Moriamur
12-21-2008, 10:22 PM
An ancient war was at hand between the demons of shadows and the angels of light, the Wraifolk and the Ro-Sutoh...
The war of Wills went on for centuries to come until the Wraifolk where finally banished into the underworld from which they came from...
Seijin, last of the Ro-Sutoh, used all of his last strength to create a seal to keep them away from the world...
With the aid of the souls from his fallen brethren, and with the Dragons of ancient times, he created seven beacons or spirit vessels to guard over the seal; making sure that the Witch King would never return...
However IF the evil king would return, the Spirit vessels would respond and summon the chosen ones to wield their powers of old...
<===>
The blackness of space reaches to beyond any ones wildest dreams and thoughts, its coldness alone reaching into the furthest corners of space itself, all seems to be never ending with the stars slowly burning up their gasses to die and create new stars from its crumbled carcasses.
A lonesome castle like object is floating through space itself; its path leading directly towards a small blue and green planet in the furthest reaches, however slowly comes closer towards the castle like object like a magnet pulling metal.
Dark Gods Productions presents
In association with the Eurosatsu Group
Deep within the corridors of the great moving castle; shadows cover every wall, corner and hallway present, with strange high pitched grumbling sounds echoing throughout every where.
Loud footsteps are marching throughout the shadows, as a shadowy being marches through the many corridors; passing along black-and-brown clad creatures who all are wearing shields upon their chests along with a sort of shield like design plastered upon their faces with what appears to be a sort of amber colored gem on the place where their mouths should be,
“Worthless Schilds... All of them...” a bizarre, hollow voice mutters as the shadowy creature continues marching towards its destination; the grand doors much further down the massive hallway.
Behind the grand doors, a crystal clear lake is running over the floor of the massive room, fit for a king as more of the black and brown colored Schilds are standing guard with shield styled swords in their hands; however a few were completely black in color with flaming, amber colored eyes and skin as hard as stone, all standing next to a large black throne decorated with bones and skulls of humans, animals and creatures only found in nightmares.
Loudly the doors open, releasing a cracking and haunted sound to enter the room before the shadowy creature enters; his skin a sickly palish blue with a body looking more like a skeleton with muscles burned in place, wings torn and ragged while a purple and black scowl is draped around the creatures arms, shins, shoulders, neck and mouth,
“Lord Gomatré” the creature spoke as a chained arm with a black gloved, spiked hand waves the strange looking creatures away from the throne,
“What do you want... Specterial” an eerie calm voice, clearly young and male and yet old and menacing, answers the wraith like creature who kneels down in front of the throne,
“My Lord... Earth is coming closer into reach”
“Excellent...”
“There is more my Lord...”
“...There is...?” Gomatré hisses an answer while slowly stepping off of the throne, the sound of chains shifting around echoes loudly as a tall man with purple, armored boots walk past the wraith, Specterial, the latter shivering in fear at feeling the dark presence that is oozing from the man,
“...What!”
“The... The Schilds has found a knight floating in space, sire”
“Ketamax” Gomatré’s voice mutters while staring off into the corridor, his arms resting behind his black mantle covered back with chains wrapped around his exposed, right arm while purple metal plating is covering his entire left arm,
“Bring the knight to The Sanctuary!”
“Yes sire!”
“...And have the Schilds attack the most western part of Germania, for there is where the Dragon’s Blood is hiding”. A menacing grin slowly forms upon his demon mask covered face, as his eyes blaze both black and purple flames...
Crusader
Sentai
Hollanger
Quest 01
OP theme: “From the cradle to enslave” by Cradle of Filth
Guitars shredding, drums banging, keyboard crying and clear vocals singing loudly echoes from a garage; as inside the garage, the Lacrimas Profundere cover band known as Filthy Notes are practicing to get every note of every song right for tonight’s gig at their hometown’s local rock bar-café.
“Dude, tonight’s gonna ROCK!”
“Yeah...” the vocalist answers while taking a can of Heineken beer from the small fridge and tosses it over to one of the guitarists and fellow friend of the band; they all sit down while gulping down their beer, the drummer notices the singer just staring into the distance,
“Hey Jer... You alright?” he calls out to the young Chinese-Holland adolescence, who absent-mindedly turns his head around, still a distant stare in his eyes before snapping himself back into reality,
“Huh... Yeah, yeah I’m cool Andreas” he replies with a faint grim smile on his make up covered face,
“Just being tired... Been having this weird dreams”
“Well I hope your doing better, cause we have a gig tonight man” the keyboardist calls out from the back, Jeremy simply nods before standing up and walking out; leaving his fellow band members and friends behind to look dumb found,
“What’s his problem? I know he is depressed and all that shit, but seriously the fuck?”
“Shut it Michael!” Andreas barks against the keyboardist,
“Remember 10 years ago? The Massacre?”
Everyone nods slowly as Andreas takes another gulp of his beer before discarding the can,
“Well, we all were lucky not to lose anyone, but Jeremy wasn’t that lucky! He lost his frigging cousin who he was really close with and even looked up to...” he tells them all before focusing his attention to Michael,
“As for you, if you EVER have a big mouth like that, I’ll punch you into a bloody pulp! Back-up vocals or not!” he threatens as all that Michael could do was gulp...
<===>
A castle, standing hidden within a long forgotten forest, centered at the very middle of the Netherlands; slowly it decays into the mist of time, legends speak about how crusading knights came here to wait for the Chosen Ones to come. But they never came.
Storm clouds are slowly gathering amass the skies, blocking out the sun as it gets noticed by a silhouette in front of the large, empty windows.
“A storm is coming” a cranky, hollow voice speaks as a knight is staring up to the skies, only to turn his helmet head around, revealing no skin or face or even a skeleton underneath; watching to 5 glows in the distance,
“Could it be? The return of the Witch King?” the living knight armor asks to a statue of an angelic looking figure,
“No... But the spirit vessels are reacting to something with wraith like energy in the same vain as the Witch King...” a male voice suddenly speaks, sounding ancient and wise while also sounding young and warrior like,
“...The time has come”...
