WorldDevourer

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Charlie's satchel, which sat inside the lip of the sarcophagus, jangled, the sound of metal on metal. The spidery legs which wrapped the sarcophagus moved forward, following it's master, filling the air with the a strange sound. It was the sound of quite an impressive number of the metal plates which had been affixed to the various creature's ears. He had removed them, to give to Roldan, the dragon police officer. The bodies they were off, well, Charlie eyed the box, they wouldn't be missed.

But the sound wasn't heard much. It was covered up by unintelligable noises. He was surrounded by a zombie horde. Charlie had abandoned his glamour during the fight with the chimera, and was enjoying striding around, general, once again, of a small sect of the army inside the box, in his skeletal form. Shadow clung to the bones, like water on skin after a rainstorm, beneath slightly singed clothes, splattered with acid, blood, and all sorts of hellish concoctions that the creatures could spew.

Some of his more recently deceased and less terrifying undead were around the island, shepherding students and locals to the safety of the ballroom, but he still had the bulk of his horde. A couple of dread knights, brothers of those who had been maimed in the battle with the chimera. A bone crab, over five foot tall, made of an innumerable number of bones jostled for place amongst a couple of hellish flesh trolls. It's back was made of flat bones, like shoulderblades, it's claws of sharpened spines. Charlie was very proud of it. Undead british soldiers, slaughtered in machine gun fire at the somme, took up rusty bayoneted rifles. Several roman soldiers, armed with spears and shields bumped shoulders with skeletal vikings who swung axes much larger than themselves. The undead from the bonfire which had surprisingly survived thus far was still carrying the emmense chains. A group of undead templars, wielding emmense longswords took their place. But amongst it all was the ranks were the unidentifiable undead, bodies which wielded kitchen knives taped to sticks or meat cleavers. Still, ready to serve their masters, even in indeath. They weren't full zombies, you see, merely extensions of Charlie's will.

But he had performed some slightly immoral tricks over the years, meaning he still had enough power to control his undead. The trinkets which wrapped his bones were providing a purpouse. Tommorow was going to be a bit of a hangover though. He had already died earier, but that had been to restore his energy. If he didn't die again tommorow, that would be fantastic.

Several of his zombies had been burned beyond repair during fights. But, he surposed, they would still make good flesh trolls. He had taken the bodies of his undead that were beyond repair, and fed them into a grinder, then used rebar to form a sort of quick bone. Rough, ugly work, but it got the job done. That was the advantage of skeletons. They get blasted apart and you can put them back together. After the buisness with the chimera, several of his romans were currently sitting in a pile inside his kitchen, in the box. Waste not want not. That was the necromancer's creed.

Charlie heard a strange sound as the horde entered the square...

@Keen
 
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Keen

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All Béatrice wanted was some sleeping. Earlier she was lying peacefully in her bed; her body draped over her wife as they did their usual fighting for who got the most space of the bed. Béatrice almost always won from size alone, but occasionally Ade would "accidentally" push Béatrice off, sending her tumbling onto the floor. Not that she minded. The carpet was soft, and the bed was close to the ground, which lessened the impact, making it easy for her to sleep on.

Their usual half-asleep fighting ended when screams of panic were heard, and the sounds of Henghai came banging on their front door were added. Béatrice could ignore the weird orgies happening in the forest, the wolves howling during their hunts, and the cheers of people celebrating the dead. She could not ignore her friend yelling for assistance and the nearby panic that only got worse as the event progressed.

After assisting by dousing a flaming skull with her water, Béatrice knew she would not return to slumber. With her pent-up aggression and the realization she had not gone hunting for a while, she ventured out into the island to let out her instincts. She saw others were doing it, so why not join? There were creatures of all types coming in, attacking random citizens and even herself a few times. Like she was, her children would be led to the ballroom for safety while she went out hunting. This was also an excellent opportunity to get some test subjects. Oh, how she missed her test subjects. It had been a while since she did any experiments, but this was her calling. Perhaps she could be an assistance to those wondering what was going on with these portals. Not that she was fooling herself. She knew she was doing this for fun and to cure her curiosity for the time being.

That was why she was in the city, not hesitating to let out the feral inside of her that she kept hidden inside of her house and in the woods. Once again, others were doing it, so why not join? If the police had something to say to her about attacking creatures trying to kill her and others, she would not hesitate to stop to avoid trouble. For now, she liked the feeling of blood covering her hands, mouth, and talons. The clawing of creatures with physiologies she did not yet understand. The screeching of them as they died. There was screeching from her as well, the mixture of an owl and deer sound that oricenta could make. That was when she realized how carried away she was getting. Now that she thought about it, this was not good for collecting tests for later on. She decided that once she got her annoyance let out, then she would be better at controlling herself so she could get alive, or half-alive, subjects.

