Zain
09-13-2018, 08:10 PM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative" rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .zain_cont { position: relative; z-index: 1; background-color: #0b0e00; width: 500px; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 8px #000; border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em} .zain_cont p { margin: 0; } .zain_image { position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 500px; border-top: 2px solid #aaa; border-radius: 0em 0em 0em 0em } .zain_text { position: relative; z-index: 6; width: 400px; } .zain_msg { position: relative; font: 18px 'serif'; text-align: left; color: #bbb; padding: 30px 30px 30px; } .zain_name { position: absolute; z-index: 9; text-align: left; font: 50px 'Cinzel Decorative', cursive; color: #bbb; letter-spacing: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 14px; } .zain_quote { position: absolute; z-index: 6; text-align: left; color: #458766; font: 12px 'Times New Roman'; font-style: italic; padding-top: 49px; padding-left: 65px; } </style> <center> <div class="zain_cont"> <div class="zain_text"> <p class="zain_msg">The red-eyed beast lulls impatiently. Waiting for the others to catch up and gather again, he entertains himself. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. His mouth pulses open like that of a sea creature, releasing entrapped air that remained in his lungs, to float in a bubbly display to the surface. Boredom would soon suffocate him if he hadn’t acquired this nifty underwater breathing magic. A crafty grin spreads across his lips when others arrive.
It wouldn’t be long now.
They look about the sunken lands. He had not been around at this time and so he only knows stories of the sunken kingdom. His God's creation. It was a masterpiece and he felt privileged to be able to witness it let alone go into it.
Carnage reappears, more abirition than flesh, and instructs them to follow the path to his kingdoms heart. Blood red eyes trail from where Carnage existed and to where he commanded. A winding trail through a grove of hollowed trees lay just before them. Sea life scattered about its remains, passing through but never resting. The only bright life here was the eternal flora through his locks. He grumbles at the thought and touches his blight to them in disgust, knowing they would come right back.
They don’t.
He is stunned at the new revelation and fails to be the first to follow the murky path. His view turns to himself and examines the thread of dead plant life along his sienna nape. What had changed? As his gazes passes along his body he notices the black speck at his hip has grown, formed. A large X has taken its place and he slightly fathoms what has marked him. Perhaps it was Pangea herself, claiming him as her own. Or, his head turns to where his God has dissipated, could Carnage have blessed him…
He would not know the answer this moment and so, with a new sense of purpose and pride, he rushes onward. Finding the path, now beaten with hoofprints, he travels quickly through the forest and hardly notices that the trail has veered. Now he walks alone, or so he thinks. Within the murky grey of the waters, he feels a rush of water from above him. He looks up without slowing. Strange. The current then strengthens to his left, his head turns and instinctively he stops -eyes squinting to make out anything lurking in the depths.
“Who is there?” He bellows into the waters. It seems that the ocean has quieted and so he looks back to the trail with a snort of irritation. He hated games.
Just as he is about to step forward, there is a deafening screech. He winces from the pain of ringing in his ears, eyes slowly opening to find a winged bay standing in his path. The horse is nothing he has seen before, and a part of him wished to ask it to join his crew. The thought is fleeting as he looks harder at the mare, her fangs where highly noticeable with the flesh half rotted off her face. A set of tattered leather wings were lifted skyward and blocking the width of his route. She stares at him with hollowed sockets before wicked words fall from his unhinged jaw, “Seems my worthless daughter now has a flower child… How pathetic.” The banshee sneers before lunging forward, teeth slashing for his neck. He rears, contacting his hoof with her skull before dodging to the right, “Get away from me you creepy wench.” He spins about to face her again, finding a chunk of bone shattered off her head as she too turns to face him. What did this deadwalker know of him and his mother, he wonders.
He runs his fore hoof through the muck below, bowing his head and arching his strong neck. A guttural scream emits from his vocals as he charges forward, aiming to barrel over the ghastly creature.