<===>
Black and brown thunder clashes from the darkened skies, as it is seen charging to the ground below, causing sand and pieces of stone to rise up and cover the area; only the loud grumbling noises can be heard from the dust cloud as those passing by are all standing still, looking in confusion at what is happening.
Slowly the dust cloud fades away, as the first human scream is released into the skies; those present all run away in a chaotic fear at the sight of the Schilds with their weapons out front.
Suddenly, as if on queue, the ground starts to crack as a fresh corpse rises and crawls out, releasing a terrifying howl while pieces of rotten skin falls off, revealing blue muscle tissue underneath while places where the bones are, are filled with the muscles. The creature howls a final time as the rotten clothes wrap around its arms, legs and shoulders; the wind blows through his bluish black hair while white empty eyes glares to the people and the place around.
It crackles a laughter from it’s none existing mouth,
“My... My... My... How much this land has changed over millennia’s...” Specterial cackles while eying the frightened civilians before eying the amass army of Schilds,
“...Schilds... Discard these colored fleshlings!”
“RAH!” all of the Schilds respond as one loud, grumbling voice with their shield blades in the air. They attack!
<===>
The wind blows defiantly through his shoulder length, dark brown hair as Jeremy walks past rows and rows of tombstones, walking with his eyes glued to the ground and his hands tugged in his long coat’s pockets while his mind is wandering off to the strange dream he has been getting ever since last Month,
‘Why do I keep dreaming that dream’ his thoughts are asking him, trying to lay a finger down for an answer to a question he doesn’t understand; the room, the murals depicting angels on fire being lead by what looked like a crusading knight and yet didn’t, a strange looking pillar and a voice,
“That voice” Jeremy mutters, remembering all to well what that voice told him in his dream, a voice that said ‘You are chosen by the Spirit vessel to wield of the Forge of Fire’,
“But what does that mean?” He asks himself while standing in front of a tombstone with angels carved on the sides, one holding a mic while the other holding a fiddle in their hands; the name Ville Ching written on the front with golden letters with the message ‘Gone, but never forgotten’ engraved under the name,
“I wish you where alive cousin... I could use your help now” he fights to hold his tears back while extending his hand to the tombstone to touch, only to fall down on the pebbled road...
<===>
Slowly opening his eyes, he is greeted to a grand red hall of times long forgotten with murals depicting battles of Angels of Fire against Demons of Shadows,
“Whe... Where am I?” Jeremy asks himself while slowly getting back up on his feet, wondering where he is, or how he even gotten here upon his eyes suddenly opening wider, finally recognizing the place,
“N... No fucking way? This... This can’t be the place of my dreams...” he tells himself,
“It can’t be...”
Singing...
Angelic singing suddenly reaches his ears, captivating him in its unearthly beauty as his feet starts to walk him to the source, but his mind screams no,
“Hear the song... Follow it to your destiny” a voice tells him from out of nowhere as all that Jeremy can do is walk, walking closer to a strange, round gate with a triangle on top, glowing a green glow as a strange swirling vortex is in the center of the round gate,
“Step through the gate... Young one” again the voice tells him as all that Jeremy can do is walk, walking into the strange gate...
<===>
Meanwhile...
High above the Earth’s atmosphere, a strange dark glow emits from one of the empty windows, as a black and purple flame ignites in Lord Gomatré’s left hand, taking on the shape of a strangely designed scepter as his blazing eyes glare into the Crystal Lake, revealing the rampage and pandemonium happening in a city, all caused by the Schilds.
A grin forms on his lips as he gazes into the lake; but suddenly his body staggers back against his throne with his eyes blazing, as a sense of a great power awakening flows through him.
The grin on his face grows,
“So... It has finally begun... The awakening...” he speaks in a calm manner, only to laugh loudly and menacingly as black flames surrounds his body, transferring him down to Earth...
<===>
Standing in front of the swirling mass of spiritual, gas like substance, as all that Jeremy can do is stare; while also having noticed 4 other strange looking pillars in the room with 4 people standing in front, all captivated like he is now.
Again the strange, ancient voice speaks to them all,
“Place your hand inside the Spirit Vessels, for you all have been chosen by destiny and fate”
They all plunge their left hands into the Spirit Vessel as a bright glow surrounds them all,
“Uhn...” was all that Jer could mutter as he feels the warmth of fire entering his body via his hand, how it is filling his body with the elemental power of fire itself.
A white flash covers his entire body afterwards as his eyes are granted a vision; a vision of a warrior in red...
<===>
The water splashes and breaks the sand of the shores, turning it into a quicksand like mud with seagulls gawking in the distance and the waves crashing; as these sounds reaches the ears of a young man lying on the beach, he squint his eyes a bit while slowly getting up on hands and knees,
“*kaff... kaff* ...Whe... Where am I?” Jeremy coughs a question,
“From the looks of things...” a voice suddenly speaks as Jeremy turns his head into the direction from where the voice comes from, as his eyes reveal to him an ancient looking knight dressed in black with burn marks and chains covering his right arm, chains wrapped around his left leg while purple armor plating covers his feet, right leg, left arm and chest,
“...You are at the beach... Chosen One...” the person finishes his answer while revealing a malicious grin on his demonic masked face; Jeremy slowly staggers back up on his feet with a look of confusion written on his face, while a single red lock flows through his dark brown hair,
“W... Who are you!” Jeremy shouts with a hint of defiance in his voice, only to see the stranger smirking deadly while walking closer, spanking the end of his scepter upon the palm of his right hand,
“Who am I?” he speaks with amusement in his voice, only to switch to a more serious and sinister tone, “...I am the Lord of Darkness, the future ruler of these god forsaken lands...”
