Lord Mordread - Lightning Strikes In Hel

[Toggle Names]

Description: A Tyrant meets a God. Can a deal be struck?

Hel, once a utopia found within Outworld, was not just another cinder, a crater where peasants wallowed in mud and filth, where farmers watched their crops die and where boys ran off from their homes to become thugs, highwaymen and cut-throats. The skies over the Dark Lord's kingdom were perpetually red and gloomy, and fires always raging in the distance.

Deep within the heartland, a castle stood made of black volcanic stone, gleaming and glistening almost purple in some lighting even as banners and flags hung from the ominous structure. This was Castle Mordread, where the Lord sat upon his throne, watching dancing girls and court jesters, where travelers came to pay him tribute or else face the whip or the dungeons. Currently a dark figure was sat upon that massive throne, draped in black cloaked finery, his face obscured by shadow that sat underneath a gleaming golden crown of horns and thorns. Over his face, the crown came down as a golden skull that made it hard to see many details, save for eyes of pure malevolence.

This...was Lord Mordread. And he was not to be trifled with.

People use wild terms to describe unrealistic circumstances.

'When pigs fly.' 'When hordes walk on two feet' 'When the earth stands still'.

'A cold day in hell.'

Red skies, gloomy and blood-colored, starts to rumble. Thd clouds of black find themselves forced upon by shades of blue as lightning dances along the dark sky. The infinite void crackling with electricity as a bird's song fills the air.

The bridge between worlds was forced open.

In the dreaded and unholy realm of Lord Mordread, a lightning bolt strikes his throne room. Blinding nearly all by its light. Within the bolt could be seen a figure dressed in battle robes of white, gold, and blue. His eyes blazed like the storm. His form both spiritual and physical as the balance of the room shifted.

His harvester hat covered his head.

The Elder God had arrived. Defender of Earthrealm. God of Thunder.


The throneroom recoils in sudden fear and panic. The jester nearly has a heart attack as he flees to the corner the room, the peasants who had been waiting in their qeue to beg or ask their petty little favors were now groveling on the ground, fearful of this brilliant sudden light, and the slavegirls, all with their collars and shackles attached to the ebony throne, all tried to scurry but found themselves caught short with nowhere to go.

Through it all, there is only one figure who does not move, who does not react, and is perfectly calm throughout the entire elaborate lightshow. He does not move until the fury subsides and the man in the hat stood tall. Then and only then did the Lord of this land slowly rise from his throne, to his full towering height with goblet of wine in hand.

"A God decides to bless my humble kingdom with his presence. Everyone, bow your heads and show deference to our guest. Show him the true hospitality Hel is known for."

As the massive warlord raised his goblet and tilted his head in greeting, and as the entire throneroom showed their respect(except for the guards, though they made no effort to approach such a powerful being), the look in his eyes never changed, and his eyes never even blinked as he stared this figure. Lord Mordread usually wasn't the happiest of campers, and it definitely showed here and now.

The God of Thunder.

The fear and the recoiling of the denizens don't faze him whatsoever. Hisfiery gaze is on the ruler of this hells cape.

The God of Thunder.

The fear and the recoiling of the denizens don't faze him whatsoever. Hisfiery gaze is on the ruler of this hellscape. The figure who responds in sarcasm. Foreseen as sarcasm.

"You are the one they call Mordread." Raiden's voice was a paradox. It was like a still, small voice: A whisper in the wind. The soft touch of a breeze against the ears. Yet, his voice booms like thunder, echoing into the farthest distance and his clothes glow with a supernatural hue.

"You have caused danger to Earthrealm and her people. I demand recompense. Recompense in favor."

Goblet held high, his unblinking glare still transfixed on the Thunderer, the Lord didn't move for a moment, before lazily flicking that wrist and letting goblet and wine both tumble and topple, and clatter toward the God's perfect feet.

"The hare lives a life of fear, as it was meant to. There is no compensation needed from the owl watching."

Even as he speaks, Lord Mordread is stepping further into the throne room, and at a snap of his fingers, there are servants and squires all rushing to fill the space. With leather, with glove and boot, with plate and pauldron and helm alike. The finery was thrown aside as the mountain of a man was now bare before the groveling peasants, and his royal guard, even as he was being oiled and bathed, anointed with holy water touched by Asmodius himself. Even as he was being fitted for his suit. Piece after piece of that gleaming red plate mail was attached to him, fitted and fastened over trousers and chainmail gowns over padded cloth.

By the time that great Helm is fitted over his head, the Lord turns to once again regard the outsider who came to His court to make a lot of noise, and put on a big show.

"You presume that the owl even knows the hare of which whomst you speak. How could I, a humble ruler of a struggling province, be of any danger to your little ball of peasants?"

"You are all but humble."

Raiden speaks with hurricane winds. Thunder rumbles in the distance, blue colors mingling with the blood red heavens. Raiden's wrath knows no bounds. Worlds have drowned in his anger and wrath. This one may be no different. Yet before Raiden dresses in the armor of a king and a conqueror.

