Season 2020 Progression The End Of The Clicker Crisis

Discussion in 'Progression Events' started by MonMarty, May 30, 2020.

  1. MonMarty

    MonMarty Thotdodger Staff Member Server Owner

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    The Crookback criminals and undesirables had chosen life over chaos and death, paving the way for the other Regalians by placing the beacons to guide the guards. Braving into the Chaos realm and fighting mirror versions of themselves, they dutifully did as was required of them, even without any incentive than to live just that little bit longer in this chaotic and conflict ridden world. Upon their return to Crookback from their adventure in the chaos realm, all they could do was wait until the other groups around the isle did their part in ridding the island of the Clickers, and making the situation safe once more.

    Elsewhere, carts and droves of people were corralled into Typhonusburgh, the gate was shut, and the people braved the night to come. With vast parts of the city evacuated into noble estates in the countryside, the defenceless and the old and too young to fight were guarded by those who did not go into the fray and frontlines themselves. The night was long and arduous, and all they could do was wait for the signals to come, to pray the signals would come, for if they did not, then it would be utter disaster. Before long however, the signal bells were rung, the attack begun, and vast scores of undead creatures assaulted the walls.

    In the heart of the city, the City Guard led the frontline, pushing into the Rift with the beacons placed by the Crookbackers guiding them, constantly under attack from monster and Clicker alike. The desperation in the Clickers to guard their home turf was great, but the valor and heroism of the City Guard won the day, even at the cost of one of their own having to stay behind to properly deploy the explosives that would blast open the festering sore that had infected the city. Before long, the explosion could be heard miles away from the city, and a hailstone of shrapnel and stones erupted from the Cathedral square. The breach had been opened, and the endgame had begun.

    Elsewhere on the Isle, the Dragon cultists and other sympathizers aided in the defense of the Forge, an ancient Dragon site that had promised some sort of solution to the Clickers, to aid in the destruction of the infection. Here once again, the defenders saw Clickers and monsters in drove spilling forth to stop them as the evil that had gripped the city tried to do everything in its power to stop their impending end. The guardians held the line and Protocol Disanguity could continue to completion.

    Finally, in the heart, the Mages and other supporting people sallied forth into the explosion hole that had been made by the Guards just moments before, braving the rubble and entering the Rift Heart, where all the Void and now also Exist powers were circulating freely. The Mages came with the intent to cleanse and drain, and so they did, using the Heart as a conduit for their powers, channeling all the energy that had been stored there into the sky to render it harmless.

    It was there that all other groups witnessed the massive magical maelstrom of fire, ice, shadows, light, stone, wind and other elemental and arcane powers, all combine into one massive tornado-like magical event. As the Magic drained from the Heart, another light erupted from the Red Spire in Crookback, a red light, which the Crookbackers knew was the Red Spire absorbing all the Void Essence to prevent it from corrupting the people of the city, and rendering it further harmless.

    In Typhonusburgh, the eruption of the Maelstrom was the beginning of the end, and not a moment too soon, as the inner courtyards had been breached, and the Clickers advanced on the final barriers of the main estate keeping the people safe. Before long however, the saving bells of the city started ringing, and the fighting came to a sudden halt as the powers of the Clickers was rapidly fading away. Formations of Leystone cores flew overhead, descending on the corruption that had spread across the city, purifying it before dutifully droning off to some other location to make repairs.

    The Guards and Mages watched as the rift in the city slowly reverted back to normal, flesh back to stone, black muck back to dirt, and even grass and flowers started growing in the sore that had caused so much grief and danger over the past months. As the last remnants collapsed, the Dragon site revealed the re-construction of the Conduit, restoring functions to the Nexus and beginning the cleansing protocols of the Leylines. As day broke, the five groups that had fought separately, yet united, experienced their victory, and the first waning hours of the City without a risk of the Clickers anywhere in sight.

    Across the Archipelago too, local forces made their final push to rid Regalia of the local Clicker outbreaks. In Tirgunn, the Darkwald hunters descended from the trees with crossbows, taking out the monsters that had infested the land. In the Carrais du Lion, Eclairs Knights pushed the final clickers off the cliffs, to be broken on the jagged cliffs below. In the Shoenn river, the Narlas Fleet battled with a dark water creature that had blocked transit in the area. Up in the north, the Throatwald Mountains heard the songs of battle once more as the Skaggers cleared the ruined Crypts of infested undead, and in Anglia, the Thousand Blade Monastery priests descended from the grain fields, using Unionist Rituals to dispel and cleanse the restless spirits that had infested the lands. In Vultaro, the final battle between the Iron Duke and the dead legion that had infested Pellesto had taken place, clearing the south, while in the east the Szabadok horseman rode down the last stragglers in the Rumvalian plains.