“I am Lord Gomatré... And you are...” Gomatré exclaims calmly only to thrust his scepter out front, releasing streams of purple flames against Jeremy, the latter rolls out of the way with only a mere second to spare,
“Fuck man... You crazy?” Jeremy shouts only to dodge another stream of purple flames from the dark Lord’s scepter; the latter laughing like a madman,
“Bwahahaha-Hahahaharrrrrrr... Is this all that the Chosen One can do?” he cackles in amusement as a black, gas like mass forms in his right hand,
“...Then I am not impressed”, a grins forms over his lips as he hurls the black shadow ball against Jeremy, hitting him in the chest and sending him jumping and skidding over the sand,
“Gaaaaaaah!” Jeremy grunts upon skidding to a halt, as he forces his body slowly back up, feeling the poisonous pain of darkness stinging through his entire core; he uses all of his willpower to ignore the pain,
“What... Chosen One...?” he shouts through panting, “What are you talking about!?”
But no answer came, only the maniacal laughter escaping from the Lord’s throat as he launches a flaming blue fire orb from the palm of his right hand against him...
<===>
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v248/HIM_Ranger/Sentai%20-%20PR/Hollanger%20sub%20map/CrusaderSentaiHollanger-update.png
Crusader Sentai Hollanger!
---
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v248/HIM_Ranger/Sentai%20-%20PR/Hollanger%20sub%20map/HollandRed.png
Holland Red!
<===>
Closer and closer the ball of bluish flames goes as sweat breaks out on Jeremy’s skin, feeling the warmth growing hotter on his skin; he instantly raises his hands out before him, the fire ball racing closer and closer as contact is made!
“Hunn... huh?” Jeremy wonders while slowly opening his eyes, wondering why his hands are feeling both warm and yet cool as he looks; his eyes growing wide as his hands are blocking the blue ball of flames, slowly turning into a reddish orange color like fire normally is,
“Holy shit?”
“...WHAT!?” Lord Gomatré shouts out in surprise and in fury, not even believing how Jeremy is holding the ball of fire in his hands; the latter continues to stare at the ball of fire in his hands in shock, only for a small grin to form over his lips. He chuckles,
“This... Is rather funny” Jeremy laughs while examining the orange fire ball in his hands, feeling how the warmth is spreading through his very core and burning away the poison of darkness; Lord Gomatré on the other hand is close to fuming in anger at the sudden development,
“You worthless cattle... Thou shall BURN ALIVE!”
“I don’t THINK SO!”
They both shout as Gomatré launches streak after streak of purple flames from his scepter, with Jeremy responding by hurling the orange ball of fire against the stream.
An explosion follows that sends Jeremy flying and crashing into the sea...
“Heh... Just to make certain” Gomatré mutters with his eyes blazing in fiery colors, as he conjures up a navy blue fire ball from his right hand and purple traces of fire swirling around the scepter; a grin forms over his face, followed by a dark ominous laughter as he blasts the streaks and balls of flames to the sea, watching how the waters catches the flames that are dancing over the surface; with the dark Lord watching in glee,
“Well... That takes care of it all... Farewell... Chosen One...” he speaks in a tone of happiness while turning around and walking away, unaware of the flames behind him changing color and slowly parting ways with the waves clashing and crashing violently.
It causes Lord Gomatré to stop in his tracks as he slowly turns around, wondering what is going on; only for to witness the sea exploding in fire and water, to which he covers his eyes with a raised arm, protecting his vision while trying to stand his ground at the force the explosion brings along.
Slowly, where the waters are parting, a red glow emits as someone rises slowly, with orange flames swirling around the waves of water; the vision causes the Ancient Lord to cackle a maniacal laughter coming from his very throat,
“Nihihihahahahahaha...! So, looks like we have a round 2 now...” he speaks with a smile on his face; as a young man, clad in red crimson and silver chain mail slowly walks out of the waters with the flames dancing all around him. He slowly reaches a hand back only to pull a red hood with a black marking over his head, magically becoming round and solid with a darker tinted, red visor with a black glyph symbol representing fire plastered on it,
“Lord Gomatré!” the warrior, Jeremy, shouts with an angered voice,
“...I do not know WHAT you want, but it ends here!”
“Very well then... Chosen One...” Lord Gomatré calls out as the red warrior starts running out of the waters and to him, carrying a short sword in his right hand; Gomatré slow grabs hold of the part of his scepter where 3 snakes are coiled around and meeting on the top, revealing enough space to slide his hand into and grabs hold tightly,
=Battle theme: Asrai - Shadows=
“...And here we go...” a whisper leaves his lips as the medieval lord blocks a wide swing from the red warrior’s blade, followed by slamming the young warrior away like swatting a fly with his left arm, watching with a grin as the red warrior rolls over the sand before trying to get back up and shaking the numbness from his head.
He charges into the attack once more with his blade held up high upon bringing it down, only for the blade to meet the rapier in a block which causes sparks to bounce of from between the metal; a power struggle issues forth as Holland Red tries with all of his might to push back against the dark lord, the latter not even breaking out in a sweat,
“I would have thought that the Chosen One would be more powerful then this...” Lord Gomatré taunts the young warrior with a grin on his face as he moves his free hand back, “...But you are such a pity...”
“Oh put a fucking sock in it old man!” Holland Red spats back as he moves his left hand back, with the crystal radiating a red glow that washes over his closed fist; both their closed fists ignites in red hot fire as they thrust their elementally charged attack against each other’s chest followed by driving the two away from one another due to the powerful shockwave of the attacks alone.
Rolling through the sand, they both slowly get back up on their feet with the dark medieval lord grinning from ear to ear before licking his lips,
“Now that is what I am talking about... SHOW ME THOU POWER!” he shouts upon rushing into the attack, with Holland Red quickly tapping the Forge crystal on his left gauntlet as the black flame on his helmet shines a golden glow before being grabbed hold by the young warrior, causing the glow to expend only to fade away momentarily and leaving a solid long sword behind; he grips the weapon tightly by the hilt while bringing both the swords in front of him,
“Bring it...” he whispers upon charging into the attack as well; swinging and striking his blades wildly with Lord Gomatré blocking and dodging with ease followed by pushing his own weapon up, causing an opening in Holland Red’s defenses as he strikes with his rapier, the metal rod piercing through the young fighter’s left bicep and out of his triceps with the scream of pain echoing from the helmet.