Die bitch
He prepares for impact but the bat-winged demon vanishes right as he leans into his shoulder with all his weight. The momentum sends him driving through where the zombie had stood, his hunches buckle to slide him to a quick halt. Again he swings around, but this time all he sees is the path and in the distance a brighter flicker of green light.
His teeth grit as he reexamines his surroundings, unconvinced the creature has simply vanished, but seeing nothing he steps forward and back onto his mission. If he ever seen his mother again, he’d make a point to ask her of what he had just witnessed.
It isn’t much farther down the trail that he gets a strange sensation. There is a tingling along his side, no a burning. He lurches forwards, kicking his rear legs into the dense waters. The burning continues. In a slight panic he looks to see what is touching him, who is touching him. There is a mass of reddish goo with long tentacles attached near his hip with the marking. The stinging was coming from where the being was clinging to his flesh and he reaches to rip it from his hindquarters. His ivory teeth barely touch it before the creature is flinging a barbed tentacle at his face -landing it across his right eye. Bulking in pain, he jets backwards and into a deadened tree stump, “What the fuck is this shit?” He growls, the pain at his rear was dulling but the fresh wound along his face still burned.
With his one good eye, he looks around him. Stopping on a pair of fiery eyes staring back at him from the shadows. Again he growls, ready to charge at the mysterious stranger. He doesn’t have to, the abomination comes to him. A blackish horse with tentacles for hair and deep red eyes, stands before him. He is dumbfounded at the equines oddity, and again he wished to ask the being to join his crew. He doesn’t get a chance before the mare speaks, “You’d be smart to go back to where you came from… Carnage will only destroy you.” He then notices a faint pulse of red through a hole in the mares breast. She flickers to transparent and where a heart should beat, only a hollow space is seen. Unsure if he is slightly sickened or semi-amused, he straightens his posture and opens his wounded eye to better see. With another blink, she is gone.
His mind is flooded with questions. Who were these horses? Had Carnage tortured them? Were they simply figments of his imagination? He draws in a deep breath before again stepping forwards. Looking to the path the glow of green is brighter than ever and he imagines he is nearly there. They slight burning of his flesh keeps him from moving at his quickest pace, but a powered walk gets him to the edge of the crater quick enough. He peers into the sickly abyss and listens for the heart of Pangea...</p></div> <div class="zain_name">Zain</div> <div class="zain_quote">ReBeL jUsT fOr KiCkS</div> <img class="zain_image" src="https://images2.imgbox.com/22/8d/fuXJC59y_o.gif"> </div> </center>
Zombie horse- Karaugh (his granddam)
Obstacle #2- Dynast attacking him with jellyfish powers (Was in last Carnage quest)
Also, his flowers are dying off and are being replaced with tattoos- change in aesthetic traits okd by Cassi
It wouldn’t be long now.
They look about the sunken lands. He had not been around at this time and so he only knows stories of the sunken kingdom. His God's creation. It was a masterpiece and he felt privileged to be able to witness it let alone go into it.
Carnage reappears, more abirition than flesh, and instructs them to follow the path to his kingdoms heart. Blood red eyes trail from where Carnage existed and to where he commanded. A winding trail through a grove of hollowed trees lay just before them. Sea life scattered about its remains, passing through but never resting. The only bright life here was the eternal flora through his locks. He grumbles at the thought and touches his blight to them in disgust, knowing they would come right back.
They don’t.
He is stunned at the new revelation and fails to be the first to follow the murky path. His view turns to himself and examines the thread of dead plant life along his sienna nape. What had changed? As his gazes passes along his body he notices the black speck at his hip has grown, formed. A large X has taken its place and he slightly fathoms what has marked him. Perhaps it was Pangea herself, claiming him as her own. Or, his head turns to where his God has dissipated, could Carnage have blessed him…
He would not know the answer this moment and so, with a new sense of purpose and pride, he rushes onward. Finding the path, now beaten with hoofprints, he travels quickly through the forest and hardly notices that the trail has veered. Now he walks alone, or so he thinks. Within the murky grey of the waters, he feels a rush of water from above him. He looks up without slowing. Strange. The current then strengthens to his left, his head turns and instinctively he stops -eyes squinting to make out anything lurking in the depths.
