[EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Lady Kitsune on 26-05-2011, 07:51:22</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>[EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 07:51:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Hades’ Arena</span></span><br>(http://[url=http://wallpaperswide.com/thumbs/mortal_kombat_kahn_arena-t2.jpg]http://wallpaperswide.com/thumbs/mortal_kombat_kahn_arena-t2.jpg[/url])</div><br><strong><em>In the&nbsp; deep wastes of Hell, stands a colosseum (http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2724/4038401452_5a7f18433f.jpg) two hundred feet high, a lone structure in the middle of a wind blasted land forsaken.&nbsp; Nothing grows and nothing is hidden.&nbsp; Bones of gargantuan beasts long dead decorate the surrounding plains and the blood orange cracked earth screams for a drop of water that will never come.&nbsp; A graying sun shines high in a garish green sky, its light nothing more than an illusion.&nbsp; When night falls, the land is swathed in an ink black blanket and light suffocates to breath.&nbsp; &nbsp;The torches of the structure are lit and it is an oasis in the darkness….or is it.<br></em></strong><br><br>The rumbling and stamping of bloodthirsty spectators came through the open doors of the balcony.&nbsp; The balcony that Balthazar (http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs45/f/2009/091/d/a/demon_lord_by_heise.jpg), Arena Master would make his appearance.&nbsp; For now, he let them wait.&nbsp; The Princes, the slaves and all the hardened denizens of Hell who bothered to make the dangerous trek across the desert.&nbsp; Let them wait.&nbsp; None could supplant him and none would dare to try.&nbsp; Only the Lord of Hell himself could do so.&nbsp; Besides, it was a punishment for him to endure here until he was released.&nbsp; It was much safer for all if he was the Arena Master.&nbsp; Released from his prison for a crime he had yet to admit to, he would once more terrorize the world and no one in Heaven nor Hell would be safe from his thirst for blood.&nbsp; Still he could have had worse punishments and this one afforded him moments of pleasure.<br><br>Pleasure he was partaking in at the moment with whip in hand.&nbsp; With a sharp tipped grin, he raised the whip and brought it down on the slave splayed out spread eagle on a rack he had specially designed for his chambers.&nbsp; She was lovely and had a very nice scream but had no flair for the arena.&nbsp; Slaves needed a purpose, hers was to be his whipping girl, even if it meant until she bled for him.&nbsp; <br><br>He slipped closer, careful to keep his silk robe from touching her bleeding thighs.&nbsp; He ran a finger through the split welts, her whimpers music to his ears.&nbsp; He wondered if her head hanging of the rack was discomfiting in the steel mask she wore.&nbsp; As he put his finger to his lips a sharp hiss sounded and Balthazar made a face.<br><br>“Out with it, Shroika,” he said, giving the snakelike servant leave to speak.<br><br>“Massssssster, the crowd hungers for blood.&nbsp; It isssssss time.”<br><br>Balthazar flicked his fingers and the servant slammed against the wall, hands at its throat.&nbsp; The panicked hissing and struggling did not stop as the Arena Master put his hands to his temple and rubbed them.<br><br>“Do not presume to tell me when it is time but I suppose it is, so I will go.”&nbsp; The servant was released from the wall where it slid to sitting and panted it’s apologies.<br><br>Balthazar slipped his silk robe from his body, standing in his nude glory.&nbsp; He was a marvelous specimen of human perfection.&nbsp; Long silken black hair and a toned body, lithe and athletic.&nbsp; He was the envy of any human male and the desire of its females, or vice versa depending.&nbsp; &nbsp;This, of course was not one of his true forms.&nbsp; No matter how pretty he looked, he was still a monster to his core.&nbsp; As he walked to the balcony, his form became larger, shifting.&nbsp; It was a mere fluid seconds and in the place of the man was now a beast (http://s566.photobucket.com/albums/ss106/Spazguy55/?action=view&amp;current=DarknessLord.jpg&amp;newest=1).&nbsp; Huge and impressive he struck fear into most demons and the stupid ones tried not to respect him.&nbsp; Great curving ram’s horns and a skeletal visage to bring nightmares to life.&nbsp; His Armor was made from great serpents killed by his own hand and decorated with the souls of his enemies.&nbsp; The crimson cloak that draped his shoulders, shifted and moved and as he stepped into the ugly light of the Arena, a great cheer arose.&nbsp; The cloak snapped open and spread out to reveal great leathery wings that stretched outward with gleaming fearsome talons upon the ends.&nbsp; <br><br>“Greetings.&nbsp; Tonight is special as we have guests of Honor.&nbsp; The Princes have deigned to join us,” he began with a nod to the&nbsp; Princes.&nbsp; Inside he was rolling his eyes.&nbsp; He grinned, the smile stretching across his face like a grimace of pain.&nbsp; “So for these honored guests, I have something quite special.&nbsp; New slaves for the Arena.&nbsp; Since I am a demon of few words….let the pain begin!”<br><br>Balthazar took his place on his throne of bleeding bones and watched the proceedings of which, the new slaves were brought out to be introduced by the Arena master of ceremonies.&nbsp; A small demon imp that looked like a cross between a goat and a catfish with horns.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ironwolf85</strong> on <strong>26-05-2011, 20:28:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His cycle spit up the lifeless grey sand behind it, the ashen wastes of this dead land. Sergio loathed it. Riding towards the dull light his sidecar filled with packages to be dropped off to their respective owners, one for the princes, and one for the Arena Master.<br>The Houndlike primal covered his eyes with goggles, the scorched wastes illuminated by the headlight, why anyone would bother to place a city out here... but then again Hades was not exactly a logical place. Nor were it's residents.<br>"Tannari..." demons of the waste, eastern culture, they burst from their hiding places beneath the scorched land, several of them. their tywisted visages hidden behind turbans and ragged facecloths. black eyes and grey faces, a pair of grey horns bursting from the sides of their headgear to point upward.<br>they came armed with crude blades they'd made from the scraps of iron and other metals, dashing across the wastes at suprising speed.<br>Sergio tightened his armored grip on the bike, speeding along as they followed, one pulling alongside to try and attack the travler, it raised it's sword.<br>Sergio was faster, it's chest blossemed with a shot from a handgun, most of the residents disregarded modern devices, prefering the tried and true methods of killing each other. Sergio did not care, weapons were weapons.<br>the explosion was enough to send the others scattering for a moment. the leather clad hellhound knew their tactic, he turned as the wastes in front of him erupted with a barbed net. He smirked as another leapt at him, he caught the creature with his teeth, black blood spraying to be lapped up by the wastelands. They tasted terrible, as he exected, he let go and the creature tropped to the dirt flopping as he rode on.<br>He was approaching the city wall, a great crude thing made in roman style, patched adn repatched over thousands of years. the last two actually made an attempt on bhis live, blade bared coming at him from both sides. he grabed one by it's horns, and the other by the flat of it's blade, and placed one upon the other as gruesomely as possable. battle made his temper flare, his hair glowing with luminecent fire as they were knocked off balance.<br>His vehicle passed through the gates, the rest of the raiders backed off, slinking back into the scorched wastes before the black armored guards could perforate them with crossbows and wall mounted machine guns.<br>yeah... bombards and heavy weapons had been adopted for seiges, the demons had a thing for "firey things that go boom and cause misery" especally when they could blast through walls and normal armor, even if not the "great equalizers" they were on the mortal planes.<br>he handed the bag to one of the princal flunkies, put his hand cannon away, and simply strolled into the nearest tavern. "Dead Man's Rest"<br>Not that it was uneventful, on the way, he saw a few of the damned brutalizing each other, as they often did, as a primal he didn't give a damn.<br>a single woman cried out, reaching for him as her rapist grabbed her by the ponytail, Sergio shruged, whipped his axe from his back, and planted it in bald bastard's bare chest.<br>he looked down at her his eyes glowing softly. "congrats new girl, concider this your one freebee, now get yourself a weapon before it happens again."<br>He shruged, and kicked in the door to the Dead Mans's Rest.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 01:05:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div align="center"><strong>A Dream</strong></div><br>An idyllic landscape of rolling green hills, spotted here and there with massive oaks, spreads seemingly forever. Gentle breezes pull small white clouds across a vividly blue sky. A dirt path cuts through the hills, leading to a small valley marked by a standing stone. The stone is adorned with intricate carved knots and loops, all coinciding around a crude representation of an antlered man. The man himself leans over the altar before it, laying into the pale breasted brunette spread upon it.<br><br>She cries out many times, experiencing pleasures she will never be able to describe. The sun sets and rises, and the frenzied coupling continues outside the bounds of time. The antlered man angles the woman's legs up, holding her ankles by his ears, and the two groan in unison. The valley is as it always has been, green and warm, with the occasional breeze carrying the scent of the distant ocean.<br><br>The man is climbing onto the back of a huge stag. The girl is beside him, hastily pulling a peasant dress over her swollen belly.<br><br>"Lord Cernunnos? Why must you always leave so hastily?"<br><br>He looks down, she has such large, innocent brown eyes.<br><br>"There are many preparations to be made for our return, my beloved. I cannot tarry long in this valley."<br><br>She stares at her belly, stroking it idly, "When the Fay return, I shall be your queen."<br><br>He reaches down and takes her hand, kissing it with a smile, "Beloved, when we return, you shall be at my side until the world's end."<br><br>The girl is alone in a field of green.<br><br><div align="center"><strong>The Dreamscape</strong></div><br>Sand and whorls and whips across dunes as massive as they are ancient. In an instant they become massive waves cresting in some otherworldly ocean, and then buffeting clouds of smoke. Nothing is ever distinct for too long in the space between dreams. The only constant is the raging storm that rips between sleeping minds.<br><br>The stag walks, hovering a few feet from the surface of the storm, the occasional wave&nbsp; washing over one of its hooves. He and his master seem impervious to the gale whipping through the Dreamscape. Another figure approaches, horned and winged, staggering through the raging dreamstuff. The stag stops, and turns with a snort to the approaching figure (http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2010/310/1/7/imp_by_scottpurdy-d32ajq5.jpg).<br><br>"My liege, I have done as you asked," he shouts over the gale whirling around them, "Your suspicions were well founded, my liege. The soldier has turned. No horror of mine will convince him."<br><br>Antlers fall from the man, crumbing and vanishing in the chaos below, and the stag, which is not a stag, but a bestial black horse (http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs37/i/2008/272/f/b/The_Nightmare_by_Vyrilien.jpg), turns baleful white eyes on the newcomer, watching the incubus's every move. Asmodeus smiles, black riding cloak bursting forth in the wind.<br><br>"Your service is appreciated, Clovus, though I do not recall asking you to interrogate him yourself," The Prince says, a finger to his mouth, head cocked in recollection. The imp bows, and is nearly washed away by a passing wave.<br><br>"Forgive me, my liege, I thought only to be thorough in my duties." The Prince smiles and nods.<br><br>"Very well, return to Hades, your concubine awaits."<br><br>The imp snarls, teeth glistening in a hungry grin, he disappears.<br><br>"Come, Phobetor." He whispers to the beast, and it trots onwards, mane whipping in the wind.<br><br>Clovus is too stupid to craft a worthy nightmare, the main reason Asmodeus had brought him into the ranks of the incubi. Keeping track of the others' deceptions is a chore, and the dream Prince has little patience to pick through lies when they pertain to tidings of great consequence. He will need to visit the young Lieutenant soon, but he senses no presence of the man in the Dreamscape. The fool Clovus has awoken him with his crude ministrations, the man's fear was too tempting. He closes his eyes, and calls up Clovus's concubine, a replica of the girl he'd crudely slain weeks ago, silly that such a spiteful beast should be so sentimental. She was tending to him now, lips wrapped around his putrid member.<br><br>"This should be simple." Asmodeus licks his lips.<br><br>The sinks her teeth into the imp's flesh, tearing away his manhood with gnashing teeth and spitting it to the floor. Clovus shrieks and scoops up his own slippery flesh as the woman's face rots away from the bone. Her skull whispers huskily at the shrieking imp, <br><br>"Do not forget your place as courier, Clovus. Feed when you are bid feed, or the master shall flense the stinking flesh from your bones, and cook your liver in your own boiling blood." <br><br>The vision fades, and the imp clutches at himself. He is whole again. He sobs and prostrates himself pathetically to the empty room.<br><br>"Forgiveness, forgiveness!" He pleads.<br><br>Asmodeus smiles within his wind whipped cowl. Clovus will remember his place yet. A chiming tune (http://youtu.be/5Z8VCiguTPQ) sounds from within his cloak. He retrieves a small gold watch on a thin chain. He flicks it open, noting the time with a sigh. So soon already? Asmodeus hates to leave the Dreamscape, usually sending out illusory doppelgangers to do his work at home in Hades. He needs to be at the Colosseum in person today if his machinations are to come properly to fruition. Besides, the other Princes are always a delight to play with, and he was brimming with energy from his long feed here in the sleeping world.<br><br>He sweeps his hand and another rider forms out of the swirling dreamstuff, a mirror image of the Prince.<br><br>"Carry on here, you know your tasks. Come to me when the Lieutenant returns, I must deal with him personally."<br><br>The mirror Prince bows his head, hand over his heart, and a torrent of dreamstuff washes over them. Both are gone.<br><br><div align="center"><strong>Hades</strong></div><br>Phobetor trots over the blighted sands of hell, Asmodeus's massive hooded bodyguards (http://th02.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/i/2010/249/f/d/_executioner__by_biohazardmonster-d2y6fhg.jpg) lumber silently on either side of the Prince. The dream energy he carries with him bounds forth, escaping from his psyche in fleeting illusions. Small luminous clouds drift around the dream Prince. In an instant they are silky egg sacks bursting with many legged young who cast their strands to the wind, floating away... as a swarm of brightly colored birds who flit back and forth around the Prince like hoverflies. He is drawing near one of the Colosseum's many gates, and can hear the hooting and howling of the bestial masses ahead. Asmodeus knows how he'll spend his pent up energy. It's been a long time since the dream Prince returned in person, a spectacle is in order.<br><br>The crowd parts around the small procession, eyeing the dark rider hungrily. He casts his cloak into the air and it spreads, billowing over the crowd like a circus tent. A bounty of food and treasure rains from the ceiling, and the crowd cheers, gathering up coins, meat and wine skins in a frenzy. Asmodeus smiles at their perverse hunger, and gestures with his arm, exotic dancers burst from the ground and pirouette into the crowd. They are quickly snatched up by the revelers, and Asmodeus laughs gleefully as he watches the the hungry legion spill their blood and entrails in a frenzy, mounting still warm corpses with lusty howls. It will be some time yet before they realize the flesh they are squabbling over is far less real than it tastes. He doubts any of them will care. He rides through the gates of the Colosseum and dismounts, reaching into a pocket to produce something red and wriggling. He feeds it to the horse and pats its snout. A servant leads it to the stable.<br><br>Asmodeus and his guards silently climb the steps to the Princes' box. He takes his seat and signals an imp over. The cowering servant hobbles over, bearing a goblet of wine. The imp sips from the cup, and Asmodeus watches him cringe, fully expecting the Prince's drink to be poisoned. He offers the cup with shaking hands, and the Prince sips. It is good. A roar echoes through the Arena, and Asmodeus turns to see Balthazar emerging onto the Arena Master's balcony. He laughs, and the imp at his side flinches away.<br><br>"Such a brutish display, don't you think?"<br><br>The imp knows better than to answer. The hooded guards stand silently at attention.<br><br><em>“Greetings. Tonight is special as we have guests of Honor. The Princes have deigned to join us,”</em> He nods toward the box and grins,<em> "So for these honored guests, I have something quite special. New slaves for the Arena. Since I am a demon of few words…let the pain begin!"</em><br><br>The crowd roars again with renewed frenzy, and Asmodeus leans forward in his seat, hand at his mouth in a display of youthful apprehension.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FallenFeather</strong> on <strong>27-05-2011, 08:29:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Liliana Vess sat in the corner of the cell under the coliseum. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t moving in the slightest. It took a lot of staring and squinting to even make out that she was breathing. The rise and fall of her chest was barely visible, despite that she was taking deep long breaths. It was unclear whether she was mediating or merely just thinking to anyone looking at her. Vess was disturbingly quiet and still compared to the slaves around. Most were yelling, some were crying, a few were laughing. But through all the noise, Vess was silent and still. Also unlike most, she was still in her human form, feeling her demon form completely unnecessary at the time. There were a few that were in their hulky, giant forms, attempting to use their physical qualities to break out of their cells. Vess knew it would be no use. This wasn’t the human world where it was much easier to break out of a cell. No, she learned that once you were in here, the only way to get out was if someone let you out, and that the possibility of that happening was extremely unlikely.<br><br><br>Pieces of her mistakes flashed through her mind and a few times she winced. She kept telling herself that none of it was her fault. Things were going so perfectly. She had snuck into the palace without any issues and was upon the sleeping Prince. She had even made sure that it was the real one and not a replacement. Her blade would’ve struck true if it hadn’t been for two other assassins that stumbled into the room fairly noisily. The Prince awoke and moved barely just in time to avoid her weapon from striking the killing blow. Of course, she got the brunt of the rage at that moment, being the one closest. Vess could still feel his grip on her neck as he literally pushed her through a wall. No matter how she struggled, she hadn’t been able to escape his grip. The other assassins had been easily taken down the guards, but it seemed the Prince was more intent on her at the moment. <br><br>Vess had awoken some time later, chained to a column. She hadn’t even remembered passing out at any point before. The demoness couldn’t even figure out how long ago that was. She was battered, bruised and cut, but otherwise seemed to not have sustained any other injuries or humiliations. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as noise caught her attention. She looked up through a swollen eye to see what the commotion was. Seemed like some girl was getting ravaged by the Prince. Vess shook her aching head and concentrated more of her energy on healing herself. A guard nearby sneered and mentioned she should watch and get accustomed to it since it’ll be her turn at some point in the arena. Vess nearly ripped her own flesh out get at the guard.<br><br>Next thing she knew, she was in this cell underneath the coliseum. She could feel the weight of the repressing magic of the place. Instantly she could tell that she wouldn’t be at top performance. Regardless, she could still easily take down most of these brutes in these cells. They were nothing more than just muscle and it took more than just brute strength to best Vess. She was too quick to be caught like that. The woman rubbed her neck at the thought. The Prince had been quick and strong: a very dangerous combination, especially for her, who relied entirely on speed and stealth. It was true, once caught, there was indeed little she could do to escape. The trick was catching her.<br><br>Vess sighed and finally opened her eyes. The cells had gone quiet and the woman listened to figure out why. She could hear the crowd cheering wildly; seemed like something was going to start soon. A loud voice cut through the crowd’s cheers, announcing that the games would start soon as well as there were Prince’s there. Vess’s blood grew cold and she froze. Prince’s? Was that one here too? Her fists clenched and she ground her teeth. Something told her nothing good was going to happen today.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelicBlade</strong> on <strong>28-05-2011, 04:51:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Zehair winced at a torturer finished whipping him with a crude spiked bonny whip, the blades where about three inches deep and left deep wounds that took a short time for Zehair to heal but that only made him this torturers favorite speciemen. Two guards pulled the hooks out of Zehair's hands and let him drop to the floor in pain then quickly grabbed his arms and yanked him up. The experience was unpleasant but barable to Zehair. He was used to the pain and suffering this place had put upon him. Being an ex-archangel most slaves hated him and wanted to attack him just because of his history. Zehair smiled as the guards started to drag him back to the cells.<br><br>The screams and yells of the demons and demoness' amuses Zehair in a way. It was the only pleasure he allowed himself while in the cell. Zehair looked up from the ground as the guards stopped. His cell wasn't here, why had they stopped? The guards dropped him and one pulled out a vile of a blackish liquid. "Drink up wretch." The one with the vile held it up to his face while the other punched him in the gut causing Zehair to let out a groan from the pain. While his mouth was open The other quickly emptied the vile down his throat. Zehair coughed a few times before his vision became blurred. "*cough* Heh, poisen eh? What's wrong? Can't get me killed without cheating? Heh heh. . . ungh. . ." The guards laughed and one made his hand into a fist and hit his check with the back of it. "Shut it worm, no one gave to permission to talk." The other one chuckled and a smirk appeared across it's face. "Now, now. We could kill you if we wanted. But this way it's much better. We get to see you get teared to pieces as someone slowly rips you apart. And beside we got a lot of money placed on the fella you're fightin' so we need ya to die."<br><br>Zehair grunted as the two guards preceded to beat then grabbed his arms and yanked him up again dragging him towards the stairs. At the very bottom with the rest of the slaves was where he was held. When they reached the stairs the guards looked at eachother and smiled tossing him down them and laughing as Zehair tumbled down the stairs. At the bottom Zehair coughed up blood and some of the black liquid. The guards came down the stairs and yanked his aching body up causing him to yell out in pain as he had broken several bones on the way down. The two guard laughed as Zehair stared at the ground breathing heavily. They then yanked him into a standing position and pushed him forward. Zehair stumbled forward and fell to the ground in front of Vess's cell. He looked up at he and smiled lightly as the guards stomped on him then picked him up. "Keep moving , you filthy worm!" Zehair struggled to his feet and walked over to the empty cell next to hers and the guard pushed him into it slamming the door.<br><br>Zehair crawled over to the wall and sat up. His cuts on his back though still bleeding seemed to be almost closed. His angelic traits stayed with him even though he wasn't holy anymore. He looked over at Vess then around the room at the howling demons wasting strength trying to break from their cells. A pity none of these demons will last as long as Zehair has. He looked over at Vess again and smiled at her. "I assuming you'll last longer than most. Since you're the only. . . well almost the only cool headed one here. My names Zehair." He turned the front of his body to her grunting slightly as his body still ached from his merciless beating. He had hole just below his neck. The hole swirled with the most of unholy energies and a large number four burned into his pale while skin just left of the hole. Zehair cleared his throat silently as he heard the racket going on up stairs. As he heard that the princes were here his eyes seemed to fill with hatred and a dark aura grew around his body powerful enough for the demons around his cell to feel. She stood and grabbed the bars of his cell and listened to the announce as he talked and an grin crossed his face. "Looks like it's time to have fun. He looked over at Vess. "Hope I wont have to kill you. It would be a shame to kill someone as young as you."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil1989</strong> on <strong>28-05-2011, 05:19:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adam Jefferson sighed heavily, hating how things had wound up as he sat in a cell that was underneath the Colosseum of Pain.&nbsp; This reminded him a little too much of Gladiator considering he was waiting for his chance to prove himself in the Arena as Maximus had so he could get a shot at killing the corrupt Emperor.&nbsp; Of course, in the movie the Colosseum hadn't been located in Hell, and the 'Emperor' wasn't the Prince of Lies himself who was all but immortal anyway most likely, so trying to assassinate such a powerful being was a pipe dream at best.&nbsp; Besides, he couldn't ever get close to him even if he wanted to considering he had sold his soul, foolishly, for revenge, a fact he was paying for every minute of his new demonic existence.&nbsp; Even so, things weren't all that bad.&nbsp; He had a lot of power behind him now, and while he was still learning to control them, having only been here little less than a month, Adam couldn't help but grin as he opened up his demonic wings fully, examining his bulging muscular body that allowed him far superior strength to a normal human being.&nbsp; All in all, ironically enough, he had moved up in the Underworld, but he still hated the fact he was almost always horny as a teenager on crack.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lore</strong> on <strong>29-05-2011, 01:35:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sarathiel<br>-----------<br><br>Wherever she landed, it was cold, hard and wet. Dense gray putrid fog rolled up from the slick stony ground.&nbsp; As soon as a shrill scream died in the distance, another rose in bitter chorus to take its place. Their wretched song was the only reminder that she wasn't alone in the rise and recession of the pitch black and frigid nights. She sat, unmoving, for what felt like ages with her knees held to her chest, and eyes boring into the shifting curtain of impenetrable mist.