He drops down onto his knees along with dropping the blade-bow onto the sands, as the metal rod gets pierced in deeper into his arm with the blood dripping and staining the chain mail of his suit along with the cries of pain coming from his helmet,
“Yes... Yeees! Scream!” Gomatré gloats as he impales his weapon deeper and deeper into the wound, “...It sounds like music in my ears”
Another cry of pain echoes through Holland Red’s clenched teeth, while glaring through his half closed eyes at the madman from behind his visor; his right hand gripping the hilt of the Crusader Sword as tightly as he can before forcing his body to rise up just a little bit.
SLASH!
“GAAAAH!” Lord Gomatré grunts in pain as he backs away from the young fighter, with rapier in his hand while covering a slash wound on his chest with his free hand; he glares painful and hatefully at the fighter whose sword is dripping with blood, his blood!
“...Why you... little...” Gomatré spats through cringed teeth, only to see how the red fighter moves the golden ball of his blade to the red gem on the shield shaped belt buckle; followed by the blade igniting in flames,
“Oh... Go... to... HELL!” Holland Red cries in pain as he charges into the attack with the flaming sword in front of him before bringing it back, preparing for a wide swing,
“Come on then... Hit me... Come on I want you to hit me... Hit me with all ye got!” Gomatré manages to taunt with a venomous grin plastered on his face, angering the young warrior as he swings with the Crusader sword in a horizontal arch and followed closely with a vertical slash, leaving a trail of phantom flames in the wake with a flaming cross emerging on the dark lord’s chest.
An silent explosion quickly follows as the force sends the red warrior flying away and crashing into the sands, landing on his wounded arm as he screams it out of excruciating pain before rolling over; dropping the Crusader sword on the beach, he clutches his wound with his right hand while slowly getting back up on his feet, breathing loudly and out of being tired.
“...Wow... What a rush” he pants while watching the small flames burning on the sand,
“...What a rush indeed!” a ghostly voice suddenly mocks the young warrior as streams of black mist coil and twist around each other, slowly taking on the shape of something humanoid; laughing from its none existing mouth,
“...W... What...?”
“Speechless young squire?” the voice mocks sinister as the black humanoid fog fades away, revealing the grinning face of Lord Gomatré who, while still covering the wound on his chest, seems to be in excellent shape with next to no further wounds visible,
“...N... no way...?” Holland Red spats in shock at seeing the dark warlord standing in front of him, smiling like a maniac at him,
“Oh you better believe it... I have been trained in the lost arts of Infernomancing, Necromancing and my own self taught Shademancing...”
“Shademancing...?”
“Controlling and manipulating the darkness and the very shadows” Lord Gomatré gloats in pride while stepping forward to the tired down warrior, still with the damned grin present on his lips,
“And I must confess... I enjoyed this little quarrel... You have a lot of potential in you and it would be a shame to let that go to waste...” he tells the young warrior while walking around him, examining him
“...Since it has been centuries ago since I last set foot on this planet’s soil, I am feeling very generous today... I’ll spare you so that you can grow stronger... However...” he places his right hand on the young lad’s shoulder while leaning in closely,
“...Next time I won’t be so merciful” he whispers while gripping the young one’s shoulder tightly upon fading away with the wind.
Holland Red quickly turns around, but the dark lord had already vanished from the place,
“...Fuck... Now I am getting a bad feeling... About this all” he mutters while taking hold of the side of his helmet, pulling it over as it turns into the hood that drapes behind his neck, revealing his tired and worn face from the battle.
He drops down on his knees...
<===>
Grinning, sitting down on his skulls and bones decorated throne, Lord Gomatré is watching at how wet one of his loyal generals are,
“Had a nice bath... Specterial...?”
“Oh zip it my lord... I had to endure some blue knight who controlled water” Specterial spats in anger, only to get send back against the walls of the grand hall by black lightning, screaming in pain like how his own father used to torture him,
“Remember what I said about daring to defy me... I don’t take kindly to that” Gomatré speaks calm yet deadly against his general as the Schilds and Ridders present in the room all cower in fear for the display of Shademancing their master is performing,
“P... Please... Forgive me... My master... Iii... It won’t happen agaain...!”
“Good” Gomatré answers as he retracts his scepter, cutting of the shadow lightning as Specterial falls down on his knees, breathing sharp and deeply due to the pain before bowing down for his master,
“Now... It seems that there are two of them... A red one controlling fire and a blue one controlling water... Could it be that the legends of old are true...?” he wonders to himself as the grand doors open and the sound of metal clanking on the ground echoes into the room,
“My dear lord...” a hollow, female voice suddenly speaks as Lord Gomatré looks up from his train of thoughts, staring down at a black and purple knight armor shaped like a woman with greenish blue spectral energy running through where the arms and other body parts should be; a soft smile forms on his face,
“My dear, sweet departed Sha...” Gomatré answers, “...For what do I owe your visit?”
“You flatter me too much, my lord” the living knight armor, Sha, answers as her spectral body turns a pinkish color, indicating that it is blushing before taking on the natural shade once more,
“I came to say that I’ve made contact to our earth bound spell caster”
“Excellent... Heksley is very much needed now for our plans to be a success”
“There is more my liege”
“...There is...?” Lord Gomatré speaks with a surprised voice, only to hear metal footsteps echoing in the distance; Sha nods with pride,
“The Schilds has succeeded in reviving the knight we found floating through space...” Sha answers as a dark, shadowy set of armor is standing in the doorway with blazing eyes glaring them all,
“We were unable to restore his body completely, but he is still in perfect fighting condition”
“Excellent... Hahahaha... EXCELLENT!” Lord Gomatré shouts in laughter while unleashing cracks of shadow lightning from his fingertips, with the shadowy knight grinning while entering the room and kneeling down...
