Minecraft IV [Mod]

[Vice Ysal]

Some days, Vice was losing it horribly in the department in his head. Last time for example, he didn't know what had happened in the first half of the fight and just came back to the realisation that he was already being surrounded by an equally injured group of shadows. On the other days, days such as this, he was feeling better than usual. As if he could keep doing what he was doing and so much more. Hell, right now it felt like he could even rip a shadow in two just with his bare hands rather than relying on Arondight's exponentially increasing amount of power.

The growth was still astounding though, that compared to before, he just felt so much more alive whenever the whole 'lost' thing didn't trigger. Nonetheless, the amount of growth that he had been experiencing wasn't enough to satisfy the biker and with the only solution he had for himself, Vice soon found himself searching for more shadows to battle with for the mere sake of getting stronger. Today's agenda was just that, and that alone. He wasn't even going to bother mapping the place out--somehow someway, someone else was gonna do that for him with how use dup the mines from last time were.

So here he was, whistling a haunting tune just beneath his breath as he continued to enjoy the atmosphere that he was setting up for himself. Who knows, he might even get lucky this time around and find a worth while opponent.

[Erithania]

Behold, dirt.

Dirty Eagle

Skills
Death's Chill
Rainy Death

Null: Darkness
Weakness: Light

[Vice Ysal]

Just a lone soldier to take on the horde. Armed with nothing but claws and desperation, it fights against fate itself to see another day. As amazingly heroic as that sounds, it's not quite all that glorious in terms of reality. Besides that though, this particular situation didn't exactly exude a grand enough atmosphere to be called a war nor are there more than one fighter per team so there's no actual horde to go with either.

"Time to tear you a new one, I guess."

All was said with a smile and out came a king. The shadows stare was a mile, apparently it had found a thing. A foot forward and a broken mirror. The eagle wasn't a coward and fought such terror. Out came a demon in its glory, with vengeance it wanted to end a story. A destructive flap of the bird's wings, oh and how the needles sing. Roars and pain echo, yet they let it go. To stars above came the morning, the beasts wings and the ground adjoining.

It was with a sadistic smile, even when the poor shadow's body crumpled and splattered against the pain of the second Megidolaon, Vice continued. Nevermind the splattered blood on his person, or his blood mixing with the ichor of the fallen. A living hell for him and a living hell for them. It was just fair, he guessed.

[Erithania]

Behold, fat loots.



And by "fat loots", I mean "nothing"!

[Vice Ysal]

"Already gone. Just dead dead dead. Always like this when I'm actually feeling great! Honestly."

The man was actually throwing a small tantrum, wondering why he wasn't getting any other opponent to deal with. He wanted something worth fighting, not quite on the level of a Stratum Boss on his own, or anything like the shadow from back then, but at least something that could pose an actual threat to him.

Grumbling to himself, his mood now dampened by the lack of a worthwhile target, Vice turned around from the small scaled destruction and huffed. Looks like there was nothing else to do now except go home. His mood was ruined, and the place was dusty, and he was just feeling pretty childish for once and just wanted to go get some ice cream or something for his herculean effort of dragging his feet for some disappointment.