Pious

Alicia was in a bad mood, she ignored both the Countess and Romanov entirely. "My men have done thier job, most of the islanders are rebelling and there are riots everywhere, happy? Good. Because I'm sending them home now. They've been stuck on this island for well over two months now and actually, they are of better use elsewhere. This whole operation is taking forever, the gang is getting very bored and I am getting very angry. I just need to kill someone"

Nothing to worry about at this point. As you may know, the Priest tours the globe, spreading the Word of God, working miracles. Its what he does. He's come to Liberty on a hunch, he feels the place is somewhat, troubled.

A mist of darkness clouds the front door of the villa, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, replaced by a swirling leather coat. With the powerful stride belonging to a reknowned crimelord, Lord Barzini entered the Villa, her long dark hair flowing along behind her.

I want to write in a piece that places the Priest on the islands, as he enters to help the native peoples. Meanwhile, Pistol of course, attends the meeting. But you're the game master of this plot Romanov, can Pious and other heroes enter the island?

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As I've had some people tell me time and again, Paragon City itself would have no use for such a cage as we're all supposed to be shiny happy heroes who would never find anything so barbaric, entertaining.

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But of course, as you know, most heroes aren't. Besides, the reasons for battling is between the opponents. Fights can range from media-focused sport events (like Boxing or Martial Arts Sparring Tournaments), to two super-powered friends training, learning from each other's strengths and weaknesses, or it could go to the opposite extreme and be an epic confrontation between enemies. Another reason for fighting could just as well be as simple as challenging the nightclub's current champion of the cage. Of course we must all agree that arena battles have no lasting effects, just like the X-Men's danger room. Lastly, if opponents agree to use inspirations, I think it would be interesting to explain those in-character, but again, its up to the individuals using the Cage. Two very good points so far, any more thoughts on this idea?

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The question is, how do we balance IC ability with the rules of PvP?

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I suppose you don't really. All the more reason to try harder and win the in-game fight. Fun both way.

As most of us know, there is a player versus player arena built into the nightclub called Pocket D. Some of our characters refer to it as the Cage. Now, I've had an idea. Its a simple idea that has probably been experimented with before, but I propose a new method to execute this. The cage (as portrayed in the City of Heroes comicbook) is known to be a popular stage for non-lethal battle, usually for entertainment value.

My idea, is to start a forum roleplayed fight club with only one main rule: the victor and sequence of action is pre-determined by an actual in-game in-character pvp battle between the opponents, refereed by the spectators. A good precedent, which my idea is based on, is the Pistol vs Mechano fight, which occurred in-game and was retold with some much enjoyed dramatic exaggerations as forum RP. Your thoughts, please?

Dragon Sabre is a dual-blade katana forged by a Japanese swordsmith centuries ago. Rumour has it that it contains two magical crystals which renders the wielder of the sword invulnerable to physical pain. It is said that the blade can fly of its own accord and spout fire from its tip. It can manipulate the stream of time, causing the owner to move and heal wounds at incredible speeds. The sword itself is said to be unbreakable and was presented to the a Chinese War Lord and his wife, who eventually divorced, and consequetly seperated the sabre into two, the Golden Dragonfly katana and the Soaring Dragon. Only an heir to the San family bloodline can wield the sword and currently, the two swords lie in the hands of David Tai San, son of Sabrina Chung San, once known as Dragonfly.

Sword of Leviticus is a longsword forged by the prophet Moses. It is the embodiment of God's Word, able to discern between a corrupted soul and an innocent one. When it strikes an evil soul, the pains and horrors of that person's past victims are directed upon him. Men do not die from the blows of this sword, for it was made to vanquish the demons within. The sword of Leviticus is currently in the possession of Reverend Pious Hunter, also known as the Priest.

Flintlock pistol of the demon Nasfahtu is almost 400 years old. Somehow, the gun does not actually lock and load and instead of gunpowder, the ammunition is propelled by the demon's dark miasma. The ammunitions are also pellets of dark energy, capable of killing instantly. The mystical gun releases both single shots and multi-directional fire but its dark power is easily resisted by strong will and the bullets do little physical damage. It is currently in the possession of Lord Alicia Barzini, aka Pistol, who insidentally, is possessed by Nasfahtu.

((These three magical weapons and their history are a complete fabrication of my own imagination, as are the characters they belong to.))

Astoria, a once beautiful town now clouded with a mysterious fog, ridden with ghosts and undead corpses. A tall man materialises through the smoky mist, cloaked in a dark robe. The white collar around his neck marks him as a holy man, a preacher. He walks with a sad and solemn air, barely shifting weight as he drags one foot after the other. As he shuffles by, he absent-mindedly kicks aside the weeks old trash littering the sidewalks; he nearly stumbles trying to avoid the sewerage leaking out from the gutters. It was hard to breath, with the air stinking of rotten flesh, threatening to seize the lungs and heave last night’s beef and vegetables. In the far distance, the priest could hear dogs barking, probably stirred by the monsters of the night. As he reached the town’s Cathedral, he witnessed the clock-tower strike four o’ clock.

