| There are many labels for the champions of this world, titles bestowed by society as a whole, if not by the system, bestowed upon us by the gods. Titles are things that augment a person’s class and are gained by performing spectacular feats that are far above the norm. A wizard is the base class of wizard that can further specialize into many other advanced classes after significant progression. An Arch-Wizard, however, is a wizard who has gained a bestowed title from the system and, because of his capabilities, has reached high and far beyond the norm of his peers. Witch-Hunter, Grand-Crusader, Legendary Swordsman are all examples from recently documented history, some being ‘common’ enough to be found once or twice for every million people. Title bestown individuals are amongst the most powerful in the world, raging past noble-born and those who we suspect to carry trace inkling of divine blood, washed out through generations of mixed breeding. Felling a great beast, destroying an insurmountable evil, accomplishing a great thing that none have ever managed before — even if the ‘achievement’ system of previous generations is no longer a part of our world, these acts are still rewarded through this side-system. We do not know where the rules for this begin and end, we do not know when the system decides to give someone such a boon and for what reasons, but we know that it happens. The most societally familiar and popular title is that of ‘Dragonslayer,’ given only to a person who has fought and bested one of the world’s ancient dragons and not just any whelp from a dungeon. People with multiple titles are able to choose between them within the system, although this change is only cosmetic in an individual’s menu screens. |
~ The Mighty Amongst Us, Of Champions, the Elite and the Powerful
| ~ [Seide] ~ |
| Dryad, Female, Wood-mother |
| Location: The Tower, Roost |
“Are you alright?” asks Isaiah, looking down at the dryad, Seide, whom it is holding. She slowly opens her eyes, looking at it in a dazed confusion for a moment, before her gaze turns around to look at the roost of the tower, where hundreds of people are returning, having died and been reborn through the ‘Mercy’ ability.
…Died?
Seide jolts together, her body shaking from the fresh pain of disintegration as she grabs hold of Isaiah. “Isaiah!” exclaims the Dryad, her eyes going wide in the darkness that covers the world. “I messed up, I’m sorry,” she says, lowering her head. “I didn’t pay attention, and I- He…” She lifts her gaze. “I’m really s-!”
Isaiah tilts its head, looking at her calmly. She cut her own sentence off as she looked back up at its expression, which signals not much of a bother towards anything, despite her critical failure in her very first test for which she has had so much time to prepare.
It turns its head, looking to the side as a gust comes over them. The people around them stir, rising from their slumber of death as well. “The wind is pleasant tonight,” it explains, as a warm gust rises over the tower, unusually out of place for this great height.
It sets her down.
“Do not fret, Seide,” says Isaiah. “The tower is long still and I find it very interesting, honestly,” it explains.
“What?” she asks, standing on her hooves and straightening her back.
“The brightness of souls,” explains the entity, closing its eyes. “Even through the corruption of the witch-rot, light shines through the cracks from within,” says Isaiah. “She has brought so many interesting souls to me,” it says, opening one eye to look at her for a moment before then closing it again.
Seide watches it, standing there in silence for a time, before turning her head and feeling the wind moving through her hair.
It really is warm tonight.
| ~ [Aurin, The Meek] ~ |
| Human, Male, Crusader {Legendary Swordsman} |
| Location: The Sub-Tower, Floor -99 |
| ~ [Dungeon] ~ |
| Floor {-99} (Diligence) |
| The Eternal Battleground |
| Floor -99 of the sub-tower of Isaiah A grand chamber, filled with cream colored marble pillars, each as large as a castle. Countless waves of the dead spirits, lost to the tower, fill the great emptiness of the space, howling for a chance to fight once more beneath the banner of the Valkyrie. |
| Room Effect: When activated, diverts all UNDEAD from the exterior graveyard and utilizes them as combatants for this floor. The stronger the [Graveyard] the stronger this floor will become. |
| ~ [Valkyrie]~ | |
| Class: DIVINE BEING | Element: HOLY |
| Type: HARBINGER | Category: ZEAL |
| Rank: SSS | |
| Level: 100 | |
| A Valkyrie.
