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Found 7 results

  1. main plot

    The Rift had been destroyed. The Red Phoenix was gone. The Dark Phoenix was calming. The Guilds were hiding. The timing was perfect. Lord Ajax waved his hands, and the ceiling opened, slowly. The flying members were into the sky within seconds. The rest waited impatiently as the floor slowly lifted up. They reached the ground, and they spilled out in a massive field of demons, people, spren, and other creatures. Dotted among the monstrosities was humans, Singers, Sleepless. They all wore uniforms, black and gold, emblazoned with a purple nightshade flowers, and the words Bureau of Villainy. But the creatures overshadowed them easily. Ranging from human sized to one the size of the Alleyzon skyscraper, they were all dangerous, destructive. And they all worked for Lord Ajax. They moved forward toward the city, some flying ahead, some sprinted, slowly lumbering. Around them, grass burnt, long tracks were carved through the dirt, massive chunks of earth and stone were turned to glass, crystal, steel. The landscape had the look of a terribly diseased man or woman. Mismatched colors, scars and pockmarks. It was all beautiful to him. The first arrived, and all the others were not far behind. Biggest, the large one, was shaped like a wheel, spiked and dark. Everything it touched was ripped to shreds by the spikes, which were actually thousands of clawed hands. It ripped apart a building as he watched. He would go soon, but he wanted to save the best for last. The Guilds could fight the monsters, barely. But him... they would be like mewling kittens as he took everything they had for himself. The Dark Phoenix was quickly not the only thing in the sky. It was surrounded by harpies, spren, dragons, and worse. But still it hovered. Fine with him. The Dark Horde was released. He cackled, mismatched eyes glowing bright.
  2. main plot

    Darkness shrouded the city. The mist had filled it, the demons had invaded it, and the citizens had destroyed it. Buildings burned, and so did people. Blood flowed through the streets, the sewers. The most mild mannered people had become raging murderers. Taverns, businesses, houses, destroyed by flaming skulls and mistwraiths. Dragons flew throughout the city, torching it. But there was hope. PlasmaCore was falling. The guilds were fighting them, sending in troopers. And dawn was rising. The mist faded as the sun rose, retreating from the city. And they had a clear view of the carnage, the destruction. Those not wrapped in the purple-red haze were disgusted, horrified. Bodies everywhere, man, woman, child. Building after building destroyed, the work the Traders Union had put so much effort into destroyed. And it kept going. The monsters were still there, animal and human.
  3. main plot

    The man walked forward quickly, ripping it out the dark pineapple from its position, throwing it through the window. He summoned gold from the air, ripping pieces apart, a flurry of motion reshaping the machine before their eyes. One scientist tried to stop him, but one glance from his mismatched eyes froze the woman in her tracks. Then he slammed his starry fist into a red button, and the rift closed. Three seconds later, a new rift opened, but this one was spiraling in a multitude of colors, all through a black that was a color, not an absence. Purple, red, an eerie green. But not the color of the Void. And this new rift, this new Vortex, grew, it was obvious it was a different thing entirely. As this happened, the blue haze spread out, leaving through the window. It spread out into the nighttime city, blotting out the stars throughout the entire city, and continued spreading. The reddish blob had pulled back into the corner, faces moving quickly. The man turned to Dark Phoenix, and she unfroze. "What did you do? Who do you think you are?" She stormed up to him, small sparks flying around her. The man's face was cold as he looked towards her. Or she thought it was. Dammit, this strange face is gonna be hard to interpret. She stepped right up to him, looking up. He must have been eight feet or more, his height towering over her by such a large amount. When he spoke, moments later, it was in a commanding voice, with no room for argument. She felt a strange tug on her emotions, telling her to listen to the man. "Voidus and Sudiov will come to this city, looking for war. Looking to see what happened here." He shook his head, and she found herself captivated by his every act. "We must replicate this experiment somewhere else, a block or two away, so that they find it there." She nodded, and gestured to an awestruck scientist standing there to write this down. He's so smart. So wise. This must be true, if he says so. Then she shook her head, grimacing. He was manipulating her, somehow. She glared at him, but he didn't seem to care. And that voice in her head, saying, if he is, it must be for a good reason. "Then we can continue this. And don't try to stop this machine." He gestured backwards, then walked out in long strides. The blob followed him, for some reason. The man resisted, but was quickly silenced. They took his corpse a few blocks away and dropped it in the gutter. No one would know. It was not uncommon to find such corpses. E.Z.R.A. 1 grinned. He led the E.Z.R.A. clones. He was the only one who had a full mind, and he had one power