The Plains Run Red [OPEN]

[The Madness]

He could not tire. His body was not that of someone who had the ability TO tire out. The body of someone whose nerve systems were completely broken, and of someone who just had no need for them. He had been walking for hours across the plains. He needed not to hurry; blood could easily satisfy his spear as soon as he got to the Lycian border. I hunger...Must feed...STOP NO

"Silence." The shade did not speak on the outside, but on the inside... It silenced the rage and musings of a hundred, no, maybe a thousand wisps of personality. Each of them kept silent as the corpse of a man kept walking, holding his spear in a ready position with a rotten head impaled on the middle of the spear. The shade saw not much reason to try and find any people. They would simply destroy him just as they had destroyed the shade previous. They destroyed the demon king easily. While he was mad, he was not mad enough to ruin his own plans for now. He'd keep out of sight the best he could.

Or he would kill those that saw him or bothered with him. He held a tighter hold of his spear. His armor, purple and faded, clanked along with each step he took. It was the only thing about him that was truly even making any noise, since he did not need to breathe at all or such. Very convenient for him.

[Aeos]

The day was surprisingly warm considering the time of year. Early spring, Aeos gathered from what the wind had told him. The dragon in human form found himself in the company of a small band of nomads. These nomads did not belong with a specific tribe but were rather a group of nomads who had been cast out or displaced from their own tribe.

After his brief tour of Lycia the dragon had ended up in Sacae on a whim. He was told of Bulgar and wished to see the city built by nomads. But alas he had gotten lost and these outcasts had found him wandering the plains in confusion. They were hostile at first, confused by the dragon's manner of speech. But once they determined him to be no threat, they invited him to join their camp.

The dragon gave a brief summary of his origins. They barraged the dragon with several questions about Nabata and he replied as much as he knew. A stronger breeze blew by, stronger then the last one. Aeos started to read it in his usual manner and felt something ghastly. Something dark. The dragon perked his head. He did not like what he could sense on the wind. He felt a chill crawl up his spine and a slight pain in his chest. This was usually something he felt when he sensed the presence of an oncoming storm, but this was different. This "presence" he felt was dark, heavy, and had the faint tinge of death. It almost felt like the presence he felt in Nabata, when Ostia was destroyed, but much more concentrated.

The dragon clutched his stone through his shirt mentally trying to communicate with the whimsical spirit within. What.. was that? He asked. Trouble. The spirit replied. He failed to notice his healthy tanned face had gone white until one of the nomads pointed it out on him.

"Hey Aeos are you alright?"

By now most of the group was staring at him.

"..I not know.. I think.. there.. be something coming."

[Garrit]

Grass surrounding grass. In this country you could look at grass for an hour before finding a rock, or a tree, or even a shadow. Garrit had never been one for scenery, but he might have read a few travel books had he known there existed places with absolutely no scenery. He trudged along through the dull plains, holding his dao in his left hand. He moved quietly, but it was impossible to hide on these plains, nary a shadow. However there was nothing to hide from. Garrit could see or hear everything in the surrounding area. Nothing.

For a time at least it was nothing, then Garrit should have hoped he'd had a place to hide. A dark figure, a shadow in these plains drowned in sunlight walked the plains with him. Garrit had heard him before he saw him, the sound was foul. Not the literal sound, which was the clanging of armor and nothing more. The sound that Garrit felt however, as some sort of aura emitting with the noise was of death. Each step the call of a vulture, the bumps in the armor touching each other creating an orchestra, sinister in nature.

When Garrit did see him, the sight was worse. His spear held the head of a dead man. He smelled like smoke, and rotted flesh, but Garrit doubted anyone else would smell the same. His eyes burned while he looked at the man, he became almost disoriented. Garrit doubted the way the man looked was real, all of his feelings were some kind of personal weakness. He gripped his spear tighter, and gritted his teeth. He wouldn't run.

Lifting his spear, he called over the plain in a flat voice, "Hail." He'd never liked speaking to strangers simply to make them feel less uncomfortable, but he didn't want this... thing to simply charge him. Better to push the man away with conversation than attempt to with his dao.

