Post by The Forgotten God on Sept 17, 2015 14:55:49 GMT -5
As the heroes approach the great tree-squid-god thing, and spend more time in the dimension, slowly, but surely their copies begin merging together into themselves. Maybe they're merging into another dimension's version of their own identity, it's impossible to tell, but as they do, the world takes a slowly more familiar shape, three dimensions and a normal passage of time. Vhagus looks back and forth as everything begins falling into place. Elmangoreth is hundreds of feet tall, maybe thousands, a great mountain of a demon tree, tentacles and branches and steel beams and pure insanity his every appearance. Everyone, unbeknownst to the others, sees him just a bit differently depending on their fears.
Vhagus frowns and looks about, then cuts himself. He focuses his blood into shapes that react to the strange dimensionalism of the place, and the red separates into yellow and blue and green and orange and violet and brown and black and white, and it expands as the god begins to move, expand into shapes the laymen about him will understand, expands into the greatest weapons of war on the plane they come from. Lightning flickers from the yellow dragon as frost does the blue, while the black and white seem to focus on some sorts of poisons. The green has no breath but is massive and powerful, two hundred feet long and sixty tall, and the violet has no eyes or ears but spits strange rocks that detonate on contact. The brown one is stone skinned and stunted but its claws are disportionately long like some gothic gargoyle's, and it is not for a few more minutes that anyone sees the alst of them, crystal-skinned and clear, no organs visible, sinuous and faster than any. "Everyone always wants to ride a dragon to war," he mumbled. "Fucking ride one."
ooc:
Basically choose a dragon and your abilities for the fight to come are going to alter.
Vhagus frowns and looks about, then cuts himself. He focuses his blood into shapes that react to the strange dimensionalism of the place, and the red separates into yellow and blue and green and orange and violet and brown and black and white, and it expands as the god begins to move, expand into shapes the laymen about him will understand, expands into the greatest weapons of war on the plane they come from. Lightning flickers from the yellow dragon as frost does the blue, while the black and white seem to focus on some sorts of poisons. The green has no breath but is massive and powerful, two hundred feet long and sixty tall, and the violet has no eyes or ears but spits strange rocks that detonate on contact. The brown one is stone skinned and stunted but its claws are disportionately long like some gothic gargoyle's, and it is not for a few more minutes that anyone sees the alst of them, crystal-skinned and clear, no organs visible, sinuous and faster than any. "Everyone always wants to ride a dragon to war," he mumbled. "Fucking ride one."
ooc:
Basically choose a dragon and your abilities for the fight to come are going to alter.