&nbsp; <br><br>When they'd stolen her away in the dark, and prodded at her with vicious interrogations for her name, she had responded with a vacant listless smile, and a voice as smooth as coils of rising smoke: "Sara". It seemed appropriate to abandon her former title in the muck of the lowly hell where she captured and collared. Her enslavement marked the end of her hopes to return home. Now, as she paced impatiently about her cell, she could only hope for an end. <br><br>Fear was an unfamiliar and heady drug. Rather then chase it from the depths of her narrow chest, Sara allowed it to grow and fester - to take root and firmly plant both it and herself in the surreal moment. New sensations flooded her wiry limbs and crept along the curve of her spine down her toned legs to her small bare feet. It was as being newly awoken. Every detail of the Colosseum registered in exaggerated&nbsp; detail: the enthralled cries of the spectators, the scent of dried blood and decay, the grit of the bars against the soft palms of her hands, and the blistering heat playing at her flesh. The new inductee to the demon world and even newer slave gripped at her cage, smiling faintly at the glimpses of chaos above. <br><br>After withering for what felt like an eternity in the dank lower reaches of Hell, the change of scenery, albeit as grizzly and repulsive as it was, was welcome. Sara expected to be given a short reprieve from her stay in Hell in death - either in the arena or at the hands of some sadist demon master with a predictably fiendish blood lust. So be it. She was tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of waiting. Tired of drowning in waves of self loathing. She'd slipped into a numbed slumber, but the promise of a brief release, even in a fleeting demise, had returned an unearthly smile to her lips. <br><br>She was a peculiar sight - petite and porcelain, but exploring the limits of her cell like a caged lion. Her creamy skin was streaked with the odd smear or dirt and dried blood. And her once white cloth wrappings were grayed and stained just the same. Golden curls, though disheveled, were pinned atop her head, exposing the lengths of her elegant neck bearing the collar that marked her new status. <br><br>When she heard a familiar voice from the next cell address an adjacent slave, her smile took on another character entirely. Even through the throws of his taint, she recognized her former ally. "Zehair." She beamed, as if their meeting was an entirely happy occasion. She shifted to their shared bars and gripped them, still grinning. "Brother, I do believe I must you to credit with my presence here. I think they hope for me to follow in your infamous footsteps, and take up the mantle of fallen champion. A tidy sum was made upon the sale of my head with such aspirations." Her good spirits went entirely unexplained until she leaned closer, dropping her voice a few registers. <br><br>"If I am to meet my end today, let it be by your hand." The light drained from her features as her expression became near imploring. It wasn't a request she made lightly, but one for which she'd be truly grateful if honored. The Arena Master's announcement had stolen away some of her former peace, but she tempered her fear with long steady breaths as she eased away from the bars and toward her<em> debut</em>. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>29-05-2011, 16:43:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashakiel walked stiffly.&nbsp; She may now be a slave but in no way was she going to go hurtling to her doom with an easy step.&nbsp; Despite the tension in&nbsp; her body, she moved like a sinuous panther, the soft soft sway of her hips more than noticeable in her rags.&nbsp; Beautiful layers of silk, hung upon her body, torn to pieces and gaping when it shouldn't.&nbsp; stained in her own blood and looking like something the cat dragged in, the swelling of her eye doing nothing to deter the beauty of her face or the determined look of anger.&nbsp; She held her head high as if she were attending a social event and when the guards thrust her into her cell, the chains clanking as she tripped forward.&nbsp; Managing to right herself before she sprawled onto the dirt floor, she spun and glared at them.<br><br>"Don't give us that look, Miss High and Mighty.&nbsp; No one is going to sympathize with you here.&nbsp; No more good life for you.&nbsp; All your friends have abandoned you but if you are are good, I'll be your friend," one of the guards said, fondling her breasts.&nbsp; She spat in his face and he backhanded her for her insolence and she went sprawling in the dirt she had moments ago tried to avoid.&nbsp; "Bitch!&nbsp; Don't think I won't remember.&nbsp; Lucky your sweet little ass can't be trifled with 'til the Slave Masters get their hooks into you first.&nbsp; Make nice to the rats."<br><br>She had sat up and watched them go, fire in her eyes and a slight chill forming in the air about her.&nbsp; Her body was testimony t aches and pains never before visited upon her and standing once more was a chore.&nbsp; Still, she would not show weakness.&nbsp; Not here, not ever.&nbsp; She touched her face tentatively and winced at the sharp pain.&nbsp; It would bruise and this damn collar was inhibiting her powers.&nbsp; Everything dampened exponentially.&nbsp; She couldn't even shift into her demonic form which would give her the strength to break the magicked chains.&nbsp; She tugged on it angrily, desperately but to no avail.<br><br>She began to pace the room, shivering with every step.&nbsp; The pain was horrible.&nbsp; Her lower extremities protested the movement but she refused to acknowledge it at all.&nbsp; She ran a hand through her dark locks, annoyed when one of the chains hit her forehead.&nbsp; "I'll kill him.&nbsp; I'll kill then all," she muttered like a mantra.<br><br>Her head lifted as she finally looked to see where she was and who she shared her fate with.&nbsp; She saw two who seemed to know each other, another demoness who seemed vaguely familiar.&nbsp; She just couldn't place where.&nbsp; She remained silent.&nbsp; She was of the noble houses and did not associate with the lower denizens of hell.&nbsp; She clutched her torn clothing tighter to her body.&nbsp; She only had to fight her way out of this pit and when she did, she was going to make for damn sure to take her vengeance.&nbsp; On them all.&nbsp; Every last Prince will die for the death of her father and then Ashakiel will be the one to rule the houses of the Prince.&nbsp; All she needed was a little patience.<br><br>A slow smiled graced her beautiful and battered face but it was not one meant to shine or bless with happiness.&nbsp; No, the smile was wicked and held nothing but evil intentions.&nbsp; One would almost flinch from such a wintry smile.&nbsp; Her mind flashed and she she found herself kneeling before that dark Prince, her mouth full as he humiliated her in front of the court before he turned her over onto her hands and knees.&nbsp; The vision changed and now the Prince was on his knees and in her hand a burning sword.&nbsp; Yes, that is what she would do. She was laughing now, the sound just this side of hysterical.&nbsp; When the last of the laughter died from her lips, she stood at center and ready, the fires of Hell itself burning in her eyes.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil1989</strong> on <strong>30-05-2011, 02:51:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Take it easy lady, some of us would rather die in peace than have to hear you laugh like a maniac."&nbsp; Adam said, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his demonic six pack chest as he waited for the pain to begin, but it wouldn't be his own if he could help it.&nbsp; He hadn't found his balls until AFTER he had sold his soul into eternal damnation, go figure, or he probably wouldn't be in the mess he was in now.&nbsp; Regardless, he was here now, and he wasn't going to put up with some lunatic demoness not three cells away from him.&nbsp; "I don't know who you are, but you obviously have a royal stick up your kiester, so I'm guessing if given a chance you could tear me in half, but down here, you're the same as the rest of us lower life forms.&nbsp; I am curious however, what would a royal bitch be doing down here?&nbsp; Before you start yelling and screaming, I've only been a demon a month, so the rules I could care less for right now or your previous status, whatever that might have been, so your threats wouldn't bother me as it might others.&nbsp; Call me a fool mortal, it's all the same to me since we're both prisoners here."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>31-05-2011, 04:52:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashakiel turned to the voice that dared to speak to her.&nbsp; She looked down her nose at the demon who spoke.&nbsp; "Ah, I see," she said as if her one glance had explained it all.&nbsp; She stepped closer to the cage bars.&nbsp; A new demon.&nbsp; The kind that either did something so heinous...say like sell their soul or was a terrible murderer.&nbsp; She sneered.&nbsp; Something she manged to look quite sexy.&nbsp; She just had those kind of lips where anything would look good.&nbsp; "My, my.&nbsp; Fresh meat in Hell.&nbsp; Tell me, Man.&nbsp; Do you enjoy the strengths of demons?&nbsp; Does it make you happy?"<br><br>She didn't care one way or the other.&nbsp; She was about to make a point.&nbsp; One he obviously had yet to experience here in the depths of Hell.&nbsp; "No matter what my new status is, there will always be a difference between you and I.&nbsp; I am a true demon, a descendant of the Fallen.&nbsp; You, you make me laugh.&nbsp; I won't be here long and when I go it will be because I will take my place once more in the ruling of hell."<br><br>No, she wasn't going to sit in this humiliating cell longer than she had to.&nbsp; <br><br>Before she could say more and she was want to say more.&nbsp; The SlaveMaster's groomers came in.&nbsp; A myriad of male and female slaves who did nothing more than wash and oil the new slaves bodies.&nbsp; They clothed them in outfits that were suited to each demon kind.&nbsp; One twittered on about how it would be soon.&nbsp; How they were so lucky to be presented before the Prince.&nbsp; When all was said and done, someone murmured about how the slavemasters awaited them in the Arena.&nbsp; Must be nice to pass through the bars like a ghost, Ashakiel thought as the last demon passed through the bars.<br><br>She was now clothed in what amounted to a leather harness and strips of black silk.&nbsp; Normally , she might have actually admired it but whatever fear she felt clenching her belly had nothing on her need for vengeance.<br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ironwolf85</strong> on <strong>31-05-2011, 05:33:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The pangity pang pang pang, of one of control batons against the cellblock cut through the noise as the groomers&nbsp; passed by on their way out. "Ashakiel!... hello?" he walked over to her cell, the large black hellhound never told them his name, names have power best not overheard. looked down her body, then back up, then to the cell nearby containing the incubus yelling at her. "ahhh nice to meet a new guy, sold out?" he chuckled thinking back to a few other cases. "wound up an incubus huh?" he loved messing with and helping newcomers. He leaned in wrapping his hands around the bars, he was Adam's match muscle for muscle and physical pound for pound. "Bet your guts are churning up right now, have to get your cock's into everything, gotta have one in you, on you, and as many as possable inside someone else." the hound's glowing eyes and lumicent hair radiated softly in the darkness of the dungeon. He seemed almost graceful he felt pity for this creature, far&nbsp; more than for the blood and conquest obsessed royal he was to deliver the message to.<br>"I'll give you a freebee, like I do all the fresh faces I meet... no matter how much you satisfy those urges, it's a bottomless pit as long as you're down here."<br>He reached his large hand through the bars and pulled him against the cell wispering in the adam's ear. His voice almost soothing "the princes are liars, even to themselves. here is your tip "as angels can fall, so demons can rise." With that he turned, reassuming his guise of primal messanger.<br>"oh and as for your message... from "a rival""<br>She was still ranting to herself when he flipped his finger and spun her around speaking in the exact recording of the sender, moving as she moved all slinky and sexy. "as long as your in the cage, I can do as I please, if I wanted to force you to such things, and use the messanger as the medium." he flicked his finger, holding the command baton in one hand forcing her to her knees, mouth open, mere inchs from his bulging leather crotch through the bars. "now I have a barony riding on your match, so get killed. If you dissapoint I will send him back with a message that will have your ass sore for months." with that he switched the baton off, and let her go. standing back and relaxing, shaking off her rival's aura. He could close the link any time, one of the perks of sending a primal, he could let the sender control his flesh temperorarily<br>"normally I would ask if you wanted to send a return message. but you have nothing I would accept as payment, have a nice day, and please don't die. I look forward to dilivering her response."<br>with that he turned and began walkint towards the exit, maybe he'd hit the bath, maybe diliver a mass concuit message, those were always fun.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil1989</strong> on <strong>31-05-2011, 06:06:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				What was it with jailers and their annoying habit of running their batons, magical or otherwise in this case, across the bars of the cells as this messenger was doing?&nbsp; Adam didn't know that of course right off, but it was apparent by the way he handled his business, always on the move, never stopping for long, and of course the fact he dealt in information was quite obvious after only a few minutes of him running his mouth.&nbsp; Even so, Adam chuckled at the joke despite the fact it was all too true in his case.&nbsp; "That I did, and I guess that makes me quite low even among your kind my good fellow, at least according to her royal bitchiness anyway."&nbsp; He answered, turning his eyes upon Ashakiel before facing the Hellhound before him.&nbsp; His next words confirmed what Adam was feeling all too keenly however as he sighed heavily, having the strong urge to whip his cock(s) out and start jerking one or many out right there, but he had enough control yet to avoid making an ass of himself.&nbsp; Besides, he didn't want to give the former 'Princess' the honor of him on his knees just yet, unless he was giving her a very large cream filling in every hole of course, then he'd be more than happy to get on his knees for her.&nbsp; "I was afraid you'd say that.&nbsp; Still, that doesn't surprise me considering this is Hell after all.&nbsp; And Ashekeil, I did sell my soul off, but it wasn't for power alone.&nbsp; I wanted revenge.&nbsp; Beyond that, you'll have to beat it out of me, or fuck it out of me, whatever comes first."&nbsp; He challenged, smiling quite broadly at both thoughts even though they both promised a great deal of physical torment probably, but who wound up on their back was up for grabs however since he wasn't wearing a collar, having no power really other than his supernatural strength and transformation abilities.&nbsp; He wasn't going to try to escape either since he knew nothing of this world beyond the little he remembered seeing on his way past the front door.<br><br>Even so, he did file away the man's message, unsure if he too was lying out of his ass or if he was telling the truth.&nbsp; He'd give it a while, but he doubted there was any chance of ever being redeemed now.&nbsp; Still, if there truly was a way out of Hell, Adam would try to take it.&nbsp; For now, he wanted to learn more about the mess he had foolishly made for himself as well as Hell in general, always having a fascination with things like this in fantasy oriented books and stuff.&nbsp; Regardless, when the groomers came in, Adam stood perfectly still as a statue as the dirt and grime was expertly cleaned off of his body even though he could have just thought it away in a sense, but he was still learning control of his new powers.&nbsp; So instead, he simply enjoyed the touch of the female slaves' hands all over his flesh as they then applied a light sheen of oil to his demonic skin after they were done cleaning him up before giving him armor that did little to hide his bulging muscles or offer any real protection save for his right arm for the most part.&nbsp; Oh well, he'd make due.&nbsp; "Well, when does the fun begin?"<br><br>http://thetorchonline.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/spartacus.jpg (http://thetorchonline.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/spartacus.jpg)<br><br>((There was nothing more perfect lol.))
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelicBlade</strong> on <strong>31-05-2011, 06:30:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Zehair looked over at Sarathiel. The site of her here was disheartening. He walked over to her and leaned forward on the bars of his cage. "M'lady Sara? Though I am a defiled and tainted beast. . . I will let no harm come to you. How did you end up here?! You were trying to stop the arguing of the higher ups when I went into hell. He kneeled and his menace energies dropped quickly.<br><br>The energies focused into a single point on his palm and a tainted angelic blade appeared from the energies he focused there. He slammed the blade into the ground and looked into her eyes. "I swear by all that is holy in the heavens above, I shall protect you with every fiber of my being and soul. With this blade and my might I will slay any in order to get you back to your rightful place in the heavens. You still can go back. . ." Zehair stood up and the blade he created shattered and turned into energy once again.<br><br>Zehair took the energies back into his body and then looked over at the ranting noble demoness. He smirked enjoying the sight of a demon of anykind in distress over their polotics. He looked over at Adam as he started yelling at the woman. Zehair's expression became one of anger as he noticed this demon was relatively knew to hell. Why someone would sell their soul for an eternity of this was very strange to him and the thought of it made him angry. His energies began fluctuating again but he lowered them when the groomer came in. He didn't let the groomer going to him get close, but he did take the cloths it held out for him.<br><br>Zehair started laughing as the demoness that was ranting before began talking about freeing herself and become the ruler of hell. The thought of how arrogant these demons were was funny to Zehair considering it took a prince to bring him down. He looked over at the messanger as he entered and smirked. After the messanger gave his little performance Zehair grabbed it by the throat and pulled him against the bars of his cage, his grip strong and unwavering no matter how hard it struggled he couldn't break free. Zehair spoke quietly into the messanger's ear. "You're a lowly dog compared to you're forefathers. The hellhound I fought was a valiant warrior who guarded the gates of damnnation. Too bad I had to kill him in order to push into hell, here's a tip. Become stronger, then maybe, just maybe, you could end up becoming one of the greatest warriors hell has ever seen." Zehair forced his hand forward and tossed the messanger back against the ground. <br><br>&nbsp;Zehair then walked into the center of his cell and sat waiting for the guards to come and bring them into the arena. He looked over at Sarathiel and smiled. "Have faith, and ask god for strength. You'll make it through this. And if you ever need help, just ask me I will help you to the greatest of my ability." Zehair sighed then clenched his hands to gather and slammed them into his stomach. He fell to his knees and threw up a the black liquid the guards had forced down his throat earlier. Zehair then wiped his mouth and stood awaiting the guards that would escort him to the arena to be shown to the princes, and to be challenged for the tile of "Grand Champion of the Arena". Though many would try, none would succeed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>TheScarletBlade</strong> on <strong>31-05-2011, 15:09:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em><span style="font-size: 14pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Enter Alticus</strong></span></em><br><br>(http://singlarity.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/gannicus.jpg)<br><br><em><strong>Blood</strong></em>....It was warm and hot to the touch. A lone drop our to splashed onto the handsome face of the solitary figure standing behind one of the gates to the arena, his head aligned with a little hole to watch the games, the blood of a defeated enemy from a rival training camp being defeated by a warrior that he had personally trained, the lone slave master was watching the opening games of the match: the new blood and those fated to die at Gladium were being run through in fights against more seasoned veterans of the arena: No one expected them to last very long and in the last few matches there was not a single victory by these new, damned souls and demons forced to fight on the sands of Hades arena. With a fountain of blood spurting from a decapitated corpse, showering the area in blood as the trained gladiator removed the head of his opponent with one powerful sweep of his wicked axe, the roar of the crowd signaled another opponent killed, the sacred sands of the arena fed and the start of the next match. Standing alone behind the barred gates of the left entrance of the large Arena, the lone slave master was not garbed for his current job but for his old one and soon it would be his boots that graced the bloody sands.&nbsp; Before he had been raised to his honored position, he had fed the hungry blood stained sands of the Arena for untold, unrecorded years. Now, on the very honored occasion, one that was bringing the princes themselves down to the arena, his request to return to the sand was finally granted though only for a match worthy of the Princes themselves, a gory spectacle that could thrill the crowds and impress any prince or other demon that was worthy of actually impressing. <br><br>The magically sealed gates of Hades Arena which barred any from entering or exiting without the express wish of the Arena master finally opened as the man rose to his full height in the polvunus, or grand balcony, of the Arena to address the crowded mob filling the seats of the Arena, his very presence causing a hushed silence to befall the entire arena. With the gate finally opened, the lone figure behind them slowly grabbed the twin swords sitting against the wall, taking each of their leather bound wooden handles in his callused, swordsman hands and carried them with an expert's ease as he walked slowly out onto the hallowed sands of the arena, each step in the sand reminding him of past days and past glories as he emerged from the darkness of the slave pit and into the grandiose light that illuminated Hades Arena. As he emerged from the shadow's the Arena masters voice loudly begun to vibrate off the massive walls as his voice filled the arena "Ladies and Gentlemen, Honored guests and those out amongst the mob!" The silver tongued Arena Master said grabbing the attention of all "Today, in these honored games for our esteemed guests we bear witness to a rare feat indeed!" Ever the dramatist the Arena Master knew how to be a good orator, it did come with the job after all "Alticus Vorenus" the Arena Master gave name to the lone figure entering the sands "Makes a return to the Arena for the first time in 200 years since his last exhibition, come once more to wet the sands with an offering of blood dedicated to those who these games are for"&nbsp; the Arena Master said as his voice raised to be heard of the softly raising chant of Alticus, Alticus, Alticus that begun to rise from the blood thirsty mob of devils viewing the games "A man who needs no introduction, a warrior skilled enough to walk into the arena completely unarmored and still undefeated"&nbsp; the words responded to by Alticus in the center of the arena by raising both swords into the air, his arms coming out wide to each side as he held the blades high into the air, making a sort of Y with his body, he showed off his completely bare and well toned chest to the crowd as a thunderous roar filled the arena "It is a pleasure to introduce the self proclaimed Pagan God of War, The Terror of Arena and the Scourge of Slave Pits.....<strong>ALTICUS</strong>" The Arena Master said with a sweeping gesture to the sword wielding figure in the center of the arena,being surrounded with a ear splitting roar from the crowd.<br><br>"And who would dare step into the Arena against such a foe?" The Arena Master said as the cheer finally died down and everyone anxiously awaited for him to speak "Four craven dogs, worthless and damned creatures hardly worthy of even stepping feet on the sands of the arena, sacrifices of blood given to our honored guests!" The Arena said with a bit of enthusiasm as he pointed to the gate on the right side of the arena, four figures walking slowly in a little box like formation with just simple longswords, rags and a slave collars around their neck: they were dirty, ratty looking men who walked slowly out towards the center of the arena. Alticus, still a little disappointed he didn't have a worth challenge for his once in a lifetime return to the arena, regarded the fresh looking slaves like shit on the bottom of his saddle: smelly and annoying. Having already lowered his swords, Alticus stood neutrally with both swords down at his sides, the sharpened tips of each blade resting near the ground as he presented the flats of the weapons to his approaching opponents, his wrists flared back as he presented his palms, he looked like a coiled snaked waiting to strike though it was hardly the time for that as they finally stepped into the middle of the arena. Finally, with the stage set the Arena Master spoke "This is a no quarter given, no mercy shown match with only one victor! Let the games begin!" The Arena Master called as he finished the announcement and then signaled the match to begin, a roar from the crowd issuing as they eagerly awaited to see the promised blood. Alticus stood passive as he noticed that each of his four opponents seemed firmly rooted in the ground, unsure how or where to attack. In a taunting, unexpected gesture the undefeated warrior spun the blades in a circle before solidly slamming their points into the sand at his feet, burying the tip six inches into the ground, the blades quivering as his hands released the hilt of each blade and he left them stuck in the stand,&nbsp; coming back to his neutral stance as he left his completely bare chest as a wide open target to the men, his hands balling into fists as they came to rest at his sides "Well come on then"&nbsp; he called mockingly, a roguish little grin splitting his lips as his keen eyes watched the four men about to die.