[The Madness]

Devour was such a strong word, thought the shade. Or so thought the main personality, in the end. The others kept rambling on about whatever they wished, be it devouring souls of the innocent, getting out, where their body was, and why he was going to somewhere where they did not want to go. Each time the main personality snapped back, causing a jerking stop in the motion of the shade. It had to stop all motion in the body of the dead man to speak at all to the shades in it. Once it returned it was notified by the prescense of the... living.

Devour him now! Claim his soul into the folds of madness!

Souls... Feed on him! FEED!

Think rationally of this. Simply tell him to move away, do not try and cause conflict.

GET OUT OF MY BODY GET OUT GO DON'T COME BACK PLEASEEEEEEEEE

^{CRUSH PUNY MAN}

Silence.

This quick, a split second long in fact, talk between the personalities could not be heard by anyone else. And to be honest, everyone else was honest. To mortal ears the bickering and talking of them all would sound like a thousand rats screaming while being tortured to death, or like the sound of metal being scratched with steel nails. Soon enough the shade continued walking, stopping a few feet in front of the man as it held the spear ready, the head hanging from it, looking straight at the man. Soon a chilling, monotone voice would reach his ears.

"Move." Simple words for simple men, easy orders for easy men. This was all that graced his ears until a sudden series of screeches and groans followed. FEED ON HIM NOW! DEVOUR HIM! LEAVE MORTAL HE WILL SLAY YOU RUN RUN RUN

Oh, hello. How are you doing?

[Garrit]

The sounds changed, everything changed. This thing suddenly sounded horrid, only standing still. Though he didn't move, within one one second, it was as if Garrit saw a million different men, all with different dispositions and postures. He then spoke, and it was as if Garrit's ears were being drowned in tar. For the first time since Caledonia, Garrit wanted to cry. He wanted to fall to his knees and tear his eyes away from the evil man that stood in front of him, but he would not. This demon, fiend, or monster would not have the satisfaction. Garrit would stay on his feet, and he would not run.

He scratched his face, feigning disinterest. He brushed his fingers against his pack where he kept his vulnerary tonics. It was still full, which meant it could save him from minor damage a few times. Better to not get in trouble, but having the thing made the man feel marginally safer. Garrit went through his own mental argument. His legs told him to run away. His gut told him to run away. His brain chose flight over flight. His heart however, refused to move or even waver in the wind. Garrit lightly placed the butt of his spear into the ground, grinding it for a few seconds. He leant part of his weight onto it, continuing to show a lack of concern. He would not go any further, he simply wanted to appear indifferent. He opened his mouth, and for a moment couldn't force out any words. Eventually they came to him, "I don't believe I'm standing in your way."

[Aeos]

Aeos shook his head momentarily. Trying to pinpoint exactly where the disturbance was coming from. He was shocked at how close it was. Gods.. what IS THIS? That question kept repeating itself in the back of his mind as the group tried to question him some more. The dragon among men was silent, then he spoke.

"Something.. someone.. is over there." The dragon pointed over to small ridge of a nearby hill.

One of the group who was more in tune with the spirits but not to a degree as Aeos convinced them to send a scout up ahead. He too seemed to be a bit shaken. But before a person was picked to scout the dragon found himself running towards the hill. Every part of his rational mind was telling him to run the other way, but his legs would not listen. He needed to know who no, WHAT this thing was. As he approached there was a dull pulsating pain in his head and for the moment he could hear a small slew of tiny voices all speaking gibberish. Are these the spirits speaking? Their voices... they... feel like anguish.

The voice of his dragon stone spoke again. STOP. The dragon's feet came to a halt. He was now at the top of the grassy hill looking down. Two figures were in front of him. A man with bright yellow hair and another individual. He could not describe that individual as a person. No the dragon knew that thing, whatever it was stopped being human long ago. The scent of death and evil radiated off of the man's dark armor. Again the wind blew, the spirits of the breeze begging the dragon to flee. But he would not.

