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That Brave Feeling You're Standing For | Training

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A woman pat her head rubbing the sweat from a nights dream from her head. She was Xiàngrìkuí, the priestess of Ning Village. Her dreams had always been a miracle, a connection with the rukh so primal and wonderful. She was a women gifted with clairvoyency magic, born into her duties and having been priestess her entire life she was used to having many visions. She saw things, from the path of the storms before they would hit her village, to the soldiers marching in the North.

Today the priestess was a valuable commodity within her village, as she was able to tell them when enemies would be nearing. In times of war as useful as this may be it was difficult. She often say soldiers in her dreams rather they be marching, fighting or raping women. She hated them so much, soldiers, warriors and bandits. Yet there was another thing she had seen in her visions lately and it was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

A King. Jahanghir was in her dreams constantly, or in her waking memory. She remembered the way he looked, a king that was dark and beautiful with an Ebony crown and gold embelishing. He was a king that had to have been foreign to here, he had no resembling of Kou culture. He was not pale, nor short or thin. No he was Jahanghir the iron hearted Black Lion, the World’s King.

She had grown to know this man quite well, his heart his spirit and his weaknesses. She had grown so fond of him, and like many of women she had probably fallen for him a bit herself. There was just such a magnetism to the man, the way he spoke and the confidence and rawness of his words. He was kind and free spirited, his nature like the wind or the ocean or space. She had known he had to be special, that fate must have been leading him to her for something special.
She shuddered, the thought of not knowing how things would turn out was too much for the priestess. She took a moment to light a few candles for the night and before soon the Priestess attempted  to go back to sleep. At this point she could only think of her Daughter, Chieme, what would be her future? They had spent so many years at war she had began to teach her daughter of it.

She had to, if she would not teach Chieme how to run, how to scream how to hide she wouldnt be able to do anything for herself. At any time someone could be aiming for the village in malice, it was the only thing she could to give herself some safety. She dreamed and she thought of her child the love of her life, and the village and everything that would be to come.




WC - 483
MAGOI - 150
STAM -410


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Backwards, it was all backwards.

Jahanghir’s story was written unscrupulous, everything he had come to know and value was wrong. There was a wall between his strength, a hole in his heart, and fragility within his ego. Jahanghir! The World’s True King. Where are your powers? They have almost perished, were was your presence? Jahanghir sweated, his eyes shut tightly, he rolled and wrestled across the grass. His hand arm found stability and he jerked himself up, his eyes opened and the sun blasted his pupil.

“Uh..” Jahanghir muttered as the sun greeted him. He got to his feet and dusted himself off.

“Its morning”
Jahanghir said and then he exhaled departing with the struggles of the night. The night had been so haunting to him, a man with so much conviction. His stagnancy was his only pain. It made him anxious. Jahan was cloaked in his gear, a parting gift from his past life  ;a uniform that was a black and purple richly colored silk. Adorned with golden ornaments, and across his chest an epaulette. Jahanghir has returned from his comatose all after the world has had 2 years to prepare for him. He felt the underdog again, nothing had changed from that night. He had not grown into the man he had wanted to since the day he became a King Vessel.

Jahan shook his head and snapped out of the funk he had been trapped in since he rose. The king was not the kind of man to get lost in his thoughts. It was rather odd for him like everything else he had been experiencing since he woke in the Kou mountains.

Jahanghir travelled through the coast of the Kou Empire. He had spent most of his time in the Empire with their people. If it weren’t for the kindness of the people Jahan wouldn’t have made it to where he is now. If anything he would be dead if not less of a king. He owed his Candicy upon Ariella who aided him in the conquest, the woman who had supported him after only just having known him, If he could have convinced her heart what else would Jahanghir be capable of? The world was his to claim.

He had seen miles over miles of the Kou brush, the exotic plants and acres of cherry blossom. He had found the land to be amusing, charming and entertaining. Jahanghir took a delight to the eastern world and its rich culture and people. He had only desired they had more purple garments. Though more so than delightful he  also had to say it was distracting. Kou was an interesting place, a land that has been plagued by conflict yet a land which boldly stands against the test of war. Yet in still within the air Jahan felt something calling him elsewhere, he needed to return to his home. Though before he could do that he had to amass some money.

