xinoehp512

Tam Tarker bounced slightly as he stood shoulder to shoulder with his fellow Hunters. @Channelknight Fadran "Princess?" a voice inquired.

Before...?

A capsule. Food? Perhaps an end? Swallow- The sunlight hit Xino like a waterfall. He gasped as the world swam back into view. Where... where was he? He remembered the games starting, remembered running to the Cornucopia - but after that, everything was a blur. He remembered climbing a tree and then falling out of it, and... had he allied with the District 10 girl, Vapor? He seemed to be at her campsite, and he wasn't dead yet. Maybe she'd be better able to tell him what had happened.

He left it where he last lived.

In the end... Yes.

When the darkness comes, and you know that there is no one that can help you What is there to do?

Do you know what it means to be <alone>?

The withergeists have been active as of late. Reports of attacks come in every day now, and the hunters are struggling to keep up. One group in particular has taken on a job not too far from the capital... @Channelknight Fadran

Exactly? I do not know. I never thought to ask the question. After... it was too late.

Daeron Nihadar observed the withergeist carefully as its face began to melt. One could never be too careful, when dealing with these sorts of beings. They may not have had much when it came to intelligence, but they understood death as well as any animal and took it about half as well. Daeron was fairly confident this one didn't have any powers of significance- hence why he was deconstructing it - but he'd been wrong before. The dying withergeist twitched slightly. Daeron instinctively tightened his grip on his staff, increasing his mental pressure, but the withergeist made no further moves. Within moments, its form had dissolved completely, leaving behind only a dirty grey sludge. Shadow Essence. Daeron nodded with satisfaction, carefully lifting the remnants from the table and floating it over to a pot filled with the stuff. Daeron allowed himself a brief moment of longing, then turned to the next withergeist the Snatchers had brought in. Another emotional manipulator. He sighed. He detested working with these sorts of withergeists; they never behaved like they were supposed to. Getting what he wanted out of one of these would likely be the work of an hour at least, filled with failures and frustration. He would have scrapped them all for Essence if they hadn't been so useful. Before he could start his work, however, he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Daeron frowned, reaching out with the staff to identify which of the Corrupted dared disturb him in his work. He quickly identified the interloper as Nezrin Pyx. A senior Corrupted- one of the Snatchers. If he was interrupting, it was probably for a good reason. Daeron stood up and opened the door. Nezrin immediately bowed. "Lord Nihadar. Void bless you. My party, we were investigating the contents of an abandoned library and... we found something." He raised his hands above his head, offering up their contents to Daeron. A scroll, yellowed with age, barely strong enough to hold together. Daeron took it, curious, and carefully unrolled it. As he read, his eyebrows furrowed, then raised, then stretched upwards. "Is this legitimate?" he murmured. "Much of the information it contains we have confirmed prior," Nezrin replied. "It stands to reason the rest would be accurate as well." Daeron fell silent. This scroll... if he could make what was described within it reality, no longer would he have to scrounge for scraps of power. Instead, he would feast. As his eyes fell on a box on the lower left corner of the sheet, however, his eyes narrowed. Was that a power requirement? It seemed to be a rather large number. As he ran some calculations in his head, his heart sank. Even with all the withergeists and Corrupted at his fingertips combined, he didn't have even a tenth of the amount written. "Thank you, Nezrin," he replied. "You may return to your duties." As the man took one last bow and departed, Daeron sank back into his chair to think. He needed to perform this ritual. Abandoning this opportunity was simply unthinkable. That left only one question: how in the name of the Void was he going to get enough Shadow Essence to power it all? His eyes scanned his worktable, covered in the debris of countless experiments. And, as he did so, an idea began to form... Darkness breeds darkness, he thought. It was time to come out of the shadows.

"At the horn. A ghost."

Xino laughed desperately. "The ghost, the ghost. I killed them."

Yes. I can... influence him. He does not want that.

Xino shuddered. "Oh stars, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it, I III"

The Darkness approached him. Enticed him. I tried to interfere, but... I failed. And so he became the Witherlord.

He is my avatar; I cannot leave him. But yes, he was alone. And because of that, so was I.

Solitude.

The Witherlord's face darkened. "We will see." With a clench of his fist, the mordite blade melted, collapsing into a hole in reality. The binding holding the Witherlord shattered as he fell into the Void. Yes. I did not... anticipate what would happen. It was not something I could understand, as I was.

Now, can you tell me the name of Xinoehp's spear of ice?

The Witherlord took a step forwards towards Nameless, no longer moving slowly. The world darkened. "Your plan has failed," he said. "But my offer still stands. Join me." Tiny black drops of ink fell from the survey like tears. White streaks appeared, creating impressions. A figure kneeling, alone. It started small, X explained.

"I killed someone," Xino said. "Isn't that strange?"

It happened on pages 1556, 1557, and 1558. It was a fight between two Narrators. In its aftermath Survivor #655 was born, raised, and disillusioned.

Nothing happened. Nameless's blade turned to point at the intruder as the Witherlord got to his feet. "Blight take you!" the Knight declared in fury. "I told you you needed to focus on your strengths. Restore it now-" "No," said the voice of Professor Jones. "This battle is over. End the binding, now- before he destroys it." {The Void of Solitude}

[Darkness] The Mordite blade froze in place an inch away from the Witherlord's chest. -- The Knight cursed. "No, no, no, no, no!"

[I feel] X's avatar coughed. Then coughed again. It turned into a chuckle, then a laugh, and then a cackle. "You... [cough] have failed again, Nameless."