of his own. He supervised as soulcasters carved out a giant basement, and put in steel plating, replicating the experiment, dark pineapple at all. They reactivated it, and the rift opened. While they looked, E.Z.R.A. 1 slit their throats, one by one. No witnesses. He picked up the soulcasters, turning each corpse into air. It was done. He walked away. A cold voice came from the speaker of his room. "Damon. You have your mission." A holograph appeared in front of him. It showed a map of the Alleycity, three-dimensional. It highlighted a Black Crusade building within the city. Then another, lighting all of those within the city up. "Attack these bases, and leave no witnesses. Take their corpses and strew them out in the streets, armor still on them. Make it bloody, if you can." Five ones were turned red. "Ignore these for now. We have them covered." The hologram disappeared, leaving a small paper with the map, now two-dimensional, on it. @ElendVenture @Grey Knight The drones alighted on the ship, at last. The blobs began to eat into it, like a super acid. The drones flew away, blowing up in the air. The blobs glowed brighter, eating through the plating at a ridiculous rate. *** The blue haze had darkened the sky of the Alleycity, and made even the other side of the street near invisible. It was a terrible sight. *** The man stood there, receiving the information from the TUBA meeting, from the spies in lower alleys they had. The DA was at a giant meeting. This hadn't happened since long, long before the Seven Day War, or even the formation of TUBA and the Ghostbloods. This was dangerous. He would report it to someone higher up.
  4. main plot

    Work had been going on for months. A massive building, not a skyscraper, but still huge, constructed from people no one had ever heard of. Rumors went around that it was really the Ghostbloods, the Dark Alley, or even a second Den of Thieves. That Hellbent, the terror of villages, was back. Another Alleyzon building, or Trident, or Craftsmen. That it was an outreach of Avatarism. But above them all, a rumor scarier than any of them. That it was something new. A new power, bigger than the Den, bigger than the Ghostbloods. The rumors differed on whether it was a good force, or a bad one. What they would do for the community, help or harm. Crow Blackice did not know. And Crow didn't care. Crow looked up at the nearly finished building, a shimmering monument. A white marble, tiny veins of strange black stone running through them. The building was a colossal sight, taking up the space that four massive houses, and their yards, would normally occupy. Thirty floors, some with massive windows, balconies, some completely windowless, some with windows barred, all an ominous sight. The grounds around it surrounded by stone walls, small metal wires covering their surface, and links of spiky metal covering the top. It was all electrified, Crow knew. For all she knew, they might have a defense against Coinshots, Windrunners, and others of that sort. One reliable way in. The massive gate, big enough to let in full semi trucks, but normally shut and electrified even stronger then the walls. But Crow was here to learn. It was time for a grand opening. They would announce what they wanted, they were inviting anyone to come. It was now that they would learn the name of the company, or whatever it was. And now Crow could figure out whether it would help her, help her get revenge on them. The Acutes, the bane of her life. And as Crow sat there, wearing her gray hoodie, black sunglasses, sweatpants, and sneakers, for all anyone could tell a normal person, admittedly one bigger than the average football player, and more muscular. She sat in the driver's seat of the truck, watching carefully. Her armor was in the back, but she had her shardblade, and the warriors lenses she now wore. And as she watched, a massive logo was lifted into place, letters following. The logo was the symbol of the Aes Sedai, but with lightning streaking within the white, and a raging fire contained in the black. And the word, large, PlasmaCore. The 'Plasma' part was white, the 'Core' in black. Crow grinned, watching all the trucks leave, the construction workers taking a bit longer, then following. The building, property of PlasmaCore, was done. The rumors could cease soon. And she could get what she wanted. If she was lucky. Ezra kept his face a cold mask, even though he knew it was covered, as he walked through the city. He walked past building after building, skyscraper, mansion, shack, park. He walked through Hellbent Park, into a rundown area known for a dangerous gang, Bloodflame. He walked out of it, into the area near Alleyzon headquarters, one of their skyscrapers, huge. Past a rich area, all the houses with electricity, outside of the crater. Smaller houses, normal. And at every house, road, wall, park, he left posters. They had forty like him, going through the city, in the night, putting them up everywhere. Each had the same message, a simple thing, telling exactly what it meant, exactly what the purpose was. No color, except the logo at the bottom. Each went: PlasmaCore is now hiring. Unique investiture and powers wanted. Come to the opening party tommorow if interested! Ezra, done with his job, circled back to the PlasmaCore building, entering the gateway at the same time as four others who had finished as well. They entered