“Who is there?” He bellows into the waters. It seems that the ocean has quieted and so he looks back to the trail with a snort of irritation. He hated games.
Just as he is about to step forward, there is a deafening screech. He winces from the pain of ringing in his ears, eyes slowly opening to find a winged bay standing in his path. The horse is nothing he has seen before, and a part of him wished to ask it to join his crew. The thought is fleeting as he looks harder at the mare, her fangs where highly noticeable with the flesh half rotted off her face. A set of tattered leather wings were lifted skyward and blocking the width of his route. She stares at him with hollowed sockets before wicked words fall from his unhinged jaw, “Seems my worthless daughter now has a flower child… How pathetic.” The banshee sneers before lunging forward, teeth slashing for his neck. He rears, contacting his hoof with her skull before dodging to the right, “Get away from me you creepy wench.” He spins about to face her again, finding a chunk of bone shattered off her head as she too turns to face him. What did this deadwalker know of him and his mother, he wonders.
He runs his fore hoof through the muck below, bowing his head and arching his strong neck. A guttural scream emits from his vocals as he charges forward, aiming to barrel over the ghastly creature.
Die bitch
He prepares for impact but the bat-winged demon vanishes right as he leans into his shoulder with all his weight. The momentum sends him driving through where the zombie had stood, his hunches buckle to slide him to a quick halt. Again he swings around, but this time all he sees is the path and in the distance a brighter flicker of green light.
His teeth grit as he reexamines his surroundings, unconvinced the creature has simply vanished, but seeing nothing he steps forward and back onto his mission. If he ever seen his mother again, he’d make a point to ask her of what he had just witnessed.
It isn’t much farther down the trail that he gets a strange sensation. There is a tingling along his side, no a burning. He lurches forwards, kicking his rear legs into the dense waters. The burning continues. In a slight panic he looks to see what is touching him, who is touching him. There is a mass of reddish goo with long tentacles attached near his hip with the marking. The stinging was coming from where the being was clinging to his flesh and he reaches to rip it from his hindquarters. His ivory teeth barely touch it before the creature is flinging a barbed tentacle at his face -landing it across his right eye. Bulking in pain, he jets backwards and into a deadened tree stump, “What the fuck is this shit?” He growls, the pain at his rear was dulling but the fresh wound along his face still burned.
With his one good eye, he looks around him. Stopping on a pair of fiery eyes staring back at him from the shadows. Again he growls, ready to charge at the mysterious stranger. He doesn’t have to, the abomination comes to him. A blackish horse with tentacles for hair and deep red eyes, stands before him. He is dumbfounded at the equines oddity, and again he wished to ask the being to join his crew. He doesn’t get a chance before the mare speaks, “You’d be smart to go back to where you came from… Carnage will only destroy you.” He then notices a faint pulse of red through a hole in the mares breast. She flickers to transparent and where a heart should beat, only a hollow space is seen. Unsure if he is slightly sickened or semi-amused, he straightens his posture and opens his wounded eye to better see. With another blink, she is gone.
His mind is flooded with questions. Who were these horses? Had Carnage tortured them? Were they simply figments of his imagination? He draws in a deep breath before again stepping forwards. Looking to the path the glow of green is brighter than ever and he imagines he is nearly there. They slight burning of his flesh keeps him from moving at his quickest pace, but a powered walk gets him to the edge of the crater quick enough. He peers into the sickly abyss and listens for the heart of Pangea...</p></div> <div class="zain_name">Zain</div> <div class="zain_quote">ReBeL jUsT fOr KiCkS</div> <img class="zain_image" src="https://images2.imgbox.com/22/8d/fuXJC59y_o.gif"> </div> </center>
Zombie horse- Karaugh (his granddam)
Obstacle #2- Dynast attacking him with jellyfish powers (Was in last Carnage quest)
Also, his flowers are dying off and are being replaced with tattoos- change in aesthetic traits okd by Cassi