HomeA Guide to the Harbor
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A Guide to the Harbor
by Haseo Mon Nov 10, 2008 12:27 pm
The swirling, chaotic void of broken floating rocks, interconnected by flashes of lightning and pure, unchecked magic are what make up the outer appearance of the Hell Dimension, Cold Harbor. A desolate void of unlife, and half-life, corrupted by the Devil-God Thing, Haseo Ithen. Deeper we travel into this void of negative energy, and creatures we begin to see; Horrible parodies and mockeries of life they once had. Limbs grotesquely mutated, bodies hunched or twisted, with only echoing screams coming from the rocks they inhabit, holes cut into what could be called the 'ground', where their dwellings are.
The deeper we travel to see this horrible creation, the more vile the creatures, along with souls yet to be fully tainted. All of the souls here are evil, make no doubt of that. But even evil feels fear when faced with a greater evil. The run from their tormentors, terrified shrieks caught in the null-void, before they finally attempt to leap to their deaths, off of the hunks of rock, stone, and twisted crystals; Only to find themselves falling to another rock, with horrors worse than the last.
Again, we go deeper, into what could be considered the heart of Cold Harbor...
But it is not fragmented rock we find. It is not a swirling, chaotic mass of energy twisting and churning. It is a castle, nay, a sprawling city-state surrounded by high walls. Here, some of Haseo's most terrible servants reside, the Shadow Vampires. Creatures who were once normal vampires that had used their dark magicks to attempt to destroy a rival Clan, but had found themselves swallowed by the Shadow, and left stranded in the dark recesses of Cold Harbor. Haseo found these creatures and gave them shape again. They are telepathic and telekenetic, and terrible to behold, with their pale skin, black eyes, and horns. Their king, Harrow, sits on a throne adorned with bat wings, next to a much, much larger horned throne with void snakes hovering around it and snake like arm rests; The throne of Haseo. And, in our travels to the deepist and darkest part of the Cold Harbor... We find Haseo himself on his throne.
His smile is slow on his pale lips, exposing rows of serrated, shark like teeth. His skin is that of a dying man; Pasty with a light hint of greenish yellow. Six horns adorn his head, two that curl over the sides of his head, two that curl over the top of his head, and two between those that sick out and upwards, ready to impale any who defy his will in his most evil of states. Eight black wings are spread from his back, furled ever so lightly to offer the image of two shields on either side of him.
Long, ivory talons click against the arms of his throne, snake eyes focused with a deadly calm, a terrible darkness. Long blood red hair flows down behind his back, between his wings. Nine white tails spill from the throne, curling and swaying softly, as though they themselves were snakes, each tipped in red as though he'd dipped them in pools of blood. The Master of masters leans forward in his seat, and says in only a whisper, but a whisper that echoes and reverberates and chills any that hears it down to their core, "Welcome... to my realm." A lesser man would have crumbled to just those four words and small pause, despairing at the loss of his life.
Haseo slowly stands from his throne raising his large hands as he does, palms facing upwards. They now rest even with his shoulders, and a flame leaps upward in each of his palms; One a twisted and sickly green, while the other is a coiling purple. Again the Freyalin Emperor speaks, this time amusement lining his tone, "I am the Master here... And none of you will EVER mistake this. I rule as I see fit... and none can hope to challenge my will here. This realm is shaped to my liking... and shall remain so. I am power incarnate. I am the Destroyer of Dreams and Weaver of Nightmares. What I say is more than Law. It is the command of a God, and will be followed to the utmost of my desires. If I decide the skies will quake for my glory, they shall, and all will kneel. All shall love me and despair. And I shall not be denied..." The Freyalin engulfs the scene with the flames, laughing loudly as he does, while all of the Shadow Vampires' voices rise to what would be the sky; But not in screams of anguish, oh no. In songs of glory to their mighty Emperor, one phrase ringing out above all.
"Hail to the Glorius Death."
The deeper we travel to see this horrible creation, the more vile the creatures, along with souls yet to be fully tainted. All of the souls here are evil, make no doubt of that. But even evil feels fear when faced with a greater evil. The run from their tormentors, terrified shrieks caught in the null-void, before they finally attempt to leap to their deaths, off of the hunks of rock, stone, and twisted crystals; Only to find themselves falling to another rock, with horrors worse than the last.
Again, we go deeper, into what could be considered the heart of Cold Harbor...
But it is not fragmented rock we find. It is not a swirling, chaotic mass of energy twisting and churning. It is a castle, nay, a sprawling city-state surrounded by high walls. Here, some of Haseo's most terrible servants reside, the Shadow Vampires. Creatures who were once normal vampires that had used their dark magicks to attempt to destroy a rival Clan, but had found themselves swallowed by the Shadow, and left stranded in the dark recesses of Cold Harbor. Haseo found these creatures and gave them shape again. They are telepathic and telekenetic, and terrible to behold, with their pale skin, black eyes, and horns. Their king, Harrow, sits on a throne adorned with bat wings, next to a much, much larger horned throne with void snakes hovering around it and snake like arm rests; The throne of Haseo. And, in our travels to the deepist and darkest part of the Cold Harbor... We find Haseo himself on his throne.
His smile is slow on his pale lips, exposing rows of serrated, shark like teeth. His skin is that of a dying man; Pasty with a light hint of greenish yellow. Six horns adorn his head, two that curl over the sides of his head, two that curl over the top of his head, and two between those that sick out and upwards, ready to impale any who defy his will in his most evil of states. Eight black wings are spread from his back, furled ever so lightly to offer the image of two shields on either side of him.
Long, ivory talons click against the arms of his throne, snake eyes focused with a deadly calm, a terrible darkness. Long blood red hair flows down behind his back, between his wings. Nine white tails spill from the throne, curling and swaying softly, as though they themselves were snakes, each tipped in red as though he'd dipped them in pools of blood. The Master of masters leans forward in his seat, and says in only a whisper, but a whisper that echoes and reverberates and chills any that hears it down to their core, "Welcome... to my realm." A lesser man would have crumbled to just those four words and small pause, despairing at the loss of his life.
Haseo slowly stands from his throne raising his large hands as he does, palms facing upwards. They now rest even with his shoulders, and a flame leaps upward in each of his palms; One a twisted and sickly green, while the other is a coiling purple. Again the Freyalin Emperor speaks, this time amusement lining his tone, "I am the Master here... And none of you will EVER mistake this. I rule as I see fit... and none can hope to challenge my will here. This realm is shaped to my liking... and shall remain so. I am power incarnate. I am the Destroyer of Dreams and Weaver of Nightmares. What I say is more than Law. It is the command of a God, and will be followed to the utmost of my desires. If I decide the skies will quake for my glory, they shall, and all will kneel. All shall love me and despair. And I shall not be denied..." The Freyalin engulfs the scene with the flames, laughing loudly as he does, while all of the Shadow Vampires' voices rise to what would be the sky; But not in screams of anguish, oh no. In songs of glory to their mighty Emperor, one phrase ringing out above all.
"Hail to the Glorius Death."
Haseo- Emperor
-
Number of posts : 119
Age : 33
Where you Reside : The Tower of the Dark Folly.
Registration date : 2008-09-09
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