<br><br>Looking a little wide eyed at the now unarmed opponent, they were not sure what to think: though Alticus didn't give them any time to either as he attacked in a flurry of blinding fast movement. They had hardly registered what was happening when the unarmed warrior crossed the gap between them in the blink of an eye and approached the first man with deadly purpose, a solid right hook catching him in the side of the face with a clean shot, the force of the blow sending the man staggering back with a sickening snap as his jaw popped out of place and shattered from the impact. A rude awakening for his four opponents they all suddenly moved into their attack postures as they realized just how life and death their situation was. Right as his fist sent the first enemy sprawling, a sharp swords came swinging right at him, the lightning fast Alticus contorted his body back to dodge the blade as it clove the air in front of him harmless. Hardly given a chance to recover, the unarmed warrior dove forward into a roll as blade thrust through the air where his torso had been a minute ago, the quick and agile Alticus coming smoothly out of the roll and onto his feet as ducked low under a broad sweep for his head, weaving under the fatal strike as he stepped past the man. A series of quick and acrobatic movements sending him weaving, spinning, diving and rolling out of harms way as Alticus worked his opponents around the sands like a little puppet, his grin was full blown when he finally struck back, coming out of a roll into a powerful kick: Both legs fully extended, his feet pressed together as he hit the man straight as an arrow to the chest, sending him spiraling backwards as Alticus used the backwards momentum to tuck his head down and come gracefully out of a little back flip in a crouch between his pair of swords sticking into the ground, eager hands gripping them as he drew them from the ground: both blades rising quickly to catch two downward strikes from his opponents as they bayed for his blood with defiant little roars, their full strength coming to bear as metal clanged loudly in protest. <br><br>An animal-like growl issuing from his lips as both of his swords pressed in further towards him, the powerful muscles in his arms flexing as he held both the blades at bay, his growl became a roar as Alticus used his bent legs for more force to press the blades up, the strength of his entire body to push both blades up and back with one explosive move as it sent both men stumbling back. His left leg striking out in a forceful front kick that landed right on the left man's chest to send him flying back, Alticus moved with the deadly grace of a snake as both blade lashed out at the man on his right: the blade in his left hand slashing down across the man's forward leg, the blade cleanly hamstringing him at it fileted skin and muscle with its razor sharp edge, his right blade slashing viciously across the man's exposed chest in a broad diagonal sweep that left a brutal cut from his shoulder down to his waist as the blade sunk almost a foot in, blood from severed arteries and veins spraying in a wide arc as the man fell to the sand in a heap of blood and guts as his almost severed leg gave way under his weight and he crashed into the sand, his blood watering the sacred soil. Spinning around with a dancers grace as he shifted easily on the sand, the sword in his right hand batted the half ass thrusts towards his chest from one of the recovered opponents, forcing the blade out of his path smoothly as the man overstepped and came off balance, Alticus pivoting around as he finished his spin to bring the blade in his left hand in a horizontal arc that passed the blade cleanly through the back of the man's neck and then out the front as the sharp sword cleaved muscle and bone, sent some of it flying out with the rest of the bloody gore as a head slowly rolled off its detached body, the headless body still responding to previous signals from the brain as it took another step and then its forward brought it down to the sand in a thump as it went limp and lifeless, the head plopping down into the sand a few feet behind it.&nbsp; Nestled in its own little pool of blood that stained the earth beneath it. <br><br>Dark blood was splattered across his face and chest, the swordsman wearing it with pride as he turned to face his last to opponents, flourishing his dual swords a little bit as blood drops flew off the steel blades that were thoroughly drenched in the warm crimson fluid. Bring his swords down to his sides with the blades pointing towards the ground as he slowly circled around the remaining two enemies who unconsciously moved closer together as they raised their swords up in a defensive manner:&nbsp; he was the predator and they were nothing but frightened prey, a fact not lost upon the slave master as a devilish smirk slowly curled his lips as his emerald eyes flashed with dark intent. His slow circling coming to pause, there was hardly a split second before Alticus sprung off his rear foot as it sunk into the sand a little as he propelled forward at breakneck speed, a flashing blur as he brought both of his blades up in an X before him. Crossing the ground in a few powerful strides, right before contact with his opponent, Alticus sprung forward off his front foot as he hurdled himself towards his opponent, both swords flashing out dangerously as his left blade clashed loudly with the pitiful strike of his opponent, the blade in his right dashing out in a quick thrust like a scorpion's sting,the blade flat as the tip of the blade hit the man dead on in the throat, the razor sharp tip passing cleanly through the throat and out the back as the blade sunk a foot or more into the man neck, the foot of steel sticking out the back of the man's neck soaked in his blood. With very little time to savor such a kill, Alticus swung his sword wide out to the side as the blade cleaved through the muscle, the carotid and jugular as it came out the side of his neck, more than half his head no longer attached as it was held by a little bit of muscle and skin, the head flopping to touch the shoulder of its own body as it fell to the ground in a geyser of blood, heart still pumping blood out of the carotid.&nbsp; The body of his teammate hardly on its way to ground when the last of the enemy struck out towards Alticus, the expert swordsman casually bat aside the weak strike, sending the man's hand out wide as Alticus took a step closer and brought his right blade down across the man's legs, right above the knee caps as he severed the muscle with ease, dropping the man down to his knees in the sand before him. His leg coming out in a powerful kick to the man's hand as he tried to swing his sword around in one last act of desperation,breaking his grip on the weapon and sending it flying away, Alticus placed both blades on the man neck, one on each side in a an X before him as sharpened steel resting against dirty unwashed skin. The light of the arena casting a shadow over his unarmed opponent as Alticus stood over him, Alticus offered the defeated man a slight nod of the head though the mocking, roguish grin on his face didn't convey well with the gesture of respect before Alticus <strong>ROARED</strong> loudly, his voice threatening to split the sky as he ripped both blades out in opposite arcs as the X straightened out, steel blades beheading the man at two different points as it ripped his head from his body, the head landing in the side behind the headless body as it limply fell to the ground in front of its killer. Raising his blood stained sword into the air as they touched above his head in an X,&nbsp; Alticus said nothing as a joyous uproar came from the stands as the devil filled mob roared its approval, chanting the name <strong>ALTICUS</strong> as the slave master tossed his swords down in the sand and walked with a little bit of swagger,&nbsp; grin wide as he exited the arena and walked back into the slave pits, ready to don his mantle of Trainer, Teacher and Master once more.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>02-06-2011, 06:18:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Humiliation trembled through her entire body.&nbsp; He did it on purpose.&nbsp; Both the 'rival' and the pup upstart who dared to lay his hands on her.&nbsp; Fire flared in her eyes, bleeding to a red so dark it would shame scarlet.&nbsp; She pulled herself to her full height.&nbsp; Not very tall to begin with but she manged to tower over him with her power, however stunted by her collar.&nbsp; Though her wings were stunted she was not without her powers.&nbsp; But even she knew an opportunity when it presented itself.&nbsp; Soothing her ruffled feathers as best she could, she graced him with a smile.<br><br>"Royal bitch I may be, Pup of Cerberus, but you would be wise to step carefully of your betters.&nbsp; This is but a temporary cage.&nbsp; I will not be here long and when I do return to my full power, you would be wise to know what side you land on."&nbsp; Ashakiel, the Dark Virgin no more, no longer needed to hold tight a virtue lost.&nbsp; Now, if she had to, she would be something else.&nbsp; She would invent herself anew and Hell would run with the blood of her enemies.&nbsp; <br><br>She turned her head to the two lovely pair that clung to a past long gone.&nbsp; "How sweet.&nbsp; Angels are always so sickening, holding to the hopes and dreams of being forgiven.&nbsp; Disgusting.&nbsp; All lies.&nbsp; Everything is a lie.&nbsp; She gave a mirthless smile, envious because they could find a type of solace she could never achieve.&nbsp; There was no such thing as friendship in Hell.&nbsp; None that she had come across.&nbsp; <br><br>Raging cheers could be heard and she instinctively looked up.&nbsp; They must be getting warmed up.&nbsp; Many times she had visited the Arena and seen the delightful carnage.&nbsp; The Arena Master never let anyone down.&nbsp; Now, she would find her place amongst the sands of blood and sweat.&nbsp; Disdain hardened her heart and she frowned.&nbsp; She turned her attention back to the new one.&nbsp; The incubus.&nbsp; <br><br>"You are rather rude but then humans are by nature.&nbsp; You would do well to be careful of your speech.&nbsp; You never know who may hold your death in your hands."&nbsp; The chanting reverberated into the pen.&nbsp; And she paced.&nbsp; The leather of her harness barely holding back her breasts.&nbsp; That they deemed her to fight in a few leather strips was appalling but it would do.&nbsp; She felt rather exposed.&nbsp; To say the least, she was a prude.&nbsp; She wanted to cover up but she knew, to show that would be weakness.&nbsp; Even she wanted to get on with it.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ironwolf85</strong> on <strong>02-06-2011, 18:23:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sergio simply smiled walking away from her, giving a nod to the angel and turning around.<br>his voice became sweet deep, his true baratone shining through he spoke eliquently, far from the rough mecenary persona he cultivated "I'm a primal my dear royal, I am on nobody's side till promise day come. if you regain your thone and have the scratch for it, I'm always in the market for prespective customers. remember, we primals are loyal so long as you can pay for it."<br>He simply walked out slamming the great door behind him, the fighting was about to begin. he could see the damned on their cranks to lift the platforms, a few other platforms were driven by mechanical means, great smog belching engines that make the ground below the platform a mess of grinding gears and infernal smoke, grinding those who would fall off into bloody pulp.<br>He clenched his nose as he approached the primal box, below the princes of course, but for their messangers and well paid mercenaries. they were among the lesser noble boxes and the one next door belonged to Cassius Victius, a bloated glutton from anchent rome the former governor had quite a lot of influence even if he never had his piggy eyes on the prince's throne. Aside from the greyish skin and smell, he looked simply like a bloated human. the fat bastard gestured for the passing hound to come closer as he passed.<br>"you have nothing I want cassus"<br>The obese being tried to sit up, an effort in and of itself, crushing one of his servants in the process. "ahhh... but I see we have a noble an in..." he had to breathe again, his wheezing body betraying him. "incubus, and an angel. If you could being me a sample of the survivors..." he licked his piggish lips "I could pay you well..."<br>Sergio rolled his eyes "again you have nothing I want Victus if you want them buy one from the princes and take a bite. I don't deliver food, ask one of the Nepatha." the snakelike primals were always willing to do the disgusting deeds. "Or better yet hire a few Nam's their cheap and expendable." Nam was slang for the damned "vilianious soldiers" not simply ill diciplined, but war profiteers, unrepent butchers, looters, and rapists, soldiers and commanders who killed out of greed and lust for violence.<br>He simply walked away from victus, he didn't care about the gold one could muster, no his fee was always diffrent, and somthing with actual value, information, secrets, and victus had none. Which was actually what made him one of the prince's most trusted governers, so long as he was left to his own debachery.<br><br>Sergio entered the box, a turkish style bath, a few of the primals were enjoying each other's company, watching one of his younger brothers thrusting, grinding, and moaning with what he assumed must be some dark celtic farie, was simply arousing and entertaining.<br>he removed his clothes and sank nude into the bathwater letting it flow over his black and red muscles, his glowing hair sillouited in the steam, he walked to the other side, a number of other primals were watching, including a few of Dagon and Tiamat's squrming, if strangely attractive brood.<br>one of them stood next to him, another courier, "Narloeptep" he looked over smiling "hows the live cargo treating you." the large male had completely blue skin and white eyes, he would look human if not for the vicious jaws, noseless face, and hairlike tenticles extending back into a squrming ponytail. 'fine sergio, the plans of father go well, and how are the gates?" "same as always" he gestured to a slave girl, drawing her close. "an oil scrub please" she began to work her arms and the sponge over sergio's back "extra attention to the manhood please, I may be delivering a message of passion after the event."<br>"oh?" Narlo looked over at him slyly "yeah" sergio smiled back cunningly. "there's a woman out there who wants to ravash a rival if she wins, never done it with a male bod before, I want to make a repeat customer of both girls." "you're a bastard you know that sergio" "so are you Narlo, our father's just can't keep it in their pants can they?"<br>Narclo simply laughed. "I think I'll have her work me over when she's done"<br>they went silent to watch the impending battle
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lore</strong> on <strong>03-06-2011, 02:08:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The arrival of Ashakiel, though she did not know the demoness to be named as such, did not go unnoticed. How could it in all its palpable dark energies and murderous mantras? Sarathiel was given the distinct impression this demon once knew a better life among the damned. Her unsettled composure and haughty tones screamed of her former status in sacrilegious tomes. Sarathiel listened in mild amusement to the banter exchanged between the princess slave and the adjacent incubus. His attitude betrayed his youth before Ashakiel drew attention to it. Her brow lifted with interest as the demoness self identified as a descendant of the Fallen. She logged that little nugget of information away for latter reference. <br><br>The clamor of the messenger's approach drew her eyes and ears him. You didn't need to posses a knowledge of the ages -which she possessed, presently crippled as it was- to guess at the origins of that dog headed beast. She took the demoness' name from his lips but turned her attentions from him when he broached the topic of carnal urges with the incubus, and as such missed his assault on the demoness. Her eyes were instead for Zehair, rapidly closing the distance between them as far as their bars would allow. <br><br>Sarathiel couldn't help but force a smile at former archangel's chivalrous display. <em>Ah the warrior choirs</em>, she had nearly forgotten their impulsive natures and propensity towards dramatic codes and pledges. At least his taint hadn't drained him of all former habits, as reckless and impractical as they may have been to someone of a more academic design. <br><br>"Careful, brother. Don't go forging oaths impossible to keep. I am here by virtue of my own disobedience and foolish pride." She chided quietly, giving a slow hake of her head. <br><br>As if on cue, the demoness in silk and leather chimed in. Sara smiled, unable to offer up a counterargument to her stinging venom. "She may very well be right." She murmured to herself, thumbing at the band of leather about her throat. Who have thought such a simple, inconspicuous chestnut colored strip with its few sparse symbols could have been the source of such great restraint against her abilities? The roars of the crowd above drew her from her bitterly amused introspection. <br><br><em>ALTICUS</em><br><br>She knew the name. It rested somewhere within the reaches of her caged memory, barred beyond her grasp. "I know that name." She whispered in a hiss, giving her collar a frustrated futile tug. "From where do I know that name?" She paced and pulled to no avail.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dashenka</strong> on <strong>03-06-2011, 10:59:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				There were slaves and there were slaves and the only thing the two had in common was that their only purpose was entertainment. Aldora however loathed the mindless gore and maiming of what she thought of as potential diamonds. Even now in her small patch of isolated perfection within the colliseum she looked not to be trifled with. As per the rules she too had to give up slaves for the colliseum games but she wasn't happy about it. Entertainment like this was... animalistic and Aldora hated it. <br><br>A slave could be trained to serve in other ways that bloodspilling and she took pride in the fact that most of the princes' had personal slaves she had trained. Sure not all of them were suitable for the task but she believed that with a bit of training and controlled torture, ever slave could be broken and molten into perfection. A prince was a cruel being and only the best of the best slaves would survive them longer than a day. But she could do that. She could train them. <br><br>Today she kept some of them at her house. It was a large mansion build in a very earthly style of ancient England. She couldn't wait for the Cataclysm to come and she was prepared. She lived in an earthly house, using earthly things and doing earthly things. The other savages of the Colliseum would have troubles getting used to the subtlety of the human world but not Aldora. At her house she trained her slaves in a very sensible manner. Her hidden side though, lay buried under the house in a basement. Not many slaves had been there and even fewer had come out. It was Aldora's secret room for when she lost her composure. The same composure that made her stand out in the arena now. <br><br>She sighed at the cheering of the crowd and knew that probably most of her slaves wouldn't survive. None of them ever got fighting training as she focussed her slaves on the other kind of entertainment, lust and pleasure. She really didn't want to be here but rules were rules. If the princes and the Lord Himself wanted her to be there, she would. Wearing a white gown, she stood out even more and she had folded her wings neatly underneat a coat making her look mostly human. <br><br>Being a slave master she had a good view on the field and had a private area she shared with the other two slave masters. She loathed them but she was a woman and she would never show that. They mocked her for not ever producing a winning slave. She knew better though. When the 'two hundred year lost' champion entered the arena with a few mere dogs, Aldora let out a sigh and wished this could be over with rather sooner than later. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil1989</strong> on <strong>03-06-2011, 23:14:36</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adam just grinned but sobered up when Ashekial turned her gaze on him after the Hellhound had 'delivered' his message.&nbsp; He sighed heavily since he would need allies here, but he wasn't sure if this former royal princess would want any considering how bad she'd been treated already, himself included.&nbsp; Besides that, he figured she wasn't a 'team' player persay.&nbsp; Even so, making allies now would probably make things easier on him later.&nbsp; "Listen Ashekail, I might be human, but not all of us are rude, just the ones that are treated as such.&nbsp; You might have been a royal member of Hell's courts, but you aren't any longer.&nbsp; However, if you are truly wishing to get your old position back, then I would be willing to help you."&nbsp; He offered, figuring his offer of aid would be declined as he turned his eyes to the angels, wishing he had someone like they had for each other.&nbsp; Even so, it would have been nice to have someone like that in his life.&nbsp; For now, he would have to make do.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LadyMaayan</strong> on <strong>06-06-2011, 01:22:48</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Vengeance was a cup that never filled. It consumed her. This war had taken the only two people in this world she ever loved, her parents. There was always a reason to kill, a reason to hate. Death had become her constant companion. She dispensed it and she had felt it breathing down her own neck. Her patron goddess had bestowed long life upon her. Athena aged far slower than normal mortals did. It was a boon and a bane. She had forged her body into a lean fighting machine with skill, knowledge and experience of combat only the ages could have provided. People had come and gone; people she had come to know and trust; people who had died by her hand. She had cut a wide path through her homeland. The last thing she remembered was fighting a man on the cliffs of Dolmarr and was startled that as she delivered a killing blow, she lost her footing and slipped over the edge. <br><br><br><div align="center">~~0~~</div><br><br>The faint screams of terror mingling with moans of pain and blending in with hideous, cackling, maniacal laughter was enough to draw her up out of whatever place her mind had been residing in. It was a dark, desolate place she found herself in. The skies, if one could call them that, were tinged with enough red to see by. She got to her feet, wincing slightly at her protesting muscles. What was this place and how did she get here? Those questions however, would go unanswered for the time being. Out of seemingly nowhere came a <em>man</em> on a horse, followed by several on foot. As they drew closer, she withdrew her swords and stood ready. They didn’t look like a wholesome lot. Then again, this place, it was starting to dawn on her, didn’t spawn wholesomeness at all. They moved to surround her, those that were on foot. The one on the horse, stood outside the circle. It was to him, her eyes went to. Her awareness of the others around her, had not gone unnoticed. <br><br>“Now what have we here? A new red-headed human slave?” One in the circle taunted. She didn’t bite. A slave? Her? Like bloody hell. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she continued to watch the one on the horse. <br><br>“And what does that make you?” Her voice was firmly directed at the mounted one. It was some moments before he deigned to answer her. His words were accompanied by smile that held no humor. <br><br>“A slave trader in these parts,” He deigned to reply.<br><br>His eyes ran assessing over her, taking in her stance, how she held her weapons and knew exactly where this one was going. Now if her talent was worthy, well, he was thinking greedily of what he could get for her. A brief while later, he gave a short curt nod and they attacked. Not all at once, that wasn’t how this was done. The first one bold enough to enter the circle with her, charged with an overhead downward strike. Athena sidestepped as her main hand sword came up the block the strike countering with an over handed one of her own coming from her offhand. Her opponent barely escaped bodily injury. He snarled at her, circling counter clock wise, showing off some wicked fangs. The expression on her face didn’t even twitch as she followed the same path he took, counter clockwise. Athena rotated the wrist of her right hand, then her left, brandishing both swords. His next strike came horizontally as he charged her. Her offhand came up in an arc, meeting force with force that held for seemingly minutes when in fact it was seconds. As she felt the jar of the blow up her arm, she lunged her main hand in with a swift slash to his inner thigh, which sent him howling as he took a knee. Without thought to sparing, her main came up with a powerful, over handed blow to the juncture of neck and shoulder. As her blade sank into flesh, his scream was as inhuman as he was,&nbsp; his blood spraying outward catching her face and neck. Stepping back, she watched as he fell to the floor of the wastelands. Again, she set herself, her eyes on the horseman.<br><br>So it went. She had taken out three of the four. She wasn’t without wounds, but they were nothing life threatening. It was the last one that was her downfall. She slipped in a pool of blood or perhaps she grew weary and her own muscles were starting to let her down. Whatever the cause, she found herself staring up into the eyes of death once more, with the sharp edge of his axe pressed to her neck. Athena loosened her grip on her swords, though she did not let them go. A word from the rider and her opponent lifted the bladed edge from her flesh, ripping her blades from her hands. Yanked by the front of her vest, she was jerked to her feet, each wrist bound to one end of a rope, both ropes handed to the rider. The slaver trader nudged his demon horse so close to her she could feel its fetid heat on her skin. His hand grabbed her braid wrapping it around his hand and yanking her head back, so she had to look up into his eyes. <br><br>“You cost me three men, woman but they were worth it to watch you fight. The price I will ask for you will well get me more. I’m almost tempted to keep you for myself, but what I stand to gain outweighs that consideration.” <br><br>“Where are you taking me?” <br><br>“To the Arena. You should be able to provide some hours of amusement before you die.” <br><br>“I won’t be so easy to kill.” <br><br>“Don’t be so sure, woman. When was the last time you fought a demon of untold ability?” <br><br>Her silence was enough for him. He gave her head a final jerk before releasing her braid and set his horse into a walk, the ropes growing taunt as he got further away from her. She was forced to follow, either on her own two feet or be drug. That choice was hers. <br><br><div align="center"> ~~0~~</div><br>She found herself in a slave cell, collared. It had taken one very large man to twist her arms behind her with his knee in the small of her back as she was pressed against a stone wall so the collar could be secured. Athena was thrown into a cell unceremoniously, sent sprawling into the floor as the sound of a lock was set into place. Slowly she got to her feet, swiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand as she paced restlessly back and forth, like a wild caged animal.&nbsp; <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>07-06-2011, 03:28:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Asmodeus watches Alticus stride confidently into the arena, brandishing his blades and working the mob with his millennia of experience as a showman. It had been many, many years since the master swordsman had stepped onto the sands of the Arena itself, and the Prince leans in to watch his bloody handiwork closer. He sets to dispatching the wretches before him with his signature bravado and ferocity, each splash of blood punctuated by heaving spectators roaring their approval. To his right, he hears stifled cries.<br><br>Further down sits a recent Prince, only on the throne for 80 years. His clawed hand rests on the shoulder of a beautiful woman (http://th04.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2011/118/a/4/belly_dancer_by_birgeceyarisi-d3f47jy.jpg). The Prince roars at another gruesome death, and his hand clenches, digging into the girl's shoulder and drawing black ichor. She clenches a hand over her mouth and moans as the wounds begin to close. She'd been Asmodeus's right hand until her treachery came to light. Now she is a collared concubine for the lesser Prince. Her eyes meet his, and Asmodeus sees hatred burning behind her tears. He smiles and raises his cup to her. She'll be the death of the unappreciative Prince within the next few decades. Rightly so, such a fool has no business on a Prince's throne.<br><br>Asmodeus looks about at the Princes seated around him, and recalls the first court, the scheming and collaboration, the celebration at the extinguished light of Rome. The long wait took its toll, and the old guard fell to infighting and upstarts. These Princes, petulant usurpers, have no sense of duty, no sense of direction. Like bratty children, they squabble over elbow room and trinkets. Where is crafty Mammon? Or bold Leviathan? Replaced by brash idiots like Moloch, and posturing Andras. Spoiled hellspawn, a soft generation that can barely maintain the mortal conflicts in the third world nations above, much less crumble an empire. So few veterans of the great battle remain, and now after the Queen's death, Ahriman is the only other crowned Prince who remembers the exodus from Heaven.<br><br>Asmodeus's thoughts are interrupted by a fluttering of wings and a familiar presence. Phobetor's (http://www.itsnature.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/andean-condor.jpg) weight settles on his shoulder, and the Prince reaches up to stroke the underside of his hooked beak.