    Regalia had been the frontline of another crisis to befall the world, and it had risen to the occasion again, and defeated it. Perhaps not just the jewel of the world where anything was possible, the city and its people (even the involuntary inhabitants and non-citizens) could pride themselves today as being the vanguard of the world, holding off potential disasters and ruinous powers for the sake of the living. While gods and divine beings had stood to the sidelines to watch all that unfolded, the day had been saved by normal people, everyone making their contributions no matter how large or small. From the nobles shuffling around supplies and commanding their people to fight, to the smallest and oldest contributing what they could to the barricades and raising the morale of the people.

    The Regalians had stood united, perhaps not by intent or by will, but none could deny the effectiveness of all of them working towards one common goal: Life over death. As the new day dawned, the Clicker Crisis was finally over, and all of the Void infested creatures had been slain. Regalia was slowly edging back to normality, even with the scar in the heart of the city. Before long, the Imperial Administration announced it would burden the rebuilding of the Imperial Isle, and before long, builders and architects flooded to the city to begin rebuilding, as the people too picked up the pieces and started rebuilding their lives to normality.

    This concludes the end of the Clicker Story Arch
     
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  2. LumosJared

    LumosJared Around

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    [​IMG]
    The Clicker slowly retreated from the burning Castle, a captive held in its horrible jaw. They had reached the forest nearby, but where the Clicker was going the Prince of Greater Calemberg knew not. He knew nothing but a blurred image of the forest path around them, and the gentle red glow behind them. It was transporting him out of the Typhonunburgh, as his home burnt and was filled with lava and destruction. Elros Typhonus, a slightly singed Typhonus Banner in one hand, suddenly reached down to his side to produce the Blacksteel dagger strapped there, and sent it crashing into the clicker that held him in its maw. But then, just as his dagger met the terrible flesh, a flying Construct shot both the Typhonus and the Clicker. A brilliant flash of light, and then… nothing.


    He awoke a few hours later, the next morning. All was a blur, except the sight of the singed banner clutched desperately in his hand, the silver eagle smeared with blood, some of it his own. He turned, laying on his back as a gentle stream of light peeked through the treeline. ​
     
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  3. Mollymock

    Mollymock Regalian Citizen

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    Shadowman took a seat in his office, breathing a sigh of relief after his triumphant victory against the dopplegangers. They plucked the strangely coloured hat of Dayman from their desk, wiping the dust from the rim before reaching within their Void Vault for a brief victory drink. Yet, something terrible was discovered within the Space Inbetwixt. His archnemesis, the world's worst thief, the elusive Dayman had stolen three individual socks from their collection. He gave an empty stare to his trophy of the Chaos Realm. He may have won. But at what cost?
     
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  4. Birdsfoot_Violet

    Birdsfoot_Violet tacit and refined evil Staff Member Lore3

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    The morning sun washes over the docks of the Regalian Capital, some weeks after the Crisis had settled, boats and bustling commerce returning in force to the Empire. An older woman sits herself on an unloaded crate, both of her weathered hands gripping a cane for support. She holds a burlap sack of meager belongings, sun-worn brimmed red hat resting atop her thin layer of pale grey hair. A deckhand calls out from the ship, announcing the loading of passengers. The last call before the long trip to Kintyr. She stands up, and with the help of a younger sailor ascends the gangplank up onto the ship. Before making her way below deck, she stops, staring out over the city-line and smiling: thinking of quickly found friends, of expected final moments, and of the triumph of life, at the end of it. Miss Elenore's smile remained bright, aged creases in her skin not marring her apparent joy. Not even the wide breadth of the Ocean would keep her from her family, now, after having her hesitance washed away by the kind words of others.


    ((@Scribbe @CrimsletMonarch ))
     
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  5. UrsaMajor

    UrsaMajor The sandwich guy.