<===>
End of Quest 01
Ending theme: “Blitzkrieg” by Deathstars
The war of Wills went on for centuries to come until the Wraifolk where finally banished into the underworld from which they came from...
Seijin, last of the Ro-Sutoh, used all of his last strength to create a seal to keep them away from the world...
With the aid of the souls from his fallen brethren, and with the Dragons of ancient times, he created seven beacons or spirit vessels to guard over the seal; making sure that the Witch King would never return...
However IF the evil king would return, the Spirit vessels would respond and summon the chosen ones to wield their powers of old...
<===>
The blackness of space reaches to beyond any ones wildest dreams and thoughts, its coldness alone reaching into the furthest corners of space itself, all seems to be never ending with the stars slowly burning up their gasses to die and create new stars from its crumbled carcasses.
A lonesome castle like object is floating through space itself; its path leading directly towards a small blue and green planet in the furthest reaches, however slowly comes closer towards the castle like object like a magnet pulling metal.
Dark Gods Productions presents
In association with the Eurosatsu Group
Deep within the corridors of the great moving castle; shadows cover every wall, corner and hallway present, with strange high pitched grumbling sounds echoing throughout every where.
Loud footsteps are marching throughout the shadows, as a shadowy being marches through the many corridors; passing along black-and-brown clad creatures who all are wearing shields upon their chests along with a sort of shield like design plastered upon their faces with what appears to be a sort of amber colored gem on the place where their mouths should be,
“Worthless Schilds... All of them...” a bizarre, hollow voice mutters as the shadowy creature continues marching towards its destination; the grand doors much further down the massive hallway.
Behind the grand doors, a crystal clear lake is running over the floor of the massive room, fit for a king as more of the black and brown colored Schilds are standing guard with shield styled swords in their hands; however a few were completely black in color with flaming, amber colored eyes and skin as hard as stone, all standing next to a large black throne decorated with bones and skulls of humans, animals and creatures only found in nightmares.
Loudly the doors open, releasing a cracking and haunted sound to enter the room before the shadowy creature enters; his skin a sickly palish blue with a body looking more like a skeleton with muscles burned in place, wings torn and ragged while a purple and black scowl is draped around the creatures arms, shins, shoulders, neck and mouth,
“Lord Gomatré” the creature spoke as a chained arm with a black gloved, spiked hand waves the strange looking creatures away from the throne,
“What do you want... Specterial” an eerie calm voice, clearly young and male and yet old and menacing, answers the wraith like creature who kneels down in front of the throne,
“My Lord... Earth is coming closer into reach”
“Excellent...”
“There is more my Lord...”
“...There is...?” Gomatré hisses an answer while slowly stepping off of the throne, the sound of chains shifting around echoes loudly as a tall man with purple, armored boots walk past the wraith, Specterial, the latter shivering in fear at feeling the dark presence that is oozing from the man,
“...What!”
“The... The Schilds has found a knight floating in space, sire”
“Ketamax” Gomatré’s voice mutters while staring off into the corridor, his arms resting behind his black mantle covered back with chains wrapped around his exposed, right arm while purple metal plating is covering his entire left arm,
“Bring the knight to The Sanctuary!”
“Yes sire!”
“...And have the Schilds attack the most western part of Germania, for there is where the Dragon’s Blood is hiding”. A menacing grin slowly forms upon his demon mask covered face, as his eyes blaze both black and purple flames...
Crusader
Sentai
Hollanger
Quest 01
OP theme: “From the cradle to enslave” by Cradle of Filth
Guitars shredding, drums banging, keyboard crying and clear vocals singing loudly echoes from a garage; as inside the garage, the Lacrimas Profundere cover band known as Filthy Notes are practicing to get every note of every song right for tonight’s gig at their hometown’s local rock bar-café.
“Dude, tonight’s gonna ROCK!”
“Yeah...” the vocalist answers while taking a can of Heineken beer from the small fridge and tosses it over to one of the guitarists and fellow friend of the band; they all sit down while gulping down their beer, the drummer notices the singer just staring into the distance,
“Hey Jer... You alright?” he calls out to the young Chinese-Holland adolescence, who absent-mindedly turns his head around, still a distant stare in his eyes before snapping himself back into reality,
“Huh... Yeah, yeah I’m cool Andreas” he replies with a faint grim smile on his make up covered face,
“Just being tired... Been having this weird dreams”
“Well I hope your doing better, cause we have a gig tonight man” the keyboardist calls out from the back, Jeremy simply nods before standing up and walking out; leaving his fellow band members and friends behind to look dumb found,
“What’s his problem? I know he is depressed and all that shit, but seriously the fuck?”
“Shut it Michael!” Andreas barks against the keyboardist,
“Remember 10 years ago? The Massacre?”
Everyone nods slowly as Andreas takes another gulp of his beer before discarding the can,
“Well, we all were lucky not to lose anyone, but Jeremy wasn’t that lucky! He lost his frigging cousin who he was really close with and even looked up to...” he tells them all before focusing his attention to Michael,
“As for you, if you EVER have a big mouth like that, I’ll punch you into a bloody pulp! Back-up vocals or not!” he threatens as all that Michael could do was gulp...
<===>
A castle, standing hidden within a long forgotten forest, centered at the very middle of the Netherlands; slowly it decays into the mist of time, legends speak about how crusading knights came here to wait for the Chosen Ones to come. But they never came.
Storm clouds are slowly gathering amass the skies, blocking out the sun as it gets noticed by a silhouette in front of the large, empty windows.
“A storm is coming” a cranky, hollow voice speaks as a knight is staring up to the skies, only to turn his helmet head around, revealing no skin or face or even a skeleton underneath; watching to 5 glows in the distance,
“Could it be? The return of the Witch King?” the living knight armor asks to a statue of an angelic looking figure,
“No... But the spirit vessels are reacting to something with wraith like energy in the same vain as the Witch King...” a male voice suddenly speaks, sounding ancient and wise while also sounding young and warrior like,
“...The time has come”...