The other humans he was traveling with caught up with him. And now they too were looking at the scene before them. Aeos told them not to move. Not to make a noise not even to speak to the one clad in dark armor. He had his arms held up on to his sides in a manner to block the more curious ones from descending.

[The Madness]

"Move. Before I claim your worthless soul into the folds of Madness. You are not what I search. For your own good... Leave." This time there were no interuptions as the corpse of a shade made it clear that he wished for the blonde haired man to disappear. No matter how he did it. Die on the spot, leave, run, maybe just kill himself right then and there. He would move. Or he would make the man move. He held the spear closer to him, the head of the dead man seemingly opening it's mouth. Or not. It might just have been an optical illusion.

He took a step forwards. Then another. Then another. Each step he took seemed like it needed coordination from him, and it did. Mostly because one of the voices would not shut up. It kept rambling on and on about something watching them, and over time the shade had to slow down as it's focus snapped elsewhere, head turning around almost enough to snap the corpse's neck. It's burning red eyes opened up a bit more at the sight of people atop the hills. _{i told you they were there stop them they will kill kill killllll}

The shade proceeded to then narrow it's eyes, it's voice now ringing in ears of everyone present. And it was not the voice that the blonde man had been used to. Rather, it was...

LEAVE NOW HE WILL KILL ALL OF YOU HE WILL CLAIM YOUR SOULS AND YOU WILL JOIN US ALL IN THE PITS OF HELLFIRE IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE PLEASE LEAVE DO NOT LEAVE ME PLEASE TAKE ME WITH YOU PLEASE LEAVEEEEEEEEEE

What came out was that, but to be honest, it sounded more like someone was being tortured rather than someone talking. The voice cut off abruptly.

"Leave. Now. Or I will claim you with him."

[Garrit]

The pain worsened, and Garrit was forced to wrench his eyes away. It felt like a pair of teeth were sinking into him from every angle, reaching bone. It hurt his soul to allow the thing this power over him, but he felt as if he was being torn apart, and couldn't bear to look at the thing in front of him. Then, suddenly a voice broke through the lips of this demon. It was a voice in agony, a voice that felt as if it was on fire. "LEAVE NOW HE WILL KILL ALL OF YOU HE WILL CLAIM YOUR SOULS AND YOU WILL JOIN US ALL IN THE PITS OF HELLFIRE IF YOU DO NOT LEAVE PLEASE LEAVE DO NOT LEAVE ME PLEASE TAKE ME WITH YOU PLEASE LEAVEEEEEEEEEE." That was it, that's what did it. That voice pushed Garrit over the edge.

He crumbled to the ground shielding his head as he dropped. He writhed in the fetal position for a few moments before crying out. He didn't speak any words, he merely shouted, after only moments he had shouted hard enough to hurt his vocal chords. He crawled away from where he'd stood, dragging his dao with him. A sea cascaded down on him, making it seem impossible to move, but fear drove him away. No, not fear, instinct. Somehow, this man was causing him physical pain, not merely psychological, though that was part of it. Garrit fell on his back, and now able to form words yelled out, "MAKE IT STOP!" He had seen there were others nearby, he hoped they'd make it away. He had no love for them, but wouldn't wish the pain he was in on anyone.

[Aeos]

It spoke. The dragon covered his ears with his hands. He did not know what he heard. It sounded like a million voices going off all at once. Except for one particularly loud voice urging them to leave. Good gods the dragon could still hear it ringing in his ears. To those on horseback around him the horses were spooked, they bucked and tried to run. Some had fallen off the horses and others were carried off with their frightened animals. The other humans around him also had their ears covered unsure what the heard was even mortal.

But he felt the spirits of the dark armored man. They were screaming. Always screaming. They will never stop screaming. The armored man had stopped speaking. But Aeos could still hear the screaming at least that's what he thought it was. His head was in such pain.

"That man needs help!" Cried one of those around him. Apparently this was enough reasoning to warrent running blindly into very obvious danger.

"GODS NO. DO NOT DESCEND!" The dragon was pleading with his comrades.

"THAT THING IS NOT MORTAL!" He was screaming. His ears were still ringing. His heart was racing.