"You are hellfire incarnated. You have passed the veil and have long sought to expand your lands. But threats beyond your ken rise. Shao Khan stirs."

Raiden looks at Mordread. "A new Tournament is beginning." Raiden is reputed to see all. All that there is sky, Raiden is there also.

Mordread, the fair and just ruler of Hel(by his own words). Lord Mordread, A Conqueror Born. Although the Thundergod is small of stature compared to the heavily armored tyrant before him, Mordread did not make the mistake of thinking Raiden was any kind of pushover. Indeed, this show of strength was if anything, the first real display of respect the king actually showed. From behind that great Helm, there was only darkness but even then, one could feel the dark pits of hatred staring forth. At Mordread's command, serving wenches stepped alongside the God, offering a banquet. Roasted pheasant, succulent grapes, bottles of wine though upon the trays was a peculiar offering: Six cold looking orange cans, obviously closed with a drinking glass beside them. Though the writing was in an archaic and primitive language, Raiden and Raiden alone would be able to read the labeling: Orange Tab. Clear evidence that Lord Mordread's claim to not even know about 'Earthrealm' wasn't entirely correct. And he was showing it off as a luxury, as an acquisition, the same as the food, the same as the wine. Every offering in Hel that was not gruel, fire or death was here as a result of plundering.

"Ah yes, one of Shao Kahn's many knightly tourneys, clear displays of our great Emperor's might and prowess. Why tell me about it, now? Is this the Thundergod's challenge to the first real battle he'd have in his life?"

Even as he spoke, four men marched out, carrying a sheathed mighty Flamberge atop their shoulders as if they were pallbearers. Instantly, Mordread grabbed the hilt as he put out his booted feet, shoving them as he pulled it free. The men went flying along the stone floor and wall, as that beautiful glowing red blade stood, as a statement. As a threat. And, at the same time...as neither.

"No, somehow, I doubt that was your intent. What exactly -is- your ploy, Lord Raiden God Of Lightning?"

Compared to the Hel-Lord, Raiden was small in stature, yet the Conqueror showed his respect by armoring up in all of its fury and wielding his blade, shoving multiple men back to dodo as Raiden's body started to crackle with electricity in answer to a readiness for battle. His calm is unshaken. His eyes steady.

A feast arrives in all of the splendor and welcome. Yet, Raiden sees the truth in accusation. The subtle signs of a drink brand from earth: Orange Tab. The primitive tongue is easily read by the Thunder God.

"If I sought war, I would have brought it.Shao Khanwishes the melding of Outworld into Earth, expanding his empire. I seek to deny him greed." Raiden speaks, though he watches Mordread like a hawk. He does not reach for the delicacies. The servants may find some small reward in their pockets for services however. Tricky sorcerer that Raiden is.

"You will join the tournament and fight..for that which you seek plundering claim."

Lord Mordread, wicked and cunning as he might have been, would have no idea that wealth was being given to others, other than himself. Of course, the servants would be smart enough to keep their mouths shut to avoid any whippings in the public square.

For his part, the warrior-king was considering the God's words very carefully, that sword now leaning and resting against one mighty shoulder pauldron as he chose his words very carefully.

"And so you seek me as a champion, as opposed to testing your own mettle? Interesting, the way these gods always seem to work. Their mysterious ways."

In truth, though he was teasing the Thunderer, he was already planning and plotting in his mind. And his body language suggested that Raiden's proposition was not falling on deaf ears. Still, after a moment, he speaks while moving suspiciously away, as if he were getting space for himself as a swordfighter.

"How can I trust that this is a strategy of yours, and not merely fear or weakness? Perhaps you need my muscle to eliminate a threat you cannot handle yourself. In this land, only strength can ever be respected!"

As he moved, as he twirled his sword before gripping it in both hands, it was clear that he was laying down a challenge...would his opponent accept, and defend himself against these insults?

COMBATSYS: Lord Mordread has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Lord Mordread    0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Raiden has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Raiden           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0    Lord Mordread

"I seek a champion whose skill I can rely. I fight for Earthrealm personally. But I cannot fight every match. The laws of the Elder Gods be clear." Raiden speaks. But the warrior-king's blade is drawn, the hellish metal rings like death cries of the damned.

If it is strength he admires, strength will be his answer. Raiden's eyes narrow at the challenge. His body starts to electrify and glow as his hands flex and tighten. Battle it is.

"Come, then. Show me your worth."

"You shall HAVE my worth, Thunderer!"

Lord Mordread yells out from beneath that great Helm, laughing madly as that space he made between the two of them immediately vanishes. Because the eight foot armored juggernaut is rushing across the stone floor of his throne room at terrifying speeds, his left pauldron, covered with spikes, is aimed right toward Raiden's face. If the God of Lightning wasn't careful, he was going to have a few extra holes in his face to stick a straw through. Oh, and with the crushing weight of Mordread plus that armor, that wasn't going to feel very nice either!

COMBATSYS: Raiden blocks Lord Mordread's Chariot Of Steel.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Raiden           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0    Lord Mordread

The Beast approaches.