<===>
Black and brown thunder clashes from the darkened skies, as it is seen charging to the ground below, causing sand and pieces of stone to rise up and cover the area; only the loud grumbling noises can be heard from the dust cloud as those passing by are all standing still, looking in confusion at what is happening.
Slowly the dust cloud fades away, as the first human scream is released into the skies; those present all run away in a chaotic fear at the sight of the Schilds with their weapons out front.
Suddenly, as if on queue, the ground starts to crack as a fresh corpse rises and crawls out, releasing a terrifying howl while pieces of rotten skin falls off, revealing blue muscle tissue underneath while places where the bones are, are filled with the muscles. The creature howls a final time as the rotten clothes wrap around its arms, legs and shoulders; the wind blows through his bluish black hair while white empty eyes glares to the people and the place around.
It crackles a laughter from it’s none existing mouth,
“My... My... My... How much this land has changed over millennia’s...” Specterial cackles while eying the frightened civilians before eying the amass army of Schilds,
“...Schilds... Discard these colored fleshlings!”
“RAH!” all of the Schilds respond as one loud, grumbling voice with their shield blades in the air. They attack!
<===>
The wind blows defiantly through his shoulder length, dark brown hair as Jeremy walks past rows and rows of tombstones, walking with his eyes glued to the ground and his hands tugged in his long coat’s pockets while his mind is wandering off to the strange dream he has been getting ever since last Month,
‘Why do I keep dreaming that dream’ his thoughts are asking him, trying to lay a finger down for an answer to a question he doesn’t understand; the room, the murals depicting angels on fire being lead by what looked like a crusading knight and yet didn’t, a strange looking pillar and a voice,
“That voice” Jeremy mutters, remembering all to well what that voice told him in his dream, a voice that said ‘You are chosen by the Spirit vessel to wield of the Forge of Fire’,
“But what does that mean?” He asks himself while standing in front of a tombstone with angels carved on the sides, one holding a mic while the other holding a fiddle in their hands; the name Ville Ching written on the front with golden letters with the message ‘Gone, but never forgotten’ engraved under the name,
“I wish you where alive cousin... I could use your help now” he fights to hold his tears back while extending his hand to the tombstone to touch, only to fall down on the pebbled road...
<===>
Slowly opening his eyes, he is greeted to a grand red hall of times long forgotten with murals depicting battles of Angels of Fire against Demons of Shadows,
“Whe... Where am I?” Jeremy asks himself while slowly getting back up on his feet, wondering where he is, or how he even gotten here upon his eyes suddenly opening wider, finally recognizing the place,
“N... No fucking way? This... This can’t be the place of my dreams...” he tells himself,
“It can’t be...”
Singing...
Angelic singing suddenly reaches his ears, captivating him in its unearthly beauty as his feet starts to walk him to the source, but his mind screams no,
“Hear the song... Follow it to your destiny” a voice tells him from out of nowhere as all that Jeremy can do is walk, walking closer to a strange, round gate with a triangle on top, glowing a green glow as a strange swirling vortex is in the center of the round gate,
“Step through the gate... Young one” again the voice tells him as all that Jeremy can do is walk, walking into the strange gate...
<===>
Meanwhile...
High above the Earth’s atmosphere, a strange dark glow emits from one of the empty windows, as a black and purple flame ignites in Lord Gomatré’s left hand, taking on the shape of a strangely designed scepter as his blazing eyes glare into the Crystal Lake, revealing the rampage and pandemonium happening in a city, all caused by the Schilds.
A grin forms on his lips as he gazes into the lake; but suddenly his body staggers back against his throne with his eyes blazing, as a sense of a great power awakening flows through him.
The grin on his face grows,
“So... It has finally begun... The awakening...” he speaks in a calm manner, only to laugh loudly and menacingly as black flames surrounds his body, transferring him down to Earth...
<===>
Standing in front of the swirling mass of spiritual, gas like substance, as all that Jeremy can do is stare; while also having noticed 4 other strange looking pillars in the room with 4 people standing in front, all captivated like he is now.
Again the strange, ancient voice speaks to them all,
“Place your hand inside the Spirit Vessels, for you all have been chosen by destiny and fate”
They all plunge their left hands into the Spirit Vessel as a bright glow surrounds them all,
“Uhn...” was all that Jer could mutter as he feels the warmth of fire entering his body via his hand, how it is filling his body with the elemental power of fire itself.
A white flash covers his entire body afterwards as his eyes are granted a vision; a vision of a warrior in red...
<===>
The water splashes and breaks the sand of the shores, turning it into a quicksand like mud with seagulls gawking in the distance and the waves crashing; as these sounds reaches the ears of a young man lying on the beach, he squint his eyes a bit while slowly getting up on hands and knees,
“*kaff... kaff* ...Whe... Where am I?” Jeremy coughs a question,
“From the looks of things...” a voice suddenly speaks as Jeremy turns his head into the direction from where the voice comes from, as his eyes reveal to him an ancient looking knight dressed in black with burn marks and chains covering his right arm, chains wrapped around his left leg while purple armor plating covers his feet, right leg, left arm and chest,
“...You are at the beach... Chosen One...” the person finishes his answer while revealing a malicious grin on his demonic masked face; Jeremy slowly staggers back up on his feet with a look of confusion written on his face, while a single red lock flows through his dark brown hair,
“W... Who are you!” Jeremy shouts with a hint of defiance in his voice, only to see the stranger smirking deadly while walking closer, spanking the end of his scepter upon the palm of his right hand,
“Who am I?” he speaks with amusement in his voice, only to switch to a more serious and sinister tone, “...I am the Lord of Darkness, the future ruler of these god forsaken lands...”