But the men did not listen. A good chunk of them descended down the hill like a landslide. Weapons drawn and fear in their hearts. THOSE.BRAVE.IDIOTS. His dragon-stone spoke.

"NO! FLEE! GET AWAY FROM IT!" The normally calm dragon continued to yell. There was a trail of wetness streaking down his face. Tears streaming from his eyes. He knew what was going to happen to those men. Those brave souls he had just befriended. The men on horseback returned with out their horses, their weapons drawn ready to aid their comrades who had charged on ahead. The animals knew better.

[The Madness]

Fear was an interesting concept, in the end. It could drive a man to do the most brave deeds, like charging down to save a comrade. Too bad that most often being brave led to being stupid, and being extremely stupid led to death. For now, he would reap. He would reap their souls, add them to his own, and make them BEND over his might. It did not matter if their souls would not increase the requirements for his goal. He would punish them like the children they were in front of the elder races.

He took upon his stance as they came for him. The spear in his hand seemed to come alive with dark energy as he held it back, standing still like a statue, waiting. But his eyes were not still. They moved. They were aflame with something... Something horrifying. That being the rage of his mind. As the first horseman reached him he quickly rolled to the side, stabbing his spear into the side of the horse as it rode past him, causing it to collapse down, crushing the rider with it. He then turned his eyes to the next one. If it could grin, it would grin right about now as he begun to speak to the horseman.

What seemed like a split second was like an eternity for the two of them as he drowned the poor man's mind with all the voices inside of him. What followed was the bloke writing in agony, the horse having gone wild and riding off with him. He was fairly sure that the man would be broken for a good while. The next man to come on foot earned his spear jamming right between his lungs. The next, another maddening.

They kept coming and coming, and the shade kept fighting until he finally exploded, screams of the damned echoing around him.

"WE WILL NOT FALTER"WE CANNOT BE SLAIN!""You're making an awful ruckus, you two.KILL MEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[Aeos]

"D..amn it.." Aeos covered his ears again. The dragon could barely comprehend any of the voices. All of his new found friends were slowly dying. Dear gods he could hear them screaming, but they were dead. At least the two of them, the first two who got to the man, creature, thing, first they were dead. But he could still hear them screaming. This thing, it did something to their souls, their spirits. And he could feel it. He could feel the corruption. It caused his hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

"No... NO. NO NO NO!" That was the one word he kept repeating in his head. And repeating it out loud. The blonde sir who was the first to engage the demon was on the floor cowering in fear. He did not blame the man. He would be cowering too. And he was a damned dragon.

He found himself running. Running towards calamity. Towards death. The stone was yelling at him to run away. But he didn't listen. He kept rushing forward. His friends dying around him. He hoped and prayed that the monster would be distracted enough so that he could at least pull the one man to safety. He was unsure if this was the same bravery or foolishness those nomads were feeling.

He slid down towards the man and grabbed him by the arm. Then pulled with all of his might. It was a miracle he did not lose his focus and accidentally pulled with his true might. His dragon strength would have probably sent the poor fellow through the sky if that was the case.

"Quickly! Come! Now! UP! MOVE!" One word phrases were all he could formulate at the moment. That thing in the dark armor was riddled with so much chaos that he physically and spiritually felt ill.

[Garrit]

Garrit's mind continued to be flayed. He was being rent away from himself as the man fought against the other men who'd appeared. The pain slowly lessened to the point that Garrit no longer felt compelled to yell. He yelled anyway, he'd never been so afraid. He heard the buzzing of crows and hell beating around him, along with metal being drawn and the sound of hoof beats. They were fighting it, the men who'd appeared were fighting it. It astounded him, the man laying on the ground like an abandoned child. He attempted to move, and couldn't gather the strength. Suddenly however, he was torn from the ground by a pair of powerful hands. He looked into the face of a man who was somehow different, but in almost the opposite way of the demon. It was as if he was a counter to the thing that now killed the group of warriors.