“Battle” it was the first and only thing that had come to Jahanghir’s mind. He was not a servant, nor an artist or some sort of other labourer. He was a king and a king would gather his resources by his own strengths. Fortunately or not for Jahan there was no shortage on battles in The Kou regions. Everyday there was warfare and bloodshed to some degree. To various degrees even, inflicted upon soldier to civilians. Jahanghir had only began to search the air from  the high ground, he came across the sight of billowing smoke and fire.

The smell of burning and blood caught his nose, Jahanghir winced. He didnt know what to think or make of the sight of war. Jahanghir hadn’t witness war. He was a virgin to the battles countries would have within their walls or else. Though he would remember vividly the sensations he felt within Gremories Dungeon. The false reality he had experienced when he placed his crown upon his head for the first time. He remembered it, a battle where he had lost his lover. It made him scowl at the sight of the smoke billowing from across the pass.

“Its a battle for people that are not my own…”
Jahanghir muttered, he fought over his curiosity and his adrenaline and he continued away from the scene of the battle. He wanted to avoid high profile appearances if he could, he didn't know who could be his enemy. As he was weakened and unable to access his Djinn equip properly the man especially didnt want to be caught up in any battle that might easily fatality himself.

“Though I could probably win..” Jahanghir muttered underneath his beath. “I might need to know how this goes…”

Jahanghir stopped. He had only taken but a few steps before he came to realise the mistake in his judgement.

“I am Jahanghir Nikator, the Candidate who will be king of this world, how could I not witness this battle.” Jahanghir did not need to be affiliated with either side of the war, people were people. In his eyes this world was a world of his people, if they were fighting he had a responsibility to pay attention to it. Jahanghir clutched his crowned and sighed lazily, as if he were about to put up more effort than it was worth.

Taking but a second to adjust himself, he bent down for a sprint and then he took off towards towards the heat of the battle. Regardless of Jahanghir’s efforts he would not make it to the battle with enough time to witness anything.

The stomach of battle had been worse than what Jahanghir had been able to imagine. He arrived on the scene that was painted like a grand massacre. The infrastructure of the wooden and brick laden town that had surrounded Jahanghir was devoured by flame.

“Corpses”,  Jahan muttered. He walked through the streets of the destroyed settlement. Heat from some of the flames remained on either side of the street. Piles of Burned structure, buildings toppled smashed and burned their insides sprawled about the ground. They very buildings had been a part of the massacre. Jahanghir scowled at the smell of filth, he smelled the scent of death in the air and it turned his stomach.

It was so disgusting, a complete disgrace to Jahanghirs Presence. Yet Jahanghir took it all in. He couldn’t reject it, any of the sight the smell or the hellish nature of it. It was a part of the path he had chosen. Battle, murder and death would definitely follow the man if he were to ever unite the world. Yes the ground laying before him that he would travel, painted in the crimson iron ore of life would be his map.

Jahanghir  did not speak again for the rest of his journey through the town, he had no words able to express the grief. He could only offer them silence, he could only offer them this moment of honor for the lives they had lived.


WC -1652/1500 | 483+(1169)
Magoi -130/130
Stam -410/410


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As Jahanghir continued passed the site he made it into the mountains outside of the village. He came to a stop as an arrow flew passed his head sinking into the bark of wood near his head. He raised his chin and spotted a group of warriors emerging from behind trees. Without a doubt they were a member of the war band that had done this. Killed all of those people. Jahanghir's lips stumbled into a frown.

The world had grown violent and grey to Jahangir, yet the men had began their charge against them. Everything moved like slow motion for a second for the world king. He focused his magoi on his arm re-inviting his beloved technique "Black Heaven & Earth". His arm quaked with much fury and malice, Jahanghir "super charged" his attack. Giving it the most energy and effort he could sending his thundering magoi back and forth resonating through out his body. A high pitched vibration began to ring out signalling the technique, and as it came to life Jahanghir did something differently.

With the ease of his mastery he transmitted his already fiery magoi into his BLKCLW. The technique ignited with tremendous power, and then everything went black for the world king. When things would settle, and his consciousness returned the body of many dead soldiers were scattered around him. He frowned again, unable to understand what to make of the carnage, and simply continued forward.



wc - 1893/1500 used all for training.