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    Taking advantage of the flood of architects to Regalia, the Watson brothers went hard at work in improving the security of their museum and cafe. A banner can be seen from the window of the cafe, reading 'REGALIA LIVES ON!'. A tired Allen Watson scribbled away at his journal as he tended the counter, he took a breath, for now he could relax. Even for just a moment.
    [​IMG]
     
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  6. FeralGayWalnut

    FeralGayWalnut Lesbian Worst Enemy

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    Silence. And then the sound of the trumpet from the highest tower of Typhonburg. She felt like a madwoman, using what little energy she had left to play a victory tune. A tune that many of the veteran soldiers below her would know and one that was often heard being hummed by the eldest sister and cousin of ones who had seen war already. It was a tune that made her happy and yet there was almost a bittersweet undertone as the instrument called out over the grounds of the once beautiful castle that she called home. And just as soon as it began, the song was finished and so too was the Huntress of Typhonburg. She had shot and fled, shot, and fled. Now it was time for her to rest. Her body ached as she tucked herself away into her bedroom after bidding her beau adieu. The sleep that came next was dreamless, for now, she would have peace. For now, the whole world was at peace. They had won, they had survived to see the new dawn upon the horizon. A bittersweet tune for what one could consider a bittersweet end to a war that many thought would never end.
     
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  7. BeetrootSalad

    BeetrootSalad the gremlin Supremium

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    upload_2020-5-30_21-0-38.png

    "It's over."
     
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  8. AtticCat

    AtticCat haeksen van regalia

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    As the conflict drew to its conclusion, one particular Qadir beacon-setter would be lounged across the boards of one of the many mangy ships of Crookback. Though she had initially been with friends following the escape from the Chaos Realm, Azra had since left them to ponder the apocalyptic sky on her own, sigg set loosely between her lips with a small wisp of smoke drifting into the starless sky.

    No, why everyone else was busy fighting the latter battles that followed the raid into that other realm by herself and her fellow sewer dwellers, Azra was coming to terms with whether or not she could truly be happy if Regalia were to lose against the Clickers. If Regalia were to lose after all, Aloria as a whole would be in no condition to take up the fight at the city's coattails. Regardless, all the thoughts and feelings of what she had planned ahead- the future she wished for herself to be granted was certainly too large for her to accept missing out on. Rather, the idea itself filled her with a wrath against the very Gods themselves, no matter how little she believes in any which one.

    Perhaps that's why it was a good thing when she awoke on the waterlogged planks to a brightly shining sun, rather than an endless darkness or, fair worse, never awakening at all. Somehow, in someway, she had managed to give into her exhaustion and sleep through the end of a war between worlds.

    Though, the thing that first came to her mind was how lucky she was that her lit sigg had miraculously not caught her head on fire when she dozed off with it.
     
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  9. Lizmun

    Lizmun yeah Staff Member Lore2

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    An empty, but familiar, oblivion awaited that Unnamed Thing. It had been defeated at a moment most vital to its ultimate goal. The first steps to unity - true unity, of flesh, soul, and planes - had slipped from its grasp. A frustration, yes, but... This was not the end. Its purpose, it's duty to Maraaq', to it's followers, to the Flesh... Has not yet been fulfilled. It could not rest until its ultimate function was realized. It has been defeated before, this was no different. Yes, It could fail as many times as it needed. Its toil is timeless, it can take millennia to succeed, if it needed. Then did that deranged nothingness rouse, the beat of a heart, the pulse of life. The Flesh could be destroyed, ripped up, torn asunder. Burned, battered, and slain... But it will always regrow. The Flesh is forever, it is unending. Undying.

    Deep in the bowels of the rubble-city... A Blossom of Horror bloomed, cultivating traitorous tumors into a usable form. One for that Thing to inhabit, and continue with its insidious purpose.
     
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    #9 Lizmun, May 31, 2020
    Last edited: May 31, 2020
  10. MrNoot1

    MrNoot1 Let there be Noot

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    The tired, yet seemingly unharmed Velheimer stood at the Typhonburg. Sweat dropped from his head as he held his spear. The1 spear had dried Clicker blood and Undead dust as Bjorgulf Haagenvig smiled at the sight of the sun. He had begun to speak to himself. "We did it.. somehow.. we did it. I pray that my family is alright... I don't want to bury another Haagenvig." He had begun to slowly head to Greygate with a tired limp, as he fought tooth and nail for the Empire.

    The Reverend stayed in his basement, praying silently every second as he'd hear the Clickers and Undead move within the city. He held his Puretek at the ready beside him as he prayed. However, as the sun had risen, the demons disappear and fell. He moved outside to only smile, and thank the Spirit for another day.

