect that he would never have thought possible in his half-wit days as a Derelict Ghoul in Haidia. Lorenor waved his hand, his left hand, in a grand gesture towards MetalDrago Scorpio. As always, The High Priest had The Necronomicon positioned carefully on the ground next to his legs. All three books were open to different pages, chapters, verses, and passages of their subject matter. By then, Lorenor knew the verses of The Necronomicon by heart. He could burn the books right there, and it would make no difference to him. The material was burned to his memory.

As he thought about it, he knew that there was only one reason that he did not destroy his copy of The Necronomicon. It would be an act of sacrilege. I must teach my people about the word of N'Jal. It is the only way that the influence of her dark cathedral will spread on Althanas. His eyes were locked on the eyes of MetalDrago Scorpio. The smile never left his face. As he studied the form of MetalDrago in the dark, the mutant could spot out familiar features. Somehow though, in recent times the Captain had evolved into an even more fearsome servant of N'Jal. The realization of that pleased the mutant, his Captain had grown stronger. Just as he had. Together, they were the prime leadership body of the Undead forces that had free will and were not a part of the renegade Xem'Zund's fold.

Lorenor waited for a moment or two for MetalDrago Scorpio to be seated. As that was happening, Lorenor began to speak.

"You most likely wonder why have you been summoned?" The mutant began. Lorenor turned to a different set of verses within one of the books of The Necronomicon. "You have, and always shall be my Brother." THe mutant said, hinting at the matter of the hour. "When you found me, I was weak. Nothing more than a common wretch out of Haidia. But soon, I found N'Jal, and you helped me find her. For that I shall be eternally grateful." Lorenor continued. "But tonight, N'Jal has given me a decree. The word of N'Jal is law." Lorenor said calmly. He then turned towards the guards around him. "You. Take The Necronomicon back to my personal quarters back at the castle." Lorenor commanded. Then, he turned back to MetalDrago as the books were scooped up carefully, closed, and taken back as commanded. The mutant noticed that only a few of The Forsaken remained.

"N'Jal has decreed that the two Brothers must shed blood. Their own blood, in the fires of war." Lorenor said. "We must push each other to our limits and beyond to prepare for the coming war." Lorenor stood up at that point. He continued to look at his friend. "I have already chosen a perfect spot for our duel." Lorenor said. He started to walk in the general direction of an isolated area of Castus Malum, an area that they could freely do battle without the local wildlife running too much interference. Lorenor turned part-way to look at his friend. "Walk with me my friend." He said, not as a leader, but as a friend. "There is much to discuss as we ready ourselves for the task at hand. The location of our duel is not far from here. Just a short hike." He waited for his friend to follow him so that they could walk towards the chosen site of Golgotha.

[MetalDrago]

The Dragonian Paladin looked at his brother without so much as a change in emotion as the ghoul explained to him why he had been summoned here. N’jal had decreed that they should battle, and though the Dragonian had no problem with that, the in the preternatural darkness of the Castus Malum wilderness, things often got a little out of hand. When Lorenor asked him to follow, he did so, remaining a step behind the High Priest as they hiked toward their eventual battleground. The older Paladin’s ears caught the reverberations of their footsteps as they echoed throughout the wilderness, the only sound to be heard. It was quite an unsettling sound, as if all the beasts had abandoned the area.

“You’d think after a year of serving the Lady with you, I’d be used to at least most of the strange things we go through together…” he said. His orchid colored eyes radiated a faint purple light in the darkness as he spoke. His uneasiness wasn’t unreasonable. Though this wilderness was much like any other he’d ever seen in his life, the entire place reeked of a primordial power, the likes of which hadn’t existed on Althanas in millennia. That fossil Terramat would feel right at home here… he thought, and chuckled lightly to himself.

As they continued their hike, the Dragonian could only wonder what it was Lorenor wanted to discuss with him before the battle took place. However, he refused to voice his concerns. Something told him it was better to just wait and see what was said. Though this battle would be fierce, it would also be the most fun the Dragonian had ever had in his entire life. MetalDrago gripped the hilts of two of his weapons, the Dragon’s Betrayal and the Shadow of Light, a dehlar katana and a mythril katana, respectively. One blade was as black as the darkness of the deepest shadows with a serrated blade. The other was a color reminiscent of the moon at midnight, and had a smooth, cutting edge. Together, the two blades represented the two facets of their master’s personality, cool and controlled, yet wild and bestial.