His teeth sharpened and his hide is tough. His shoulder comes charging forth to the Thunderer and his hand lifts and his stance widens. He catches the man's shoulder and his feet barely drag as he stops his momentum with a touch. Lightning stains his hand and thunder rumbles in the skies above the throne room.

Raiden pulls his left hand back, energy building in the palm of his hand. Hd thrusts it sharply towards Mordread's chest. Lightning emerges from his palm in all of it's wrath and devastation, trying to blast him.

Fire will answer Thunder's Call.

COMBATSYS: Lord Mordread blocks Raiden's Lightning.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Raiden           0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0    Lord Mordread

Voltage streaks through the Lord's armor, causing the warrior to straighten up and growl his pain until abruptly, he forces himself to walk forward and fight through the sensation. The good news for Raiden, that was a lot of metal, which meant a lot of opportunities for the God to fry his enemy. The bad news, there was just enough insulation here and there, and combined with Mordread's natural toughness, it meant Raiden would have to work a little harder than usual to get his desired result.

In the meantime, Mordread closes the distance and brings the pommel of that greatsword down in an overhead strike. Trying to smash the pommel, hilt and crossguard combined with his gauntleted fist, down atop the top of Raiden's skull through his conical hat. Moments after that savage blow, Mordread's left hand would come up against the Thunderer's chest, to try and shove him away. Whether he went flying, or whether he just staggered back a step or two, either result would benefit the Crimson King.

COMBATSYS: Raiden dodges Lord Mordread's Grasp And Pound.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Raiden           0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0    Lord Mordread

Seems Raiden must try harder to knock this warrior down.

The lightning strikes and doesn't quite have the intended effect. Yet, Raiden was quick. The pommel strikes a swift breeze as Raiden moves out of the path of the blow. The outcoming hand is pushed aside deftly aside.

Intending to use the close range toadvantage, Raidensuddenly charges Mordread, taking flight as his body becomes infused with electricity like a spear. He intends to outright tackle Mordread through one of many columns (or more!) in this throne room.

COMBATSYS: Raiden knocks away Lord Mordread with Elder Fury EX.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Raiden           0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0    Lord Mordread

Mordread is carried, sliding backward on his sabatons as the Thundergod smashed him through pillars of stone, and smashed him into the stone wall in the back, the one with far less give. Still, dust poured down, and the Lord's helmed head was lowered in silent pain. Still, even at this range he was dangerous.

With Raiden still flying forward in that unconventional tackle method, Mordread spun his greatsword upside down, quickly stabbing it through the God's back and trying to stab it into the ground beneath them both, with molten flame erupting from the earth to splash both fighters. It splashed harmlessly across Mordread's own armor...Raiden might not be so lucky.

COMBATSYS: Raiden blocks Lord Mordread's From Hel's Heart.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Raiden           0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0    Lord Mordread

Raiden kept forth his charge until both beings smashed into the back wall, just past the throne as the Thunderer looked upon his enemy. The hellish blade came from above, managing to partially impale him, but the flames strike some kind of ethereal defense, some electricity reflecting off of the flaming splash.

Raiden then pushes off of his enemy and attempts a simple strike to the helmet.

COMBATSYS: Lord Mordread interrupts High Punch from Raiden with Not Entertained!.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Raiden           0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0    Lord Mordread

The fist makes contact, but for the first time, as it slams against that crimson helmet, the figure before Raiden doesn't move. Instead, Mordread looks up slightly, and soon is bringing that sword up in a 'slashing' uppercut to try and launch the Thundergod into the air.

What followed next was a flurry of slashes and thrusts, that blade glowing hot with Demonsfire that cut deeply into every impact as even behind that, this was still a massive length of sharpened steel smashing into the God again and again and again and again.

Finally, Mordread throws out a backhand while the God is mid-air to launch him back into the middle of the throne room. Breathing somewhat heavily, the armored dreadnaught staggers out of the sideways crater left in his castle wall, and bellows out.

"ENOUGH! You truly are a Warrior, Thunder God...I am impressed. We will meet again, after I achieve my victory, and put a stain upon Shao Kahn."


Raiden is struck away and he lands on his feet on the ground, digging into the ground. Raiden rises to his full height, ready to strike, but the Hell-Lord wishes to cease the battle. "Good." The Thunderer states, nodding at him.

"Then I look forward to our next meeting. We have both proven worth to one another. Together, with the other warriors, we will push back Shao Kahn and deny him Earthrealm. Should you wish an answer to this conflict, your call will be answered."

Raiden stares upon the staggering king. "Rule with wisdom, O king. We will meet again, and Thunder will echo in these halls. I call you ally."

Mordread's head dips slightly, a nod of respect even as he works his way to a standing position and stabs his mighty sword into the stone floor.

"Call me what you wish, Thundergod. I will lend my aid when it is deemed appropriate."

This alliance wasn't going to last very long, but perhaps it would be enough to deal with a bigger threat. In any case, Lord Mordread was now highly motivated to learn more about this tournament.

Log created on 00:26:05 06/10/2022 by Lord Mordread, and last modified on 14:31:15 06/13/2022.