<br><br>"Couldn't resist the smell?" He coos to the carrion bird. Phobetor clacks his beak and the servant imp shudders. <br><br>Below Alticus slays his final foe, and the crowd roars, stomping and chanting his name as he makes his way towards the slave's quarters. This is good, Asmodeus doesn't want to see any of this fresh batch slain before assessments can be made. As the roar of the crowd fades he sits back, sipping his wine and awaiting the new comers. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Iksander</strong> on <strong>10-06-2011, 06:36:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Astaroth sat before the grand parchment that rested, splayed on the walls of his office.&nbsp; Paper was notoriously difficult to find in hell, particularly the hotter reaches, so the demons made do with what they had.&nbsp; And what they had was the flayed skin of sinners, along with blood to serve as sufficient.&nbsp; More than anything else, habit enforced the need for demonic contracts to be writ in blood.&nbsp; It endured the flames of hell in a way that was quite admirable.&nbsp; Astaroth wrote upon the wall of skin with a pen fashioned from hair and blood, other resources that were in ready supply to his use.&nbsp; The words he wrote were of the old script, envisioned before the fall and suffering only minor changes in the passing epochs.&nbsp; Most of the younger members of the horde could not hope to read such a script, but Astaroth enjoyed the elegant flow and the reminder of grander times.&nbsp; It helped that he knew that most chafed at the old memories, that seeing the script was likely to unsettle and upset his older peers.&nbsp; If the sight was enough to set them even slightly off-balance, Astaroth gained an advantage.&nbsp; And one thing that Astaroth had learned first upon arriving in hell was that he needed every advantage he could get.<br><br>The subject of his text was philosophical in nature.&nbsp; Unlike many, Astaroth considered himself a scholar and a thinker, and he knew that by writing out the words, sorting the thoughts and ideas, he could gain some degree of understanding on the material.&nbsp; This particular material was well-trod though, playing into the nature of the Fall.&nbsp; Astaroth's previous writings on the subject made it clear that the creator knew of the Fall's coming, and that the creator could have stopped it earlier if so desired and that the creator could have easily destroyed every last one of them, rather than casting them into perdition.&nbsp; Unfortunately, even his talents failed to derive any further truth about the role that the creator played.&nbsp; The All Father's role proved richer grounds for study, but was also long since explored.&nbsp; While most had argued that the All Father acted out of a position of certainty, everything that Astaroth had derived spoke to the opposite.&nbsp; The All Father was uncertain when he betrayed his calling, but still acted out of his convictions.<br><br>For a moment, Astaroth considered writing of himself.&nbsp; He was an unusual demon, for certain, one driven by subtler lusts than his companions.&nbsp; Blood and sex and other bodily matters meant very little to him, except as a distraction from his infernal urges.&nbsp; Oh, he suffered those urges as much as any demon, he could not escape his nature after all.&nbsp; But for him, such things were passing fancies, designed to satiate need rather than fulfill desires.&nbsp; Nor did Astaroth truly desire power.&nbsp; He did not mind acquiring it, and being old and mighty (now at any rate) insured that he would have power.&nbsp; But Astaroth did not abuse his station as some of his predecessors had, fools who had sought either to supplant their superiors or gorge themselves on pleasures until they grew fat, weak, and stupid.&nbsp; No, if Astaroth lusted after anything, it was the truth.&nbsp; It was a strange search, for one who was infinitely bound onto the truth, a being who could not escape, whose very flesh was forged from the raw substance of truth.<br><br>Perhaps it was this bond that pushed him so forward, perhaps if he was free from the demands of truth, he would not search for it further.&nbsp; But Astaroth could change his nature no more than an incubus could become chaste.&nbsp; The search did not just sustain his lusts, it gave him definition and form, and without those, he would be less than one of the damned souls that flitted aimlessly through the passages of hell.<br><br>As much as Astaroth longed to remain in the presence of his writing, he knew that today would be a busy day.&nbsp; Word had reached him that new slaves were being brought into the arena, for the perusal of the Princes, for the first time since Astaroth had arrived at his station.&nbsp; If Astaroth were to skip the festivities, it would reflect poorly on his commitment to the position of Marquis, which would ultimately be more trouble than it was worth.&nbsp; And of course, there were the day to day duties to see to before Astaroth could give the rest of his day to the arena and his own examination of flesh.&nbsp; The word included whispers that angelic beings were included in this particular lot of slaves, and Astaroth knew that he would be unable to leave until he had seen them in the field and observed their abilities.&nbsp; The rest might prove entertaining, but the actions of lowly humans, even lowly humans transformed into demonkind, were of little interest to him.<br><br>So Astaroth slowly exited his office, with the hope of returning to his treatise before the next week properly began.&nbsp; He had several theories regarding the transmutation of the fallen that were worthy of further exploration, but they could wait, for hell waited for him.&nbsp; While the Princes were certainly imposing figures, capable of leading multitudinous armies, they often slacked when it came to the bureaucratic functions of leadership.&nbsp; Most just assumed that hell ran itself, that the mechanisms of the place would continue to flow even if there was no one to give instruction and impose order upon the place.&nbsp; Such was quite far from the truth, as Astaroth had seen, for beneath the veneer of clockwork efficiency lay a spiderweb of fractured egos and disgruntled middle men.&nbsp; Astaroth had taken it upon himself to help organize matters, ensure that goods went where they needed to be and that those who had earned freedom were able to enjoy at least a portion of it.<br><br>Fortunately, Astaroth had built his infrastructure on his way up, securing useful and intelligent demons to help fill in the management roles of his burgeoning enterprise, which left him only command level decisions to tend to.&nbsp; As Astaroth left his office, there was, thankfully enough, only three of his top level managers waiting for him.&nbsp; Perhaps they too knew of the news of the Arena and were eager to give him the time off, but more likely Astaroth was simply fortunate enough that today only had a handful of issues that needed his direct approval.<br><br>Surveyors had found a vein of blood diamonds directly beneath a torture pit and requested permission to mine.&nbsp; Astaroth approved and gave orders for the torture pit to be moved in a razor-thorn patch, with the razor-thorn farmers to be compensated for their lost out of the surveyor's profits.<br><br>Lady Gaap had assaulted the holdings of her neighbors and refused to surrender them, claiming rights by victory.&nbsp; Astaroth gave orders for ten legions to exterminate Gaap's forces and bring the demoness to him for personal interrogation.<br><br>A mining company had discovered an oblivion shard during their excavation of hellstone, and lost ten slaves recovering it.&nbsp; Astaroth arranged for compensation for the loss of the slaves and ordered the shard to be placed in secure hands and transported directly to his office, with a strict reminder than unlawful handling of the material would result in the loss of all station.<br><br>Astaroth went through his orders with a calm precision, hiding his emotional reactions to each piece of news, though certainly he could not help but feel the tug of passion at each of these particular items.&nbsp; Even if the Arena's new season hadn't begun, Astaroth would have many things to keep the boredom at bay over the next couple weeks, as it was, the marquis might well have difficulty fitting it all into his schedule.<br><br>While Astaroth could have assumed his true form and taken flight to the arena, he considered such displays disgraceful.&nbsp; Instead, after exiting from the spire that formed the center of his operations, Astaroth was greeted by the sight of a massive construct, resembling some twisted mixture of a giant insect and a human helicopter.&nbsp; Astaroth had proposed the design, but the engineer who completed it had earned a grand commendation regardless.&nbsp; Despite the ungainly look of the construct, it was capable of great grace in flight, while affording protection from most of the winged predators of hell's sky.&nbsp; The flight, thankfully, was uneventful and soon Astaroth entered the coliseum.<br><br>The place was much as he remembered it, back in the days of his youth, though Astaroth had found little occasion to call on it in the intervening years.&nbsp; There was something ostentatious about the whole proceedings, and since Astaroth could tell who the victor would be within a handful of maneuvers from both party, the thrall of the game lost most of its appeal.&nbsp; The clamours coming from the crowd signalled to Astaroth that the festivities had already begun, and so the beleaguered Marquis picked up his pace, emerging into the stands to see what spectacle would come next.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>10-06-2011, 07:42:47</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				After the groomers had cleansed and outfitted each slave, an expectant murmur began sounding throughout the Arena. The beginning festivities were over and it was time for the main event. <br><br>Just as suddenly as the new slaves had found themselves thrown into their individual cells, so the cells began glowing ever so slightly. "And now..." Balthazar's voice rang clear, the hushed silence that fell over the crowd seemed to be buzzing with eager anticipation. "The new slaves that I promised earlier!" <br><br>The vibrations felt in the cells wasn't merely from the sudden outbreak of frenzied shouts, nor was it the chorused stomping of feet against the stadium floors as the audience demanded fresh blood. No, the cells themselves were actually vibrating, shaking as it dislodged itself from the ground and began floating up towards the ear-splitting screams. Slowly, the cells reached ground level of the Arena floor, fanning out to be situated evenly around the perimeter of the stadium. The glow of the cells diminished, only to spread out along the blood-caked dirt as a runed circle. Each cell was now situated within these spheres, each fifteen feet in diameter. <br><br>There was no escape from this newly spelled jail, none save for death.<br><br>"Fresh blood for our Princes! Today, these new slaves shall face their first challenge within the Arena! Are they fit to be trained for our Princes? Or are they merely meat for the slaughter?" The lock to each cell clicked open with a flourish of the Arena Master's clawed hands. Another motion and weapons emerged from the ground near the door of each cell. <br><br>"What say you? Shall we see how they fare? How will our newest candidates stand up against Hell's monstrosities?" The wild escalation of cheers left none in doubt that blood was to be shed. Balthazar yawned inwardly while keeping his prizewinning smile plastered across his lip-less mouth. If it weren't for the presence of the Princes, he wouldn't have bothered with all the theatrics. "Well then, let the beasts be unveiled..." At these spoken words, directly across from each cell, a circle of the runes blazed brightly. From within the beam of light stepped out...<br><br><div align="center">*&nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; *</div><br><strong>Liliana Vess:</strong><br><br>A jointed leg, unmistakably insectoid, came first. One, two, three...eight rigid legs skittered out of the light. It only took a glance to recognize the form of a giant spider, and yet, the head of the spider had been replaced by the upper body of a woman. Arachne (http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs36/f/2008/276/0/6/Spider_Witch_by_GENZOMAN.jpg) stared evenly at the had-been assassin with her pupil-less eyes. Orbs of blood red, all six of them, sized up her opponent before blinking at various intervals. A slow smile slid across pale lips, exposing her blackened teeth, followed by a chittering laugh. The mandibles at the front of her body clicked together eagerly. "It has been long since I have tasted the blood of a demoness..."<br><br><strong>Zehair Angelith:</strong><br><br>Heavy footsteps stirred the sand as a scaled creature emerged from the light. Tough scales covered its muscled body giving it a very distinct reptilian appearance. With a tail that flicked to and fro, the nimble appendage seemed similar to that of a giant lizard. But that was where the resemblance ended. A heavyset yet powerful body, like that of an ape, Grendel (http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs7/i/2005/219/a/0/Grendel_by_GENZOMAN.jpg) snorted as he sniffed the air around him. The scent of blood excited him and his prey stood a mere leap away. Sniffing in the direction of Zehair, a low grumble emanated from his chest before he growled, "...Anngell..." His nostrils flared and he grunted approvingly, the sound like so many rocks grinding together. <br><br><strong>Adam Jefferson:</strong><br><br>As the light dissipated, it revealed a voluptuous woman in its wake. Nude and blindfolded, she seemed small and defenseless. Her arms were held close to her body in an attempt to cover herself, to cover her nudity before the leering crowd. She was certainly a beauty. Flawless skin, soft globes of flesh, well-rounded hips along with a small waist -- it was no wonder the woman seemed so decadent to those in the audience. A light hissing sound could be heard beneath the overwhelming hoots around the stadium. The woman's hair flowed gracefully around her. No, her hair was <em>alive</em>. A nest of snakes writhed around her face, some were stretching up and out, baring their fangs to any they considered a threat. The Gorgon (http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l4y5l7zwu51qbz35lo4_500.jpg) suddenly collapsed on her knees, her arms folded tightly around her chest. Her blindfolded eyes looked around her, terrified. "Please..." The whispered plea was accompanied by a single tear as she huddled in upon herself, not seeming bothered by the snapping and threatening hisses of her snakes.<br><br><strong>Sarathiel:</strong><br><br>A large peacock blinked over at the fallen angel, neck bobbing for a moment as if trying to observe her from a different angle. Its neck stretched as it craned its head, trying to see everything all at once and failing. Strutting back and forth, it stopped to face its opponent and fanned open its magnificent tail. Brilliant blues, greens, and yellows framed the peacock proudly as it preened itself. While preening nonchalantly, it spoke in a melodic, twittering voice. "I do not wish to fight." The eyes of its tail blinked, each eye whirling as it fixed red pupils upon Sarathiel. "You hold no interest to me, for you are no challenge." Ruffling its feathers, it began pacing once again, yet its eyes stayed fixed on the angel, others continuing to whirl dizzily around as it kept an eye on its surroundings. "Unfortunately, it seems I have no choice in the matter." The peacock seemed to be losing its substance, become more and more like vapor. Instead, the shape of a man formed and Argus (http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/076/f/1/Argus_by_sandara.jpg) resumed his pacing. Eyes covered the entirety of his body, all of them open though each fixated on a different location. "Shall we end this then? I desire to return to my readings."<br><br><strong>Ashakiel:</strong><br><br>The upper body of a woman stretched luxuriously out of the beam of light. She seemed impossibly tall, not to mention a tad too relaxed for the Arena. As the light faded, it soon became apparent why the woman was so tall. Where shapely legs should have followed, instead the scaled tail of a serpent slithered behind her. The Echidna (http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/236/2/4/Kiyohime_by_GENZOMAN.jpg) wound its tail around herself. Black forked tongue slipping briefly out between her lips as she eyed the humiliated noble. The end of her tail dragged a sword forward, its tip digging a line through the stained sands. "Why, if it isssn't the Dark Virgin?" She laughed, revealing long fangs. "Tell me, how was the Prinssse?"<br><br><strong>Athena:</strong> <br><br>It was hard to tell what monstrosity the warrior faced. A frenzy of tentacle-like legs, gnashing teeth from growling canine heads, all mounted by a chained woman. At first, it seemed as if the woman were riding the monstrosity. However, another closer look revealed that she seemed to be melded into the obscene thing. Scylla (http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs18/f/2007/166/8/2/Scylla_by_GENZOMAN.jpg) stared coldly down at the favored human, the overly large canine heads circling her waist snapped their rows of razor sharp teeth, drool spraying as they strained towards the woman. Its legs writhed and roiled beneath their mass, inching forward, quivering in anticipation. Cocking her head to the side, the woman yawned, her chains clinking as she lazily made an attempt to cover her mouth. "After all this time, they bring a mere human to feed my dogs?"<br><br><div align="center">*&nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; *</div><br>The audience quickly began vying for their favorites within the ring. Most cheered for the opponents that Balthazar had summoned, though a few decided to place their support with the new slaves.<br><br>Even over the rabble of the stadium, the Arena Master's voice boomed effortlessly. "Now, let the games...<em>begin</em>!"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lore</strong> on <strong>12-06-2011, 02:30:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sarathiel eyed the contours of her new cage with curious apprehension, blocking out the distracting boisterous presence of the rowdy spectators. Her sight trailed beyond her prison, to the individual fighting circles spaced about the cavernous arena. So, she and her newly acquired slave peers weren't going to be made to fight each other as she suspected, but a personal monstrous opponent. Good. She might have been the furthest thing in heavenly creation from Zehair and his fellow soldiers, but even she could strap on a shield and carry a sword when called upon - and if she were made to fight an adversary, let it be a demonic one: vile, putrid, beyond sympathy or reckoning...<br><br>Her calculating mind stalled as she turned to face an azure spectacle of a bird, eyeing her as she did him. Her pale flesh had been washed clean of the lowly gray muck that had clung traveled with her after having been snatched from the dank refuse of Hell's lowly levels, but she remained in bare feet and scrappy robes of cloth so worn they appeared as if they would crumble at touch. Her round shield and short sword were of simple, unremarkable design and appeared far too heavy for a normal woman of her stature to wield. And so, when the creature shifted and made his rather unfavorable assessment of her, she was none too surprised. <br><br>It was her turn to assume the role of inspector as she intently watched his muscle, bones and sinew for signs of future movement- though the dizzying array of ever moving cobalt irises proved to be a sizable distraction in this effort. Her ocular opponent was, once more, far from her original expectations. He professed a lack of desire to fight and only wanted to engaged in this match so that he could go off and <em>read</em>. Wandering eyes and vanity aside, the man seemed a perfectly reasonable creature, far from the loathsome beast of her anticipations. She was near inclined to toss down her arms and concede. After all, she harbored absolutely no desire whatsoever to prove herself worthy of becoming the plaything of some deranged&nbsp; princeling. <br><br>But how could she forget the alternative - to be handed out and consumed by the legions like some empty pleasure vessel, used over and again until broken? Neither seemed a particularly appealing option, but at least the process of training and fighting would delay the awful inevitable. Sarathiel's jaw squared as her shoulder rolled under the imposing weight of her shield. <br><br>"Perhaps we can expedite this ugly affair, as I have no desire to engage you either." She offered in low tones meant only for her opponent. "We<em> could</em> spend grizzly hours on end with my evading and shielding your blows until one of us collapses from exhaustion, <em>or</em> we put on a little show for the hungered masses, climaxing in your feigning unconsciousness. I would be spared bloodying my hands as well as the life of a legion whore and you could return to your studies post haste." Her voice dropped another register before adding. "I would also consider myself in your debt."<br><br>Sarathiel knew all to well the dangers of drafting bargains in Hell, and the flimsy value of promises, but still, the gesture had to be made. She readied herself for a rejection.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil1989</strong> on <strong>12-06-2011, 03:30:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				(PS 3)<br><br>Adam was surprised by what he saw when the cages moved up into the Arena floor and their opponents were revealed to the new slaves.&nbsp; Somehow, he wasn't surprised by what he saw as his own, until he saw the hissing snakes that served as hair for this babe just as his body reacted and tried to take over his reason.&nbsp; Managing to at least get a grip on himself, the new incubus knew that he wouldn't want to make eye contact with her or they'd need to carve him out of the stone statue he'd become.&nbsp; Kneeling by her back side, Adam put a comforting hand on her right shoulder, trying to get the snakes to settle down a bit.&nbsp; "It's ok, no one shall harm you here."&nbsp; Yet, Adam thought to himself, knowing he'd only get one shot to gouge her eyes out so he could at least learn some control over his powers now as he shifted to his human form, his armor and loincloth shrinking down as well to match his size.&nbsp; "Just keep the blindfold on and maybe we can talk of a way to get out of this mess without us dying."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LadyMaayan</strong> on <strong>13-06-2011, 05:32:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Athena quit pacing her cell long enough to inspect her new mode of dress (http://passionseed.com/adult_sex_toys/images/products_images/EM/EM-L5017.jpg) and grimacing as she did so. She wasn’t fond of the fact that her legs were bare. The pieces, at least, gave her unrestricted movement. She would have preferred to keep her own blood-stained leathers, but apparently that wasn’t up to her. She resisted, of course. However, after taking a couple nasty lashes of the whip to her back, she decided it was best to conform. For now. Her thought process was logical. If she hurt, she didn’t have the edge she needed in a fight. Before she started pacing again, wondering when in the hell something was going to happen in this god forsaken place, her cell began to vibrate. She hastily made a grab for the bars as the cell detached from the very ground it was on and started floating upwards. By the Oath of the Ancients, what the fuck was going on? <br><br>It soon became evident to Athena as she looked around her, amid the thunderous roar of the crowd that surrounded, that all the slave cells had been brought up from below and were spaced out in a circle, following the stone circle of the arena. That wasn’t all. Her eyes took in the spheres around them. Her eyes estimated&nbsp; a fifteen foot diameter, each. Not a lot of room to work with, but she had been in tighter places. She was still clutching at the bars of her cell as she heard: <br><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font"><em>"Fresh blood for our Princes! Today, these new slaves shall face their first challenge within the Arena! Are they fit to be trained for our Princes? Or are they merely meat for the slaughter?" </em></span><br><br>Two things happened at once, the lock on her cell door turned and two swords, well used by the looks of it, appeared on the dirt floor close to her newly opened door. Her eyes were glued to them. If she were going to survive whatever these denizens had planned for her, she would need them. <br><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font"><em>"What say you? Shall we see how they fare? How will our newest candidates stand up against Hell's monstrosities?”</em></span><br><br>She didn’t wait. The door was open. She dashed through it, scooping up the swords, weighing them in her hands before brandishing them to get the feel of their balance. <br><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font"><em>…..”Well then, let the beasts be unveiled..." </em></span><br><br>She looked up from her perusal of the weapons in her hands as a circle of runes blazed across from her. She back stepped once, twice. From the blaze of light stepped a multi-headed beast and a chained woman, riding on top of it. She would have felt sorry for the wench except for two things; one, the female seemed, upon studied contemplation, to be part of the beast and two, she had a mouth on her. <br><br>Athena counted seven furry tentacle like legs and seven heads. Perhaps they matched seven of the levels Hades held? There was only one way to find out. Gripping her weapons tighter in her hands, she darted toward the beast. This was not going to be an easy task. All legs and snapping heads. One wrong move, one slow move and she was going to be in trouble. She brought up her main hand with a wide sweeping arc toward those snapping jaws, forcing them to retreat for a moment, but a moment is all she needed to bring her main hand up sharply and drive it down toward that one hairy tentacle leg on&nbsp; its left side, slicing it clean off. Athena didn’t waste time, for time was of the essence. No sooner had she cut off one leg, she swiftly brought the point of her blade upward, in a complete reverse direction that she had just used, ramming the point into the underside of the jaw of the head right there on the left side. One down, six more to go. Her body was sprayed with blood as the beast yowled in pain. She leaped backwards, yanking her sword free as she did, keeping her eyes on it and the sassy mouthed bitch. <br><br>This was not going to be pretty. In fact, she figured, it was going to get a whole lot uglier pretty damn quick. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>minerva7790</strong> on <strong>14-06-2011, 15:01:50</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Adrianna leaned back leisurely against the bars of her slave cell. Though she seemed at ease, her mind was alert, as were her eyes as she scrutinised the proceedings in the arena, waiting her turn. The wind on her bare legs felt shameful, but she did her best to ignore it. After all, it was she herself who had ripped her long skirt short. She had no use for the extra cloth in the arena. Adrianna had also long discarded her blouse, leaving on a plain black corset. Hades was a hot place, and the guards didn't seem to mind her lack of clothing at all, anyway. <br><br>Subconsciously, Adrianna began to finger the ankh pendant around her neck. It was a parting gift from her parents, in hopes that she would find an afterlife. Adrianna smiled grimly to herself at that thought. Afterlife indeed! As an alchemist, Adrianna had been condemned to an eternity of burning in hell. It was thanks to her natural talent for seduction and sweet talking that she was here now, given an opportunity to please the great Princes of hell. <br><br>She looked up to dais where she imagined the Princes to be seated. Excitement began to fill her, and unable to stand still, Adrianna began to pace back and forth in her cell like a hungry animal. Better to be a slave in a Prince's court than a nobody in the pits of hell...