The angels of the battlefield, Valkyries are warrior spirits who choose the worthy dead to fight on the eternal battlegrounds of the afterlife. Valkyrie are large, vaguely hominid, entities with partially translucent bodies and feathered wings. They wear heavy plate armor with obscuring features. They wield any number of conventional weapons but seem to prefer spears or combinations of a short-sword and a large shield. The number of wings a Valkyrie has, up to sixteen, signifies its level of power. | |
| - [Two Wings] - | |
| [Neugard]: For every {10} enemy combatants slain during the encounter, resurrects a worthy {01} soul as a powerful warrior of the faith of Isaiah | |
| [Jagdmeid]: The valkyrie is a close combatant and will engage in honorable combat with one foe at a time. However, she is a creature of purpose and will intensely follow her core work — the resurrection of the dead. For every {30} seconds she is in a single fight, the number of undead raised by [Neugard] will be increased by 25% (Min. +1) | |
| [Hohenheim]: Passively regenerates HP based on the height of the Valkyrie. | |
| HP: 927/999 | SOUL: ∞/∞ |
— The heavy blade cracks down against the stones, sending a tear through the rocks from the weight of the weapon as he heaves, his breast, hunched over, lurching, as vapors leave his mouth.
Thousands of men roar as they rush past him on both sides, his presence standing there, interrupting their stampede like a tide-break on the ocean. They flow around him and her, leaving a hole in the swarm of bodies that moves forward.
Aurin lifts his gaze, looking at the entity, a hand covering one slot of his visor to stop it from shaking, due to the quake caused by the thundering of so many boots.
He looks at the entity he’s fighting, bright and -
— Dark. It’s a dark creature. Wretched. Wicked. The armored woman’s features contort, warp, and change; her wings turn black; her face falls hollow, revealing the truth of the corruption in her foul eyes. Thousands of undead swarm around her, crawling like parasites and fleeing from an overabundant, overpopulated host.
His brothers are fighting them.
He has to kill her.
Aurin readies himself. They can’t waste the members of the grand crusade yet. He has to do the legwork. That’s why he’s here.
The rotting undead readies its lance, its putrid wings rising into the air as he arcs his sword back, pressing forward with his boot. The creature, locked in its feral obsession with him, launches forward to meet him in the middle.
| ~ [Isaiah] ~ |
Isaiah reopens its eyes.
The crusade is making faster progress than expected, but these floors to come will keep them busy for a time. They might be the lowest floors of the tower, but they were still made when Isaiah was at his strongest. They are designed in accordance.
| New Area |
| ~ [Dungeon] ~ |
| Floor {160} |
| The Scales of the Old Gods |
| A forgotten corner of the spirit world, once used by the old gods who were worshiped in days now long forgotten. A person’s soul will be weighed against a feather. If they are found lacking, a critical boss encounter must be surmounted. |
It looks at the window. Good. The tower continues to grow. People still continue to pray and holler its name into the night, as they should. There is ample time yet for the bridge to be completed, even if the crusade makes progress.
It won’t be long now. The ascension is almost complete. The final core is ticking down and the heavens draw ever clos-
| - [SYSTEM WARNING] - |
| Given prior suspected extreme system manipulation, your EXP gains had been slowed by 75% until a system inspection of previously transpired events was completed. This is now done. Your application has been approved. All withheld experience-points have been refunded. |
| Your previous level was: 100 Your current level is now: 100 |
| ~ Malfi |
Isaiah’s eyes go wide as it stares at the window that has appeared, as if it were perfectly timed to its thoughts, and something unusual happens as it looks at it.
It feels a thudding in its chest and a tightening in its fist. Isaiah feels a gritting in its bones and a tensioning in its muscles.
Malfi.
Is this a joke?
It looks up at the skies with wrath.
Is this some game for them?
The heavens have clearly taken notice of it if Malfi’s communications are targeted at it. But do they care at all?
Do they care about any of this at all?
Isaiah looks over its shoulders at the dead city, looking past the hundreds of confused, frightened freshly resurrected who gather themselves, it looks at the wasteland of a world below, torn asunder and rotted, it looks at the faces of those around it who have suffered so much because of this stupidity and yet…
— Its talons dig into its palm, cutting.
The gods…
They aren’t just mindlessly negligent. They’re willfully so.
The clock-tower ticks, the reverberation moving heavily through Isaiah.
It won’t let them get away with this. It won’t let them get away with what they did to it and with what they did to everyone else here in this world.
— Isaiah turns its head, looking back at the city, where Perchta sits in quiet comfort now that her grim work is half-done. It may take a while yet for it to reach the gods, but she is close; she is within reach.