Once inside, the priest knelt, shut his eyes and began to whisper in prayer. “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom, come!” he pressed, as though begging for the heavens to descend. Unseen by the priest, tall shadows start to move beyond the church windows. “Your will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us day by day, our daily bread. And forgive us our sins, for we also forgive those who are indebted to us.”

A slight noise from outside startled the priest mid-prayer and his eyes shot open in alert. “Lord, do not lead us into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” As he sounded these last words, he somehow knew what awaited him beyond the safety of hallowed ground. Slowly, he rose to his feet and turned to face the door.

The barking dogs had silenced and nothing more could be heard but the gentle whistling of the wind. As the priest stood, surrounded by his enemies, a slight sense of loneliness washed over him. He considered the Militia or his twelve disciples across the globe, Edward, Rachel, Luther, Gunter, Arnold, Simon and his brother James, Mary and Christina, Nathaniel and even the young prince called Peter. But they needn’t be troubled he thought; this was his burden to carry, his daily hour of crisis.

The cathedral doors creaked open and out came the priest. With a great noise the large doors slammed shut behind him. With great effort, he lifted up his head and gazed upon his tormentor. It had the form of a man, except he was enveloped in impenetrable darkness. Around him were dozens of other faceless apparitions.

“You look tired” came a voice, uttered from deep beneath the darkness. “What demon are you?” commanded the priest, in a flat yet authoritative tone. “Like my father, you are a fallen angel, but you serve the evil one and that makes you a demon. You have come to torment me. Well, you shall fail just like your friends.”

A silence pierced the night momentarily, and then all was shattered as the army of demons began to laugh. “Truly, you are the son of Noktil” said the demon, “for you show stupidity of his highest quality.” Suddenly, the surrounding figures start to run in all directions, disappearing into shadow one after the other. “Reverend Pious Michael Hunter, we are not here to torment you, but to destroy you.”

As quickly as they had gone, the demons returned, and they were everywhere. Crouched down on lampposts, hanging off the dead trees, clasped onto the Cathedral walls, every inch was shadowed. “We are Legion” the army echoed, “for we are plenty”

A jolt of pain at the knees woke the priest from his trance; he looked down and saw a demon biting at his leg. He raised an arm and brought it down with great speed and might but the demon had gone, replaced by another, biting at his neck, and another at the elbow, suddenly a blow struck his jaw, connecting with such force that several teeth broke loose, blood spurts into the misty air, his head was already rolling towards the ground but his skin still stayed behind, fluttering like an open parachute. Just as he was about to hit the ground, a blow to the ribs sent him skyward. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The demons were launching consecutive blows, flying at him from all directions. He fell and hit the ground like a rag doll, on the second bounce, a demon collided with his spine, sending him straight into the stone walls of the cathedral. He could feel his head swelling up from internal bleeding. He would need to strike back or risk loosing consciousness, but under the endless assault, no opportunity presented itself.

Something struck him in the stomach and he keeled over in pain, another force struck his broken jaw, then against behind his skull. His head was swimming now and his vision blurry.

“Pathetic!” cried the tallest demon, standing over the bloody mass of torn flesh and broken bones that was the priest. “You so-called prophets are all the same, so keen to throw your lives away. God gives you the gift of words, a little magic to heal wounds, calm the weather and suddenly you think you can change the world. Well here’s a reality check for ya, this world’s already ours. It’s too late.”

“Legion” the priest managed, choking on his own blood. “Are you done slapping me around? It’s just that, some of us have to work for a living. I have a sermon in the morn- ahhhhhhhhh!”

A streak of pain unlike any other pressed the priest back into the ground, face dug deep into the earth. “Why? Why do you persist? There is no longer room in this world for religion, don’t you see? You preach until your mouth is dry and the world ignores you. They don’t believe in the prophets! Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, they’re nothing but names in a world of science and technology. Even your magic are no more than fairy tales and superstitions. Reverend, you are on the loosing side of an eternal battle. Man understands evil, they believe in it because it is all that they know, it is thier natural state of mind. Reverend, the sooner you realize it, the better; God has forgotten about Man. This is the new dawn, where evil reign supreme and Lucifer wins all souls.”