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lithium</strong> on <strong>15-06-2011, 10:31:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Heavy eyelids began to droop down lazily over Herja's bloodshot eyes only to flutter open once more just a fraction of a second before the fallen Valkyrie fell into unconsciousness. Trapped in the warm and humid dungeon beneath the arena, her will to stay awake was beginning to falter. It had been several days since she'd been placed in the prison cell that she currently resided in, and in that time Herja hadn't been allowed a single moment to rest or sleep. On top of having her ankles firmly shackled to the ground and a heavy chain connecting her slave collar to the wall, she also had to suffer four large hooks that hung from the ceiling and pierced her wings, two on either side. As soon as Herja began to drift into a much needed slumber, the steel hooks would tear into the tender appendages that granted her the gift of flight. It was a particularly brutal wake up call to say the least. <br><br>Proving to be as despicable as could be expected, the dungeon guards even had a bet going on between them to see who could guess how long it would be before Herja could no longer stand; or, in other words, how long it would be until her precious wings were torn to shreds. The Valkyrie despised these wretches even more than she did the other dwellers of hell for making a petty game worth nothing more than a few measly coins out of her suffering. There was no retaliation possible at that moment, however, as she was stuck battling an invisible opponent against which she was powerless to fight back. There was no weapon that could force fatigue into a retreat, no strategy or tactic to outmaneuver it. It was an enemy that Herja couldn't defend herself against, which frustrated her to no end. Her blood was boiling within her veins, but she mustered up whatever shred of willpower that she had left to keep herself from lashing out. Doing so would be futile, and more importantly, it would waste whatever negligible amounts of energy that she had left. She wasn't entirely certain about what would await her in the arena above, but she could at least safely assume that it would be bad. <em>Very</em> bad, most likely. She had to save her rage for whatever beast or opponent that would be pitted against her, not waste it flailing around stupidly against her inescapable bonds.<br><br>Again Herja's eyes slid shut and her legs began to give out from underneath her, only for her to be jerked back into consciousness no more than a second later as several sharp jolts of pain coursed through her hypersensitive wings. Realizing that she wouldn't be able to hang on much longer, Herja thanked the Creator as the cell which held her captive began to rumble and float upwards. The adrenaline from the upcoming fight or fights would at least help to temporarily mask her exhaustion, and she would finally be liberated of her bonds. The ability to move freely was taken for granted by most, but it was definitely something that she would cherish for the foreseeable future, assuming that she lived that long.<br><br>The cell-turned-elevator finally ended its slow ascent towards the arena floor, at which point Herja's was finally set free from her unforgiving bindings. Even though the hooks were pulled out through the very same holes that they'd pierced through her wings, they still caused the Valkyrie an excruciating amount of pain since the wounds had already begun to close around them. She pressed one hand against her mouth firmly and screamed into it, muffling the sound so as to maintain some shred of dignity while her other hand clenched her side tightly. She didn't let go for at least ten seconds - ten long seconds - and when she finally did, bright red nail marks could easily be seen on her skin. Tears had welled up in the proud warrior's eyes, but she managed to choke them down&nbsp; as she attempted to regain her composure. <br><br>Spotting the weapon rack that had appeared nearby, she marched over to it with a purpose before quickly inspecting the small array of swords that had been included. Laughable quality, all of them, Herja managed to pick out the least pathetic one out of the bunch. Having sheathed the blade at her hip, she also picked up a round, spiked buckler as well as a flimsy spear, holding them both at the ready as she waited for her opponent to materialize. For the next few minutes, she would forget about her lack of sleep, she would be deaf to the crowd's jeers and she would forget about the guards upon whom she wanted to exact her vengeance. For the next few minutes, Herja would do what she'd been born to do - kill hellspawn.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FallenFeather</strong> on <strong>15-06-2011, 22:25:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Vess kept quiet throughout all the commotion going on around her. They were all fools. Nothing more than simpletons that would die soon enough. Her pointed ears perked up slightly at some new commotion going on. She opened her eyes, just barely, to see what was going on. A fallen angel was being hustled into the room. Eyes closed once more as the fallen got pushed into the cell, completely missing his smile. Shortly after, she could hear him speaking to her. Vess’s eyes opened to slits and she looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. “<strong>Your name is of no concern to me, but know this: if you and I are pitted against one another, I will be a lot tougher to take down than you think</strong>” she said softly, voice low and husky.<br><br>Once she had said her piece, she returned to being quiet and secluded. Ignoring all that went on around her, Vess made sure to keep to herself. However, one voice did manage to catch her attention long enough to open her eyes. Indeed it was that woman. The rotten, spoiled brat. “<strong>Tch.</strong>” she sneered under breath. Seemed like she had gone off the deep end, crazy with vengeance. Revenge was pointless. Vess looked, opening her silver eyes fully to get a good look at her. Yeah, it looked like she had completely lost it.<br><br>Vess paused in her assessment of the little princess when some lower slaves came by, obviously to groom and dress them enough to look presentable. It was obvious some of the other demons around were uncomfortable with being touched and clothed. Vess didn’t like strange groomers tending to her, but it didn’t bother her that much. At least the black outfit (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v131/okamiyokai/super-sexy-assassins-creed-mockup.jpg) provided wasn’t terrible. It did show too much skin for her fighting tastes, but it would do. After the groomers left, Vess glanced at what was going on; more unnecessary commotion. The angels were being silly honorable comrades, the spoiled brat was being threatened, and the boy was being naïve. Vess went back to sit down and close her eyes, blocking out what was happening around her. It was unimportant.<br><br>Noise from the stadium brought Vess back to what was going on around her. She looked up and could feel the cells start moving. As they moved into position, Vess stood up. ‘<em>It’s starting,</em>’ she thought. Se had seen the games a few times as a guest of some nobility that had hired her and knew the drill for the most part. Obviously, this time it would be slightly different since the Princes felt the need to watch this time. Vess was tempted to glance at the spectators to see if the Prince she had failed to kill was watching, but was too afraid to. She could still feel his grip on her neck and the inability to do anything. Vess’s fists clenched. She hated feeling utterly helpless.<br><br>The glow of the cell subsided and weapons emerged in front of her. Two daggers, one slightly longer than normal, about half the size of a sword. Vess was slightly surprised. They knew to give an assassin an assassin’s sword. Vess was slightly surprised. Vess kept back a smirk before casually strolling up to the blades to pick them up. As she did so, she didn’t even bother glancing at the light, or whatever emerged from it. So they were bringing one of the beasts to fight her it seemed. Once the assassin straightened, she finally glanced at the creature, twirling the blades to test their weight. It seemed she was faced with a drider. Clever of them to pit her against something with multiple eyes and appendages. She would have to either blind all eight eyes or cut off all its legs.<br><br>Vess smirked at the drider, cutting her own hand. She let the blood drip to the ground as she licked her blade clean. “<strong>It's bitter, but sweet at the same time. If you want a taste, why don’t you come try some?</strong>” she purred. The blood was mostly to taunt the drider. There was no way she would attack first. An assassin would only ever strike first if it was under the cover of darkness, with every detail planned out. At least that’s how good assassins did things. And within Hell, Vess was one of the best. Even now, her mind was working over time, like a chess player, planning each move and the reaction in advance. <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>16-06-2011, 05:47:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Adrianna:</strong>&nbsp; <br><br>Adrianna's cell begins to shake and lift.&nbsp; Light filter above her and were she to look up, she would see the red orange glare of a harsh Hell sun.&nbsp; Humid air is replaced by a whoosh of hot dry arid desert air and the sounds of mass cheering and cajoling assault the senses.&nbsp; She will stand in a circle and the cage will disappear, leaving her to see those who had been in the slave pens now beginning to face off dangerous looking opponents one by one.<br><br>A soft giggle from behind and the air is filled with the scent of a garden of roses.&nbsp; Behind her is a woman, beautiful and otherworldly.&nbsp; Her hair is red and her skin has a pale green cast to it.&nbsp; She smiles mischievously.&nbsp; Such a pretty site, the woman, who seems naked, sits inside a giant rose.&nbsp; A flower in a throne of rose.&nbsp; But what is this, the woman inches closer but she does not step from the giant aromatic petals, instead, beneath the bloom, the color of blood, tentacles of thorns slither, pushing the woman forward.&nbsp; Closer inspection will show that the rose and the woman are fused.<br><br>Beautiful as this creature is, she is dangerous.&nbsp; In her left hand she holds a scythe with a wicked point, the vines of the handle, seething and writhing like snakes.&nbsp; The eye in the cross section, yellow and staring, blinks at Adrianna.<br><br>"My, my.&nbsp; It has been so long since I have played.&nbsp; Pity though.&nbsp; It's no fun when I play with girls.&nbsp; The scream of man is so much better.&nbsp; Plus I get the bonus of harvesting their seed.&nbsp; What use have I for eggs?&nbsp; I am Alraune (http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs47/f/2009/176/9/8/Alraune_by_GENZOMAN.jpg) after all.&nbsp; Oh!&nbsp; Do you wish to have a baby?&nbsp; Pregnant here in the depths of hell?"&nbsp; Girlish laughter filled the area.&nbsp; "Now, wouldn't that be silly."<br><br>Alraune began to twirl the scythe over her head.&nbsp; A distraction.&nbsp; Two vines, with wicked thorns the size of daggers and roses in full bloom began to slither from beneath the giant rose towards Adrianna.&nbsp; The air grew heavy with the aroma of roses, so heavy, so dreamy, as if it would be nice to just sit and smell them.&nbsp; Lay down and take a nap......<br><br><strong>Herja:</strong><br><br>Thick gray smoke began to coalace and form, growing in size.&nbsp; From within the haze hissings and howls.&nbsp; The sound of jaws snapping the air.&nbsp; From out of the smoke a taloned claw.&nbsp; Each talon cruel like a saber, the glinting tips sinking into the sands.&nbsp; The beast steps forward and he is fearsome.&nbsp; The body is an amalgam of animals.&nbsp; No part is just one part.&nbsp; The eyes waiver, trying to figure out just what to make of the creature, to give it one name.&nbsp; There is but one and it is Chimera (http://www.creativeuncut.com/gallery-05/art/gow2-chimera.jpg).&nbsp; The tail is a like a giant Anaconda, striking forward with venomous fangs.&nbsp; In the middle of the chest is a human face, but not like any human face should be.&nbsp; Teeth...no, more like tusks protrude at odd angles.&nbsp; It's eyes are red and wild, it's nose like that of a beast.&nbsp; One shudders to hear it speak, but it does.<br><br>"You smell of prey.&nbsp; We are hungry.&nbsp; Power in your blood to feed us."&nbsp; A long, forked tongue, flicks out to wet...lips?&nbsp; A rumbling growl comes from the goatlike head.&nbsp; "Ye-eh-eh-eh-ssss, fee-ee-ee-d usssss."<br><br>It begins to circle the slave, playing with it's food, edging ever closer.<br><br>*****************<br><br>The Arena Master leans forward, some of the slaves have already begun their bouts.&nbsp; He face is blank, even as his mind turns.&nbsp; Even if he did smile, one could not tell through the skull visage he wore.&nbsp; This had to be the first batch of his most promising fighters.&nbsp; Such amused him.&nbsp; Breaking the unbreakable or for those whose will was too strong, bending them until they had no choice.&nbsp; He turned his gaze to the Princes.&nbsp; It seemed as though all had not arrived but even without stretching his senses, he could still feel them.&nbsp; They were eager.&nbsp; Perhaps from this batch.&nbsp; He had heard they grew tired of the easy ones, wanting...more.&nbsp; Perhaps one of these would provide.<br><br>A slave girl passed by and his long arm reached out and grabbed her about the waist.&nbsp; He hooked his finger and ripped the cloth of her meager tunic, the sound of fabric tearing filling the air.&nbsp; She screamed and squirmed in his grasp, to afraid and startled to be cowed.&nbsp; He laughed a terrible laugh as he fondled her breasts, the skin bleeding and tearing from his mauling.&nbsp; Her screams turned to cries of pain and he brought her face close to his.&nbsp; "If you do not wish more, go bring me the Messenger."<br><br>He released the shivering girl who scrambled to her feet and ran as if her life depended on it.&nbsp; He did not watch her go, just rose from his seat and stepped forward.&nbsp; "Who will be the first to fall?&nbsp; Who will rise to the occasion?&nbsp; But you all look so tiny down there.&nbsp; Perhaps we need a better view."<br><br>Even as he said the words, the circles below began to turn counterclockwise,&nbsp; The sound of stone groaning beneath there feet.&nbsp; The outer ring began to glow.&nbsp; An aerial view would show each connected by a line of light, forming a a demonic circle.&nbsp; The circles began to rise until they were fifteen feet off the ground, minimum.&nbsp; Some were higher.&nbsp; The sands blew away and it was as if the opponents faced each other on circle of glass.&nbsp; The circles turned and the crowd cheered.&nbsp; <br><br>"Now, show me the worthy.&nbsp; I assure each one of you, a fruitless fight brings punishment worse than death.&nbsp; Amuse me and there are...rewards."&nbsp; As he stood, surveying the Arena, the crowds, the Princes, he saw the lines that began to connect.&nbsp; Yes.&nbsp; All was coming together.&nbsp; Soon but not yet.&nbsp; Not yet.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelicBlade</strong> on <strong>17-06-2011, 10:51:07</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Zehair smiled and looked at Sara. <span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">'Good luck'</span> He thought too her, then as the cage started too lift up Zehair became more seriuos and deadly looking. His aura becoming unbareable for some of the other demon slaves. As the cage came too a stop and Zehair studdied the circleand heard a creature approuching. When the giant lizzard ape, named Grendel came into the light Zehair gave a scowl. Zehair studdied Grendel a moment and noticed Grendel didn't have a weapon or cloths. "Let's make this somewhat fair shall we?" Zehair slide his over jacket off then and his pants leaving only his undercloth. As the weapons popped up from the ground and Zehair destroyed the stand and walked out into the arena circle.<br><br>Zehair smirked as the Grendel talked. "Is this really the best they could throw at me? Oh well. . . ." Zehair noticed the tail as it seemed too wag slightly and he thought a moment looking at the tough scales. "Those scales aren't going too save you from me." Zehair dash past Grendel with amazing speed and grabbed his tail and flinging Grendel into the Arena walls. "C'mon big guy, let's see what you got."<br><br>As Grendel got back up and leaped towards Zehair, Zehair grinned and quickly side stepped Grendel making him land in the dirt. Zehair raised an eyebrow as the circle raised into the air. It was obvious Grendel would be at a disadvantage up here. Grendel charge Zehair letting out a loud and too some a terrifying holler. Zehair grabbed Grendel's fists and held his ground as the strong beast pushed him back slightly. Zehair smirked and lifted Grendel off the platform before slamming him down onto it again. It was a good thing the platform was pretty thick or it would have been destroyed by the impact as Grendel layed in a small crator on the platform. Zehair sighed as it seemed Grendel was done for at the moment. Zhair looked around at the crowded as they booed him and threw garbage at him. "Well?! Does this foe live or die?! It's your choice." As the crowd started chanting death Grendel stood back up and swatted Zehair across the platform. "Me still smash Aaannngggeellllll!!"<br><br>"You just don't know when too give up do ya'? Whatever, I'll break you into peices demon." Zehair's aura fluxuated as he seemed too suddenly appear next to Grendel. Zehair used almost all his might in his kick too Grendel's right arm, snapping the bone inside into tiny peices. As Grendel yelled in pain Zehari grabbed his other arm and yanked on it pulling it out off place causing the creature more pain. Zehair's primal raage got the better of him when he yanked so hard on Grendel'sleft arm that he ripped it off the beasted body sending blood spewing all over the platform.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lithium</strong> on <strong>18-06-2011, 00:01:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Glancing around the arena, Herja could see that many of the other slaves had already been pitted against a wide variety of opponents. Most of the demons and creatures she was able to recognize, having faced others of their kind in battle before, but there were one or two that even she was less familiar with. She quickly switched her focus back to what was going on closest to her as another of Lucifer's pets was summoned in the same circle that she stood in. Planting the butt of her spear in the sand, the Valkyrie batted her majestic wings forward a single time, dissipating the thick cloud of smoke almost instantly with a powerful gust of wind. Herja stood stoically with her head held high as she gave the beast a slow once-over, studying its features so that she may be able to decipher any strengths or weaknesses.<br><br>She'd slain more than her share of similar monsters in the past, but that was when she possessed the full range of her powers as well as the finest weapons that the forges of heaven could produce. Even then, hell's beasts had always presented a good challenge and they were not to be underestimated. In her current conditions which were considerably unfavorable to say the least, Herja realized that this fight would be far more challenging than anything she'd undertaken in the past. Still, she seemed to know no fear. If she did, her stone-faced demeanor and zealously determined glare certainly let no part of it shine through.<br><br>Using the fact that the Chimera had decided to advance upon her very cautiously to her own advantage, Herja continued to analyze the beast. Using all of her previous experience and knowledge, she was able to make at least a couple of educated guesses about the beast's nature. The first thing that stuck out at her was the grotesque perversion of a human head. It was safely tucked away in the creature's chest and had no neck, meaning that it would probably not be very practical for the Chimera to attack with it. That led Herja to the conclusion that the other two heads would probably be doing most of the fighting, while that one was the more intelligent of the three. It was either the one calling the shots for the other two, the one that controlled the majority of the other body parts, or perhaps even both. In any case, she was fairly confident that slaying that head in particular would yield the greatest results, although it would also be the most difficult of the three to reach.<br><br>The anaconda was the one that Herja needed to be the most weary of, since she had no doubt that whatever venom it possessed would be enough to either incapacitate or kill even an angelic being such as herself. The goat-like head was the biggest mystery to her, as she had little idea about what its powers might be. That made it substantially more difficult to prepare, but then again one always had to be ready to adapt to the unexpected in battle. She ignored the beasts taunts, if they could even be considered as such, as she'd never been the type to partake in such things. The crowd would probably disprove of her lack of showmanship, but Herja was a warrior, not a jester.<br><br>Both the Valkyrie and the Chimera completely ignored the fact that the ground beneath them had begun to float up into the air, neither of them taking their eyes off of each other as they continued to square off. Even as the three headed beast was just a few feet away from being in range of striking, Herja kept her guard low, allowing her shield arm to hang loosely by her side rather than holding it up in front of herself. Being the head with the longest reach, the anaconda stretched its neck out and snapped its jaws at her even though it was still slightly out of range. Testing her resolve, probably. Herja didn't flinch, knowing that she was safe since she'd already gauged the distance between herself and the demon.<br><br>Having decided that it had had enough of the preliminaries, the Chimera finally made the first move, advancing upon Herja with surprising speed as the anaconda once again lashed out at her, only this time it was for real. The Valkyrie been counting on it, in fact, and so her reaction time was but a fraction of a second at most. Whipping her shield up, she swung it in an outwards arc with as much force as she could muster, swatting the snake's head away violently as well as puncturing it with her buckler's crude spikes. An ear piercing mixture of a sharp hissing sound fused with a high pitched squeal filled the arena momentarily as the wounded anaconda snapped back and withdrew. A dark green ichor - almost black - poured out of the gashes along the side of the serpent's head, and more of it was splashed onto Herja's shield and arm. In addition, the snake's left eye was no longer in it's socket, finding a new home upon one of the skewers on the Valkyrie's buckler.<br><br>There was no time to bask in that minor victory, though, as the Chimera continued its assault with even greater ferocity now that it had been wounded and enraged. The goat head charged directly at Herja, aiming to strike her dead center in the chest. Her plan had been to impale the humanoid head with her spear as it approached, but the beast's surprising speed caught her off guard and caused her calculations to be slightly off. Her weapon buried itself into the monster's extremely muscular shoulders, probably causing it some amount of discomfort but nothing that was immediately noticeable. Realizing that her attempt had failed, Herja just barely had time to let go of the spear and turn her right shoulder forwards so that it absorbed most of the upcoming impact. A broken or dislocated arm was better than having her ribs shattered into a thousand pieces and her lungs collapsed.<br><br>Had she waited a moment longer to shield herself, she would have been dead. Instead, the force of the goat's sturdy head colliding into her body sent Herka flying several feet backwards, all the way to the edge of the invisible platform and beyond. Thinking quickly, she used her shield arm to draw the sword from her waist and stab it into the platform, using it to hand on as her body dangled over the side. She could hardly feel her right arm at that point, let alone use it to help herself climb back up, and her right wing wasn't doing amazingly either. Still, she was at least able to flap her wings a couple of times and push herself back onto the fighting circle where the Chimera was already upon her. Quickly ripping her blade back out of the ground, Herja tucked her wings in as much as possible and rolled away from a heavy talon swipe that would have shredded her entire body to bits. She groaned in pain loudly, having been forced to land on her injured side in order to avoid the strike. Scrambling back up to her feet, the Valkyrie discarded her shield as it made using her sword with the same arm awkward and uncomfortable.<br><br>Realizing that she'd be better off not trying to absorb another one of her opponent's deadly charged, Herja took the initiative and ran at the beast instead. Her idea was to fake an attack directed at the goat head right before leaping over the creature's body, using her wings to help launch herself towards the anaconda so that she may sever it completely. She'd come in from the Chimera's left side where the serpent had already been blinded. Hopefully that would give her the edge that she needed to kill it without being bitten in return.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>24-06-2011, 03:55:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Far from the Colosseum and many levels below the surface of Hell, hair-raising screams and soulless wails sang through the air. Here, the air felt like a living being of heat pressing against the skin, trying constantly to sear the flesh through to the bones. Here, the damned writhed in eternal agony, a mass of clawing limbs and faces forever contorted in excruciating pain. Here was the place for those who had no place, a place for those who had been rejected by all other levels of hell. This was just the beginning, one of the many places in Hell where chaos reigned freely.<br><br>Even the underworld had its outcasts, and many were bent on crawling their way back up.<br><br>Like all other outbreaks of infestations, this was not left unmanned. Hunters of all sorts amassed here in hopes of making a name for themselves. Whether it be bragging of how many they killed, managing to slaughter a specific bounty, or just to sate one's blood lust, this was the place to go.<br><br>Most never returned.<br><br>One such hunter trudged away from the echoing screams, weary and relieved that her task was finally over. Blood still trickled from her many wounds, blackened tongue slipping out to lick at the blood along her cut lip, yet there was a gleam of pride behind her glassy eyes. She'd survived.<br><br>Crawling behind her, a damned soul shuffled along on his hands and knees. Led along by a makeshift leash, the bladed leash ended with dull hooks that were now lodged into the man's face (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b4/Ntginspiration03.jpg). Pale skin that had once been taut was now loose, cut, and flapping. His left eye had been dislodged, the remnants of a flattened eyeball clinging to the tip of a hook. Blood-coated saliva dribbled out of his mouth as another hook lodged up through the bottom of his chin and through his mouth. He had no choice but to follow, though the extent of his injuries -- deep gashes and cuts all along the length of his body -- told how he had resisted.<br><br>Leading her new captive along, the huntress's spirits lightened. She'd passed the test. Once she brought the soul to the Prince, it would show that she was able to complete further tasks. Tugging impatiently on the leash, the soul gargled out his objection which only added another cut to his collection. "Hurry it up, I haven't got all day."<br><br>She gasped as heat suddenly seared through her abdomen. Glancing down, she gaped at the length of sword jutting out of her stomach, the gleaming metal covered in her own blood. "You're right, I haven't got all day." The voice murmured in her ear before twisting the blade and swiftly pulling it to the side, effectively slicing her stomach open. "You have failed. A weakling such as yourself doesn't stand a chance to continue the Prince's bidding."<br><br>As the huntress fell to her knees, a hand clutching at the gaping wound, loss and despair raged through her. "Master Vetis (http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs23/f/2007/365/7/8/Dynasty_declining_by_feimo.jpg)...please...please, give me another chance..." The soul that she had captured, realizing its captor was severely weakened, took the chance to pounce on her. No longer minding the hooks that tore against its flesh, it sunk its teeth into her neck until it felt the crack of bone...then it feasted as it tore a chunk of her flesh away and gobbled at it greedily.