[F21-SP] The Thunder Rolls....

[Raidou 1]

Standing in the center of the chamber as a legion mounted against him, he could not help but draw the comparison to the front lines preparing for a conflict. Opening his screen from beneath his given armor, checking his own stats to check durations everything was still holding strong with hours left. A exhale that comes out modulated like a breath from a creature in a long hiss, he twists the black star in his clutches as lines began to form bonds to those in the chamber. It was lunacy that they would continue. Sense was not present and nothing more than animals surrounded him. Had they no reason, no tact or sense of fear. The burning trail as the swordsman's head pivots with them surrounding him. Juiblex opens a doorway to which he removes his glasses, and the white mask from before finds his skin. It was cold porcelain, on it was a slight grin in red like a jester. Suctioning to his brow, the cardinal helping keep it in place as the familiar consumes it.

The Red Wanderer | HP:1745/1745 | EN:158/158 | DMG:18 | MIT:121 | EVA:4 | ACC:3 | TAUNT | BH:87

Spoiler

Raidou, The Red Wanderer
Level: 79
HP: 1745/1745
EN: 158/158

Stats:
Damage: 18
Mitigation: 121
Evasion: 4
Accuracy: 3
BH:87
TAUNT

Equipped Gear:
Weapon: Auric Sol - Corona [T3/Perfect/2HSS]: Damage 3
Armor: Red Wanderer's Robe [T1/Perfect/L.A] +3 Evasion
Misc: Commander's Scrutiny - Duress [T1/Perfect/Trinket]: +2 Accuracy, Taunt

Skills:
Gatherer [Obtained]
Two Handed Straight Sword [Rank 5]
Extended Mod Limit R3 [Obtained]
Parry [Obtained]
Howl [Obtained]
Battle Healing [Rank 5]
Fighting Spirit [Obtained]
Light Armor [Rank 5]
Searching [Rank 5]
Charge [Rank 5]

Extra Skills:
Concentration
Familiar Mastery: Protector
Survival

Mods:
Vengeful Riposte
Focused Howl
Finesse Rank 3
Athletics
Sprint and Acrobatics
Emergency Recovery
Detect
Tracking

Battle Ready Inventory:
Teleport Crystal*1
Mass Heal Crystal*5
Pillar Fragment [Unique/Nightvision Mod]

Housing Buffs:
Hard Working: +2 EXP per crafting attempt and +1 crafting attempt per day
Filling: Increase the effectiveness of a single food item consumed in a thread by +1 T1 slot.
Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts.
Col Stash: +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests
Advanced Training: +2 SP to a thread. Limit one use per month [0/1]

Guild Hall Buffs:
Lucrative: Reduce LD needed for Salvage by 5 (10+ for Alchemist crystals, 6+ for everything else). +2 EXP per craft. Rank 9 crafters receive +1 crafting attempt per day. Rank 10 crafters receive +2 crafting attempts per day.
Col Deposit: +5% bonus col from last-hit monster kills and +10% bonus col from treasure chests.

Scents of the Wild:
Tanos Statue: +15 Mitigation for a thread.

 

[Raidou 1]

The roles now adequately reversed as his stance shifted and slid open wide, firmly planted beneath his shoulders with darkened living armor. It would not be long before the game would start, this foolish game would force his hand with players too stupid to understand what they were doing. He'd many bright and promising lower levels, some higher riddled with issues that came with being at the heart of things. These were somewhere between, the humanity struck from them through ill-gotten means but their grief was all their own.

A myriad of faces, male and female to rise against him with those damn brands they wore proudly. It wasn't a mistake but a symbol of pride. The wanderer began to question how long that sentiment would last...

Whining steel as multiple colors littered the horizon as he grits his teeth, the die was cast and the first to claim it remained an enigma. A rip of his blade a trail of crimson and a flair of the tethers between the advancing army. Cutting and clipping deep into the writhing mass of droves of players scattering into the field, aiming for his blood in earnest. Raidou cuts one deep causing him to scatter off to one side and nail into one of the decayed stone pillars.

