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| Before the Mirror; Quest Step 1 <p> Questers | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 11 2008, 05:25 PM (733 Views) | |
| Koralle | Aug 11 2008, 05:25 PM Post #1 |
More than carbon and chemicals.
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The blood. It was everywhere. From chest to hip it splashed across her like some macabre paint. She could not remember how or why, but there were dead men and blades left to rust in dirt. It wasn't often, well, never before had she traveled with a caravan such as the one that now lay as nothing more than ruined decor in a landscape of green forest. In the confusion of it all she had found herself unable to grab her own blade in time or even mutter a spell beneath her breath. Koralle had wanted to fight. Even if she wasn't the strongest, or the best with the blade she had, nor with the meager spells she knew, she didn't want to sit idly by and be completely useless. But that's just what she had been. She might have found it bemusing that a stranger's attempt to help her wound up with her falling head first into a rock and blacking out. Now she was nothing more than a hostage, and the boy who'd pushed her out of the way of dagger thrown was dead with the very same blade jabbed right between the eyes. In the fading light of evening she could barely make out the faces of her fellow captives, not even in the slowly building fire light one of the men had started up. She was just glad that her back was to the fire rather than shoved face first in it like the last person who'd tried to escape this place. Koralle was really wishing for her sword right about now. But it was in the hands of some greasy bandit, or whatever this group was, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something to make her situation worse. What she wanted to do was kick the guy in the teeth and tell him that he had no right to be flailing about her father's sword in such a disgustingly foolish manner. She knew she'd have to give the blade a good clean and polish later. But for the moment Koralle decided to not be a fool herself and pretend to be the unassuming girl mixed in with the lot of merchant's wives and villagers. A laughter broke out over the little encampment. Koralle knew full well why. The caravan's goods had consisted of good spirits and fine cloth, the merchant's daughters were young and there was plenty of both girl and liquor to go around. She shuddered at the thought, what men could do when under the influence of ale and wine. But she steeled her resolve, muttering words beneath her breath as heavy footsteps with a staggering gait drew closer. While he could not hear her the man halted in his tracks, his addled mind unable to figure out what that strange silverish glow had been in the midst of the captives. Whatever intentions he might have had faded as he turned back, apparently deciding he needed another drink. But it didn't matter, Koralle could see much clearly now. The spell let her see in the dark and now, well now she got a full grasp on the situation at hand. There were several men circled about a small cooking fire, they shared drinks and food, their gazes drawn to the handful of women they had captive only a few yards to their right. Other than the one man however none made a move towards the women. Except to throw a rock or stick at any cry or outburst of conversation to silence them. But Koralle was tired of silence. She stood. Maybe it was stupid, maybe she was just asking for trouble. Either way it didn't matter, even if her hands were tied she didn't care. She didn't speak because she was busy muttering a spell under her breath, foreign words softly whispered, her breath frosting on the air even though the weather was fairly warm. Her hands were tied at the wrist but she didn't need gestures to cast, just a word, a single word. It was then a stone the size of a man's fist sailed at eye level, but she wasn't listening to the curses nor seeing the gestures thrown out to her by the men at their fire. One of them ran, grabbed her swiftly by both hands, screaming obscenities and the like. Abruptly, one of his hands were frozen from wrist to elbow. He shoved her away and she hit the ground hard. But then there was blood and a cry and what she could best describe as chaos ensued. Here she was, laying with her back to the dirt. Wonderful. |
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| Deleted User | Aug 11 2008, 07:13 PM Post #2 |
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Deleted User
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Luther had been walking the area for a while. He just wanted to get away. He also wanted a new look. He was starting to be attacked at sight, and he did not want this. The only bad thing is, in order for him to find a new look, the person would have to lose their look. He had to demolish the body. Well, I guess it is time for some hunting He thought to himself. He smiled as wings slowly started to sprout from his back. He arms grew, and claws formed out of the fingers of his left hand. He breathed in pure pleasure as he felt the strength and speed from his tattoo flow through his vanes. The only spells he used were these simple ones. But it was these simple ones that made him a formidable opponent. He crouched, and with a push opened his wings, and took to the sky. He smiled as he quickly saw a man, a raider that had