A wicked smile crossed the face of the Paladin. He was prepared for this match. He’d been waiting to fight Lorenor for quite some time, to test his strength against an obviously superior fighter. While Lorenor did have amazing regenerative capabilities and several other tricks up his sleeve, the Dragonian warrior was not without his own strengths. While he doubted that he would win in any case, he would not allow himself to go out without at least severely wounding his brother-in-arms. This was not the time for either to hold back. This was a time for each to prove, not only to N’Jal, but to themselves, that they were worthy to serve her in the war to come.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Finally, they arrived at the chosen spot of Golgotha. Traveling across a path that went exceedingly higher into a rocky growth, there was a single mangled tree at the top of the growth. A particularly flat grounds awaited the two of them as Lorenor made his way there knowing that MetalDrago Scorpio would follow. A resonance lurked at the tree, a powerful resonance. To Lorenor, the resonance was familiar. Lorenor guessed that his Captain would feel the same resonance from the tree. Upon closer inspection, one would find that the tree was composed of rotting carcasses of various creatures humanoid and not so humanoid. They were brave Adventurers, commissioned by the Lords of Castus Malum to explore its secrets. None ever returned.

Lorenor grinned at the sight of brutality and carnage. Twigs and branches were bodies that were erected and hung in various poles and other implements of death. A fell puppeteer had placed this homage to warfare and horror together much to the delight of the mutant. He looked at the tree for a long moment, and then looked at his eternal companion. In his ever maddening intellectual capacity, the mutant had learned a great deal many secrets regarding The Thayne. Both Lesser and Greater, known and unknown. These secrets were his to exploit as one of the chosen who followed the old ways.

His secrets had lead him down a path of darkness that inevitably plunged the world into a Second Age of Darkness. With the rebirth of N'Jal, Lorenor had helped conjure a page of history that would not soon be forgotten. Scholars and historians preached in dark asylums that this day would come. Their cries of insanity fell upon deaf ears. Now, N'Jal walked amongst them, and none were the Paladins of old who could stop her vengeance. The followers of the old orders would rise to stop the impending wave of darkness, but The Thayne, N'Jal's extended family, had lost their power. N'Jal had profited from the time of warfare and darkness. Her contingency plan was in place long before her extended family imprisoned her. Lorenor knew this because N'Jal knew this. Lorenor was one of N'Jal's greatest Priests that this age had ever seen...

With those thoughts in his ever corrupted mind, the mutant looked at his Captain with a soft grin on his face. The grin favored his left side creating a lop-sided expression. No longer was Lorenor simply a wretch that awoke in the caverns of Haidia so many eons ago. He was prepared for a different sort of challenge when he realized what N'Jal asked of him. Lorenor. Hear me, you must fight your Brother tonight. In my name, with all of the honour you could muster. Explain to him why you must challenge him, but challenge him you will. Lorenor remembered the words that the dark lady spoke to him. Time seemed to stand still at that moment as Lorenor eyed his long-time companion. There was no malice in his dark-purple furnaces, only a certain sense of respect.

Lorenor stood there, much shorter than his companion. Arguably, one of the shortest of heroic fellows on Althanas. Lorenor stood at a measly five feet in height, but his weight class is what made his physique so legendary. He weighed in at approximately two-hundred pounds of pure killing fury. In a long period of time, a century worth of carnage, Lorenor had carved a name for himself. This name he'd earned. His battles were scars visible upon his body despite his legendary regenerative capacity. The glow of the twin furnaces on his face cast an eerie effect upon the darkness. His skintone was black which made him like a living shadow within the darkness. Lorenor did not need to travel with the light, he was a Spider Magi. A servant of N'Jal. With everything he had given up to N'Jal, the mutant had gained tremendous power in return.

Lorenor clenched his fists and drew a specific weapon. A very specific weapon. A damascus, masterwork longsword. The weapon, purchased long ago, glowed with a tremendous power. Long ago, this weapon had saved Lorenor's life during an encounter against a renegade Monk of Ai'bron. That was the old life, this was the new. As a High Priest of N'Jal, Lorenor was a member of the dark clergy. One of the most influential members of that clergy due to his direction connection to the dark lady. The connection is what made Lorenor who he was, from balls to bones. His eyes narrowed now as he allowed the scents of death to travel all around. Lorenor listened to the cries of pain that was Castus Malum. In the heart of the wild lands, he could see for many yards in every direction. The walls constantly shifted, and there were some rooms in the wild lands he could perceive from his vantage point.

As he drew Flamethirst, its glowing power radiated from the runes that were emblazoned atop either side of the blade. Lorenor felt power resonating from the core of the blade. His weapons were ready, his will was ready, and he was ready. This...the ultimate challenge of his life would be observed by the will of the dark lady. Win or loose, Lorenor would give his companion Hell. And that thought made the grin on his face wider for he knew from experience of his companion's growing madness. This madness would compliment his own.