Being buried under blows as each connects with his steel in a careful slide back to keep them centered in front of him lest he be flanked. The next a female in hair of gold gets a new necktie in liquid, latching to her throat and driving her skull into the floor below. A Warhammer clatters to the ground as Juiblex latches onto his ankle, Lennon is vaulted airborne and sustains fall damage. A blade cleaves some of the gunk from Raidou's face, underneath a nice size gash as his jaw is exposed. "You'll pay for that. A repentance paid that you do singe yourself" a dark tone as a cable latches to Stur's mouth and begins to squeeze.

Edited October 20, 2020 by Raidou

[Raidou 1]

Stur still trapped within the wanderer's cord uses his weapon to cut it free and collapses to the floor below. Laying upon the ground as he struggles to stabilize his breath as it was stuck within his suffocation. It was harsh and reeling as he inhaled sharply with a cough, unable to pick up his weapon. Cehre was not so lucky as she gagged with the string becoming tighter and tighter like a vice. Her eyes becoming more desperate as each breath became more difficult than the last. Her legs kicking out from beneath her as she fought against her own closing fate.

The ground does damage as The Wanderer lunges forward and plants the hatred fueled blade within Lennon's chest as he begins to rise from being thrown. "Have you purchased that which you have wrought!?" he lets out in a sinister tongue. A deep breath as his own lifeforce is regained. Particles in red enter his gullet with the inhale and with it his bar jumps back up. "You're a monster!" the player speaks weakly into his own demise. A twist of the wanderer's head like a puppy confused "AM I?" spoken as he slams him against the crumbling debris.

"I see that marker of yours. What did you do to earn it, why are you here now?" he asked quizzically with a dark embrace. A sudden jerk in a violent crushing jerk in multiple repeats. "WHAT MISTAKE HAVE YOU MADE?" screamed in a feral roar as that which was dwindling the drain grew to understand fear. The players littering the chamber began to pause through the carnage alone, aiming instead for the arm holding the blade instead of his head but with a spray of black like a detonation they cannot reach Lennon and his inability to answer.

Edited October 20, 2020 by Raidou

[Raidou 1]

There was a stink of defeat that lingered from the orange player and with it silence. The male looks up with his grayed hair, green eyes staring seemingly into Raidou's soul through the burning fire like streams. "Fuck you..." he mutters out as his arms become weak. Twisted grin forms upon the wanderer's worn mask, serrated teeth begin to poke out of the mass. "That which you have taken...Will be taken from you." A vile murmur with a pair of voices and with it a snap and a myriad of gasps in astonishment. A pop of red allows his weapon to fall free, spun up in his grasp.

Stur begins to fight back but it was unclear if it was for revenge or a creeping sense of dread, A single strand becomes jagged like a spear as it appears to be eyeing him. It lances through his right shoulder, as he looks down at Cehre the blonde. She had become still presumably unconscious. As he walks toward the still waiting players eager to join them as a snap causes the female to vanish. Another one down...

Of the first to attack were the first to fall, Saren the one that struck him. Fueled by an act of courage that the others seemed to lack, leaped in and tried for his chest. A mouth forms as he leaps into the belly of the beast, before a full-grown head lunges outward and snaps onto his weapon and arm. A metallic cleave offers a spray-in red as his own rolls upon the white blanket.

A deep inhale adds the vitality back to the red wanderer, resetting all that they had done with a simple act of breathing.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Stur Saren Lennon Cehre

Edited October 20, 2020 by Raidou

[Raidou 1]

Pushing through the network of vines in ink was another group of these ignorant whelps, pressing on to the cliff at which they'd leap. A female with flaming red hair and a spirit to match was the first. A blue art ripped through the barrier and collides with The wanderer's steel in a shower of sparks before her wrist is grabbed, overhead and down her back collides. Seconds later a blade implanted through her chest and is plucked clean, a pivot collides with the next two to glean through.

"Hmph, determined aren't you." spoken in a reflection of the owner of this chamber, but unlike such, he'd not underestimate even a single soldier. Dropping low and grabbing a heel with the edge of his blade, his body breaks clear the other side in a crash. A film of soot obscures where he impacted, him making it a few steps before collapsing. Now staring down the remaining pair, he could see the regret.