Razmatazz
By the way, I am open for WRITING COMMISSIONS if you need anything done. I'm a little pricey, but I obviously do good work. =)
| There are many labels for the champions of this world, titles bestowed by society as a whole, if not by the system, bestowed upon us by the gods. Titles are things that augment a person’s class and are gained by performing spectacular feats that are far above the norm. A wizard is the base class of wizard that can further specialize into many other advanced classes after significant progression. An Arch-Wizard, however, is a wizard who has gained a bestowed title from the system and, because of his capabilities, has reached high and far beyond the norm of his peers. Witch-Hunter, Grand-Crusader, Legendary Swordsman are all examples from recently documented history, some being ‘common’ enough to be found once or twice for every million people. Title bestown individuals are amongst the most powerful in the world, raging past noble-born and those who we suspect to carry trace inkling of divine blood, washed out through generations of mixed breeding. Felling a great beast, destroying an insurmountable evil, accomplishing a great thing that none have ever managed before — even if the ‘achievement’ system of previous generations is no longer a part of our world, these acts are still rewarded through this side-system. We do not know where the rules for this begin and end, we do not know when the system decides to give someone such a boon and for what reasons, but we know that it happens. The most societally familiar and popular title is that of ‘Dragonslayer,’ given only to a person who has fought and bested one of the world’s ancient dragons and not just any whelp from a dungeon. People with multiple titles are able to choose between them within the system, although this change is only cosmetic in an individual’s menu screens. |
~ The Mighty Amongst Us, Of Champions, the Elite and the Powerful
| ~ [Seide] ~ |
| Dryad, Female, Wood-mother |
| Location: The Tower, Roost |
“Are you alright?” asks Isaiah, looking down at the dryad, Seide, whom it is holding. She slowly opens her eyes, looking at it in a dazed confusion for a moment, before her gaze turns around to look at the roost of the tower, where hundreds of people are returning, having died and been reborn through the ‘Mercy’ ability.
…Died?
Seide jolts together, her body shaking from the fresh pain of disintegration as she grabs hold of Isaiah. “Isaiah!” exclaims the Dryad, her eyes going wide in the darkness that covers the world. “I messed up, I’m sorry,” she says, lowering her head. “I didn’t pay attention, and I- He…” She lifts her gaze. “I’m really s-!”
Isaiah tilts its head, looking at her calmly. She cut her own sentence off as she looked back up at its expression, which signals not much of a bother towards anything, despite her critical failure in her very first test for which she has had so much time to prepare.
It turns its head, looking to the side as a gust comes over them. The people around them stir, rising from their slumber of death as well. “The wind is pleasant tonight,” it explains, as a warm gust rises over the tower, unusually out of place for this great height.
It sets her down.
“Do not fret, Seide,” says Isaiah. “The tower is long still and I find it very interesting, honestly,” it explains.
“What?” she asks, standing on her hooves and straightening her back.
“The brightness of souls,” explains the entity, closing its eyes. “Even through the corruption of the witch-rot, light shines through the cracks from within,” says Isaiah. “She has brought so many interesting souls to me,” it says, opening one eye to look at her for a moment before then closing it again.
Seide watches it, standing there in silence for a time, before turning her head and feeling the wind moving through her hair.
It really is warm tonight.
| ~ [Aurin, The Meek] ~ |
| Human, Male, Crusader {Legendary Swordsman} |
| Location: The Sub-Tower, Floor -99 |
| ~ [Dungeon] ~ |
| Floor {-99} (Diligence) |
| The Eternal Battleground |
| Floor -99 of the sub-tower of Isaiah A grand chamber, filled with cream colored marble pillars, each as large as a castle. Countless waves of the dead spirits, lost to the tower, fill the great emptiness of the space, howling for a chance to fight once more beneath the banner of the Valkyrie. |
| Room Effect: When activated, diverts all UNDEAD from the exterior graveyard and utilizes them as combatants for this floor. The stronger the [Graveyard] the stronger this floor will become. |
| ~ [Valkyrie]~ | |
| Class: DIVINE BEING | Element: HOLY |
| Type: HARBINGER | Category: ZEAL |
| Rank: SSS | |
| Level: 100 | |
| A Valkyrie.
