Moar character interaction? Done.
Reserved.
*Gl1tch, please spell my name correctly in the characters summary post on the first page. Thank you.
***
The utter darkness disoriented the Archangel for a brief moment, though the transpiration of "a brief moment" from his perspective may actually have taken place over the course of many seconds to others.
Curious. I was in the Kingdom of Light but a few minutes ago. What in the name of Solraegiel's holiest Light is this?Then he perceived a voice speaking about "moving on" and "death"; the entire affair began to bear a disturbingly striking resemblance to the gladiatorial fights which were held by barbarous brutes in the Earth Kingdom many thousands of years ago, until Heaven forced the inhumane activity to cease by means of an intervention in which he participated.
But of course, he was not in the Earth Kingdom. That would most absurd; such gladiatorial fights really had altogether disappeared from the mortal world thousands of years ago, and he had proven instrumental in ensuring that.
In fact, the entire matter was most ridiculous; one minute, he was in the Kingdom of Light upon the mortal plane, and the next, somewhere completely random, mysterious and unknown?
Nevermind where I am for the moment. Other, more pressing priorities await. However, the foolish mortals whom have dared this travesty - if it is true that inhumane gladiatorial fights continue to exist in places unwatched by Heaven - shall pay most dearly, as is just.In the distance ahead lay a welcome (though not necessarily so) sight: a door! However, all things considered, he believed it to be very probable that it perforce had to be an improvement over his current situation, in a chamber containing caged monsters and other humanoid shapes in its corners. A seemingly random pile of rubble lay in a corner as well.
In any event, he was inclined to some exploring of his surroundings and to the gathering of his bearings.
Stepping over the door-sill, the path ahead naturally illuminated by his presence, providing a comforting white light in the midst of the shadow, he advanced to explore the area, with an inherent amount of caution, but fairly boldly and straightforwardly nonetheless; after all, not since the end of the Last Golden Age had he encountered a real challenge in combat.
Suddenly, he perceived via audition faint steps of movement which grew progressively less subtle in addition to clearly audible moaning noises. Unfortunately, they were not the type of moans one would hear from a poor innocent victimised child, many of whom Arcterael have encountered and aided before, but rather, they were the menacing type one might hear from an enemy.
He tensed himself, readying himself into a state of full alert, Dawnbringer drawn before him and Lightbearer held in a ready defensive position, eyes scanning the passage ahead for any sign of hostiles.
His intuition proved correct and fortunate; barely a few seconds later, six mummies burst forth from the passage into his vision, arms and hands thrust out before them, and moaning threateningly.
Arcterael was quite the contrary of scared; he was amused.
Mummies? I was expecting something slightly stronger.Within a matter of milliseconds, as comprehension would dawn on these pathetic little Death creatures regarding whom they were dealing with, these mummies, like the thousands the Archangel of Hope had slaughtered before, would flee, unable to tolerate his brilliant presence.
At least, that was the expected outcome of this encounter. It did not occur.
These mummies seem to be slightly stronger than the other generic ones. They are actually not running away at the very sight of me. Matters are becoming curiouser and curiouser.Then, comprehension dawned indeed, but for Arcterael.
By Solraegiel! The mummies have not become stronger; rather it seems I have been weakened in this environment. The Light within me is slightly dimmer than even upon the mortal plane. Perhaps I am not even on Earth anymore.Unfortunately, his investigation into his present whereabouts was promptly interrupted by hostile, approaching mummies.
Acting at angelic speed, which when perceived by mortals, is swift indeed, the Archangel of Hope flew unhesitatingly into the fray. The first few movements of Dawnbringer slashed through the bandage wrappings and their contents like the course of a hot knife through butter, the creatures of Death falling before the Sword of Hope. Three died within the first few seconds of combat; however, due to his weakened state, as Arcterael acted rapidly to permanently incapacitate two more mummies with lunges directly into their abdomen areas, the last of the group managed to lay his hands upon the Archangel while the latter was exposed, reaching for the neck.
Withdrawing his blade from the stomach of the fifth late hostile, Arcterael turned around in time to execute the same manoeuvre with the last member of the welcoming committee.