The man who'd lifted him shouted to him. "Quickly! Come! Now! UP! MOVE!" Garrit quickly obliged, running opposite of the thing that now visited death down among so many with that hellish lance that wore a head as a trophy. He did not stop to see what the man did, but instead simply ran. No thanks, nothing. If the man was running headfirst into the jaws of the beast, Garrit would not know. Garrit held his dao tight, not wanting to loose his only method of protection. Never before had it been so heavy, or he so weak. Only once had he been this frightened.

[The Madness]

They kept coming. And he kept reaping. It was a simple circle of life as the corpses piled up slowly. Some had ran off due to the voices, some had just fallen to him, some had stayed up the hill in fear. At some point they stopped coming, and he found himself looking around for the blonde and the strange one. He had senses something about the strange one. Something powerful, something he needed to get his hands on. A stone? Yes, a stone. He felt it's presence calling out to him. Or well, more like it was telling him to stay away.

It'd be enough to convince him to try and chase the spiritual energy.

"You... Are mine." The simple words echoed around them, but it only reached the ears of Aeos as the shade proceeded to start walking after him, it's pace increasing with each step until it was running at a rather impressive speed for a half dead man with some heavy armor on it. It kept running after him, the red eyes burning with the souls of the dead. He needed that stone. He needed it. He felt there was something powerful inside it that he needed.

^{C'moon noow, stop for little ol' me. C'mon, he'll make it worth your while if you stop, I promiseee...}

STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP KILL HIM FREE ME FROM THIS ETERNAL HELL PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEE

We shall devour that stone whole! Souls!

Just drop the stone for Pete's sake.

[Aeos]

Aeos didn't stick around for long, he pulled the man up onto his feet and ran behind him. The run up the hill would be an annoying one, but a needed one. The thing spoke again. But Aeos could hear it. It wanted his stone. His dragon stone. DON'T! YOU! DARE! The stone spoke in the dragon's mind.

There was no way in hell he was going to let the monster in black armor have his dragon stone. He'd have to pry it from his dead corpse. Which given the way the monster was fighting was a very real possibility. No. He cannot let the monster take his dragonstone.

The dragon kept running. Pushing out the horror and voices of the damned from his head. There were still some alive who could witness his transformation if he choose to do so. He kept running. The monster was charging for him. The monster wanted his stone and was going to get it. Gods this thing is fast.

"No. I cannot let thee have my stone!" He yelled. Trying to push the voices of the dead from their constant whaling. The aura of evil coming from the creature. The winds of the plains were starting to blow strong.

He kept trying to run. To push himself to move his legs faster. Fear and adrenaline were coursing through his veins. Gods it the worst case scenario happens he would be forced to transform into his dragon self. Which would be problematic. His dragon body is large. Very very large. His parents estimated about 30m when he last transformed, but that was two hundred years ago. His human form had grown taller since then, his dragon form had to have also grown larger too. He could fly away in his dragon form, which could save his life. But would probably crush those humans who lingered around. He could still hear the faint sounds of those brave fools. Some were still among the living. The thoughts kept racing in his head as he feet kept moving. Just keep running. KEEP RUNNING.

[The Madness]

"If you grant that stone unto me without resistance, you shall live. Just drop it and run away, I shall not follow you." For once the shade was being honest. It wanted the stone enough to actually stop chasing around him if he simply dropped it. Surely was important, but all man feared above all for their life. Without it, they could not do anything else. They needed their life. And he was sure losing his life would be enough. He even had a good distraction set up for the man to stop him from running, to pry that stone off of his cold dead hands.

Just as he was about to rush forwards... He was stopped. Another man, on a horse this time. As if he could save the man for long. He quickly slid down against the ground, the shade staring upwards as the man suddenly stabbed his spear down onto the ground, cancelling out his plan of sliding under the horse and impaling it's chest along with the rider. He would improvise, stopping the slide right in front of the spear as it then grabbed the pole, yanking at it as he pulled the rider down quickly.

He in a way wished to keep struggling with the man, make him suffer. Yet he had no such time as he held his spear and jammed it onto the man's throat. He then calmly stood up, the shade's eyes flickering around, trying to find Aeos. Where had that running man gone?