Her rampage was stopped momentarily by the hoard of zombies, however. A few were helping out nearby citizens get to safety, while others followed the man leading them. Charlie. Of course. Who else? Many, now that she thought about it, but Charlie was the one who came up to mind first. His scent was nearby as well, and it was not hard to tell who he was, even without his glamour on. The glamour would sometimes fail, allowing her to see right through it for a few seconds before it returned.

Stepping away from the battle, she approached the acquaintance, not caring to address the mess she made of herself and her prey. "Ah, Charlie, are you here to help?" The hunting really did help. She was feeling more like her optimistic, energetic self now. The anger from being woken up from a peaceful sleep still lingered inside of her, but now she felt like she had much more control over herself now.
 

WorldDevourer

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A strange creature appeared in the sky. The undead with weapons, held their weapons upwards, prepared to be divebombed. They weren't particularly good with things that could fly. One of thr hardest fights that night had been with some sort of flying creature.
Luckily Colin, the emmense zombie who carried chains, had managed to daze it with the end of a chain, and then it dive bombed into a pile of undead wielding spears.

As the fluffy bloody angel descended, Charlie had strange emotions. Relief, that it wasn't another flying monster. Here was an acquaintance, who he liked, and could help kn any coming fights. But she might hinder his collection of bodies. Maybe they could share. But it would be great to fight alongside her, to see what the royal orcentia could do. He had seen a little in the fight with the skull, and it was impressive, but he was sure that not all the creatures could be stopped by water. That must be where the claws come in, Charlie mused.

Charlie would be lying if he said he wasn't having fun.

"Of course, you too? Saving people, hunting things." Said Charlie, striding infront of the horde of undead, the mass of bones and flesh parting for him. He was surprised she had recognised him without his glamour. Then he remembered how rubbish his glamour was, at how it broke occasionally, or flickered. But he was stuck with it. He wiped down his ruined waistcoat. He really should change, but that
would probably lead to two ruined waistcoats.

"Maybe now isn't the time for chit chat" Charlie said, as a loud noise from the darkness of the square pierced the night, and something moved into the square, scattering a pile of chairs stacked outside a café. "I think we have company."
 

Polaris

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The thing was very, very difficult to see in the dark. Really, the only warning they'd get was the one scream, and then... nothing.

It was probably a safe bet the creature was somewhere near the cafe, but despite the abrupt noise that had drawn Charlie's attention, there was nothing but silence.
 

Keen

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Béatrice was not surprised to see the undead point their weapons towards her, ready to attack. With all the creatures popping from nowhere here, she should have expected that a person like her from a relatively unknown species would blend in as well. At least she acted more sentient than these creatures, but considering her earlier actions, she still had to be wary for those who thought she was a danger and a part of this mess.

Luckily for Charlie, the undead lowered their weapons from her. She almost wanted to laugh at how foolish they were. Not like they could do much against her. She would just defeat them all with a flick of her hand, creating a wave of water to knock them off and ruin their decomposed bodies. Or perhaps she could trap them in an orb of water and crush their bodies from the pressure. That, or just simply freeze them.

Listening to her acquaintance, Béatrice took this as a time to stretch her body, opening and closing her wings, bending her spine, and stretching her limbs. Thankfully, it was a short break. She would rather have a proper conversation elsewhere than in the middle of an area where unknown monsters were swarming, ready to kill anyone nearby. Though now she began to regret not appreciating her short break, as a horrible scream pierced her ears, nearly forcing her to hold onto one of Charlie's nearby zombies to stay up. That was not necessary, however. After a few stumbles back from the shock, she quickly recovered, her attention focused on the dark area around the café, where the chairs were scattered.

She was silent, which came naturally to her species during times like these. She had to, so she could listen for any sound, detect any scent, or even feel the wind to locate her prey. Her eyes were wide, scanning the dark area for something. It seemed like she would have to be the one to get closer, as she doubted that Charlie had could see in the dark like her. Slowly, she approached the area, trying to keep a safe distance in case something jumped out at her.
 

WorldDevourer

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"Erm, bea" Charlie interjected, looking away from the orcentia and into the darkness of the square as she approached it. Charlie could just about see the clint of light as a metal chair leg, scattered by whatever was in the square, reflected the light of the edge of the full moon, cut by the roof of a building.

"i believe theres something in the darkness. And while it is pitch black, i would prefer not to be eaten by a grue. Or something else for that manner. Do you have any magic or something that might light up the square? The electricity appears to be out. We don't all have magic orcentia eyes. And my horde needs to be able to see to hit something" Charlie swore under his breath, promising to invest in a flashlight. Or night vision goggles, they were a thing now, right? He sighed. Flaming torches weren't reliable when held by dried dead flesh. He surposed he could light one of them on fire and order it into the square. But he was running low on energy as it was.