The remorse

     The reluctance

"Don't tell me you came all this way, to give in now. Where was that determination, that lust, that want for my head? Will you finally understand?" The words flowed quick and aggressive like the maniacal rantings of a mad man. A sudden cleave and a spray in red in a wide crimson arc with no give away it was coming. "That you've made a grave mistake, one foot in... How fast will you leap?"

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Micha Bear

[Raidou 1]

Like needles from his form, ghastly and grim a man at his wits end trapped in his own anger. A time to leave a teleport crystal, a mistake. Now he was looking upon an army that wanted his hide. A seething fire burned brightly in his chest, wishing that before long they would retreat. But he was losing himself, drunk on his unleashed capability. At the very least, a silent pleasure in dealing with this problem now before it was worse later.

These were traitors

     No longer men but animals

Remorse had no place here, and as three quickly fell to two. Two one. And to nothing. Blade finds purchase through a blonde male, then torn off to one side. A spray in red that cleaves him in two, Sprint triggering and carrying with it his upper half. It shatters leaving a clattering dagger in its wake, before an arm of the next. Clutching through wide dilated eye, the brunette with a bright red bandana. Now disarmed.

With fear, a girl with blue hair decks The red wanderer's shape, a flaming green fist that becomes trapped in his molasses like skin. It sucks her in closer, cables running her through and tearing her asunder. It was gruesome, the amber army didn't know how to respond. Some had taken a step back before others would chastise them. "Its just one guy!"

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Drandoor Guvil  Nachi

[Raidou 1]

A feisty woman with a jaded purple lock, with an accent in red taking line on one side. All of these feigned people that like to pretend, like they were still human. The wanderer found it sickening, unfit that these things could live where others had fallen. It was as if the stroke that removed them, was from these...creatures. She barks some loose language to the others, some sort of leader among them, before rushing at him with a pole arm. A single slice twists her around, and a kindled hand runs through her stomach. A scream, her beloved from the look of it.

Rushing with a lack of care, regrets stunk on him like a perfume. A mistake, he learned too late. A single swipe at the wanderer is caught in his web, drug in as he jerks and rampages helplessly. "For nothing, a life taken. A fire burned out too early, a glimmer gone and a lantern sank. How many more will suffer?" slithered out of his maw, it came across rough and condemning.

"w-Why?"

"Why?"

"Why US!?"

Intrigued a question brought forth as if there was something to teach, a paraded miasma draws the light from his eyes for all but the wanderer. "Why them? Why are you here? If you cannot answer. You had every chance, and you made the wrong one. I will do you a service." releasing the woman still clinging to her last, Juiblex already consuming what was left. "I can take away the pain. So simple. It's more than I expect you've ever offered." The attack that comes after shakes the chamber.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Bigron Chia

[Raidou 1]

A commander among them, a large male with a heavy looking battle axe. While the rest seem to suffer on morale he does not, having slain multiple without a care when they would not fold and give in what was desired. Instead of their coin a life taken, to which a comparison could not be drawn. Material worth was a small pittance in comparison to life, but this group of bestial bipods it was acceptable to make that trade.

Drawing the massive cleaver, off to one side as it trickles in an amber hue. His intentions clear. The wanderer flips his grip and extends his left arm, his glare ablaze with an unwavering and cardinal tempered spirit. A sharp inhale in distortion and a soft exhale the same. A rush forward with all the damage he could muster, Ardun went for blood with his guillotine. It connects but with the wanderer's steel. The resulting crash blinds them both, as the player killer is driven into the ground. A riposte.

The black sludge that composed his frame crunches and latches the floor beneath him. It produces as spring as it forces him upward, a tinge of static akin the king at which chamber he stood. Driven through the player's abdomen with a paralyzing scream, every fiber of his muscles ripping against him. Within an instant, he was gone.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Ardun

 

[Raidou 1]

Pure pain in this maelstrom of fear and torment, emotions on a high rise as they watched their numbers be quickly reduced by over a quarter. The red wanderer swelled with power, and Juiblex on his form was holding tight. A network web as he shifts forward, folding at the stomach and hunching his back. The strangely hued blade in his right hand connects with the fog beneath his feet with a clatter. Held limply, he twists his upper torso slightly, a goading motion back and forth as he sized up the opposition like an animal.