<br><br>His duty done, he returned to his Prince's side.<br><br><div align="center">*&nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; *</div><br>Lounging atop a massive amount of black silk pillows, Mnemosyne (http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3486/3932087302_5439277965.jpg) idly watched the fighting within the arena. She was currently watching the Valkyrie and chimera as they were the closest pair in sight, yet already, she was trying not to yawn outright.<br><br>Mnemosyne hated these silly social gatherings, she never saw the point of immersing herself within demonic politics, much rather preferring to spend her days enjoying herself instead of tipping polite nods and fake smiles towards the other Princes. But she was no fool.<br><br>Rumors of an uprising had reached even her ears, and now was no time to appear weak and uninterested. She didn't care for any of the other Princes and had no intention of dislodging one from their throne. All she cared for was the keeping of her own, her Mistress's throne, the Queen of Darkness's throne.<br><br>Vetis appeared at her side just as the crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers as the Valkyrie nearly fell off the floating platforms. Kneeling with his head lowered, he waited for her word.<br><br>"And?"<br><br>"None of the candidates were worthy."<br><br>"Ah, pity. And they were all taken care of?"<br><br>"Yes, my Lady."<br><br>Readjusting herself as she shifted atop the pillows, she stared thoughtfully out at the Arena. After becoming Prince, her previous occupation as Hunter was no longer her priority. However, it was one of the tasks that the Queen of Darkness had overlooked, and now that task was hers. Curbing the levels overflowing with the damned. As much as she loved the feel of her blade bringing death to another, she just didn't have the time for it as she once did. She needed skilled hunters to take her place.<br><br>Eyes fixed on the fights before her, a small smile curled her lips. "Perhaps one of these will do..."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>24-06-2011, 04:46:53</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Sarathiel:</strong><br><br>Argus's two eyes were closed, yet every other eye along his body continued swiveling around, ever alert. He seemed to ponder her words for a moment, though his expressionless demeanor made it hard to tell. "As much as I would like to end this peacefully, I'm afraid that that is not an option." It was either kill or be killed within the arena and there were no exceptions. Especially not under the watchful eyes of the Arena Master. <br><br>"If we had met under different circumstances, then perhaps I would be able to help you. However, nothing can be feigned within these runed walls." Gesturing to the glowing runes that surrounded them, he nodded ever so slightly in the direction of Balthazar. "An attempt to trick the audience is an attempt at lying to the Arena Master. Being thrown to the Legions is a better punishment than being doctored by Balthazar." The grim expression on his face, along with the seriousness of his tone, it was as if he spoke from personal experience.<br><br>"Even so, I do not relish the punishment of losing a match either...and so far, I have only lost once." His stance changed as he stood at the ready, a blue glow slowly traveling from the tips of his fingers and spreading along his body. Balls of flickering blue flame hovered above the palms of his hands. <br><br><strong>Adam Jefferson:</strong><br><br>The Gorgon shied away from his touch, as if afraid that he would hurt her, the snakes that adorned her head hissed venomously at him as many stretched out to snap their jaws and sink their fangs along his forearm. It wasn't until she heard his comforting words that the snakes dislodged themselves from him, though they continued to hover threateningly nearby. Her lips parted slightly, as if his words had given her a small kernel of hope, and yet they curved down in defeat again. "No, there is no escaping the fate of the Arena. Those who do not fight only die, and those who seek peace only find agony." <br><br>Nearby, the audience jeered eagerly as they watched. Intermingled cries of "Fuck her!" and "Kill the damned human!" could clearly be heard. <br><br>Upon closer inspection, the blindfold across her eyes had runes inscribed over them. It could not be removed without the Arena Master's consent.<br><br><strong>Athena:</strong><br><br>The beast howled in pain as it lost one of its tentacled legs, though the howl quickly changed to a startled yelp as the warrior's blade swung up through the bottom of its mouth and out through the top of its snout. The woman atop the beast screamed her rage as the other six heads snapped viciously at their target. All gnashing teeth and spittle, the rest of its tentacles writhed wildly in an attempt to swat the woman off and away. <br><br>"Cocky human!" Scylla spat her words out. "Luck was with you, but no longer!" With that, the mass of snarling teeth lunged forwards, the closest of the six beasts opening its jaws wide as it prepared to snap the fragile human in half.<br><br>From above, Balthazar's voice boomed out. "First blood has been drawn! Which of our new slaves will manage to survive?"<br><br><strong>Liliana Vess:</strong><br><br>Arachne watched in mild fascination as the had-been assassin spilled her own blood. The scent of it was tantalizing to her and despite her nonchalance, she was salivating over the thought of the demoness's warm blood trickling down her throat. Even so, she was no fool. Fools didn't survive in the Arena, save for the lucky few who possessed herculean strength. <br><br>Pushing her thirst away, she concentrated on winning her prize. "Mmm, you certainly smell sweet, though I do not mind a bitter aftertaste. It only makes the initial taste that much sweeter." She smiled again, that sickly smile of blackened teeth. Already, her spinnerets were exuding their web, spinning a trap of her fine threads around herself. "Though unlike you, I am in no hurry. It is the wait that makes the food more delicious."<br><br><strong>Zehair Angelith:</strong><br><br>The part of the Arena nearest Grendel's platform was stunned into temporary silence as the fallen angel brutally ripped off Grendel's arms. However, the draconian display earned the respect of the audience and soon they had swelled onto their feet as they chanted excitedly. "Kill him! Finish him!" Now without arms, the monster struggled to his feet, blood pouring down his sides and pooling around his feet. Despite his lack of intelligence, even Grendel knew when the crowd was against him. A bubble of panic rose within him and exploded from his throat as a ferocious roar. "Grendel no die! Grendel kill angel!" Charging forward, head down, his first few steps were slippery from his own blood, yet he managed to right himself and smash into the angel.<br><br><strong>Herja:</strong><br><br>The crowd near the Chimera's platform was practically screaming itself hoarse. As the Valkyrie dangled precariously off the edge, it was clear that the audience was hoping to see her body break against the Arena's dirt floor. The Chimera was waiting and pounced upon the Valkyrie when she rolled back onto the platform. It grumbled a low growl of dissatisfaction when it missed its strike as the angel rolled out of the way. Muscles coiled and at the ready, its anaconda tail stood poised as well, forked tongue flicking out to lick at its missing eye. The humanoid face spoke, its words catching against its own fangs to sound guttural. "Angel quick. We hungry...will be quicker..." The goat-head above voiced its agreement in its continual heave of "Ye-eh-eh-eh-ssss, fee-ee-ee-d usssss." It was hard to tell if it were actually the goat speaking or the snake as its body weaved side to side.<br><br>As if the three had reached an agreement among themselves, the chimera's stance lowered as its muscles coiled for another spring.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil1989</strong> on <strong>24-06-2011, 23:56:25</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Adam and the Gorgon.</strong><br><br>Such perfection was almost a crime to harm, but then her snakes had lashed out against his human arm, and any thoughts of mercy flew from Adam's head.&nbsp; However, he didn't immediately lash out as he might have once before.&nbsp; Hell had taught him a measure of patience already, but even so, he wasn't going to let this attack go unpunished as the venom burned its way up his arm, at least until he took a couple of steps back and transformed fully into a demon again.&nbsp; His demonic nature luckily stopped the venom from taking hold and spreading further along his arm.&nbsp; Still, there was a measure of gentleness left in Adam's form as he knelt before her front this time.&nbsp; "I have only killed once, and that was in the heat of the moment.&nbsp; However, I plan to leave here with my body in one piece, but if it is not possible to make sure we both do, then I guess we have little choice."&nbsp; He whispered, right before he grew wickedly long claws and managed to slice most of the snake heads clean off with one swing of his hand before doing so again and again, getting them all before slipping behind the Gorgon, one arm tight around her throat.<br><br>"I am sorry, but being a new demon of Hell has its rewards, as well as its neverending pains.&nbsp; I'm sure you understand."&nbsp; He hissed, licking along her right ear as several tentacle cocks erupted from behind his loincloth, shredding the simple cloth barrier before four of them slammed deep within the woman's ass and cunt holes at the same time.&nbsp; Damn, he should have done this before!
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lore</strong> on <strong>27-06-2011, 21:49:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Sarathiel and Argus</strong><br><br>Her peaceful proposal was rejected, and she could not fault him for it - certainly not now that they had been elevated to the scrutinous eye level of their overlords. Her breath hitched in her chest under the fatalistic realisation there would be no reasoning her way free from this predicament, and that the the ground beneath them would be doused in an offering of blood one way or another. <br><br>The cries from an adjacent pen lured her startled gaze, and she glimpsed the grizzly sight of the incubus violating his opponent. It was all the opportunity Argus required to baptize the former angel in fire. Her small form was sent hurtling to the far end of their domed circle, where she rolled to ragdoll stop under the weight of her blasted shield. As she lay flat of her back shrouded by a veil of dust, a buried memory crept up from the cracked and drained reservoir of her mind. The fine features of her opponent hung in a deep sleep as the charge he was trusted to protect was stolen away - his brutal end met when his skull was sundered by a stone. It was the singular loss of which he spoke, the failure which had him brought to the arena. He'd been lulled into the fateful sleep by boring tales, but surrounded by the roar of the crowd and engaged in the heat of battle, it was doubtful she could repeat such a feat. <br><br>The familiar sound of fire coursing through the air caused her to reflexively roll to the side. She'd lost her cracked and scorched shield in the evasive maneuver, and found her feet armed with her sword alone. There was barely enough time to find her barrings before that blast was followed by another and another, each which left the fringes of her wrappings singed and smoldering. <br><br>At first it seemed as the fight would unfurl as she first described, with her acute attentions to his muscular cues allowing her to tire him after hours of uneventful exchanges, but there was a more calculated meathod to her artful dodging. Soon the air was thick with stirred sand and thick smoke to the point where the battle was briefly eclipsed by the cloud. It was under the cover that Sura buried her sword, and guided by the blue light which lined her opponent, leaped onto his shoulders, driving her fist with unnatural strength to the site of where his mortal wound had been made. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>29-06-2011, 02:35:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Princes' Box</strong><br><br>Asmodeus eyes the fresh crop of slaves. From what he can see, the arena master has outdone himself. Among the usual mortal chattel two fresh Fallen and a few vie for their lives. He examines each as the platforms swing by, assessing their tactics. The nearest is a slender, wingless girl, speaking softly to Argus, and dodging bursts of fire when her diplomacy fails. Strong, quick, hesitant to clash steel. If she can survive the arena, she will do.<br><br>He notes the crowd cheering after another angel, one Asmodeus has heard a few murmurs of. He watches him tear the limbs from Grendel's body, and is reminded of another thick-skinned, single-minded oaf from the motherland. If he could only see the way his soldier has been corrupted. Asmodeus smiles. The taunt would almost be worth braving Michael's dreams. He draws his attention back towards a nearer platform.<br><br>The Duke's brat is taunted by a serpentine beast. The snake woman will likely meet her end today, but Asmodeus is more interested in Ashakiel's affairs outside the Colosseum than the bloody struggle ahead. Her father had been foolish to try to skip ahead in line to a Prince's throne, and now his haughty daughter had paid the price with her maidenhead. If she shares the late Duke's ambitions, she would work well.<br><br>The crowd begins to hoot as the next platform drifts by. An incubus, freshly turned by the look of him, touches his opponent's shoulder, and gets an armful of hot venom. Asmodeus laughs as the demon staggers back and shifts shape, rending the serpents from the gorgon's head, and ravaging her with fresh, writhing limbs. Time to tally his lieutenants' recruits and cull the herd. If they were enlisting this brashly they must be plotting against each other again. No sense in allowing them to spill each other's blood when there's so much to be done.<br><br>He flicks his wrist and pulls a pair of field glasses (http://www.neaca.com/images/Military_Field_Glasses_and_Case_Paris_1_.JPG) out of the air, examining the other noteworthy demon in today's match. The never-fail taunts her opponent with a blood offering. Asmodeus had hired her to many undertakings before, though he'd never dealt with her in his Princely form, perhaps now is the time. His vision is obstructed by a nearer platform.<br><br>He flicks the glasses away, and they crumble away into dust. The warrior is a dark winged beauty. Blond, high cheekbones, swift of foot, and a powerful sword arm, this one is surely a Valkyrie, heaven's answer to hell's icy enforcers who'd patrolled the Northlands so long ago. It was not uncommon to see them here. The Norse had embraced many as gods, and the seeds of pride were sown. This one, however, is new and powerful judging by her recovery from the Chimera's charge. Surely one to watch.<br><br>The platforms slowly circle, and Asmodeus glances about at the other bouts. A mortal sinks her blades into the flesh of a many headed beast. Another faces off against a taunting rose. Phobetor clucks and turns to the newcomer in the Princes' box. Asmodeus follows his gaze. Vetis, kneels at his lady's side, and the two exchange a few brief words. Amongst all the potential threats in the Prince's box, Phobetor keeps his eyes locked on the lithe demon, a testament to the interloper's skill as a killer. The Dark Queen's abode was home to many enigmas, and her young apprentice had certainly been one of them. He'd seen her at court a many times, always skulking about at her mistresses side like a caged hound in a den of foxes. Now a mortal's soul sits on the throne of one of the most powerful Princes ever to reign in hell, and Asmodeus knows next to nothing about her. Time to change that.<br><br>"Some wine for the new Prince, and my condolences for her loss," He says to the cringing imp at his side. He begins to hobble away when one of Asmodeus's guards palms his tiny skull.<br><br>"If it's poisoned, I'll personally burn your eyes out." The silent giant releases him, and the imp scampers away.<br><br>Moments later he approaches the Prince and her consort, head down, cup up, knees wobbling in terror.<br><br>"The D-Dream Prince s-sends wine a-and his, his condolences," he stammers, awaiting a killing blow.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelicBlade</strong> on <strong>29-06-2011, 05:16:59</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Zehair and Grendel</strong><br><br>As the crowd grew silent Zehair looked around at them for a moment. Then they started chanting "Kill him" and Zehair turned back too the massive brute now standing. Then almost with out warning it charged him and smashed it's head into him. Zehair instenctivly grabbed onto the beast as he was sent flying over the edge of the platform. There was a sickening snap and cracking sound inside a cloud of dust formed from the impact of the fall. as the cloud cleared Grendel stumbled too his feet and looked around idioticly as Zehair layed still in the small crater. Grendel looked down at the angel and smiled&nbsp; and began yelling. "ME KILL ANGEL! HAHAHA! HE WEAK, ME STRONG!!" Grendel looked back down at Zehair and his eyes grew wide as Zehair slowly stood and unfolded his demonic wings.<br><br>Zehair looked at Grendel as blood poured from a cut about his eye. "You just don't know when too die do you?! Fine, I'll make sure you stay down this time! And believe me demon. . . there will be no getting up after this!" Zehair streched out his wing and grabbed the beast and flew into the air. He chuched the demon onto the platfrom and landed. His wings dissappeared from his human body and a dark energy formed around Zehair. Zehair kicked up a cloud of dust. When the cloud clear Zehair was standing in his demonic fallen angel form. <br><br>Zehair began too speak, his voice sounded different and more demonic. "I hope this hurts beast, but I shall show you a bit of mercy, and give you a quick death." Zehair sprinted forwards with amazing speed and puchs his fist into the demons chest. Grendel stumbled backwards in pain and began screaming and Zehair ripped his hand free holding the beast's heart in his hands. Zehair squesed his hand and the heart popped into a mass of blood and the beast fell too the ground dead. Zehair returned too human form and stumbled backwards then fall too his knees. He looked at his bloody hands almost terrified. HE put his hands togather ang began too pray silently too himself. "Dear god, give me strenght. . . don't let me fall once again. Please give me the strenght too withhold in this wreched place. Please don't let me stoop too their level dear god, allow me too be your servent forever. Give me and the others strenght. I swear on my life I shall protect them too the best of my ablities." After his silent prayer he stood and looked around the arena and noticed the Incubus raping his challenger and a small scowl of disgust appeared on his face and he sighed looking around at the other gladiators.<br><br>He was pleased too see Sara was doing quiet well for herself considering she wasn't a fighter before. Zehair's gaze was diverted too the prince's box as the Prince looked down at them with a sinful grin on his face.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lithium</strong> on <strong>29-06-2011, 19:44:43</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Herja tweaked her plan slightly mid-jump, having an even better idea than simply decapitating the snake's head. Rather than have to deal with the rest of the chimera afterward, she was going to slay the beast outright. She dodged the massive talons on the chimera's front paw as she leaped up and over it, stabbing her sword with deadly force right behind the anaconda's eye socket. The strike killed the monstrous head instantly, although that was actually not the primary objective behind Herja's attack. <br><br>The valkyrie landed on the dead snake's neck, riding it as it fell limply towards the chimera's back. As she tore her sword out of the serpent, the blade came out coated with a mix of dark blood and another translucent green liquid. In fact, she'd carefully aimed her strike to puncture the anaconda's venomous gland, covering her weapon in its poison which she planned on using to kill the chimera. Gravity did it's works as Herja crashed into the creature's back, burying her sword into its powerful dorsal muscles all the way to the hilt before hopping off of it and retreating to the other end of the floating circle.<br><br>The beast roared and raised itself on its hind legs, putting on a ferocious display as it expressed its pain and rage loudly for the entire arena to hear. Once it finally fell back on to all four of its legs, the chimera began to charge wildly, but something was very off about it this time. It was slow, clumsy. The beast didn't even make it all the way across the circle before collapsing forward, paralyzed by the massive amount of venom that Herja had forced into its bloodstream.<br><br>Now that she had the time for it, the valkyrie braced herself and snapped her own shoulder back into place, grunting through gritted teeth as she did. It hurt like a bitch, but she was no stranger to pain after all the battles she'd fought in. Realizing that she needed to put an end to the chimera completely and that simply paralyzing it would be insufficient to satisfy the demonic overlords - and herself, for that matter - Herja confidently approached the beast. <br><br>She gracefully hopped up onto the monster's upper body and grabbed hold of one of the massive horns protruding from right behind the goat head. Putting both of her hands around the top of it and one foot against the base, Herja tugged on it several times with all of her might before finally tearing it off with a horrible crunching sound, several times louder than bones cracking. Panting heavily from the effort, she nevertheless managed to turn around and violently impale the goat's ugly head with the broken off piece of horn, punching a hole through its skull followed by another through its lower jaw as the horn exited through the other side. <br><br>Her body was absolutely exhausted and sore by that point, but Herja's bloodlust when it came to demons was enough to sustain her beyond her limits for a while longer. She went back to the chimera's second horn and tore that one off as well, having even more difficulty with it than the first one before finally succeeding. Jumping back down to the invisible circle upon which the battle had been fought, the valkyrie landed rather clumsily but quickly regained her footing, using her improvised weapon to support herself. With a final mighty battle cry, she brutally shoved the horn into the chimera's final head, forcing it in several feet further than was necessary. <br><br>The beast whimpered pathetically as it died out, and Herja stumbled backwards a few steps before falling to her hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air. The fight had taken every ounce of strength and willpower that that the valkyrie had left, but at least she'd live to fight another day.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DudelRok</strong> on <strong>07-07-2011, 03:47:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Tedium. That is what it had become! Once a place of glory, a way and will to fight for his lord was now a chore to partake totally separate from his goals. Hmph, even in hell politically correct bullshit reigned supreme, especially when <em>invitations</em> where given. "To think I used to revel in this," A hulking monstrous thing of magic and might marched with loud thunks of heavy feet into the ground. "To raise up my weapon to the sound of cheers in this," His sounds muddled as soft fleshy tongue slapped into the cold hard rock that was his bottom jaw. "Earned my place with this," Hing maw shifted side-to-side, clicking as gears unaligned and realigned. "Enjoyed this!" The creature raged to himself with more <em>normal</em> hand reaching up over his shoulder to grip upon his weapon. In Hell, there was no such thing as <em>paranoia</em>.<br><br>Those around looked on as The Great General, Hell's greatest military mind and most brutal fighter made his way to where he was <em>supposed to be</em>. Eviscerating, he was called, and for reasons well known. Pride he took in the damage he did, but that was not uncommon of hell, nor was pleasure brought from it, but this is where he differed from many. Oh he took joy, if his jaw able to smile he would do so with every strike of his hammer and every cut of his single claw, but it was a child like amusement with it all. It was fun, that was all. Hmph, but the Arena... now that was where the true brilliance of it all once was. No longer, now it was... <em>in the way</em>.<br><br>"I should be planning, keeping my armies <strong>FRESH</strong>. Not playing with... <em>toys</em>." It wasn't long before Eviscerating found his way to where Mnemosyne sit upon a large <em>throne</em> of pillows. Imp cowing at the Demoness‘ feet, with advisor to her ear, she seemed to be taking to her new <em>position</em> rather well. Eviscerating scoffed to himself, “Though a break may do me well,” And put his back toward the wall that sit only next to the single exit away from the high Arena perch. There should be no way for one to get behind you and stab your backside.<br><br>Why visit Mnemosyne, though? Could be that, like The Great General, she was a fighter and earned her spot. Could be that there was respect for how she handled things. Could be that she was the only one of the two that could be trusted. Could be that they knew each other from the past, Hunters often working with or for the many legions that Hell could raise. Or it could be the fact that she was <strong>no coward!</strong> Mnemosyne used her hands, her voice and her wits rather than the figments of reality to get her wishes. Asmodeus, a pretty boy who couldn’t so much swing a punch, holding power to The Lord and Master’s seat. <strong>Disgraceful!</strong> But such was not for Eviscerating to decide, nor was it his duty. No, The General was there for he would lead the armies of Hell in the greatest victory of all eternity, and not much more.<br><br>“Any worth my battlefield,” Eventually Eviscerating asked after everyone had left the two of them alone, “Or are they all weak and... squishy?” Those deep, dark, red eyes shifted to where the Arena Master sit though the signs of a Valkyrie warrior did catch him ever so slightly, “No doubt he keeps the good ones to himself.” There was no such thing as <em>paranoia</em>, in Hell.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>07-07-2011, 16:06:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Adam:</strong> <br><br>His whispered words of comfort only served to heighten the sense of betrayal when his claws reached out to swiftly mow through her mess of tangled 'hair'. Before she could cry out, his clawed hand wrapped around her throat and choked down her sobs of pain. There was surprisingly no rage. She had already known that this would be a losing battle for her. Even without the blindfold she was useless, her beautiful golden eyes having been gouged out by Balthazar himself before she was pitted into the arena. <br><br>Still, twin trails of black blood seeped out from behind the blindfold as tears of blood trickled from her sightless eyes. Her scalp was now a bald and choppy mess, the entirety of her head glistening in the same dark fluid. Not red such as a human's, but a dark, dark purple...for her venom was most potent in her blood.<br><br>Her lips parted soundlessly as he thrust into her, spreading her most intimate parts wide and gaping for all to see. Pinned down by his body and held helplessly at her throat, she could do nothing as he pummeled into her. Even so, her body writhed beneath him. Whether it was from the pain and in want of escape, or whether it was from a slight pleasure was hard to tell.<br><br>Those seated nearby roared their approval, many sexual jeers and jokes being made among themselves.