"This sight my dearest Brother, is a homage to the souls that our Master has claimed. Our Master has decreed that her two greatest followers must shed blood at the hands of each others' blades. This is the will of N'Jal. On this site of Golgotha, we will do battle my friend. Not as enemies, but as Brothers. Now then my Captain, show me the love you have learned to put into your blows. SHOW ME YOUR LOVE!" Lorenor cried. And in the distance, a flock of black bird-like creatures took off. Wings flapping and feathers flowing in the breeze, the very nature of Castus Malum was death and carnage. As the birds took off, larger creatures came to peck them right out of the sky and turn them into meals. It was a beautiful sight to the mutant, as he turned his attention back to MetalDrago.

"Show me the might of your Love." Lorenor commanded, and slipped into a tight combat position, with his sword positioned at about a middle center of gravity.

A battle that would shake the pillars of The After would ensue.

[MetalDrago]

The time had come. While Lorenor spoke words of brothership and love, Drago had been concentrating on his strategy for the fight to come. There would be no time to hold back. While the Dragonian had grown in power as he had continued down the path to Eternal Darkness, the mutant was still much more powerful. The two of them liked to toy with their opponents, but this was not a battle in which the older Paladin had any inclination to hold back in. His eyes locked into those of his commander as he spoke, “While it is true that the two of us are to do battle here, I see no reason to hold back, not even from the outset. So, my brother, prepare to be overcome by the very blade you are destined to forge!”

At those words, the Dragonian pulled the first weapon he’d need in this fight from its sheath. The Nocturne of Madness cried in bliss as it was unsheathed. Drago was enveloped in a pure black aura. His eyes went from a somber orchid to a startling blue-white as he smiled. It was a smile of pure bloodlust, a smile that could paralyze any normal man with fear. While it was true that he loved and respected his brother, there was no force on Althanas that could control his bloodlust while this sword was in his hands.

The Dragonian Paladin launched himself forward at his brother and laughed. While there was little hope that he could actually win, he was intent on gaining as much pleasure from this fight as he possibly could. He swung his blade with reckless abandon as he pushed himself forward, intent on slicing Lorenor wide open with a single attack.

As his blade swam forward through the dark ether, his soul rejoiced that he had an opponent he knew he wouldn’t have to hold back against. This was only the beginning for them. This battle of brothers would reign onward, and they would revel in blood and darkness, each one intent upon the other. For in this battle, the Will of N’Jal was supreme, and within each of them her Will existed.

For in this battle, no matter the victor, darkness would reign.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

The time for pretty words and speeches was over. Arrived, the chosen hour was now upon the siblings of darkness. Lorenor grinned as he watched his captain approaching, he drew his own sword, a damascus masterwork weapon, Flamethirst and prepared himself for what was coming. A weapon purchased through the black market long ago, Lorenor rarely had a chance to test it's power.

Standing carefully, the man stood at an angle facing towards the incoming opponent. His stance favored the right side of his body, whilst he held his sword with his left hand away from MetalDrago. The tactic was carefully employed to make full use of his surroundings. A wind came in from the east that made his cloak whip about with it's presence. Lorenor always did favor wearing the hide-cloaks manufactured from Salvar.

For Lorenor's speed and reflex capacity, MetalDrago's movements were quick, but not nearly quick enough. He counted off the seconds when MetalDrago Scorpio would reach the exact position he needed his opponent to be at. He saw that his captain ran recklessly forward and admired his friend's bravery. His foe's single attack had key arches of movement, and this was the information that Lorenor needed. When the attacks started to get closer and closer, Lorenor reopened his eyes and waited to the last possible moment to act. Lorenor saw the blade with it's glowing halo coming closer and closer.

When the blade was about to finally land a hit, Lorenor stood in place and locked his legs tightly. Used to dealing with extreme amounts of pain, Lorenor stared at his opponent with that eternal grin on his face. When the attack finally did come, Lorenor moved at best speed and reflex capacity, his purpose was revealed. He raised his right arm quickly, sleeve from his priestly robes sliding down, and revealed his infamous Aegis Bracer. The movement was swift and concise and he intercepted the incoming attack. Connecting with the blade, his Aegis Bracer burst in a spark of brilliant explosive energy.

A burst of energy burst out from the impact point. Lorenor's massive gauntlet, The Aegis Bracer, was currently composed of masterwork plynt. With the strength of his foe's sword, Lorenor felt the impact and it brought him great pleasure. As a sadomasochist, Lorenor felt tremendous pleasure in both giving and receiving pain. With pain jolting from The Aegis Bracer all the way down to his lower back, Lorenor reacted. Now they were in extreme close combat range, and that was the place Lorenor loved to be in the most. Whilst Scorpio's blade attempted to tear through The Aegis Bracer, Lorenor swung towards the middle center of gravity of his opponent. Utilizing his left arm in the swing, Lorenor aimed for his opponent's hip. He was attempting to sever MetalDrago into two clean pieces. However, any hit would do.