His senses were on overdrive, his focus as intense as it was primal. Burning coals bled trails of crimson with every shift, escaping like vapor off his eyes. Beneath a slimy and almost wet, blackened skin, that seemed to morph and twist with every subtle movement. "Drop this, save yourself the heartache. The horrors. You must all see this as foolish?" The inquiry came out in a hiss, a volatile bubbling. The mists within FTK's chamber continued to stir, as the Red wanderer began to pace, waiting for that next onslaught, that next failed misstep. Clattering of armor begins to ring out as the sounds of unsheathing blades began again. If they did not care to listen, to think, then all they did was prove him right.

A network of barbs, spring from his shoulders like spears. With little opposition, batting away a blade with little to no strength behind it. It rattles to the floor, spinning and grinding to a halt.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Foben Senri Alrathi Fusei Hali

[Raidou 1]

Waves of fog start to swell and create a fitting nursing in darker ambiance, as it would mirror the boss that resided in this chamber on the regular. The storm becomes fickle with traces of aggressive red that would overtake the normal white, and as hostiles a plenty would rush headlong into it they would see their strengths sapped. Bars become visible as the ticks of damage would see them slowly begin to recede, chunks waddling away in dangerous portions as they foolishly ran lambs to the slaughter into it. An inhale in an inhuman tone, what little damage bred upon him was torn back easily back to full. The red wanderer in full glory, a horrifying visage that did not convey player in the slightest. Instead, it would provide only the jagged teeth of black that seemed almost inconsistent in their shifting patterns. A nightmare made real as more of their forces are driven to an early extinction.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Nei Zummo Seslarlad Tenne Gecrar

 

[Raidou 1]

The chain detonations would send a stir of discourse across the nigh endless forces of players eager to be the one to break a hole in that armor. Yet it stood strong against them all, proving even still that none of them could hold a candle. The ill omen in red transformed into a darker writhing mass of black and decay would siphon the life from all within proximity, the faint red trails of life being drawn into it like a nexus. Kill after kill, the system would screech in return with shattering fractures of light that would exit that film. The monument of life was ablaze as names would burn in a bright orange on its surface like a brand, being seared forever into that slab of lead as a grim reminder of folly and belief. Some of them start to find their hearts beginning to wane, indecisive if their assault should continue.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Tervas Bhasson Murth Gronnun Finda

 

[Raidou 1]

A beckoned word from the entrance of the chamber would ring out, the nomad deaf to the words spoken in his violent and raged fueled frenzy. A dark hand with an arm far too long would spring forth and clutch firmly upon a brunettes face moments after she swings a polearm. The force alone carries her some distance before she is slammed head first into that rock floor. A twist sees that thing coil like a serpent with a jaw locked to prey, dragging the limp body across like a battering ram in a wide horizontal sweep. The ground itself being carved a groove, the woman's near lifeless body being cast into her own allies. *Pop, Pop, Pop* the constant droning of system acknowledgement as more and more of these foes were reduced to ash, and with it lives were ending as Nervegear surely made good on its lethal promise.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Jeshar Butsk Zuhke Ethera Ohrel

 

[Raidou 1]

What felt almost endless proved that the ill omen in red was more then capable of dealing with the endurance test. Anything that he'd spend would be immediately recouped as he'd harvest the life and energy of his opposition on each lethal blow. With nearly a third of their forces cut down without even the semblance of exhaustion from the faceless lord, their courage faltered under the weight of his resolve. They were free to try and escape, but the fact of the matter was the moment they chose to stand here they would never escape. Decisions were made and made final, for there was no going back. A inky black mass of hatred and malice honed to a wild and untamed weapon that continued its tirade against that orange army as if it was made of paper mache. As another 5 names would find themselves seared to the wall in an instant, the wanderer would seek the head beneath the crowd.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Bitok Terrah Jhori Hadgar Dienriez

 

[Raidou 1]