<br><br><strong>Sarathiel:</strong><br><br>Too late, Argus realized the folly of his own actions. The dust that he had disturbed with his own attacks, mixed with the stirring of her feet nimbly evading as she avoided taking on a fatal wound, stung at his many eyes. Now, their small platform was hazy with dust and complaints from the spectators showed that they certainly were not pleased. Yet the Arena Master did nothing to clear the dust. Instead, he lazed in his seat, idly watching the proceedings below. Occasionally, Balthazar's whims could turd the tide of a fight between contestants. Today, he felt no intention to do so. The slave girl kneeling between his legs desperately lapped at his perfect cock. One all men would envy, and women feared for its size. His gaze turned from the arena floor to her and her head bobbed even faster, dread in her eyes knowing what would happen if he lost interest in her, fear knowing the consequences of if she displeased him.<br><br>Despite the covering of dust, Argus's form was still quite visible due to the glow of his fire. His body seemed more human-like now, the blue from his eyes no longer so prominent as they squinted against the offending dust and smoke. Something stirred near him, and before he could dodge, he felt her blade pierce between his shoulders as he fell forward from the momentum.<br><br>Through the settling haze, the hint of a smile could be seen on his lips. His eyes, which had stayed closed throughout their entire meeting, opened to gaze evenly at the angel. A warm kindness could be seen within the depths of sparkling blue before his body erupted into hot flames, the fire seeming to eat away at him. Was it Sarathiel's imagination or did his whisper a soft "Thank you" before those alluring eyes closed forever?<br><br>Dark ashes lay where Argus's fallen body had been a mere few seconds ago. On afterthought, his defeat had seemed almost <em>too</em> easy. Perhaps the one who owed a favor was the mythical peacock...<br><br>Nearby, the stands went wild, no longer upset that they were unable to clearly see as the killing blow had been delivered. In their minds, the first death had occurred and that was all that mattered. <br><br><strong>Zehair:</strong><br><br>As Zehair's hand disappeared into Grendel's muscled chest, the monster was stopped dead in his tracks due to utter surprise. The hard scales that he had always been so proud of, the scales that he protected him from various onslaughts, those very scales had been penetrated and broken through to the heavily muscled -- but soft -- flesh beneath.<br><br>Yet when that very hand reappeared before him, slick with his own blood and holding his still-beating heart, Grendel stared dumbfounded. He was a monster of brute strength and little intelligence, but realization dawned slowly in his dying eyes. Horror, anger, and then despair flashed through those barbaric eyes before he took a stumbling step forwards in an attempt to retrieve his most precious organ. Only to watch it squeezed and burst within the demonic angel's hand. <br><br>Grendel toppled forwards one last time, a cry of defeat bubbling from his throat before he fell. Life no longer ran through his veins and Grendel would rise no more.<br><br>It is no easy feat to squeeze a heart to pulp with bare hands. Despite that fact, Zehair had easily disposed of the tough and muscled organ like paper being crumpled. The audience sat stunned for a moment, most had been convinced Grendel would rip the wings from the angel and dispose of him. Bathed in the blood of his opponent, the fallen angel was quite a sight. Almost fearsome. After a pause, the stands erupted into cheers. <br><br>Another fight won and over with.<br><br><strong>Herja:</strong><br><br>Out of all the fights, those with seemingly the most mesmerized spectators were those watching the Valkyrie. From the beginning, she had been the most battered of the contestants, the odds were against her and victory for the chimera seemed certain. <br><br>Yet the chimera lay dead, its own proud horns brutally removed only to be gouged into a new location. <br><br>Surprise was the Valkyrie's winning factor, along with the chimera underestimating the injured angel. Pride and confidence had fueled it, the injuries it sustained so far were merely lucky strikes. Until its 'tail' fell limply forwards, her sword jutting out of its other eye socket leaving the venomous snake's corpse completely sightless.<br><br>The chimera roared with anger, startled at the sudden attack, but twisting to try and swipe at her. Too slow, too late. Her blade pierced through its back in a sear of heat that only heightened the beast's anger. Again, it charged towards her...but the world kept moving, swimming before its eyes as darkness slowly settled in. Eyes still focused on their opponent, tunnel-vision showed their prey right before them and yet they weren't moving forwards. The venom from their own counterpart pulsed through their system causing their body to feel stiff and sluggish. Finally, it collapsed, unable to move.<br><br>They watched through limited sight as the angel approached, felt her clamber atop its shoulders, and then pain. Pain. Mind-numbing, searing pain exploded in their minds. No. It was actually coming from their head. This thought became one instead of two as death embraced the other. Now, only the human head of the chimera was left and fear creeped into its consciousness. Whimpering, but not yet begging for mercy, its chance was cut off as it too met face to face with its horn. Quite literally.<br><br>The eyes of more than one Prince had watched the fight with interest, but the lesser demons seated within the stands voiced their opinion without restraint. Angel she may be, but the fight had been brutal and sated their bloodlust.<br><br><div align="center">*&nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; *&nbsp; &nbsp; *</div><br>As each fight was completed, those specific platforms slowly lowered back down to the arena grounds. Iron bars materialized as the runes glowed once again, the victorious slaves finding themselves trapped within their cells as their chosen weapons disintegrated. The carcasses of their opponents were unceremoniously tossed to the side, as the Arena Guards stepped in once the runes disappeared from the ground, only to kick and tug at the dead to dispose of them. Eventually, some would be fed and feasted upon by the various lowlifes of Hell. Perhaps even the Legion would swarm in a desperate need to sate their hunger for flesh and blood.<br><br>Balthazar stood, the girl was now merely in his way and he stated so by tossing her bodily to the side, leaving her to whimper in pain as she trembled unsure of whether or not she was allowed to leave. Again, his voice boomed clear throughout the stadium, sarcasm dripping from his words as he addressed the three winners thus far. "Well fought, angels. It seems that you shall live to serve as another day's entertainment. I trust that everyone approved of our celestial friends?" The shouts of approval from the crowd was not what he had truly been looking for, instead his eyes flicked to the Prince's seats around the stadium and noted with a smirk that many were nodding ever so slightly...and those who were not held a particular gleam in their eyes.<br><br>Oh yes, satisfaction was just one word to describe the feelings he saw. <br><br>"Let us hope that the <em>rest</em> of our slaves fare just as well then!" With those words of dismissal, the three cages began their slow descent downwards, returning to the dark depths of the arena. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>07-07-2011, 22:07:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Prince's Box:</strong><br><br>As the nervous imp carefully approached, having waddled his way over past the several feet between Asmodeous and Mnemosyne's viewing balconies, its overly large eyes were fixed directly on the goblet it held as if this would ensure that it did not accidentally spill a drop of the precious liquid within. Without waiting for permission or an invitation to enter her box, the imp approached her throne of pillows and stopped at Vetis's side. Head bowed and cup held high in shaking hands, the wine threatened to spill out at any moment.<br><br>Vetis's response was quick and immediate, blade drawn and resting against the imp's neck. It was only his Prince's small wave that prevented him from slicing off the unfortunate demon's head in one fluid motion. Murmured below his breath, he slowly removed the sharp edge of his blade. "You are fortunate that the Prince is letting you live to see another day..." The imp swallowed, fighting the urge to grasp at its neck and ensure that its head was truly still attached to its shoulders. Instead, it once again offered its cup to Mnemosyne. <br><br>"The D-Dream Prince s-sends wine a-and his, his condolences," it stammered, the wine practically spilling from its shaking hands.<br><br>Vetis plucked the glass from its hands, giving the pathetic little imp a look of undisguised distaste. "Tell your Prince that he has my thanks. I'm sure the Queen of Darkness would have liked to be here today." Hearing its dismissal, it quickly scampered back the way it came, never once looking back. Mnemosyne motioned for the cup, only to be met by Vetis's objections. "But, my Lady, it may be poisoned or spelled." He had been about to summon another to test for traces of treachery, yet she reached over languidly and swirled the glass lightly. "I doubt Asmodeous would be foolish enough to resort to poisoning my drink. Such a lowly tactic would be too straightforward and tactless for the Prince of Dreams." Catching the Dream Prince's eye, she tipped her cup in a small toast before taking a sip from it.<br><br>"Besides, with you by my side it would take more than a bit of poison to rid the throne of me. Would it not?" Vetis, the Demon of Corruption, was one of the many that Mnemosyne had been sent to dispatch of. The Queen of Darkness herself was mildly surprised when her apprentice returned with a pet in tow. A pet without a collar and leash for that matter. While many rumors claimed that the handsome demon was merely biding his time, waiting for his chance at the throne, they were not that far off the mark. Respect, fear, and power held Vetis to her...but Mnemosyne knew that if she ever showed a hint of weakness before him, he would be one of the first to turn his blade against her.<br><br>The presence of another alerted the both of them, Vetis bowing slightly before he excused himself to stand guard at her balcony's entrance. Mnemosyne took another sip of her newly procured wine, eyes steadily watching the fights before them. "Hmm, I'm sure that none shall entertain you for long, much less live up to your high expectations. For all cower before the might of the Great General, do they not?" She stayed seated as she was, sprawled comfortably upon her makeshift 'throne'. Before, when she was still her Queen's apprentice, she would have done as Vetis had. Bowed and paid her respects before stepping to the side. Now, the circumstances were different. New to the throne and human she may be, however they were deemed equals now. Perhaps not in strength or seniority, but certainly in rank.<br><br>She chuckled softly at the comment about the Arena Master. Yes, there certainly was no doubt in her mind that Balthazar kept a few select 'goods' to himself. <br><br>"And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Eviscerating?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>08-07-2011, 04:03:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashakiel<br><br>Ashakiel stood rigid, her head held high, the flowing waves of her dark hair settled around her like a curtain.&nbsp; The only sign of her trepidation the hard line of her lush lips and the clenched fists of her hands.&nbsp; She watched as the the red glare of the sky came through the portal above her as she was raised to the Arena above.&nbsp; The hard line of her mouth twitched as she felt abrupt disdain for the cheering masses.&nbsp; As she blinked in the brighter light of Hell's 'day' she suddenly felt self conscious of her appearance.&nbsp; She had always prided herself on her stately manner and now she was on display like a common whore.&nbsp; If she could shudder she would.&nbsp; <br><br>Her myriad of thought was interrupted by a growing shaft of pulsing light.&nbsp; In the depths was the form of a woman but when the light disappeared what stood before her was nothing more than another lowlife of Hell.&nbsp; The hissing voice that spoke gave flame to the burning anger in her belly and her rage fueled by her remembrance of humiliation.<br><br>"You over step yourself, dung snake, but if you must know.&nbsp; He needs more practice on how to please a woman or at least a bigger appendage," Ashakiel sneered.&nbsp; Her eyes never leaving the blade that drew lines in the sand.&nbsp; Lines that Ashakiel would cross.&nbsp; She had so much rage inside her and she itched to bring it forth.&nbsp; At her feet was a scimitar.&nbsp; The silver glinted up at her but the Echidna's tail was much too close.&nbsp; She was quite aware of the speed and strength of such a tail.&nbsp; <br><br>Wary, she waited.&nbsp; She needed an opening to wipe that smug grin from the bitch's face.&nbsp; The coils that roiled beneath the voluptuous form of the monster.&nbsp; The ground began to shake and the grains of sound pouring off the sides to reveal a platform of glass.&nbsp; It was all the distraction Ashakiel needed and her hand wrapped about the handle of her newly acquired weapon as she dashed forward the wicked edge of her scimitar cutting the air towards her opponent.&nbsp; The loud clash of metal and the sparking scrape as the heavier blade of the Echidna met hers.<br><br>Ashakiel fought everything she had not to&nbsp; shrink away as the snake woman's forked tongue hissed out to lick her face.&nbsp; She found herself staring into eyes of black darkness.&nbsp; The beating of her heart rushed loud to her ears and she fought the trembling of her fingers.&nbsp; Her eyes narrowed as she saw the snake woman transfer the sword from her hand to her tail.<br><br>"You need a mint but my fist will have to do," Ashakiel quipped, letting loose with her balled fist and smashing it against delicate cheekbones.&nbsp; The Echidna had enormous strength but their bones were soft.&nbsp; The high pitched scream confirmed it for Ashakiel as she pranced back out of the way of a wildly swinging blade and tail.<br><br>"I'll make you pay for that.&nbsp; I'm going to take it out on your high and mighty ass," said the Echidna.&nbsp; She slithered forth, heavy blade weaving angry strokes.<br><br>"Yeah, at least I have one.&nbsp; Must make fucking a bother when you can't get off.&nbsp; Must be why you asked.&nbsp; Can't feel cock so you gotta ask about it.&nbsp; To be honest, I don't know why I held off on sex all these centuries.&nbsp; Maybe now, I will be the Dark Whore.&nbsp; I girl has to reinvent herself," Ashakiel taunted.<br>&nbsp;<br>The two demons met in the middle in a whir of blades.&nbsp; The snakewoman heavier blade only was pushed aside by the smaller demons scimitar.&nbsp; The dangerous dance came close to the edge of the platform so many times, there were audible gasps from the crowd.&nbsp; Ashakiel wondered how much longer she could go on.&nbsp; Already a few other slaves had moved on and won their matches.&nbsp; Bully for them.&nbsp; A mighty roar from the crowd actually distracted her and her scimitar went flying, clattering from the platform.&nbsp; She didn't even have time to watch it as she felt the steel coils of the Echidna's tails wrap around her chest and begin to squeeze.&nbsp; It was so tight that her breasts, which had manged to miraculously stay in place this whole time, finally popped free.<br><br>"Well, look what we have here.&nbsp; Your royal tits are quite nice.&nbsp; It's a shame they'll be useless when I kill you," the Echidna hisses, her forked tongue slithering over the tops of Ashakiel's breasts before wrapping around a hardening nipple.<br><br>Ashakiel winced, her face red with anger and more.&nbsp; She had fought valiantly with her proferred weapon but she wasn't cold frigid just for her cold demeanor.&nbsp; She let the snakewoman underestimate her and that was the biggest mistake that could be made.&nbsp; Her arms were trapped but her hands were still free.<br><br>"Enjoy them while you can because your are dead," Ashakiel said, her smile colder than a frozen wasteland.&nbsp; Her collar dampened her power but she still had enough.&nbsp; Her hands touched the snaketail squeezing the breath from her and she called upon the burning frost of her power.&nbsp; Frothy ice spread out from her palms the sound of crackling ice moving over the coils.&nbsp; She had a moment of satisfaction as the bitch screamed, that scream becoming louder as Ashakiel flexed and the coils shattered.&nbsp; <br><br>The Echidna landed on her back and writhed as her the stump of her tail flailed through the air.&nbsp; Ashakiel jumped on top of the snake woman's torso her hand forming into claws.&nbsp; She raised that had in a strike above her head and glared down at the stinking bitch, her hand at the Echidna's throat.&nbsp; She saw fear in the slitted snake eyes and she drank that fear in.<br><br>"Did you actually think that I of all people would allow myself to be used without reason?&nbsp; That I would let myself be killed by such shit as you?&nbsp; Don't make me laugh," Ashakiel said.&nbsp; The Echidna's movements were sluggish as torpor seeped into her limbs, the monster's body growing cold from such close contact.&nbsp; She had enough and plunged her hand into the snakewoman's chest through the breast.&nbsp; She ignored the screams as she rooted around for the heart.<br><br>A cheer rose up as she pulled it free and tossed it aside.&nbsp; Her hand dripped drops of crystallized blood.&nbsp; She turned and face the Prince's box and gave them all the finger.&nbsp; It was crude but Ashakiel no longer cared.&nbsp; She no longer pretended the prude.&nbsp; She was bitter and angry and one of those Princes had violated her and now....now she was unleashed.<br><br>Her salute cued the return of her cage and the return to the slave pens.&nbsp; This was her fate now but she had plans and they did not include this as her lot in life.&nbsp; She belatedly realized that her chest was still exposed.&nbsp; She used her bloody hand to tuck herself back into place and then sat against the bars to lick the blood of her fallen enemy from her hand.&nbsp; "Mmm, taste's like chicken."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lore</strong> on <strong>08-07-2011, 04:18:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sarathiel had unceremoniously collapsed to her knees in the wake of her victory, her features awash with confusion in the sparse lingering dust and dark ashes dancing gracefully around her cell as if indifferent to the carnage all around. The roar of the crowds was as lost upon her ears as the Arena Master's oration. Her thoughts were for the fallen alone. The unanticipated warmth in Argus' eyes was etched indelibly into her memory, and his parting words echoed through her imagination during her decent. She had though them grateful, but could not interpret his thanks with clarity. <br><br>Lucidity was a luxury she sorely lacked since the seemingly delicate band of leather had been fitted about her narrow porcelain throat. Perhaps if her mind were perfect and unbound, there would have been some perceivable logic in her opponent's demise, but she was left grappling in the darkness for answers that would not come. <br><br>He had been a good man, she decided, one whom she'd killed out of cowardice alone. Her first murder had been a self serving one, and she could not forgive herself it. Her heart tore with ache. Tears began to silently stream down her cheeks and pool at her trembling chin. She angled herself so that neither of the angelic warriors flanking her could see her lapse into self loathing weakness, leaving her tear riddled features exposed to the passing corridors alone. The company of her battle tried counterparts only compacted her palpable shame. <br><br>With careful subtlety, she tore off a small portion of her wrappings, gathered what she could of Argus' ashes, and bundled them away. The arena was no fit resting place for anyone, let alone a decent soul. The former angel tied the small pouch at her hip, where it looked the part of a simple and inconspicuous embellishment to her garment. With her work done, she remained seated in her cooling cell, awaiting what was to come with a apprehension and no small measure of misery. <br><br>Her tongue loosened in her grief, and at the sounds of the sanguine satisfaction coming from the newly arrived cage, her lips curled into a disgusted snarl. "You are repulsive." She snapped lowly, pink swollen eyes darting toward Ashakiel. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>DudelRok</strong> on <strong>08-07-2011, 05:19:18</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<em>"Hmm, I'm sure that none shall entertain you for long, much less live up to your high expectations.”</em><br><br>Oh the pleasures of having a reputation. While many where no warriors, it never hurt to throw sheep at the wolves so that they grow fat and tired before the true battle started. Though if only a few of them tasted good, they could have use as playthings in a more... special kind of matter.<br><br><em>“For all cower before the might of the Great General, do they not?”</em><br><br>Flattery will get one everywhere, “The one’s still alive, anyway.” A gruff, <strong>deep</strong> and evil laugh pushed itself up through that mouth of his. Eviscerating did have reason to be smug, after all, he had earned his place with not much more than his hammer and viciousness. Though there were always those within the ranks who envied their General’s post and power... as well as those who were tempted to take it.<br><br><em>"And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Eviscerating?"</em><br><br>That ruined a quickly blossoming good mood of memories past, thinking of fools who dared challenge him and the mess their bodies made after. Laugh turned inaudible growl, least not offend his <em>gracious host</em> for her time. Why was Eviscerating there, <strong>indeed?</strong><br><br>Looking back from the Slave Master to Mnemosyne, and doing his best to stay calm. “<em>Politics</em>,” The beast grumbled, “Recruits,” He cracked his jaw from left to right, gears grinding as the pool of annoyance rising in him, “Hunters training minions,” It all became a stressful groan like that of a lion yawning as his clawed hand went up to his distorted face and gently touched the flesh of his forehead, “Shit that would be handled <strong>by the Marquis</strong> if he had <strong>any</strong> knowledge of <strong>war</strong> and <strong>combat</strong>.” Micro-management, asking of favors, <strong><em>bureaucratics</em></strong>... not Eviscerating’s strong suits. Luck on his side, perhaps? Such things never really seemed Mnemosyne’s favored tasks either. Though there was one really good reason to be at the arena, “After which, perhaps I might <em>play</em> to let off this... <em>frustration.</em> But that does not require your assistance unless you wish it.” There was no real time for such things but that tings in the pit of his stomach told him something had to be done. It was times like this that Eviscerating missed his glory days in battle. Hell needed another great war, even if it was a war among the classes.<br><br>A slight chill passed by, which was odd in a place such as Hell. Eyes moving to where it felt to be coming from. There was a woman who appeared not of challenge, yet showed the crowed she clearly no underdog. The way she stood over her kill. Hmm...ruthlessness of battle with no regard for life? Coupled with a FIRE of indignation for those above. Yes, Eviscerating like. “Are you quite <em>sure</em> none are worth the time?”
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>FallenFeather</strong> on <strong>09-07-2011, 09:51:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Vess kept smirking at the spider-woman. It seemed that at the moment, they were at a stalemate. Despite the fact that Vess stayed absolutely still, she planned out every move in her mind. Every possibility was carefully thought out. If the spider charged, she would have dodged to the left, and then while the spider had been turning, would have thrown the dagger at her torso. Undoubtedly, it would had either missed its mark completely, or hit elsewhere on the spider’s human body. If it didn’t, then she would have jumped back. If it had, she would have charged in that split second it hit. And the web of moves kept branching off, depending on possible reactions of the drider. Unfortunately, the web was going to force Vess’s hand and much to her dismay, she would have to make the first move. Allowing a spider to lay their web was a dangerous and foolish thing to do.<br><br>Unfortunately, while she kept planning, the platform started to move. From the corner of her eye, she could see the dust blowing away and grass appearing. Well crap. The blood wasn’t just for show or as a taunt. In almost all scenarios, Vess used it along with the dust it mixed with to throw into the opponent’s eyes to momentarily blind her for an opportunity. Her first attack would have been at the joints of the legs. No matter what the spider would do, she planned on sliding beneath the spider’s body, using the longer blade to cut the joints on one side, rendering those three legs useless. It wouldn’t have completely rendered her immobile, but it would have helped. She then would have either done it again or jumped over the spider or some other evasive maneuver depending on where she was, to get to the blood/dust mixture. It couldn’t just be dust to throw into the eyes. Dust was easy to wipe away or cry out. Mixed with blood, the dust would get under the eyelids and stuck there far longer. <br><br>But now the dust was gone, and with it was the series of moves that Vess had thought out. On top of that, the web was hindering her ability to slide under the spider. Her fists clenched, the only outward sign that she was getting frustrated. Long nails dug into her palms, further opening the cut on her left hand, blood dripping from her knuckles. She needed to come out of this with as little damage as possible. Who knew what would happen once these rounds were over. Whether it was torture or another fight, she needed as much energy and the least amount of injuries possible. <br><br>Vess tested the strength of her abilities. Her shadow on the ground rippled. The woman glanced at it out of the corner of her eye. Good. It was still there, though weak and limited. She hadn’t felt any of her power in the cell. Perhaps they had returned it to her in the arena. Whether it was because they didn’t believe her to be able to survive without it or it provided a more interesting show, it didn’t matter to Vess. It would make this fight a lot easier. She would just have to move fast, and fast was one of her specialties. A grin spread on her face. The drider’s eyes narrowed as she continued to spin her web.