    The Curate was too late with the news of the evacuation, as he had been staying home and away from others due to the Crisis. However, he always retained his Curate duties. When the time came, he took his fiance and his in the basement as he silently sang her a small song that he repeated over and over again until they both fell asleep in each other's arms. They awoke to the sounds of birds chirping with cheers of happiness, as they survived another horror. He smiled as he held his fiance in his arms, ready to keep on living.
     
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  11. Carcalla

    Carcalla Resident Troll

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    A certain Arak Forgemaster was sitting in his forge for the first time in his life, looking to the stump that now made up the lower half of his leg and then to the rusted and destroyed armor to his right, though his decorated helmet still gleamed as it usually does. Orken Ritualism sure comes in handy, he thought to himself, pounding away at the flexible steel that would make his new leg. But he also looked to t he staff head of the man that had helped him out and saved his life, that Allar would not go unpaid. He looked at the legs of the armor in his small, hot room and smiled, he’d have one hell of a time cutting off the lower right leg of all of them but the extra steel would be worth it. Finally, he turned back to his creation, testing it with his own Orken might, it held, firm and steady as the soldiers that fought alongside him had, before finally strapping it on.
     
  12. NightLight12

    NightLight12 TheRiceFieldman

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    The hunter sat in the center of the mercenary keep with a small kindle campfire infront of him and two other mercenaries around it, The fire was hot enough to get water warm and boiling in the matter of minutes. Bandages on his side behind the shirt he was wearing which covered as well many scars he had. Grabbing a small mug filled with hot water before lifting up towards his lips and takes a sip of it, letting out a soft sigh soon after as he looked over at the nights sky "Hmmm..." He grunts "We have witness many great and weighty events." He sips "And yet some reason people still cant shake the feeling of relief..some believe this is just the beginning. What's your take on it?" He looks over at the two other mercenaries infront of him, one's that he considers to be brothers.

    @fuithlug @HuskyLeader
     
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  13. bwmwags3

    bwmwags3 Refugee

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    The ship rolled in as the Url stepped out To once more touch the stone of the street instead of the earthen ground of his homeland. Soon he would realize all he had missed during his time away but he would celebrate with the city all the same. For he to had felt another weight lifted, his family was free...free from the Oath they had sworn so long ago. Now he had more family to call his own, he would have a child of his own soon enough but he could not shake the feeling his peace was momentary, it was regalia never would it be empty of conflicts or of adventures. Never would he not find one who needed kind words and the aid of the strong.
     
  14. ThePear

    ThePear Pear

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    Jack fought well, but he never got to see the final fall of the clickers (No He is not dead) His inquiries would force him in bed for many weeks to come
     
  15. HuskyLeader

    HuskyLeader D-Dwagon Warden..?

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    Heimelijk just sat near, his tired frame loosely holding a bottle of rum. He turned his blue gaze to the hunter, his unnatural purple ring around his iris ever-present, taking in a deep breath before letting out an exhausted sigh. The Warden took a swig from the bottle before speaking: "Yeah, we have but people will always think the worst and expect it. This could be the beginning, it could be the end. I'm just a damn Mercenary, I don't know what's going to come next. All I do know is that we have to be ready for it and likely ready for another fight." He'd take another sip from the bottle before putting it down on the dirt and cobble floors looking up to the stary night, letting out a sigh after the fact.

    @NightLight12
     
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  16. bahmboozled

    bahmboozled bahmboozling

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    A frenetic tumult.
    Those words were a perfect match for that faithful day — it was ineffable even, and ever so perilous. He stood completely isolated; an icky feeling of 'despair' slicked around the Url. Malevolent talons clawed out to him, before careening the beastman wildly down in its forceful grasps. He, who was in the face of 'death', could not do much then and there; even the strength he ever so boasted did nothing, as the Clicker's horrible maws pressured its weight down on him. And as the Clicker went in for a swipe at Einherjar to disfigure him, a valiant sword jutted out — a saving grace, as it came down slashing at its arm. A horrendous shriek let loose, as it retreated back immediately, only eyeing the duo from its missed chance.

    And although the claws had dragged across the entirety of his face, it never went deep in. The ferrous scent of blood only trickled down their face.
    And although the scars of these claw marks will disappear to nothingness in eventuality, he would never forget who saved him from getting utterly mauled:

    Paedon Syllbess.
    Lost in his reverie, these were the few thoughts Einherjar had as he dwelled in the comforts of the hollowed caves, going back to his repose.
    @MolagBallin
     
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  17. Jalapeno690

    Jalapeno690 Doge of Helvetica

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    Click click click map making time
     
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