That striking streak of vibrant pink stood out at the back of the room, causing the wanderer to begin to carve a path through those forces. A serpent would only survive with its head, and this battalion was no different. With bodies being cut down like wheat in a field, they'd wilt to the ground as they are sliced almost fully in twain. An endless wave of moronic self over evaluation, eager to throw their lives away for the bittersweet taste of selfishness. Those little bars of their flicker as it would drain, from green to orange and to red. The miasma drains what little they have left, as the man moves with a lethal intention straight to its source. Carving and throwing carcasses into one another, as a wave of drones tried to protect its queen. A pathetic attempt as their number meant so very little, as a bunch of untrained misbegotten soldiers.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist: Dukha Falmot Dihinral Naz Haom

 

[Raidou 1]

A final push with renewed vigor and tenacity, as if something within him found itself fueled by an unseen pyre. Rosaria would lock eyes with the creature seeing that floating red marker who had taken on the personification of death, staring into the eyes of vengeance with a taste to repay for her inelegant betrayal. On her brow, what would fall away is her boastful self importance. Her arrogance as she knew what this would mean. Time and time again there were always attempted uprisings, cloak and dagger operations and claims against the mans life. But no matter how many occurred, how many attempts to usurp his cast iron and ruthless reign would fall to cinders. She knew that look, it tasted of sorrow. Of fear.

Clambering for her bag, fighting with her HUD, hands beginning to shake in a frenetic display of missing buttons and clicking the wrong things. A feral howl scorches the souls of her human barricades causing a widespread panic. A singular blade shears through clean, punching through a ribcage of the first at its front causing them to crack and shattering a spray of blue glass. A scream cut short in an instant. The woman manages to get her inventory open, as her own men and women tried to keep the creature they'd provoked at bay. Another, finds its head engulfed in a writhing mass of black that immediately constricts into a gut churning *snap*. As simple as breaking a branch off a tree, causing the orange haired fellow to crumple to the floor in a hot mess that was once a person. A head flies over the top as its removed from a set of shoulders, a string of bladed claws slide without resistance through three, sending them airborne in a jerk that sees them crash into the ceiling and become motionless. A nightmare made real, as the soldiers at the back looked to their mistress for guidance or support, their commander with horror plastered across their faces. Pleading, sniveling messes of unprepared masses. Their strength was no more, their courage had been broken. As waves of red fog matched with a horrific animal howl in two tones that turned their very soul yellow.

The monument of life would become a representation of dreams turned nightmare, as name after name was burned forever upon its surface like tombstones that would stand immortalized forever in ever increasing succession. Bodies and blood, true life's taken for what most would consider something that could be pardoned. What was killing one player? What was stealing from them? Extorting them? Most would allow it. Save one, and it was acting as both Judge and Executioner to their crimes. Humanity was a choice, not a right and they had chosen to forfeit it for selfish self service. A mistake that would cost them everything they had stolen, everything they had made. Others had the right to live, they did not. Rosaria manages to escape with her own life, leaving all within her service to rot forever in a tomb she'd made for them.

With a flash of blue light and an excessive amount of lives ended, the Ill Omen in Red confirmed forever this irrefutable law. That which you take, can be taken from you.

Scratching themselves into the monument as life ceases to exist:
Larvidru	Usud	Vavrag	Tazussu	Chio
Keshefra	Brogran	Vunsken	Mibrez	Mullem
Nosi	Kir	Lethahr	Hali	Elsai
Sheimi	Horhi	Kein	Ished	Tathreh
Cesuh	Tendod	Jusqarnin	Rihror	Kevray
Jianta	Dhimmu	Ahergo	Volar	Hidru
Solrei	Miay	Sazul	Neshid	Brivorn
Rhehm	Grentu	Shulrei	Norkarn	Melga
Ferah	Sildeas	Stobril	Shivov	Segra
Streld	Khanar	Histro	Velvam	Ninure
Gineldi	Eva	Bei	Zekel	Mervevla
Liflil	Drirda	Stidre	Avascar

 

 

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Thread Closure:
Raidou | [Word Count: 5898/5 = 1179.6] * [True Tier: 8] * [Group Factor: 1]* [Final Exp Modifier: 1] = 9437 EXP, Laurel Wreath: 1415 col