The Starry Void: In the beginning there was an asshole of a Dark One...

[Anastasia]

I need another day or so to get all the DM's work for this game done. In the meantime I'm going to open up the floor for basic IC intro stuff and to let you guys get your feet wet. Treat these first few posts as a chance to warm up. This should sync with all of your spirit writeups, if not, just roll with it and I'll make any corrections if you point them out. Thanks.

Pain. Agony. Suffering. All these and far many more are the last things all of you remember. The triumph of the Dark One, the end of everything you knew as your lifeblood spilled out from your shattered bodies.  Some of you were sane, some of you were insane. Some of you didn't know it was coming just then, some of you faced your end with courage and doomed conviction. But does any of it matter? For right now you are in the utmost agony. It is as if you are being torn apart by a thousand rending nails!

This feeling passes. Awareness comes flooding in, awareness and sanity. In a Starry Void you float in, the place where your spirits rest. A place where thought morphs the shape of this sky-void, for what little it truly matters; your goal is not here. Word from the Dark One will come soon, you are certain of this. Your instructions and the understanding of how to create yourself - your Avatar - and attempt to reach the Dark One's throne. Such understanding is as clear as day to your intellect. But it's not yet, for this is a time to become aware of those the Dark One has condemned to this journey of the damned as well. For in your heart you know that they are like you, lost souls adrift in HIS power.

In this void you have a faint, shadowy body of what you once were. It flickers like an ethereal ghost, yet is solid enough to work here. The beginning of your task looms ahead.

Feel free to intro yourselves to each other. You understand that you can shape the void to whatever surroundings you like with a few thoughts if you wish for a less inhuman void to exist in. You're aware of the basic premise that you've died and that the Dark One beckons you to reach his throne, where you can receive a wish...and perhaps a chance to rest, escape or even confront him. Basically you know everything in writeup in the recruiting topic.

Good luck in Eisenschloss! You'll need it.

[Carthrat]

Sacchin's spirit shimmers in the blankness, only visible by the stars it hides. It has little form to it, perhaps even less than the others, initially. What can be seen is the outline of a young girl-creature, with deformed claws for hands and unkempt hair; so long that it could serve as a defender of dignity, if there was any need for such things here.

She puts a hand to where her chest used to be out of instinct, expecting pain, but something surprises her.

"I'm... not h-h.. hun-gry," she murmurs in an odd guttural, as if unsure how to properly speak, and for the first time in years, instinct takes a back seat to reason.

[Ebiris]

Flasheart appears much as he did in life, a man of slim build with a rather bouffant hairstyle piled atop his head. He wears a pair of tight pants and sturdy leather boots, with an elaborate and rigid-looking jewelled doublet around his body, half open to reveal a thick ruffled shirt. Despite the horrible tortures he has endured, he nonetheless wears a confident smirk upon his handsome face, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Well you must be in heaven," he remarks to the messy-looking vampire girl, "Because Lord Flasheart is here! Woof!" he punctuates his statement with a pelvic thrust in her direction.

[Carthrat]

At the sound of another's voice, Sacchin's face twists into a hideous visage, and she lunges for the source, beclawed hand plunging through his heart-

-she should've known that it wouldn't work in this place, though, as her arm passes harmlessly through his incorporeal body. The crunch of bone and the comforting splash of blood feel like distant memories. As if her actions are merely a misdemeanour, she pulls the hand back and makes a disgruntled face.

"Form is nothing... heaven, this is not," she intones, disconsolantly floating away and staring at her ineffectual palm.

[Dracos]

Another stood there, his form ephemeral as he floated, darkness wrapping around him, more as a shield than as a true part of him, a way to approach the world and keep it at bay.    His features were completely obscured, human certainly, but of what age or what nationality or anything else was quite hard to tell.

"Hell would be a more apt description," Shadow said coldly, appraising the other two.  He did not recognize them.  He must be the only one that was brought here.  But for what purpose did he still remember?  They could be shades of his power, only there...for what purpose?  The Dark One had shattered his world with ease.  Mockery seemed pointless in such avenues.

[Corwin]

"Well, that was thoroughly unpleasant," Euphemia notes, brushing imaginary dust off her blood-splattered white dress. The void around her is an eyesore, and she conjures a grassy patch to seat on, surrounded by beautiful flowers.

[VySaika]

As Ranmaru faded in, his(or is it her?) form was as stable and visable as Shadow and Sacchin were vague. Obviously dressed for battle in some fantasy land where leg protection was for the weak, he(he?) wore gold and purple armor on her(or is that his?) chest and arms, with a purple vest loosely belted around the outside with a golden cord. His(?) legs were protected by nothing other the sandals, some shinguards, and shorts, leaving the thigh area exposed, and somehow strangely unscarred. Her(?) hair was dark black, and kept in a high ponytail by a pair of golden pins.

"Hell? You mean the land the demons hail from?" Ranmaru snorted, "Fitting then, that they should invade our world only for us to now invade theirs."

Having a quick thought, he looked the others over for a moment, "Except...we aren't all from the same world, are we? I'm getting just a bit sick of getting wrenched out of one world and dropped in some hodgepodge collection of another by some all powerful monster."

[Merc]

Varian remains silent, not willing to extend his trust out to these strangers just yet. If anything, he appears more preoccupied with checking himself over and trying to make sense of this state of existance that has been thrust upon him, not to mention these strangers around him.

[Carthrat]

"Not.. hell. No. Chance at wish," argues Sacchin, head darting around from person to person to person and then back to the first again. Her form starts to shudder, emitting ripples as if a pebble was thrown into a lake.

[Dracos]

"A chance at a wish?  Whatever," His eyes were cold, not that it meant much to Sacchin.  "I see...  The monster has become bored with simply destruction and now uses men as toys."

[VySaika]

"So he would use us for amusement?" Ranmaru's eyes narrowed, though he quirked the beginnings of a small smile, "This Dark One reminds me of Orochi already. And like that foul snake, he may end up regretting giving us this chance."

He turned to the others, "My name is Ranmaru Mori, a warrior of Wu. I cannot strictly say I am pleased to be here, but it is always best to know that one is not alone, no matter how bleak things have gotten."

[Carthrat]

"Regret? W-why?" stammers Sacchin; the word has an uncomfortable level of bearing on her wish.

[Dracos]

"Death.  If it is even possible for a creature of such magnitude."  He said shortly.

[Ebiris]

"Bah," Lord Flasheart waves dismissively, seemingly unperturbed by Sacchin's attack on him. "Whatever this Dark One's game is, he'll regret the day he trifled with Lord Flasheart! I suppose he expects me to lead you lot and hopes I'll be slowed down enough by it to give him a chance..." he eyes the group speculatively before settling on Euphemia. "Well now, it looks like I'm not the only one with proper breeding around here after all!" Sauntering closer to the blood-spattered princess, he gestures lewdly to his crotch, "Am I pleased to see you or did I just put a canoe in my pocket?"

[Corwin]

"You are being terribly rude, I will have you know," Euphemia says sternly, looking up. "Lord Faintheart, was it? Do you have any business with me?"