[Didos]

For a long time nothing had been heard coming from the Lich King, since the clash that such had against the Supreme of the Twilight Coven - because for months now, he's been recovering and preparing within his great floating fortress... For what? For something that would shock the world again.
  
A ritual that combines his mastery of riftmancy and necromancy to tear through the fabric of reality once more.

 

1x Third Eye of Marius
 

1x Atl Spirit Binding

 

1x Dream Within A Dream

 

And the unfiltered hatred towards those that took his beloved from him..

 

For almost years now, the Stronghold Mort Donjon, flew over the ruins of the city that was Achyon - and finally the unholy light had been lit in its halls, expanding to all sides.. For then the figure of the Vanreth himself emerged from its gates.

 

"Their helspawn, Leonid, that brat... He keeps avoiding me, he fears for his mortality - and this have been a setback for much time. I'm tired of waiting, it is time to take what belongs to me, by my own means."

 

 

"They took her from me.. Now is time for the rerturn.. For me to take her from their hands..
 
Even if this means going to war against Hecate herself!"

   

A Battle between the dead.. Friday 3PM EST.

[Nerdlord57]

"Even if this means going to war with Hecate herself!"

Bold words, from a being who thought himself invincible in the world above. Yet in the worlds below, deep in the darkest reassess of the Spirit Realms. Such words caused a cacophonous series of monstrous gaggles, howls, and laughs to escape many of the Nethradin and Hel Beasts that held enough sanity to understand such a proclamation. These amasses monstrosities of Hecate's Domain were those of the Menagerie.

Dimitri Asimov's Menagerie, made and assembled as the Shock Troupe of the Marquis' armies. Their purpose to decimate and tear apart defensive lines to allow invasions to go far smoothly.

The desire for mortal blood and flesh filled the air in a palpable and vile miasma as the assembled beasts and monsters of Hel awaited the swift response of the Marquis.

Finally, emerging from a balcony from Hecate's resplendent fortress would be a familiar being, wearing the façade of the figure he once wore in life. His shadow revealed the truth, being that of a large Daemonic form, horned and wicked. An eerily enchanting violin melody appeared to always follow in his wake, causing the carved runes that were present on every member of the Menagerie to shimmer with his black magics.

"So he wishes for War, does he? Well, the Marquis is willing to reward such foolishness.

When his magics pull upon Her realm, I demand the fiercest and more gluttonous of you to push through whatever portal the Lich summons forth.

There will be no mercy for him, or for the world above. Wreak as much havoc and destruction in our Lady's name as you cane and EAT. YOUR. FILL.

The Lich? Is mine. He comes for my wife for whatever reason-

and I shall make him kneel to the Marquis.~"

[Seraphite]

And yet, in the middle, one factor remains.

Her husband, of course, has been busy. It makes sense, all things considered; a declaration of war is serious, one of the most malintent things that a mortal could dare to try and do. Even if the lich was only barely one of them now, it was still brazen. And, of course - it'd involved her. Getting her back. Getting her soul. Returning her to him, if what the whispers she had heard from the garden were true.

She can't remember who he's meant to be. Is he somebody that she knew?

And why wouldn't its words be true? After all, it wasn't quite physically talking to her.

A fruit, bore from a tree, is grasped in Hina's hands. That's her name, right? Yes. Yes, it is, even if she does not remember what it once meant. It glows with hellish energy; listening closely could almost reveal the screaming of another victim of the Meadow, of its tricks. It was their fault, really, for not listening. For not observing. For not treating it with the respect that it deserved. Wasn't it? She was, after all, the Caretaker. It was her job to know the beast she was dealing with, how it writhed just underneath desecrated soil, how it fed upon those weak enough to fall for it.

What was there really to do but wait?

"I do wonder - will Dimitri ask me to come with him, do you think? Or will I be sucked from here, bit by bit, up to the surface nonetheless?"

The question is mused to the mewling foodstuff, its form long turned into a husk of what it once was - and yet, allowed to grow once more. After all, they always came back, again and again and again and again and again. Who was she to stop them? She might have stopped them, in another life. A bite is taken into something that could have been called an apple, or an orange, or something else she can't remember the name of. 

Ichor gushes down, falling upon a dress woven of the very plants the Nethradin had long learned to embrace. Its weave shifts and swirls as if to absorb the remainder, evoking a giggle from the woman, along with an adjustment of her porcelain half-mask to be just out of the way.

There were no words that she could say that would take him off his chosen path.

"Please, do remain calm. It isn't as if you're starving, after all - no no, I don't think you're doing that.

Ah, the Menagerie versus the hordes of undead, versus those that wish to stop it. It almost makes you wonder if they'll pull it off.

And yet, despite what he's bringing, he's insistent upon fighting the Lich alone.

I don't get it.

Why wouldn't he want the company of something he's nurtured to such strength?

It'd be like if I didn't take a piece of you wherever I went, wouldn't it?"

She twirls for a moment in her dress, despite being alone. Purple petals fall, flowers growing where they once fell; seeds, of course, of the prettiest parasite she had ever seen. It was also, of course, the only parasite she had ever properly seen. It was unlikely that they'd properly seed on the surface, but in an area of enough despair and suffering, who knew?

That giggling continues with it - a high pitched laugh evokes up, a grin making its way to her face before settling down once more, lucidity passing over her once more. For a moment, that mask is 'removed'; faded away with remnants of what she thinks used to be illusion magic.

"..."

"Our potential is wasted here, I swear."

Oh, how joyous - and how painful - it would be to return, even for a single day.

[KING]

Screams of the damned echo throughout Hel. An unquenchable thirst and an insatiable hunger was felt through most of Hecate's domain. It had been years since a mortal had stepped into Hel, and even longer since they did so with hostile intent. Beasts would be unchained, let loose against the incoming stampede of undead abominations. Among them all came a single figure.


"Who has interrupted my dance?"

From the ballroom of Hecate's estate came a monster. A demon that has been twisted and corrupted to the point where he is no longer the same man who walked on the mortal plane. His visage appeared more as the monsters he fought in life than the demons he fought beside in death. An embodiment of fear and the horrifying monstrosities of Hel. Slowly the shadows would be cast way to reveal a man who had struck the hearts of many of Nidaz' allies. A devilish cackle would follow in his wake.


"Oh? Family? I can always make time for family."

Hecate's Shadow would emerge in full form.

The Shadow of the Ebon Guard would command his forces.

The Marquis' Champion would join the Fiddler's side...

Engaging any invading armies in a deadly waltz.




"Surprise! I'm back."

[Didos]

The world would shudder, as the fabric of reality was torn apart.. From the depths of Helheim, Nethradin and other creatures would emerge - where combat would take place.

  

In the end the Eternal would emerge victorious, banishing such creatures back to the deep - but not before conflict had arisen among the Family! But such which would be solved..

 

In the end everyone was seen departing through a rift and in his hand the Lich carried his Prize.. The Soul Stone, of Hina Vanreth.

 

"And now.. Preparations will be made, so that I can ensure that nothing will set us apart.
 
Never.. Ever.. Again."

 

Still, something of such a scale would not be forgotten so quickly, where clearly the effects of such actions would still have place in those lands. Where it was hard to tell if something had escaped or not - the rifts..

 

But not that it mattered to the Lich, since this one had what he wanted..