Trained! Black Heaven & Earth: Gathering of Heavenly Gods.

http://magiworld.forumotion.com/t9906-the-black-heaven-earth?highlight=black+heaven


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Chie watched from the dark shadows that surrounded her from the every edge. The little girl couldnt breathe, her heart raced none the less, she was like a deer caught within headlights unable to continue processing life. Just a few moments ago the entire town had went into mayhem. There was a sudden hollering from the east of the village, and then running. Lots and lots of running, hiding or holing up somewhere hoping that the enemy wouldnt find you. Chie hid now. Her mother had planned everything with her in mind, the only daughter of the Villages Priestess, the woman who sought the rain and blessed the fields.

Her mother had seemed to know everything ahead of time, what storm was coming and where and how many days passed until they would see it. She knew of the march, and the attacks and just a few moments before their village had been struck she grabbed her daughter and embraced her for a while.  The scene kept replaying in Chie’s mind.

“Shh Shh, honey. Darling.”, a woman coaxed to her daughter, she rubbed the falling teardrops from the girls face.

“Lovely. Chiemi, my heart. You are light of my life, without you I have nothing left to see!”

“Mommy” Chie whimpered. They had talked about this, she had known it was too come all along. Her mother had warned her, she hinted everyday in the last number of days at something odd. The woman had been acting so kind, so lenient. Yet so thorough and so powerfully did her mother speak to her in the last few days. It was odd even for the Priestess, she had became too pretentious.

“Mom I dont understand lets go! Lets Run away-”


Chie’s mother grabbed her and wrapped her arms around the young girl. Coddling her long pink hair she rested her head and her daughters and began to weep.

“There is no way, you have to wait Chiemi. Please Chiemi whatever you do stay behind the wall. Dont make a sound, I promise he is coming. He will save you im sure.”

“Who! Who is coming! Mother we have to go!” The woman grabbed Chiemi’s hands, bringing them at eye level with her face she held eye contact with her daughter. In her gaze held all of the womans knowledge and belief.

“An Excellent Black King is coming. I have seen him marching here.”

“Mom!” Chie cried out, the sound of horsemen and screaming was intensifying in their direction.

“I know magic, you can not see the future! You can only see whats ha-”

“But I know my fate, and you must know your fate Chie. A king will emerge. There is no way to know what he will do, but I know Chiemi, I have listened to fate Chie, and I believe in him. I believe in the sight of this warrior. He is gentle and strong. I believe it, we may not know what fate has for us. Yet fate has always shown me what I need-”

“BRACK” The sound of the door being kicked in alarmed Chie’s mother, who pushed her into a hidden passage behind the wall and covered it again with its wall tapestry. Scrambling as quickly as her life could permit, she pushed a wooden shelf in front of the tapestry trying to hide it. To buy every precious second of time.

Chiemi hid behind the wooden walls of her home, within the deadly silence her heart began pounding. Her heart drummed thunderously even against her chest, in desperation, Chieme covered her lips. Though she could not muffle the sound of her heart beat within her head.

“DUN! THUN! CLANG!” Chieme cringed from within the darkness.

“Mom, mom mom” she panicked as tears ran down her face. “Ma-ma” Chieme whimpered.

And everything went silent.

"Tap-tap-tap"

The Darkness cradled Chieme from behind the shelf, curtain and wall. Certain footsteps made pace around the er


“Thud-thug-thu--Thud”  What is that?

Struggling.

footsteps

Struggling..

Chiemes fist crawled to the door but  she stopped, her spine wormed out.

“What can I do” She whimpered from within the darkness.

“You hear that?”

“Huh”, Chiemes heart stopped.

“You stupid b*tch! Is someone in here?!"

Chieme panicked, her back hit the wall of her hidden passageway and she whipped her head to the left, facing the narrow abyss she began to panick and run down the passage before falling into space.

“Clack, Thud Clack” The girl rolled over and over  crashing into the darkness from what felt like wooden steps. She hit the floor on the bottom and layed for a bit.

“H-ha-h” Chieme struggled to breathe from the breath being knocked from her. She curled into fetal position before struggling to her feet.Chieme got up and tried to find her balance. Pain bit into her body like a vipers flame. She brought her hand to the walls of the dark passage and continued forward. Soon she came to a dead end.

“No..” she whimpered as she searched the surface of the dead end. Giving the wall a defiant push she opened the exit. The last blasted the girls face and blinded her.