fallen behind from the rest. Surely they would not miss one. He laughed to himself, as all at once, he folded his wings in, and in a thud that was unheard by his comrades, the man was crushed beneath Luther's weight. Luther quickly ripped the mans face off with his claws, and ate it with a loud burp. He smiled, and then stood up, already his wings flowing back into his body. He was lucky, the man wielded a Katana. He would not be missed. Luther stored the body underneath a bush, and ran off towards his new "Comrades" He caught up to the group in time to see them jump a caravan. Many died, much blood was spread along the ground. It was all that Luther could do not to lose his cool with all this blood around. There was one that caught his eye though. A woman that he had done battle with a while ago. He laughed to himself as he realized, that she was just as helpless as their battle. The night grew on, and he drunk and laughed with the other men, them being so fooled by his new form that they took him is as their dear friend. The girl stood up, and a horribly thrown rock soared over her head. He could not help but laugh as the man who grabbed her arms turned to ice. His humor quickly turned to horror as the man threw her back, and she hit herself on a rock. Standing, he quickly ran towards the man who had been frozen. He smiled when he realized it was only minor damage. The man jumped up, his arms already starting to thaw. His body heat would make quick work of the ice. He started yelling they they should kill the girl. She was no good to them. The other woman worked better than she. The other men told him to shut up, and sit back down around the fire. As he was walking back though, Luther quickly jabbed a dagger into the back of his skull, causing him to fall to the ground. One of his comrades jumped up, but Luther smiled, and replied loudly. 'I told him I would get him back for that bet. Now, who wants some food? I'll go grab us some fresh meat!' The men hollered loudly, and went back to their drinking. Luther bent down, and acted like he was helping the girl stand sit back up, but as his hand went to her back to sit her up, her bonds fell off with a quick movement of his dagger. 'Stay still, and act like you are still tied' He whispered softly to the girl. Standing, he walked back to the fire, and walked behind one of his comrades. He tapped him on the shoulder, and then with a small flash of light off his dagger, the mans neck grew red. He smiled, as he threw another dagger strait into the face of the man standing across the fire. He dropped down to a knee as another dagger flew his way with a bad throw from a drunk man. He pulled his Katana, and swung it forward, taking a man out by the knees. The man had a strange Katana, one he had seen before. It was the girls. He slit the mans throat with Slayer, and snatched the sword off his back. He flipped backwards towards the girl, his strength spell carrying him almost all the way back to the girl. He set the sword down next to her, and reached into his jacket, pulling two more daggers out, and sending them flying to make another mans life end. He smiled, and then rushed forward into the mob of men. |
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| Drekki | Aug 13 2008, 07:54 AM Post #3 |
Unleash the Beast
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Sven clambered over rocks, snaking in and out of the tall evergreens that dotted the ridgeline as he navigated the low mountain pass, trying to stay in view of the moonlight. He was used to country like this, as it very much reminded him of his homeland though he was considerably farther southward. The shipwreck had left him stranded here, the lone survivor of that fateful storm; he'd said the due honors for the men that had been taken by the sea, though he shed no tears for them- They were good men he'd fought beside, yes, but they'd shared meals, a ship, and plunder, nothing more. At least he'd gotten a good story out of it, one in which a mermaid, her silken flesh alluringly tangible, her scales shining with the truth of legends had saved him from the angry sea, though he hardly expected anyone would believe him. Right now he had no plan as to where exactly he was going, nothing but the stars to guide him in this foreign land. He'd just been traveling northward, hopping from settlement to settlement, finding any sort of work he could along the way. His weapons clinked against his back as he ran, the tools he used to shape his craft, each blade as knocked and scarred from battle as the warrior himself. As if on cue, his ears detected the distant sounds of fighting, the clash of steel upon steel and shouts of alarm echoing through the valley. He ran faster, following the sound, unsure of what he expected to do once he reached the source, though he was unable to simply ignore it. He stopped when he spied the orange lights of torches flickering and dancing to and fro in the valley below. Even from this distance, Drekki could make out the shapes of an overturned caravan in the firelight, and a crowd of people swarming like insects to escape while their captors herded them into groups and bound them. It seemed all resistance to the attack had been quelled by now, and the apparent raiders were now counting their plunder as they prepared to move off. He had been warned these lands weren't exactly friendly towards wayward travelers, especially at night, though he himself was well