the front of the building, took an elevator up onto floor seven, and stepping out. This floor was just hallways, all with different elevators. Each locked, needing both a spiritweb scan and a long password to open. All five of them walked to the same, one of them opening it and the others stepped in. The elevator went up, and up, all of them standing there, uniform in black masks, black cloaks, and black hoods, no skin visible, lenses for eyes dark. None spoke, as the elevator slowly went up, resembling a gargoyle more than a human. Finally, it clicked, and they exited, onto Floor Nineteen, Section Four, Clearance Level 12. The room was dark, and the only light came from computer software, and strange glass tubes in the back. Each, in unison, walked to the wall opposite of the cylinders, stripping of the mask, the hood, the cloak, and everything else. It revealed a face with a spike through one eye, in each. The other eye was, in each, an oily black. Each had the left arm and part of their chest covered in strange bone growths. Each had another spike through the heart. But the strangest part was not that. It was the fact that each looked the same, well muscled, but more than that, each the same hair, face, legs, hands. Each a mirror of the others, the only difference between them the number tattooed on the waist, each different. On those there, two, five, seven, eight, and thirteen. Each walked forward, towards a respective tube, numbered like they. The tube opened at the front, and each stepped in. It filled with a light green liquid, and as it reached his face, the slimy substance, warm, touching his chin, E.Z.R.A. Thirteen allowed himself a small smile. Then experience faded. Thirty messagers left the building, each riding a silvery motorcycle with PlasmaCore logo on the side. Each carried three things. A computer chip, with files within, a scroll, covered in writing. And a wristband, covered in strange buttons, with a screen at the top. They split up, each going to a different target, a different guild, business, rich person.. Each asking for funding, in return for information from their research, into investiture and other powers mixing. Ghostbloods, TUBA, Black Crusade, Church of the Whiterose, Craftsmen, Alleyzon, and more. The writing in the scroll was two things. The request itself, and an invitation, which read: Please send a representative, or multiple, to the opening party! The party is tommorow, at midday. PlasmaCore will be happy to have you! The computer chip contained the same writing, but also a map to PlasmaCore headquarters, and a menu of the food available at the party, along with locations for members of each guild to sit, relax, while the party went on. At least forty scientists bustled around the room. Each wore a white lab coat, standard in every way except the PlasmaCore logo. But Bane knew it wasn't real. PlasmaCore. He shook his head. Just another way for power to mask itself. The Bureau was powerful, and this was how it got what it wanted. The room was massive, a whole floor, one of only two floors with one purpose in the entire floor, though one other came close. In the middle, a massive circle was clear, but the edges had strange things, like a Chaos Marine, chained to a wall, his armor beside him, being dissected. His screams were pitiful. On another side, a man was being implanted with spikes. In another, a female epic was creating strange orbs of light. Bane didn't know what the Bureau, and therefore PlasmaCore, wanted with this, he was only Clearance Level Fifteen. You needed at least Sixteen to be told about this project. So Bane just oversaw the scientists. Waiting, watching. While Seb gets to have all the fun in the party. Seb smiled from where he sat off the side of the stage, watching the party unfold. No representatives yet, but it was a half hour before the party even started. One woman from Alleyzon, but that was it in that way. But test subjects? Sebrial chuckled. There was plenty. Subject after subject after subject. And more would arrive. And, as the highest rank besides full Bureau members, I got to stick Bane with the scientists and have fun here. Ah, yes. This was bliss. He took a sip from his drink, a strange, bubbly, purple thing, a mix of some soda and Rosharan violet. And he continued to watch, the massive room with a dance floor in the center, styled after a Roman theatre, so that the stage would echo throughout it all. Layers up the sides, some with seats, some with foods, some with tables, one with massage chairs. And at the top, the area for representatives. It was time.
  5. Several Months After the Events on Aimia Sephtis stood overlooking the Alleycity. The overlook held a few trees, and grass. The last time he had seen it, the Overlook had been barren and rocky. Sephtis had acquired new clothing from the journey from the isolated, guarded island of Aimia. He wore a cloak over his leather garb, adorned with several knives and Kunai. He wore a hood to keep people from noticing his face and his spike. In his journey he was referred to as One-Eye. In a very particular instance the One-Eyed Assassin. A small cremling sat on his shoulder. "Now we just wait until dark." The cremling clicked in response. The Cremiling was Twilight Sky, a Sleepless, an Aimian who helped him escape. "I wonder if anyone remembers me. I have been gone for some time." Sephtis settled under a tree to wait.
