JUNGLES - NEW PLYMPTO
Equipment:
The Vow of Saud |
The Helm of the One-Eyed Prophet |
Gehinnom Divinitatus
"Burn… burn… more… mooore!"
Da'Razel's golden digits carefully held back the blazing white manifestation building at his fingertips. His claws clung to raw voltage, like a god poised to unleash a zig-zagged thunderstrike.
The gigantic bronze shining bow, an incarnation of Gehinnoms fall and fury, rested heavily in his other palm.
The weapon was engulfed in licks of bright radiance, coiling around it like serpents of pyre.
The arrow he had conjured into existence was less fire than living plasma, a flickering javelin of incandescent heat, folded over itself again and again, sharpening, attuning, like the tempering of ancient blades.
It would have been meditation, had it not required such raw fury to bend reality so utterly.
He had asked to come here.
He was the Saint of Fire.
And few battlefields were more perfectly suited to maximize the efficiency of his lifetime mastery of pyrokinesis.
He was not here for subtlety. Nor stealth. Nor strategy.
He was here to unshackle annihilation.
To open infernal gateways, to reap chaos.
He could finally unleash those twisted burning tornadoes writhing across the planes of his mind.
Anger and hatred were the air he breathed, and to flame, they were breath itself. Kindling. Fuel. Essence.
"Raaarrrr!" he roared from within his golden-clad visage. The heat so fierce the air around him sizzled in distortion, igniting the flora in close radius into spontaneous combustion.
"Mooooore!"
A burst of brilliant white light seared outward as the arrow of fire was loosed. With every meter it traveled, crackling arcs of molten plasma scorched the terrain, like strokes of lightning flung from a wrathful storm cloud.
Its heat warped stone.
Earth vaporized instantly.
It left behind nothing but charcoal trails and drifting ash, like withered petals dancing in the spring.
Anything it touched died screaming.
Century-old trees split open, spines of bark and root incinerated from trunk to the tips of their foliage.
Like a burrowing vile worm carving beneath flesh, the projectile sank a curved path into the jungle, leaving behind a molten trench of bubbling slag and carbon.
Then, impact.
The heart of a hidden Rebel outpost, deeply entrenched behind enemy lines, too fortified by nature's canopy to have been taken by traditional means.
When the arrow's tip found its target, the explosion was cataclysmic.
An eruption consumed the compound.
Temperatures soared past melting thresholds.
It was a hellfire, the shadows of the dead were seared into the surviving slabs of stone.
The pyramid-like structure didn't collapse it ceased. The stone fortress nothing more than crumbling glass and powdered sparkles.
A shockwave of superheated air pressure spread the carnage outward. Green hills worth centuries of growth were stripped to flattened smoking piles, in an instant.
Da'Razel, too, was wreathed in smoke. His protective robes scorched. Even his near-inflammable Devaronian skin had burst beneath the strain, fresh burn scars blooming like war paint across his crimson forearm.
He exhaled.
The mask shrieked with the hiss of steam and pressure, roared like an engine.
His gaze lingered on the ruin before him, vision awash in hues of bronze and ruby, ravaging the planet.
He inhaled again, slow, swelling, deliberate, as his chest inflated and his golden claws swept across the belly of his bow.
From where his fingers lingered, a pale white orb began to form, gathering size and length as he drew back his arm.
The shaft grew, dense and bright, stretching with his will.
Another.
"Buuuuurnnn."
Ashin Cardé Varanin
Thomas Barran
UNDEAD Aron Gowrie