WC - 873/1500


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Start From Enoch perspective




A shrill and pathetic scream resonated through the air. The sound was familiar to Jahan, it was a woman in fear.

There is no sound comparable to the heart ache felt through that noise, it  bewitched Jahanghir. He investigated without hesitation, running towards the sound of the struggling he found her. '

He found Chieme, pinned by the the large predators. Surrounded on all end by the men in large number they forced her to the ground, readying ropes to tie her hands and ankles. Screaming and struggling while bleeding out Chieme had consumed all of her stamina. She had been found, and her borg immediately was shattered. She was no match for men in combat, and in their arms she cried.

Hot Tears stained her face rolling down her cheeks and unable to produce thoughts she wailed.

"Hyenas" Jahanghir growled. The scene inspired his anger and retaliation.

"AND WHO IN THE HELL ARE YOU!" an Enoch Savage

"JAHANGIR!" he roared back with a vicious echo.

The men tensed for a moment before rushing him in a storm, shouting with all intensity they ran in a furious waves. Their bodies scattered and reflected glints of light through iron clad armor. The enoch savages were a passionate formation of warriors but Jahanghir met them with his rage and power.

Jahanghir launched a powerful 360 back kick, the attack met the nearest body. Sending it careening backwards, slamming into the lines of men causing the line to falter for a moment. In the heat of the moment Jahanghir charged, with a vicious assault he stampeded the unbalanced line. He hit with the force of a car.

He hit like a lion with the mind of a linebacker. The line of men was shattered, but in their haste they would continue to launch fire at the world king.

"Shoot shoot!" The captain shouted above the sound of Jahanghirs charge.  Archers lined in the back of the mob readied their bows with haste, several of them launching arrows.

Jahan whipped his body back around 360, just in time to see a arrow sloppily lob through the air. The stick fell from the earth in a pathetic fashion, Jahanghir flexed his left arm knocking it out the air. He grimaced into a chuckle.

"Ha Ha Ha! TRY HARDER"

"Aaugh! JUST KILL THIS GIT"

Then it came the captain charged and with him all his men. At that point the men on either side didnt care about strategy nor formation. When the captain charges they were  all in.

Luckily for Jahan this was the case, Jahan was angry but his strength and speed were primed several time greater than them. They attacked in a blade party, a dance of several daggers and swords launched at  Jahan.

Jahanghir responded to the first attack, parrying it with his left arm before grabbing the attacking wrist. In an instance he clenched down up on it shattering the bastards arm. Jahanghir turned in the instant to deliver his back kick from the meter of safety the motion gave him.

His leg landed on assailants  midsection shattering their rib cage with ease. The assault continued with the addition of arrowheads. Jahanghir was not able to completely dodge the bolt which grazed his cheek in an instinct. He was only saved by his instinct to strike at the next body that approached him.

The fight was a mesh of adrenaline, jahans heart pumped but his body moved on its own. A man swung his blade, jahan reacted batting it away. The force of his counter destroying the mans hand tendons as ungodly vibration rattled through his palm.

And then another and another and another. Jahanghir sustained his reflex, shattering a crowd of limbs.

"Hia-oww" an enoch savage screamed as his thumb shattered along with his pinky. Jahanghir had no mercy mauling his face with a powerful cross that struck like lightning and rocketed over his chin. Jahanghir finished the 4 with a flurry of punches that sounded like thunder.

The commander was getting tired of this, he held his hand high. Jahanghir watched him with predatorial eyes. The men all stopped what they were doing and broke into formation. 10 of them lining up at either side.

Well it was good kid but your dead."

The man closed his hands, which was the signal for the archers to rain down on him. It was obvious so obvious the the world king was offended. Jahanghir dashed, the arrows  pierced his afterimages and he was upon the small teams captain.

"I dont have time for this shit!Idiot!" Jahanghir riased hislegs to the mans faces and stomped his nose shattering his skull. He stumped and trodded over the bastards face.

"This is what you want?!" Jahan was furious! How dare they dishoner his presence.

"You kill and burn everything that is beautiful. I just want to rip your throats out. Why cant you be sane people!"

The  man had no response, they had never been in such a surreal battled. They only knew to keep fighting, as that had become their lives. They attacked in another parade of blades and





WC [1730/1500]

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