<br><br>Barely crouching, Vess shot up in the air. The woman practically flew at the height she jumped. If only she could spread her wings and just fly away right there. However, she could feel the pressure of the collar keeping her in the arena. Already, at this height, her head felt like it was going to implode. She knew that the feeling would worsen if she ever decided to venture further. Of course, she also was aware of the fact that once she fell back to the platform, the pressure would subside. <br><br>Now, Vess hadn’t merely just jumped in the air. The sun was to her back, forcing the woman to crane her neck to follow her movements. When Vess’s form was encircled by Hell’s hot sun, the drider attempted to shade her eyes by raising one arm to get a better view of Vess. Not entirely part of Vess’s plan either. Almost… now. The assassin’s shadow connected with the spider’s shadow. The second the two shadows blended, black tendrils shot from the spider’s shadow, wrapping themselves tightly around its form. Black ropes bound her human and spider body. Legs were pressed together, almost knocking her off balance. The larger tendrils wrapped tightly around the body of the spider, keeping it in place. More tendrils still wrapped around her human form, binding her arms, one at her side and one still raised up. <br><br>As the tendrils shot up from the joined shadows, Vess dropped onto the spider’s back. Something this big would take longer to hold and the collar’s power didn’t allow for that. Normally, she wouldn’t even have to blend her shadow initially. But her power was severely weakened, and Vess needed to take extra precautionary steps to ensure her powers would stay long enough. <br><br>The spider-woman growled at the assassin, who didn’t even give the creature a chance to put together any scathing words. Before even straightening up or turning around to face the human body, Vess stabbed backwards with the short sword. The blade pierced the woman’s heart. A horrible screech erupted from the woman, even as the assassin twisted the sword within the woman. The drider writhed within the binds of the shadow tendrils. Finally, Vess spun around, grabbing the blade with the other hand. She continued turning, using the momentum the cut through the ribs and half of her torso. Cutting her hand had served another purpose: to test the sharpness of the blade. She had to know it could cut through bone. The cut on her hand had been clean. The cut through half the woman was anything but. The blade was sharp enough to cut through bone, but not sharp enough to cut cleanly. The cut through the flesh was jagged and rough, like a cut from a serrated knife. <br><br>Blood splattered along the path of the sword. As the tendrils started to retreat and the drider started to collapse, Vess jumped off the back of the spider, flipping in the air to land facing the body. Even as the body fell to the ground, the tendrils left seemed to squeeze harder. The body kept falling, but the tendrils holding the upper body seemed to pull the other way. With a sickening rip, the shadows ripped the remainder of the upper torso from the spider’s body, completely ripping the woman’s body in half. Blood spurted from the stumps of the body and the upper torso, the two halves of the heart still beating, pouring the blood out in streams and fountains. <br><br>With the task completely, the tendrils fade away. The upper half fell to the ground to join the rest of the body, blank eyes staring at the sky. Vess looked at the Prince’s box finally, glancing at each one of their faces personally. There was no anger, nor fear in her eyes. There was no emotion behind them. Pure calculating eyes. Despite blood gushing from the corpse, creating a pool around the body and stains around the platform from splash damage, the only blood on Vess was that from her own inflicted wound. Somehow, no other blood managed to get on her, a physical impossibility. Even as the platform retreated back into the cell, Vess continued to stare emotionlessly at the Princes.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Dashenka</strong> on <strong>09-07-2011, 13:26:23</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Aldora, mistress of Frost</strong><br><br>When the battle was finally over, Aldora had been visibly bored, she was the first to get up from her seat, ordered her minions to collect her slaves and left the arena. She rode to her outrageously large mansion and prepared everything for the arrival of the new slaves. It was rare that she was given two males, since most of her slaves were female. Although Aldora was keen on manners and morals, this time she couldn't be bothered by seperating the female slaves from the males and after a cell had been cleaned she waited outside for the carriage to arrive with her slaves. <br><br>It wasn't metal bars and iron. No, Aldora was a bit flamboyant and maybe a bit too flamboyant for a Slave Mistress but she didn't care. The carriage her slaves rode was a metal flat board to sit on, the bars and roof of the cell wasn't made of iron though but erected in ice. It looked good and because of the extreme temperatures in hell, the coolness of the ice was highly uncomfortable for the slaves riding it. They were roughly selected from the group of slaves and thrown into the cell. Then their journey began, over the endless dead plains towards the mansion. <br><br>They were greeted by a lush green driveway, with trees and a pond, all a facade to hide what was going on inside the walls of the massive house. As the reached the porch of the house, Aldora snapped her fingers and the ice instantly melted, showering the two slaves inside it with ice cold water.<br><br>"Do not attempt to run or I will make you suffer and since you are in Hell, it'll be endless. Literally."<br><br>The two slaves were pulled off the carriage and thrown on the floor and then told to stand up. <br><br>"Herja, and Ashakiel. From now on your names will be totally irrelevant. A mere memory to a different life. Today you new life starts. Or should I say death?"<br><br>Wearing a pristine white feathery cloak, Aldora looked more like an angel than a real demon but the flickering of her forked tongue betrayed her true nature, as did they venomous green eyes.<br><br>"I have a couple of rules you will obey. If you for some reason fail to obey you will suffer. If you fail again, you will suffer more. Since I cannot kill you myself I will just have to torture you up to a point where you will be begging me to do so and I hereby give you the answer. I will not."<br><br>She paced around the three slaves and inspected them, feeling them, touching them, looking at them.<br><br>"If you are in some way supernatural or have wings or other forms than this, do not attempt to use them in here. Your human form is what you will use unless told otherwise."<br><br>When she was done inspecting them she walked the stairs to the porch and spoke to them from her high position.<br><br>"You are new slaves which means you are lowest in rank. Other slaves have more rights, which, in time, you can earn as well. For now though, you are worthless sacks of meat which I will have to train to please the princes. <br><br>With that she left the patio and walked indoors. Quickly the three slaves were bound and guided to the lowest of levels in a large cavern system under the house. Hundreds of slaves were held here, some walked freely, others were bound. Unlike the carriage, the cellblock they were guided to was made of rock and iron. A secluded corner of the cave with four cells. One of the cells held a young lady and soon Herja was locked in the cell next to her. Ashakiel was given the cell on the opposite site of the cellblock.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelicBlade</strong> on <strong>09-07-2011, 18:36:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Zehair prayed even more when the his cage began to lower. Eventually Zehair closed his eyes and held his hands togather and he kneeled and began too think upon his past life as an angel. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br><br><br><strong>Zehair's Memory</strong><br><br>Zehair smiled as he looked at his small army, they had done well and were awaiting a relief force. Zehair stood and walked over too his lover. Feritha looked over at him and smiled. Zehair placed his left hand on the on her head is slide it down he long beutiful brown hair. HE gave her a small kiss before he heard a horn blown in the distance. Zehair quickly stepped back and looked at his men. "To arms men! The demons come again! Let us show them why they failed all the other times they tried!" Zehair drew his blade and pulled his hood off, seeing as it gave no real protection it would only hinder him. He looked over at&nbsp; Feritha and smiled at her, she smiled back and nodded. The angel force flew up and waited for the demonic horde. As the sound of heavy feet marching drew closer Zehair's grin got bigger, he enjoyed watching countless demons crumble at his feet as he cut through their worthless husks. Finally! The enemy army appeared, lead by a prince. Zehair's grin disappeared and he looked over at Feritha. She gave him a reassuring smile and Zehair looked back at the demons. "Feritha, I want you too stay away from the prince, he's mine. Got it?" Feritha nodded and drew her battle staff.<br><br>After a very small moment of slience both armies charge one another. Once they clashed it was almost like and allout brawl between two gangs. But this was much different, much more. . . brutal and almost savage. Zehair shook his head slightly at the sight and flew into the bulk of the demon army, he began too chop down countless demons and this gave his men high moral. Zehair's armor thick and enchanted so e recieved minimal damage from the foot grunts. Zehair raised his sword and said a few angelic word and slamed his sword down in an arch and a huge wave of holy energies cut through the demon army. How many of them could there possable be?! Finally Zehair reached the prince and panted slightly. The prince smiled and snapped his fingers and a black sythe with a blood red blade appeared. The prince grabbed the scythe and spun it for a second before looking at Zehair. "I'm inpressed, you made your way too me. you fight much better than the other angels, and archangel I pressume?" Zehair grunt slightly and sighed then looked back up at the prince. "I am the archangel of might, I am the strongest melee archangel in all of heaven." The prince grin and laughed. " Then let's see what you can do." Zehair and the prince rushed eachother at the same time and clashed blades, the prince felt himself being pushed back by sheer force and grunted. The prince braught his hand up and a dark red ball formed in it and he flung it at Zehair while they clashed. Zehair flew backwards and skitted across the ground before he stood and charged forward swinging his sword to the left sending a wave of holy energy with it. As the energies slammed into the princed right arm it was chopped off by the wave. The prince howled in pain and held what os left of his right arm. The prince gathered his energy to his stump and created a makeshift energy arm and charged Zehair getting into a heated melee battle. The progressed for a few hours and by the end of it the prince and Zehair were worn out. Zehair looked back and saw what was left of his army cut down the last of the demon horde. The prince scowled and let out a yell of rage. "DON'T FUCK WITH ME ANGELS! I WILL END YOU ALL! NOW, FACE MY TRUE POWER!" The prince transformed into his demonic form and he held a sythe in each hand now, his body now drapped in a pitch black cloak with what looked like souls swurling in and on it. His face turned too bone along with any flesh he had. "Now, let's continue, angel. . ." Zehair readied his blade and the two got into another heated melee battle, the angeilic army dared not intervien. Eventually Zehair stood pantinf over the prince. The prince layed in a puddle of blood and he seemed too be dead. Feritha ran over too Zehair and wrapped her arms around him. Zehair smiled and kissed her forehead. She stepped back and looked up at him. "You were amazing Zehair! You even beat a prince!" Zehair laughed and looked back at the prince. He layed still in his blood, not moving. "Let's get out of here, shall we?" Feritha smiled and turned around and began walking too the others. Zehair stopped because he heard a noise. He turned back at the prince and saw him charging a massive ball of energy. Zehair turned back too his friends and loved one and yelled. "Move, get out of the way!" Feritha turned around and looked at Zehair then the prince. Her face was shrouded in fear as she started too run towards Zehair, but it was too late. The prince let off his attack and destroyed everything in it's path. Feritha had a huge hole in her torso, while the rest of his army was blow too bits by the attack's esplosion. Zehair stubbled too Feritha's side and fell too his knees tears running down his face. He placed his hand on the side of her face and then closed her eyes. Zehair sat there crying for a little bit before he kissed her one last time before standing and looked at the prince. "Heh, unngh. . . This may be my last moments, but I'll make sure you can never go back angel of might!" The prince stabbed his hand into his chest and pulled out a small escence. The prince threw his life escence into Zehair and then withered away. Zehair fell too his knees in pain. He looked over at Feritha one last time before blacking out.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil1989</strong> on <strong>14-07-2011, 22:54:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Adam - Finishing the Gorgon.</strong><br><br>She was tight and her head, and surprisingly her eyes, were bleeding her potent venom all over the place.&nbsp; Thankfully it had no way to pierce through his skin save for the snake bites he had received earlier.&nbsp; Even so, those were healed up already, and so even that entry point was no longer and option as he continued to ram his four phallic tendrils deep inside the woman's body again and again.&nbsp; He was going to put on a bit of a show as he held her at arm's length for the crowd to see, and the cheers he got back only spurred him on harder and faster than ever.&nbsp; His free hand cupped a breast and squeezed and moved it about while he was at it, feeling close to popping a load already as he continued the brutal rape.&nbsp; Her belly writhed and moved about with each powerful thrust of his four tentacles that were in both of her holes, while two more appeared to hover about her face and breasts, ready to squirt their own cum when he climaxed all over her.&nbsp; His sexual desires didn't relieve themselves at all, just as the Cerberus said they wouldn't, but it still felt amazing all the same to the new incubus, so he couldn't really complain.&nbsp; Groaning shortly after the appearance of the two new tendrils that matched his skin color, Adam roared as his tentacles exploded and filled the Gorgon almost until her gut exploded.&nbsp; He casually dropped her to the wayside after hosing her front down at the same time, and let his pleasure tools disappear a moment later, panting but smiling like a madman as he looked up to the cheering crowd as the girl was left to leak out his cum from her abused holes.&nbsp; Going over to her, he let his clawed hand drive into her chest and rip her heart in two before moving away and going back to his human form.&nbsp; "Are you not entertained?!"<br><br>((I had to.&nbsp; &nbsp;;D))
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Ironwolf85</strong> on <strong>15-07-2011, 06:56:19</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Sergio - in the stands</strong><br>one of the other primortals elbowed him in the side "did you see that... Boy's a born badass." the hollars were loud, the cat calls more so, and others roaring. more than a few had gotten off watching that. Nhym next to him had a girl between his legs and had splattered her in a synch climax. Sdergio simply took a puff of his cigar, the sweet aroma wafting up into the air. "yeah... just great, he'll probably wind up a champ, dumb fucker." "oh what are you talking about Serg, ain't that a good thing?" "unless you have the contract to diliver an orgasam like that to thousands of fans..."<br>the Primal looked over at him and almost choked on his drink "seriously? you took a contract like that... isn't that for for..." "think about it dipshit, contract for nearly a three thousand of these dip shits owing me a favor, three entire divisions of the black armies ready to turn on a moment's notice on promise day, having no choice when things are called in. heck, the numbers keep adding up." Sergio smiled his glowing eyes looking at his counterpart.<br>"dude, so much for your badass rep" the other laughed sergio looked at him sideways. "actually... I'm kind of thirsty." before the other primordal could respond sergio cold clocked him and threw him over the rail where he hit the edge of the arena and his coil left his body, returning to it's scion before disolving. "anyone else?" the others actually cheered him as he downd the drink, sweet spicy and warm.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>jayline</strong> on <strong>29-07-2011, 00:58:34</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>The Princes' Box</strong><br><br>Asmodeus watches, and is pleasantly surprised to see the huntress accept the offering tipping her cup with dignified grace. Strong, tactful, and bold. The Queen indeed had a worthy successor. Already she's drawn the attention of Eviscerating, the bloodthirsty golem. He'd noted the way the other Princes had sized her up. The foolish ones, those bound to fall within a century or so, eyed her seat with hunger, the wise, with fear and respect. Asmodeus is certain she will prove to be a potent ally and adversary.<br><br>The imp returns, bowing and sputtering, "Lord, her grace, b-bids you her thanks, and w-would inform you tha-"<br><br>"Silence. It is insulting enough that you should bandy my words so crudely, much less hers." He opens his hand and a long blade flicks open.<br><br>"Run." The imp scampers away in a panic, and Asmodeus strokes Phobetor's neck.<br><br>"Kill," he murmurs and the bird lifts from his shoulders. Momentarily, a pained scream is heard in the distance.<br><br>The matches continue, blood is shed, cheers cried, Asmodeus claps occasionally as combatants meet their end, but his mind is elsewhere. He rises as Phobetor settles back on his shoulder, and walks to Mnemosyne's seat, touching his breast and bowing to the other Princes. His bodyguards stand rigidly at attention, and Phobetor's baleful eyes glare at Vetis. Asmodeus rises.<br><br>"The match is over, and it appears the others have deemed us Princes of favor," He makes a gesture towards the other Princes, who glower defiantly at the three, yet make no move towards the slave pens. He nods to Mnemosyne.<br><br>"Your mistress would be proud to see her protege held in such high regard. Though I'm sure you know that your reign shall soon be tested." He waves his hand and an ornate silver chair rises up behind him. He sits down in it, crossing his legs.<br><br>"But I am boring you and the General with my prattle. I'm sure you are both as anxious as I to proceed. What are your bids?" His eyes wander between Mnemosyne's and Eviscerating's as he waits, stroking a pendant on his chest.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>30-07-2011, 03:16:22</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Praetor watched the battle unfold with rapt attention. It seemed that Sarathiel had drawn herself an interesting contest, and even he couldn’t figure out the outcome in advance. There remained only a crooked smile as he watched the fallen angel locked in mortal combat. His eyes, however, darted from one move to the next. His mind furiously listed his own options, then hers, and finally her opponent’s. Though he could have made quick honest work of such a grotesque display of power from Argus, it seemed the lovely Sarathiel was taken by surprise.<br><br>Almost as if she wasn’t quite up to the task yet…<br><br>He could tell that those watching her battle were starting to have their attention pulled to the more…visceral fights after she escaped her brush with blue-hued incineration. Her later dodging, though tactically sound, were becoming a crowd killer. Their attention spans were too limited to see the set-up that Sarathiel had worked for, but then the dust cloud she’d managed to build with sparky’s help had hidden the remainder of the fight altogether. Victory would be gained, but the showmanship would be utterly lost. In other words, a waste of a good fight.<br><br>He supposed that was why he was around. Someone needed to knock a sense of style and service into such lofty-minded slaves. His shoulders shrugged slightly as Argus’ body fell. In the very end, he knew victory was victory, but he couldn’t help but turn an eye to the Arena Master. How would he react? Would he have to cash in a favor so soon to prevent a promising slave’s early exit despite her win? The crowd’s cheer answered the question for him, and he nodded to himself. Like a bottle to a babe, the fresh flow of blood was the way to soothe an angry crowd. <br><br>He heard another roar rise through the crowd as another combatant had fallen in a crumpled mass. Apparently the Angels were quite formidable, even with their limiters. He couldn’t help but be impressed. Then again, they were always impressive in the beginning, weren’t they? So full of God’s love, despite their current location and status. So convinced that they were being tested, and would soon return to his Grace. He scoffed as he looked again over the clearing dust of Sarathiel’s battle. He’d have to tear that faith down a thread at a time. It was a task whose difficulty was only matched by the quality of slave properly stripped and made in <strong>his</strong> own image.<br><br>As the Arena Master worked the crowd and those in the luxury boxes, he made his move toward the cells. Those that managed to live long enough to know who he was simply gave him a curt nod as he passed. A few slaves, for reasons they couldn’t explain, stood straight as he passed. Praetor hardly gave them a moment’s notice, used to their reactions more as a matter of course than any real allegiance. Soon, he stood in front of Sarathiel’s cage, a stark contrast to the grime of his surroundings and a shining beacon of order and control. He was just in time to hear her venomous words to Ashakiel and see the battle’s effect on her heart. Tears in Hell? Wouldn’t be the first time. <br><br>He elected to simply watch for a moment to read the moment between slaves. One never knew where inspiration could be gleamed, did they? <br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>lore</strong> on <strong>30-07-2011, 08:01:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The sounds of Zehair descending into the cell pens prompt Sarathiel to turn toward her old friend, as she did not desire his potentially final impression of her to be marked by ruddy swollen tear-slicked features and pathetic grief stricken gazes. There was little to be said in their parting, and so she kept her silence as well. Not an hour ago she'd nearly begged him to end her, temporarily forgetting the brutal consequences of failure within the Arena's grizzly walls. Her tangle with Argus had been a rude awakening to what precious few options were offered slaves of her present predicament. <br><br><em>Slave</em>. There was a surreal concept. Even after a life spent in perpetually obedient servitude, she never imagined being saddled with that unfortunate mantle. Even now, in the putrid pits of the pens, she grappled with the grim reality of her newly acquired status and the depressing futures awaiting her in either victory or defeat. The battle had been difficult enough in and of itself, but the trials of the day were far from over. Her thumb trailed absently over the bundle at her hip as she wallowed on her melancholy, oblivious at first to the new presence at her pen door. <br><br>After finally glimpsing shadows and feet looming before her, she pivoted, turning her back to the nameless onlooker and coming to sit facing Zehair's cell. Her small chin tucked behind her arms folded neatly across her knees. A few of her curls had fallen loose during her match and now hung down between her narrow shoulders conspicuously lacking in wings. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>30-07-2011, 21:05:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Praetor chose not to acknowledge the small lump of cloth to her side. Slaves to the Arena, especially new ones, all needed to come to certain truths on their own. His training would only open the path. It would be her continued survival that would signify her walking it. A few steps towards the cell fully revealed him to her to be rather a rather handsome, well dressed man. He’d begun to speak to her, ignoring introduction and other such matters concerning manners. Her conduct in the Arena needed to be addressed while those tears of hers were fresh. Her pain and torment would become another piece of the lesson.<br><br>“You hesitated, slave. You hesitated, and almost got yourself killed before you were any use to me. I find that quite frustrating, but not nearly as much as the smokescreen you helped put up later. It may have been a cheeky enough move to win you victory, but it did no favors with the crowd. Your kills must be as beautiful as yourself, or they must at least be heavily contrasted against said beauty by being completely cruel and bloody. The other slave seemed to have that particular market cornered however…heart-ripping. Always a classic.”<br><br>He had begun to pace slowly while he spoke, almost as if he were address a formation instead of one puffy-eyed slave. Finally, as if pulling back, he stood in front of her and spoke. His manner and stance left no doubt that his fully focus was on her, and his eyes had softened as if his heart went out to her “You survived because your opponent had lost their will to live. You must understand that, because the next time you’re out there, you may not be so lucky. You must <strong>want</strong> to live, with every fiber of your being, or you will lose, and whatever reason you’ve shed those tears would have gone as well. Only the living get to cry, my pretty flightless bird. Only the living can feel pity, or remorse. Remember that well.”<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>31-07-2011, 05:08:56</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ashakiel at Aldora's mansion in Hell.<br><br>Ashakiel never had a chance to respond to Sarathiel.&nbsp; Whatever quip she was going to make died on her lips as she was taken from her cage.&nbsp; She was thrown into a carriage with Herja and she had ridden in silence.&nbsp; She pondered her predicament.&nbsp; <em>from one cage to another.&nbsp; What difference would it make.</em>&nbsp; Her thoughts broiled and she sat stiffly.&nbsp; Even when the scenery changed, she didn't let the beauty affect her.&nbsp; Flung from the carriage, the ground biting into her knees.&nbsp; She rose, hatred in her eyes as she took in the woman who they would call Master....for now.<br><br>To Ashakiel, she seemed soft in her feathery cloak.&nbsp; Beautiful and cold and definitely demonic as a serpents tongue flicked between pretty lips.&nbsp; Ashakiel fought not to grimace.&nbsp; From the way the woman spoke, she knew she was not going to have an easy time of it.&nbsp; If she could have flown away, she would have done so, but the collar around her neck kept her wings from fully manifesting.&nbsp; She snorted in response.&nbsp; <br><br>The moment they were dismissed so easily, she lost it.&nbsp; But hands were upon her and binding her securely.&nbsp; "Don't turn your back on me!&nbsp; I am Ashakiel!&nbsp; Damn it, let go!," she yelled, struggling wildly.&nbsp; She was a noble of Hell.&nbsp; To be treated like chattel was really pissing her off.&nbsp; Nothing she said or did made them let up but she did not calm until she was thrown into her cell.<br><br>She kicked the wall and a portion crumbled.&nbsp; She bounced back, hopping because it hurt.&nbsp; Mostly it was her pride that was hurt.&nbsp; The last days or so of her life had become one big humiliation.&nbsp; She sat on what passed for a bed and screamed her frustration.&nbsp; Finally spent, she moved to the the bars and looked out to see Herja.&nbsp; "I don't suppose you have a plan?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: [EX] Hades' Arena - Colosseum of Pain</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>AngelicBlade</strong> on <strong>31-07-2011, 06:46:13</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Zehair in His Cage, and holding Cell</strong><br><br>Zehair snapped out of his past when he was thrown into his cell, he quickly noticed that Sarathiel was crying. He decided not to say anything because he noticed the little efforts she made too hide that small fact. Instead Zehair sat, his legs crossed, and his eyes at Sarathiel and he cage. He wished that he could shatter it and send the poor girl home, she didn't deserve such a fate in Zehair's eyes. He sighed trying too think of a way too comfort Sara. Zehair tried in vain so he looked around himself and noticed a few guards heading towards him.<br><br>Zehair stood and took off his jacket. He placed it on the bars of Sarathiel's cage, he also took the everlasting angelic rose and tied it up in a small holy chain. The flower was a pure white color a had a faint glow about it. The stem was a swirl of gold and black, the blackness seemed too be from Zehair taint but if that was true or not could not be seen. The chain was silver in looks and each link was a small cross. As the guards got closer Zehair placed the rose neckless on his jacket and smiled at Sarathiel. It pained him to see her, his oldest friend in such a shape. As the guards opened his cage he looked back at Sarathiel and whispered. "I'm sorry, I have failed you as a friend and for that I can not forgive myself. Be strong the masters will not be kind for that I am sure of. And please, do not loss the neckless, that rose was mine so keep it, and remember me Sara."<br><br>One of the guards didn't seem to like what he had said or simply didn't like Zehair and punched him in the gut before slapping shackles on his ankles and wrists and began to drag him. The guards drug him for a bit before coming to an even small cell where he would await for his master to arrive and claim their property. Zehair stood calmly starring at the entrance of the room awaiting his master.
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>