The undead horde readied their various weapons, a spiky rotting hedgehog of rusting weapons, pointed towards the square, awaiting whatever lurked in the darkness, and Charlie stood on edge, waiting. Behind him clacked the sound of Sherbert, the bone crab, readying to use it's shell to protect it's undead brothers. Charlie was tired, and these undead represented the last of his energy. He was running on adrenaline, or something similar, as he had no glands to produce the chemical. Whatever had produced the strange quirk that had allowed him to come back with more power than usual.
 

Polaris

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Beatrice might have been able to catch a wiff of something - some animal - but by the time they did it was already too late.

The creature was more or less a panther, only twice the size and several times the speed. It did not lunge forward so much as it shot forward like a bullet from a gun, letting out it's insanely loud shriek as it went straight for the zombies.

What made it truly alarming was that the creature glowed. It was as black as the night itself, invisible in the darkness until it moved. As it moved, it began to glow, heating up like an ember. Every movement made the cat brighter, its actions more obvious, and when it reached the front wall of zombies and swung a massive paw, it only got even brighter, the heat coming off it strengthening.
 

Keen

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Béatrice scoffed quietly. She already knew something was in the darkness. Anyone with functioning ears and eyes could know that, and she was already moving towards the area anyway. Charlie speaking to her was ruining her attention, however. Trying to hear what the lich was saying, as well as detect any signs of movement or sound from the creature, only made her job harder. "I do not have any light magic. All I have is water magic. Now, let me—"

Another shriek, along with a gust of wind as the creature shot past her and at the undead army. Béatrice was not as quick as most other oricenta, but she still moved fast, tracking the animal's movements so she could dodge and fly up safely. It was easier to see what was happening from up there. It was like a gigantic panther, one that was glowing and radiating heat with each movement. She flew back further until she felt she was a safe distance away, then prepared an orb of water to launch at the creature. It was about the size of the panther, large to completely soak it, hopefully. If the panther was radiating heat, then water must have been able to cool it down. Perhaps the more heat the creature built up, the quicker it became, so if it became cold, it would become slower. That was the best guess Béatrice had from only observation and the brief experience of feeling how warm the panther was. She was going to need to keep her distance for this one. Now she just had to hope the zombies could slow down the panther to make it easier for her to throw more distanced attacks.
 

WorldDevourer

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The first wave of zombies were thrown to the side of the square by the creatures emmense paw, the smash of windows as bodies hit them. But the paw was stopped, and the smell of cooking flesh filled the square as the boiling paw hit the first flesh troll, an emmense stocky creature with pseudo-bones made of rebar and a body made of miscellanious viscera. The troll took the paw, refusing to move, but was clearly struggling. It attempted to grip onto the panther's paw to hold it in position.

"What the hell bea?" Charlie called as the orcentia rose up into the air, thinking she had abandoned him, and then he saw the ball of water. That was smart thinking. Cool it down, then it's just a panther again. "FANTASTIC. GREAT IDEA" he called to the floating fluffy angel.

The zombies who had been thrown were clearly damaged, but they still got up. Many had broken bones, and several were missing limbs, but they eagerly walked back towards the fray, picking up weapons discarded by their brothers, and walking forward, ready to attack, eternally serving their master. Each had large burn marks from the creature's paw across it's torso. But they were worse for wear, the walking wounded. One was dragging itself along with one hand, and waving a meat cleaver in the other.

"Go sherbert!" Charlie pointed ay the creature, staying in the centre of the horde, with as many undead shields as possible. The bone crab turned to look at him, a pair of femur bones moving as if they were eyes. before scuttling to the forefront of the battle, claws raised. Another undead, slightly shorter than the trolls but wrapped in emmense chains walked forwards, with an ear piercing rattle of metal on metal and attempted to throw the chain over the panther, to pin it. If they could get it further away, the horde might have a chance with spears, if they could goat it into charging them. But for now, if it worked, Charlie hoped the emmense chain would be enough to hold it.​
 

Polaris

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The problem with zombies was that they tended to be made from rotting flesh, and rotting flesh tended to burn. The smell of burning flesh would intensify as the cat grappled with the flesh troll. Every movement, every twist of its body only served to increase the heat it was giving off, and the troll would begin to rapidly cook as it did.

The great orb of water landed squarely, dousing both the troll and the cat, but it had little effect beyond slowing the heat down. The cat was knocked free of the flesh trolls grip by the water and went sprawling, but much like a cat it simply shook the water off, its flesh going red almost immediately as the heat came again.

Far above, if Beatrice was paying attention, she might have noticed something darker on the ground, like a shadow moving slowly towards the zombie hoard and Charlie himself.
 
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