The angels of the battlefield, Valkyries are warrior spirits who choose the worthy dead to fight on the eternal battlegrounds of the afterlife. Valkyrie are large, vaguely hominid, entities with partially translucent bodies and feathered wings. They wear heavy plate armor with obscuring features. They wield any number of conventional weapons but seem to prefer spears or combinations of a short-sword and a large shield. The number of wings a Valkyrie has, up to sixteen, signifies its level of power. | |
| - [Two Wings] - | |
| [Neugard]: For every {10} enemy combatants slain during the encounter, resurrects a worthy {01} soul as a powerful warrior of the faith of Isaiah | |
| [Jagdmeid]: The valkyrie is a close combatant and will engage in honorable combat with one foe at a time. However, she is a creature of purpose and will intensely follow her core work — the resurrection of the dead. For every {30} seconds she is in a single fight, the number of undead raised by [Neugard] will be increased by 25% (Min. +1) | |
| [Hohenheim]: Passively regenerates HP based on the height of the Valkyrie. | |
| HP: 927/999 | SOUL: ∞/∞ |
— The heavy blade cracks down against the stones, sending a tear through the rocks from the weight of the weapon as he heaves, his breast, hunched over, lurching, as vapors leave his mouth.
Thousands of men roar as they rush past him on both sides, his presence standing there, interrupting their stampede like a tide-break on the ocean. They flow around him and her, leaving a hole in the swarm of bodies that moves forward.
Aurin lifts his gaze, looking at the entity, a hand covering one slot of his visor to stop it from shaking, due to the quake caused by the thundering of so many boots.
He looks at the entity he’s fighting, bright and -
— Dark. It’s a dark creature. Wretched. Wicked. The armored woman’s features contort, warp, and change; her wings turn black; her face falls hollow, revealing the truth of the corruption in her foul eyes. Thousands of undead swarm around her, crawling like parasites and fleeing from an overabundant, overpopulated host.
His brothers are fighting them.
He has to kill her.
Aurin readies himself. They can’t waste the members of the grand crusade yet. He has to do the legwork. That’s why he’s here.
The rotting undead readies its lance, its putrid wings rising into the air as he arcs his sword back, pressing forward with his boot. The creature, locked in its feral obsession with him, launches forward to meet him in the middle.
| ~ [Isaiah] ~ |
Isaiah reopens its eyes.
The crusade is making faster progress than expected, but these floors to come will keep them busy for a time. They might be the lowest floors of the tower, but they were still made when Isaiah was at his strongest. They are designed in accordance.
| New Area |
| ~ [Dungeon] ~ |
| Floor {160} |
| The Scales of the Old Gods |
| A forgotten corner of the spirit world, once used by the old gods who were worshiped in days now long forgotten. A person’s soul will be weighed against a feather. If they are found lacking, a critical boss encounter must be surmounted. |
It looks at the window. Good. The tower continues to grow. People still continue to pray and holler its name into the night, as they should. There is ample time yet for the bridge to be completed, even if the crusade makes progress.
It won’t be long now. The ascension is almost complete. The final core is ticking down and the heavens draw ever clos-
| - [SYSTEM WARNING] - |
| Given prior suspected extreme system manipulation, your EXP gains had been slowed by 75% until a system inspection of previously transpired events was completed. This is now done. Your application has been approved. All withheld experience-points have been refunded. |
| Your previous level was: 100 Your current level is now: 100 |
| ~ Malfi |
Isaiah’s eyes go wide as it stares at the window that has appeared, as if it were perfectly timed to its thoughts, and something unusual happens as it looks at it.
It feels a thudding in its chest and a tightening in its fist. Isaiah feels a gritting in its bones and a tensioning in its muscles.
Malfi.
Is this a joke?
It looks up at the skies with wrath.
Is this some game for them?
The heavens have clearly taken notice of it if Malfi’s communications are targeted at it. But do they care at all?
Do they care about any of this at all?
Isaiah looks over its shoulders at the dead city, looking past the hundreds of confused, frightened freshly resurrected who gather themselves, it looks at the wasteland of a world below, torn asunder and rotted, it looks at the faces of those around it who have suffered so much because of this stupidity and yet…
— Its talons dig into its palm, cutting.
The gods…
They aren’t just mindlessly negligent. They’re willfully so.
The clock-tower ticks, the reverberation moving heavily through Isaiah.
It won’t let them get away with this. It won’t let them get away with what they did to it and with what they did to everyone else here in this world.
— Isaiah turns its head, looking back at the city, where Perchta sits in quiet comfort now that her grim work is half-done. It may take a while yet for it to reach the gods, but she is close; she is within reach.
Razmatazz
By the way, I am open for WRITING COMMISSIONS if you need anything done. I'm a little pricey, but I obviously do good work. =)