capable of defending himself. Venturing a closer look, Sven carefully descended down the incline towards the commotion, doing his best to remain undetected as displaced rocks and pebbles tumbled down the mountain in his wake. It seemed the victors were indeed bandits of some sort, laughing heartily and barking orders to their captives as they led the women away like chattle. A part of him wrenched painfully as he watched the helpless girls tug desperately against their chains as they were paraded past the bloodied bodies of what had been their husbands, sons, and brothers that had fallen as they fought to protect them; he knew full well he'd actually aided raiders that had done no better, and he had his own life to see to, but something wouldn't let him abandon the prisoners to fate. He didn't know if he even stood a chance to save them, but he couldn't leave the scene, and he opted to follow at a distance. He figured even if there was nothing to be done, he might make off with a well-needed drink or a scrap to fill his empty stomach. He crept through the trees, easily hidden by the cover afforded him while he observed the men build a fire and camp out for the night, their voices already wild and merry with the effects of stolen spirits. Drekki staked out the campsite, noting the place the captives had been forced to sit down in, as well as the habits of movement and position the bandits had taken; he judged it wouldn't be too hard to free maybe a few of the women, let alone some provisions as the men were quite impaired by now, caught up in their revelries. He was about to move closer from his vantage point when he heard one of them shout, and he froze, thinking for a moment that perhaps he'd been sighted. He relaxed briefly as he realized his attention was directed towards one of the prisoners, a young woman who seemed to be exercising some sort of protest by standing up against the bandits' wishes. He narrowed his eyes in shocked confusion as the man that had tried to seize her found his arms suddenly coated with ice- She must be some manner of magic-worker, a sorceress. The spectacle that unfolded was even more intriguing however, as another bandit suddenly turned on his comrades in defense of the girl, quickly dispatching his fellows with a flash of blades before the inebriated wretches could even blink. Drekki saw the ensuing chaos as his cue to act, leaping over the log that had hidden him from view as he drew the twin axes from his back. He gave a savage roar as he rushed into the fray, spinning his weapons theatrically before he began to hack and slash at any in his path. The confused bandits scattered before the ambush, fumbling to arm themselves as they struggled to keep solid footing. Sven laughed loudly, cracking a smile of pure delight as he cut down his opponents with ease- As much as he valued a worthy adversary, a good challenge unlike the intoxicated buffoons that practically threw themselves into his axes, this was what he lived for- The thrill of the fight. Drekki paused as an emboldened bandit came screaming towards him, flailing his sword with each bumbling step. He waited until the man had come within range before sidestepping his ill-executed attack, letting him stumble off balance before he brought his axe hurtling halfway into the man's back with a satisfying crunching sound. Shoving the motionless body off his weapon with his foot, Sven turned to face the dwindling horde, slashing his way through their ranks with ease as he made his way towards the prisoners and their unexpected defender. |
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| Koralle | Aug 13 2008, 07:51 PM Post #4 |
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More than carbon and chemicals.
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Time, she needed more of it. She was no expert spell caster, she acted only on whim, and though she had managed a little bit of revenge it wasn't enough. If only she'd had the capability, she would have frozen the man where he stood, kill him off with frostbite and hypothermia and she would be glad for it. People had died, because of them, innocent lives lost. And for what? Just so a handful of cutthroat bandits could line their pockets with a little bit of gold. She'd seen it happen before. If only the gods, (did they exist anymore?) would smile upon her for just one day. Then murderers and thieves would expect no mercy from her. Ah, but she was no warrior. Her life had been spent wandering amongst Avalon's varied terrain, but she was no spellsword or mercenary. She'd fought and seen blood but more of her own had been spilt than that of others. The strength and foresight required for all that was not hers. She ... she was not her father. Koralle didn't want to die though, oh no. And she was not a coward, she would not flee here and leave those unable to save themselves to their own fate. To be sold as slaves, no doubt probably worse, to be made as nothing more than property. She knew she was no match for a whole troupe of cutthroats, but she wasn't going to just sit there and do nothing. But how could she save them? Or herself for that matter? She didn't know, but just sitting here doing nothing made her more worthless than risking everything. Of course she had been expecting no heroes. Koralle was not under the impression that life was just like the fairy tales her father used to tell her. She was no damsel and there was no gallant knight to