“I am Lord Gomatré... And you are...” Gomatré exclaims calmly only to thrust his scepter out front, releasing streams of purple flames against Jeremy, the latter rolls out of the way with only a mere second to spare,
“Fuck man... You crazy?” Jeremy shouts only to dodge another stream of purple flames from the dark Lord’s scepter; the latter laughing like a madman,
“Bwahahaha-Hahahaharrrrrrr... Is this all that the Chosen One can do?” he cackles in amusement as a black, gas like mass forms in his right hand,
“...Then I am not impressed”, a grins forms over his lips as he hurls the black shadow ball against Jeremy, hitting him in the chest and sending him jumping and skidding over the sand,
“Gaaaaaaah!” Jeremy grunts upon skidding to a halt, as he forces his body slowly back up, feeling the poisonous pain of darkness stinging through his entire core; he uses all of his willpower to ignore the pain,
“What... Chosen One...?” he shouts through panting, “What are you talking about!?”
But no answer came, only the maniacal laughter escaping from the Lord’s throat as he launches a flaming blue fire orb from the palm of his right hand against him...
<===>
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v248/HIM_Ranger/Sentai%20-%20PR/Hollanger%20sub%20map/CrusaderSentaiHollanger-update.png
Crusader Sentai Hollanger!
---
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v248/HIM_Ranger/Sentai%20-%20PR/Hollanger%20sub%20map/HollandRed.png
Holland Red!
<===>
Closer and closer the ball of bluish flames goes as sweat breaks out on Jeremy’s skin, feeling the warmth growing hotter on his skin; he instantly raises his hands out before him, the fire ball racing closer and closer as contact is made!
“Hunn... huh?” Jeremy wonders while slowly opening his eyes, wondering why his hands are feeling both warm and yet cool as he looks; his eyes growing wide as his hands are blocking the blue ball of flames, slowly turning into a reddish orange color like fire normally is,
“Holy shit?”
“...WHAT!?” Lord Gomatré shouts out in surprise and in fury, not even believing how Jeremy is holding the ball of fire in his hands; the latter continues to stare at the ball of fire in his hands in shock, only for a small grin to form over his lips. He chuckles,
“This... Is rather funny” Jeremy laughs while examining the orange fire ball in his hands, feeling how the warmth is spreading through his very core and burning away the poison of darkness; Lord Gomatré on the other hand is close to fuming in anger at the sudden development,
“You worthless cattle... Thou shall BURN ALIVE!”
“I don’t THINK SO!”
They both shout as Gomatré launches streak after streak of purple flames from his scepter, with Jeremy responding by hurling the orange ball of fire against the stream.
An explosion follows that sends Jeremy flying and crashing into the sea...
“Heh... Just to make certain” Gomatré mutters with his eyes blazing in fiery colors, as he conjures up a navy blue fire ball from his right hand and purple traces of fire swirling around the scepter; a grin forms over his face, followed by a dark ominous laughter as he blasts the streaks and balls of flames to the sea, watching how the waters catches the flames that are dancing over the surface; with the dark Lord watching in glee,
“Well... That takes care of it all... Farewell... Chosen One...” he speaks in a tone of happiness while turning around and walking away, unaware of the flames behind him changing color and slowly parting ways with the waves clashing and crashing violently.
It causes Lord Gomatré to stop in his tracks as he slowly turns around, wondering what is going on; only for to witness the sea exploding in fire and water, to which he covers his eyes with a raised arm, protecting his vision while trying to stand his ground at the force the explosion brings along.
Slowly, where the waters are parting, a red glow emits as someone rises slowly, with orange flames swirling around the waves of water; the vision causes the Ancient Lord to cackle a maniacal laughter coming from his very throat,
“Nihihihahahahahaha...! So, looks like we have a round 2 now...” he speaks with a smile on his face; as a young man, clad in red crimson and silver chain mail slowly walks out of the waters with the flames dancing all around him. He slowly reaches a hand back only to pull a red hood with a black marking over his head, magically becoming round and solid with a darker tinted, red visor with a black glyph symbol representing fire plastered on it,
“Lord Gomatré!” the warrior, Jeremy, shouts with an angered voice,
“...I do not know WHAT you want, but it ends here!”
“Very well then... Chosen One...” Lord Gomatré calls out as the red warrior starts running out of the waters and to him, carrying a short sword in his right hand; Gomatré slow grabs hold of the part of his scepter where 3 snakes are coiled around and meeting on the top, revealing enough space to slide his hand into and grabs hold tightly,
=Battle theme: Asrai - Shadows=
“...And here we go...” a whisper leaves his lips as the medieval lord blocks a wide swing from the red warrior’s blade, followed by slamming the young warrior away like swatting a fly with his left arm, watching with a grin as the red warrior rolls over the sand before trying to get back up and shaking the numbness from his head.
He charges into the attack once more with his blade held up high upon bringing it down, only for the blade to meet the rapier in a block which causes sparks to bounce of from between the metal; a power struggle issues forth as Holland Red tries with all of his might to push back against the dark lord, the latter not even breaking out in a sweat,
“I would have thought that the Chosen One would be more powerful then this...” Lord Gomatré taunts the young warrior with a grin on his face as he moves his free hand back, “...But you are such a pity...”
“Oh put a fucking sock in it old man!” Holland Red spats back as he moves his left hand back, with the crystal radiating a red glow that washes over his closed fist; both their closed fists ignites in red hot fire as they thrust their elementally charged attack against each other’s chest followed by driving the two away from one another due to the powerful shockwave of the attacks alone.
Rolling through the sand, they both slowly get back up on their feet with the dark medieval lord grinning from ear to ear before licking his lips,
“Now that is what I am talking about... SHOW ME THOU POWER!” he shouts upon rushing into the attack, with Holland Red quickly tapping the Forge crystal on his left gauntlet as the black flame on his helmet shines a golden glow before being grabbed hold by the young warrior, causing the glow to expend only to fade away momentarily and leaving a solid long sword behind; he grips the weapon tightly by the hilt while bringing both the swords in front of him,
“Bring it...” he whispers upon charging into the attack as well; swinging and striking his blades wildly with Lord Gomatré blocking and dodging with ease followed by pushing his own weapon up, causing an opening in Holland Red’s defenses as he strikes with his rapier, the metal rod piercing through the young fighter’s left bicep and out of his triceps with the scream of pain echoing from the helmet.