He almost touched me. That encounter certainly did not proceed as smoothly as I would have liked, for a petty skirmish against six little mummies.Proceeding onwards while brooding over the troubling thought, he was again rudely interrupted, being pulled back to the immediate present by the sight of what appeared to vaguely resemble a Pharoah, but a Pharoah wearing purple armour with horribly twisted decaying features classifying him more closely with Death than with Time.
Curiouser and curiouser indeed. A Corrupted Pharoah? Here?The Death Pharoah then unleashed at least a dozen (by Arcterael's initial count) Death Scarabs from the shadows in the distance without warning, whom appeared like twisted and corrupted versions of true Time Scarabs.
Understanding that the potential threat these Scarabs posed, the Archangel wisely conducted a small tactical retreat in order to acquire time to prepare himself for this new challenge.
Though these hostiles were individually very weak, it would definitely be advisable to not affront them combined. The situation was suited more for tactics than for a charge into the thick of the storm. Approximately twenty-five metres behind him lay a curve in the passage; retreating quickly behind it, he prepared for the arrival of his enemies.
By the time the first of the Scarabs turned the corner, he was prepared to provide for them a warm welcome, all expenses paid. Suddenly, without any prior notice or warning given, Arcterael, drawing upon his inner Light, illuminated the entire passageway with a blinding white radiance.
The Scarabs faltered, and began to screech, conveying their pain.
Exploiting their disorientation and confusing, the Archangel charged forward and eliminated them with ease. It had been very elementary. However, the most difficult challenge lay ahead, figuratively and literally. Though his swarm had been neutralised, it seemed that the Death Pharoah knew how to wield a sword (a purple blade to match his accoutrements) and was advancing, still without fear (and consequently, without any sense).
The fool knows no better. His misery shall be ended presently.Dawnbringer fell without mercy upon his opponent but was first intercepted by the enemy sword in this initial clash. Always acting at angelic speed, the Archangel swiftly turned and targeted his opponent's vulnerable, other side, the Sword of Hope slicing through the armour and piercing flesh.
The Death Pharoah obstinately continued the suicidal encounter and attempted to lunge at Arcterael, whom swiftly parried it and finally performed the
coup de grace, decapitating the enemy.
The Pharoah head rolled ungracefully upon the ground, while its body, now a limp stump, crashed, embedded in and encumbered by heavy armour, onto the ground, clanging noisily.
I am not the Archangel of Mercy. These pathetic fools of death received what they merited. However, the true antagonist whom must be brought to justice is the brutal, barbaric sadist who is organising this bloody mess. Ultimately, when all other matters become irrelevant and unworthy of consideration, that shall remain the constant, underlying and yet, overarching objective.Then, it occurred to him that he should attempt to communicate with Heaven.
If I can alert the Council of this travesty, they shall be able to assist me, presumably.Entering the higher dimension of angelic thought and concentrating with all the focused energy he could muster, he directed a warning message to Heaven, and waited, but received no response. Heaven seemed particularly, if not peculiarly, distant. It would require a long time before an Angel received his thought, at the very least.
Continuing guardedly along the passageway, always alerted to the slightest detection by any of his senses, he proceeded, until he reached a larger chamber in the maze complex.
He paused, surprised for two brief moments before the scene vaguely visible in the blackness.
Two tall young men, one with a white beard, the other with a handsome face capped by golden hair stood confronting each other, the former frightendly holding up a staff before him, ornamented with a smooth orb
He tensed once more, entering a full state of readiness immediately without delay, while preparing to sense the present attitude of these two figures and their relative alignment with Good and Evil.
Concentrating on his targets for this task, Arcterael swiftly completed a superficial sweep.
My heart tells me that there is no taint of evil within them, at least upon the surface. For the present, this intelligence shall have to suffice. Time is not a commodity I possess in luxurious quantities, and it is of a great importance to co-operate with others who find themselves in the same dilemma should we wish to survive the ordeal and bring the evil force behind this to Justice.Satisfied with the result for the moment, the Archangel of Hope resolved to proclaim in his clear, ringing voice, "Greetings, and I would hope, well met. I am Arcterael the Archangel of Hope. Since it seems that you are not tainted by Evil, and considering that it seems that we find ourselves in the same dilemma, I propose the following: co-operation and mutual assistance, if anything, to survive together."
Arcterael also briefly noticed that the golden-haired fellow seemed vaguely familiar, but sadly could not presently recall exactly why.
***