save the day. This was reality, death could be swift or slow with no kiss to wake one. Koralle rather considered herself a realist. It came as no surprise to her when the men chattered on, angered at her insubordination. That she should be killed, punished, they'd show her who was boss that's for damn sure. Let them try, she thought, because she still had a trick or two at her own disposal. While she may not be able to take them all on by herself, she wouldn't just stand there and be a victim any longer. Even as she hit the ground she vowed she would stand again. Next time, next time she'd do more than freeze a man's hands. She'd cut his throat with a different spell altogether and she'd show no remorse! At least, that's what she told herself. A cut welled up on her cheek where the stone had sailed by, it's ragged surface leaving a thin trail of red in its wake. She didn't notice such a minor little thing because she had her captors to worry about. That was until one of the other bandits ran over and stabbed the man in the back of the head. For a moment the phrase about 'honor amongst thieves came into her head and she noticed it with bitter irony. She didn't trust said bandit for an instant when he moved to help her up. Considering the types of men that were here, distrusting them was well expected. Koralle even had the mind to make an example out of him. While the loosening of the rope about her wrists and the words he spoke were definitely unexpected, Koralle asked no questions. After all, for whatever reason one of them was helping her and so it would be highly inadvisable to kill off the one possible ally she may have. But she said nothing for want to avoid giving herself away. One of the other captives screamed as two bandits were felled. The fire sputtered at a spray of blood, Koralle snatched up the rock that had been throw at her only moments before. Her makeshift weapon was thrown to hit a target with much more accuracy than it had been thrown at her. The nameless bandit she had struck clutched at his wounded nose in pain before running off to join his living comrades. There'd be hell to pay now. Koralle moved to grab hold of another rock as the other brigands drew their weapons and made ready to battle. She flinched back at the sudden appearance of the man from before landing in front of her. Koralle vowed to question later when he'd dropped her sword before her. How'd he know it was hers? Koralle chalked it up to being a fluke and quickly regained the blade in her hand. Instead however she only gave a brief nod and stood. Her blade was risen defensively at the sudden vicious roar that echoed across the encampment. Giving the supposed bandit a questioning glance her attentions went back to the new arrival with the axes. He killed every man hat stood in his path, a savage fury in his assault. But he was attacking nothing but bandits and so Koralle let him be. For now she labeled him an ally as well. First things first though, she altered her path away from the fight at hand. Instead she put her blade to better use by cutting the ropes that bound her (former) fellow captives. The katana made short work of the ropes, but Koralle only had a brief moment to tell the others to escape. A bandit with the foresight to check on the captives had turned back, needless to say he was not happy to see the women escaping. There was only one who he could take his anger out on. But Koralle was ready this time, her blade swiftly drew up to meet the rusted saber drawn against her. She gave no battle cry, just parried the blow, knocking aside the strike aimed at her head. It had been a heavy blow, but the enchanted katana took the strike solidly, not bowing to the pressure or even sending a spark of steel across its surface. But it wasn't enough, she wasn't satisfied with simply staving off a blade. No, she'd teach him a lesson. She'd show them all the error of their ways. Giving a half hearted sideways slash to her 'opponent', Koralle stepped in close. Rendering both blade useless, however a killing blow from steel was not her intention. Rather she brought her opposite hand about, slamming an open palm against the man's chin and uttering a single word. With a flash of spell the magicked blades like minuscule knifes had left the man with only half his face remaining. He fell, dropping his sword, and his hands moved to try and stop the blood flowing down his face. Koralle gave him a scar he wouldn't soon forget. Abandoning the bleeding man there she shook the blood from her own bleeding palm. It didn't take long to return to the point this whole thing had started from. The two men who made it obviously known that they were not allied with this group of vagabonds were still in the midst of their own spot of bloodshed. Koralle was not quite so eager as they to get heads rolling but she was no longer playing the part of an unassuming village girl. There was no sense of order to the fight, the bandits running blindly in to try and kill the intruders and Koralle was set upon by two opposing forces of her own. They both had poorly cared for swords of some description. She was sure in for trouble, she thought as her blade was risen up to catch one incoming sword by the blade as it came in from the left. |
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| Deleted User | Aug 19 2008, 03:52 PM Post #5 |
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Deleted User