He drops down onto his knees along with dropping the blade-bow onto the sands, as the metal rod gets pierced in deeper into his arm with the blood dripping and staining the chain mail of his suit along with the cries of pain coming from his helmet,
“Yes... Yeees! Scream!” Gomatré gloats as he impales his weapon deeper and deeper into the wound, “...It sounds like music in my ears”
Another cry of pain echoes through Holland Red’s clenched teeth, while glaring through his half closed eyes at the madman from behind his visor; his right hand gripping the hilt of the Crusader Sword as tightly as he can before forcing his body to rise up just a little bit.
SLASH!
“GAAAAH!” Lord Gomatré grunts in pain as he backs away from the young fighter, with rapier in his hand while covering a slash wound on his chest with his free hand; he glares painful and hatefully at the fighter whose sword is dripping with blood, his blood!
“...Why you... little...” Gomatré spats through cringed teeth, only to see how the red fighter moves the golden ball of his blade to the red gem on the shield shaped belt buckle; followed by the blade igniting in flames,
“Oh... Go... to... HELL!” Holland Red cries in pain as he charges into the attack with the flaming sword in front of him before bringing it back, preparing for a wide swing,
“Come on then... Hit me... Come on I want you to hit me... Hit me with all ye got!” Gomatré manages to taunt with a venomous grin plastered on his face, angering the young warrior as he swings with the Crusader sword in a horizontal arch and followed closely with a vertical slash, leaving a trail of phantom flames in the wake with a flaming cross emerging on the dark lord’s chest.
An silent explosion quickly follows as the force sends the red warrior flying away and crashing into the sands, landing on his wounded arm as he screams it out of excruciating pain before rolling over; dropping the Crusader sword on the beach, he clutches his wound with his right hand while slowly getting back up on his feet, breathing loudly and out of being tired.
“...Wow... What a rush” he pants while watching the small flames burning on the sand,
“...What a rush indeed!” a ghostly voice suddenly mocks the young warrior as streams of black mist coil and twist around each other, slowly taking on the shape of something humanoid; laughing from its none existing mouth,
“...W... What...?”
“Speechless young squire?” the voice mocks sinister as the black humanoid fog fades away, revealing the grinning face of Lord Gomatré who, while still covering the wound on his chest, seems to be in excellent shape with next to no further wounds visible,
“...N... no way...?” Holland Red spats in shock at seeing the dark warlord standing in front of him, smiling like a maniac at him,
“Oh you better believe it... I have been trained in the lost arts of Infernomancing, Necromancing and my own self taught Shademancing...”
“Shademancing...?”
“Controlling and manipulating the darkness and the very shadows” Lord Gomatré gloats in pride while stepping forward to the tired down warrior, still with the damned grin present on his lips,
“And I must confess... I enjoyed this little quarrel... You have a lot of potential in you and it would be a shame to let that go to waste...” he tells the young warrior while walking around him, examining him
“...Since it has been centuries ago since I last set foot on this planet’s soil, I am feeling very generous today... I’ll spare you so that you can grow stronger... However...” he places his right hand on the young lad’s shoulder while leaning in closely,
“...Next time I won’t be so merciful” he whispers while gripping the young one’s shoulder tightly upon fading away with the wind.
Holland Red quickly turns around, but the dark lord had already vanished from the place,
“...Fuck... Now I am getting a bad feeling... About this all” he mutters while taking hold of the side of his helmet, pulling it over as it turns into the hood that drapes behind his neck, revealing his tired and worn face from the battle.
He drops down on his knees...
<===>
Grinning, sitting down on his skulls and bones decorated throne, Lord Gomatré is watching at how wet one of his loyal generals are,
“Had a nice bath... Specterial...?”
“Oh zip it my lord... I had to endure some blue knight who controlled water” Specterial spats in anger, only to get send back against the walls of the grand hall by black lightning, screaming in pain like how his own father used to torture him,
“Remember what I said about daring to defy me... I don’t take kindly to that” Gomatré speaks calm yet deadly against his general as the Schilds and Ridders present in the room all cower in fear for the display of Shademancing their master is performing,
“P... Please... Forgive me... My master... Iii... It won’t happen agaain...!”
“Good” Gomatré answers as he retracts his scepter, cutting of the shadow lightning as Specterial falls down on his knees, breathing sharp and deeply due to the pain before bowing down for his master,
“Now... It seems that there are two of them... A red one controlling fire and a blue one controlling water... Could it be that the legends of old are true...?” he wonders to himself as the grand doors open and the sound of metal clanking on the ground echoes into the room,
“My dear lord...” a hollow, female voice suddenly speaks as Lord Gomatré looks up from his train of thoughts, staring down at a black and purple knight armor shaped like a woman with greenish blue spectral energy running through where the arms and other body parts should be; a soft smile forms on his face,
“My dear, sweet departed Sha...” Gomatré answers, “...For what do I owe your visit?”
“You flatter me too much, my lord” the living knight armor, Sha, answers as her spectral body turns a pinkish color, indicating that it is blushing before taking on the natural shade once more,
“I came to say that I’ve made contact to our earth bound spell caster”
“Excellent... Heksley is very much needed now for our plans to be a success”
“There is more my liege”
“...There is...?” Lord Gomatré speaks with a surprised voice, only to hear metal footsteps echoing in the distance; Sha nods with pride,
“The Schilds has succeeded in reviving the knight we found floating through space...” Sha answers as a dark, shadowy set of armor is standing in the doorway with blazing eyes glaring them all,
“We were unable to restore his body completely, but he is still in perfect fighting condition”
“Excellent... Hahahaha... EXCELLENT!” Lord Gomatré shouts in laughter while unleashing cracks of shadow lightning from his fingertips, with the shadowy knight grinning while entering the room and kneeling down...
<===>
End of Quest 01
Ending theme: “Blitzkrieg” by Deathstars