  6. main plot

    Hellbent stood on the edge of one of the frozen cliffs of the Goldhaven mountains. "Let it go, let it go, the cold never..." Hellbent paused. That was the wrong universe... Hellbent had shed the title It. Hellbent was Hellbent. He needed revenge on Dusk. Dusk had killed his son. The son he had adopted, the sun he had raised as an heir. And he was dead. Hellbent would pay any price to avenge him. The war would begin, and it would end. And Dusk would pay. This would be the Great Game, where guilds fought guilds, where political machinations met demons and battlefields. The Great Game would let fighting return. As Hellbent stood there, the Alleystorm washed over the mountains. Hellbents warders cloak flapped in the wind. He had three main forms, then 7 modeled after his original body. First, there had been It. It was made to personify his Alleylantrian spike. This form? This form was Mist. Mist was a form of hiding. Mist had a grey face, was easy to overlook, and Mist's warders cloak didn't help you look at it. Mist had violet eyes, but Mist kept it covered. Hellbent liked this form well. As the Alleystorm swept the mountains, Hellbent thought out loud. "I need guilds to fight Dusk and his allies. He has the lifeless, I need to counter that..." Hellbent was compounding luck, letting him survive untouched. And the Alleystorm helped with his compounding. Hellbent used the vast reservoir of stormlight that pulsed through him to create something. A huge tower, Hellbent made it powerful. It was reinforced, made of heavy iron. He soulcast it until he knew it would last. That was where he would start the battle. He would gather his allies, the Dark Alley, the Ghostbloods, the Stickquisition. He needed to win this war. And the True Alley would let him do that. Welcome to the Great Game! This is a new main plot, made in much the same way as the Seven Day War. The difference, is new forces, and different sides. The Great Game is a combination of politics and battle. It takes place all over the Alleyverse. On my side, the side of @Ark1002, the guilds siding with Hellbent, are: Ghostbloods Dark Alley Stickquisition (hopefully more) On the side of @DarthWoodrack, the guilds siding with Dusk are: The Sentinels The Craftsmen TUBA (?) The True Alley (the name of my alliance) is always open to new guilds, or support of a single person. If your guild hasn't joined us, and wants to, just send me a PM with you guild resume! This is the map of the Great Game, I will be posting updated maps if anything changes. This takes place five months after the Ghostblood ball. Have fun slaughtering each other!
  7. Third of the Night strolled into the mansion through the gilded doors, entering onto a platform a cavernous ballroom. The Ghostblood Council had not cut corners in choosing the location for the ball. The mansion, to the far north of the Alleycity, had once been owned by an unaffiliated worldhopper. When the Ghostbloods had shown interest, he had quickly cleared out. Night presented his invitation to a Ghostblood underling and he was announced to the ballroom. “Third of the Night, Ghostblood Representative!” A few of the Homeless looked up, recognizing the name- Night waved to acquaintances and friends. Everyone in the Alleyverse and everyone who classified as one of the Homeless that the Council had been able to reach had been invited to the party to celebrate the start of the 17th year of peace. Night hoped everyone would be able to come. Nin and Hateka, Night’s Aviar, took off. Nin perched on one of the silver chandeliers as Hateka started making lazy circles throughout the room. Night descended one of the staircases to be greeted by another Ghostblood underling. “Welcome to the Ghostblood Ball, sire. Please feel free to wander throughout the mansion as you please. Refreshments will be carried around the main ballroom, but you may visit the banquet hall to your right if you desire more food; and down the hall to your left are some more… private rooms if you wish to keep your conversation away from prying ears.” The underling bowed and stepped back to carry his message to the next guest. Night nodded to the man and smiled at the members of the Ghostblood council. Homeless of every ethnicity, some wearing armor or carrying weapons and some not, talked and danced throughout the ballroom. As a slower song ended, dancers broke up to return to their conversation circles. The musicians, of a band formerly known as MoTab, picked up a fast and catchy tune. Night smiled contentedly. Some were here simply to have a good time, some were here for business, some here for the popularity… and others were here because they saw the signs of things to come in the Alleyverse. The Arena of Valor was open for the first time in sixteen years, and there were rumors of quests regarding the Worldspike. Battles had been fought in remote corners of the Alleyverse. Whispers of powerful armies rising again circulated… in admittedly less-trusted gossip circles. Regardless, old alliances were being reforged, and new rivalries were surfacing. The Ghostblood Ball was but a mask for things much more sinister than it suggested. Grinning, Night waited for more guests to arrive.