Finally, the priest returns to his feet, just barely able to hold himself together. “Whoever you once were, back in heaven, all of you, you made a big mistake siding with the Destroyer. Your argument is flawed. Hear this; a sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed, some fell by the wayside; and it was trampled down, and the birds of the air devoured it. Some fell on rocks; and as soon as it sprang up, it withered away because it lacked moisture. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns sprang up with it and chocked it. But others fell on good ground, sprang up, and yielded a crop a hundredfold.”

The priest was now renewed in spirit, his time was near. “Now the parable is this” he continued. “The seed is the word of God. Those by the wayside are the ones who hear; but are so consumed with hatred that the devil is allowed to come in and take away the word out of their hearts, lest they should believe and be saved. But the ones on the rock are those who when they hear, receive the word with joy; and these have no root, who believe for a while and in time of temptation fall away. Now the ones that fell among thorns are those who, when they have heard, go out and are chocked with cares, riches, and pleasures of life. Instead of believing with faith, they demand to see evidence, proof of God and Satan and prophets and magic so they bring no fruit to maturity. But the ones that fell on good ground are those who, having heard the word with a noble and good heart, keep it, and bear fruit with patience. Tell me, which one are you?”

One after the other, the demons fell to their knees. Sunlight washed over them and the darkness departed from them leaving behind sad and tearful men, women and children, all having been possessed. Now, only the priest could see the evil spirit as it stood cowering in the shadows. Empowered with the Holy Spirit, the priest produced a gleaming sword and directed its point towards the dark spirit, whispering in an unknown language, “I am Reverend; I am Saintly; I am Pious Michael Hunter, avatar of the Word of God and I shall go out into the world and I shall prophesy.”

(585)

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Is there a way I can totally delete the Warshade Eleven page?

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Only admin can do that. I'll locate the page and remove it for you.

Glad you like it Transient. And thanks for the compliments, all the art is really in the pictures chosen.

Thats good. Glad you like it.

A new and exciting hero chances upon the spotlight for this month, ladies and gentlemen I give you Omega Chief. Congratulations mate and welcome to the roleplay community! *cue applause*

However, also spotlighted is the fearsome monstrosity, Lord Erebus! Congratulations on this most highest of honours mister Dante. Until next time, keep reading up on the latest heroes and villains on the scene!

I've got it done now Mime. Quilty and Colonel Blitz, I've had to relocate your avatars so here are the new and working links. Please let me know if you want anything else done to them, hope you like it.

1. Mirror Mime

2. Lord Qel Thyr

3. Colonel Blitz

The link isn't working from my end Mime.

Page is nicely laid out Sy. She sounds like a fun character to play. Do we know when i12 arrives yet?

Dominating the welcome page for the duration of March is the corporate hero Liberty Protector and the well respected Mr. Sebastian! Congratulations gentlemen.

Here you go guys, let us know if you want more done to 'em.

1. Ice 9

2. Holly Steel

3. Cyberwaste

I'm considering having Featured Profiles on a monthly basis as opposed to weekly, mainly because I'm too busy. Same as it went for this month, the next two profiles selected will be the welcome page for March, unless anyone wishes to help out with admin work.

Hey Quilty, Marq and Cyberwaste. I've just moved homes and still waiting for internet connection and a new laptop machine, I should be back and able to draw you some avatars early March.

On cue, Pious descends onto the catheral roof, an intense glare fixed on the stranger.

Cable... as in dial-up?

A gentle whisper of the cold winds suggests a sudden presence high above the Cathedral spire. Stood firmly before the giant cross was the Priest, dressed in his holy garments. He had heard the intruder's introduction and in his curiousity, decided to eavesdrop further, less he is discovered.

Hey Lords! Sorry to have been away so long without notice. I'm actually messaging from an internet cafe because I'm in the middle of a change of home. Damsel and I got our own place.

My current problem is a dilemma on broadband providers, most require an active BT phoneline which I don't have or want. Any advice? A friend of mine recommended Virgin. I'll give them a call for now and see what can be done and how soon. Talk later! Pious.

PS. Hatesman and Ammon, you know Pistol best so for now you can RP her for me, please. Thanks.

Nigeria, West Africa. Late Sunday evening.

Reverend Pious Micheal Hunter sat, eating breakfast with his friend and accomplice in missionary work, Rachel Grey. "What you are eating is called Eba in the Yoruba language" said Rachel. "Its a paste like mashed potatoes but made from cassava roots"

"Its lovely, thank you Rachel" said Pious. Looking up from his food, he expected to see Rachel at the other end of the small wooden table, but instead he was atop the roof of Moth Cathedral, witnessing a brawl. He jumped to his feet and was suddenly back in Africa.

"I have to go. There is unrest back at the Cathedral" he excused, before disappearing round the back of the mud hut. "Why is it, everywhere we go to preach, you end up being summoned back to America?" Rachel asked, following him out.