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Luther had just stabbed another man with his daggers when he heard a beastly call. He looked up, and jumped high into the air as the man with two axes charged beneath him. He laughed as the men fell at his feet. With one sweep of his axes, three men would fall. He laughed again as he dropped down behind a man. The man turned, and the look of horror was still on his face as Slayer punctured strait through his stomach. He ripped the sword upwards, spilling the contents of the mans sword onto the ground. He kicked into the air, and did a back flip, landing behind the woman that he had originally saved. He kneeled down as the men tried to figure out where he went. The ale had weakened their minds. Anybody could have watched his arc through the air, but they were panicked, and people who panic, become people who die. One of the men that ran passed looked familiar, and somewhere inside Luther, a memory came up. He did not know why, but he knew the man. He smiled, and raised a dagger, but he just couldn't allow himself to throw the dagger at the man. The man looked his way, and charged towards him. When Luther was sure that nobody else could see, he changed his face back to its demon form, and grinned at the man. The man stopped in a dead run, and collapsed to the ground, completely passed out. Luther quickly put his human face back, and laughed loudly as the lady slapped a man and then all of a sudden, the mans face grew cuts on it. He liked that. The man with the axes was still hacking away. He caught the scent of fire, and as he turned around, a fireball crashed into him. Flying back into the crowd, the demon held two throwing daggers outwards, slicing anybody who got in his way. He stood back up, and ducked as another fireball flew into the crowd of people at him. It slammed into the man behind him, and he ducked down. He had a funny feeling that the source of these fireballs, could see who he truly was. This mage, could see the demon that lied inside the harmless body. Luther could not have that. He looked around for the source, but there was too many men coming at him. He ducked down, and swept outwards with his sword, taking three of the men out by the knees. He flipped up into the air, and landed in a place where he was no longer surrounded. He fingered two daggers, and sent them sailing into the crowd. The grunts he heard answered his question if he hit anything. Now, to find that blasted mage. Luther ran towards the girl he saved, and slid to a stop right in front of her. 'I would watch your back. There is a damned mage out there somewhere, and it seems like he is helping the bandits.' Luther flipped up as a poorly aimed rock flew in his direction. He searched the crowd, and located the person who had thrown it. The man dropped the rest of his rocks when he saw Luther grinning at him, and took off running. Two daggers sailed through the air, embedding themselves into the back of the mans skull. He spun around to see if the girl was okay, but at the same time, a second fireball took him off of his feet, and knocked him out. |
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| Koralle | Sep 1 2008, 09:05 PM Post #6 |
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More than carbon and chemicals.
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))Bump.(( There was a flash of soft light from her unarmed hand, as a shield instinctively rose. The man, surprised, stumbled backwards at the force of his blade's rebound. Koralle had little time to bother with him as her second attacker brought his blade swiftly about. She parried it with a little luck, the clash of steel on steel echoed amongst the clearing despite the clamor of other fights occurring. While the shield created of magical energies glimmered on the air, the first of her attackers apparently found it more than he wished to handle and fed. Right into the blade of another man, no less. But Koralle had no care of sympathy, as she was occupied with staving off another blow fro the rusted longsword. While her blade held true, she could feel the man's old blade creak under the force of one blow too many. Through years of misuse and lack of care she could see great chunks of rust flake off. As the blade clashed against hers again and again Koralle too this knowledge to heart and with a barely managed pivot, brought the magical shield to block the incoming blow. With a resounding snap and a surprised curse the old blade cracked and fell apart, a rusted shard of iron laying in dust. Enraged at the destruction of his weapon by a mere girl, the offender charged. Koralle hadn't the time to follow up with the shield as it faded away to nothing. What she did accomplish was bring up her katana in self defense, the enchanted blade slicing through the charging man's abdomen and out to one side of the waist. With a disgusted look on her face indicating she was close to being ill Koralle wrenched her blade free and fled the scene. There was nothing else to do here anyways. Finding herself in the midst of dead and dying bandits all in various stages of destruction, Koralle slung her blade to cast away the blood coating its sleek surface. She brought the blade up to her chest in defense as a man ran right toward her. But she lowered the blade as he slid to a stop and she recognized him from their encounter earlier. Koralle was about to say something at first, but thought better of it and simply nodded instead. A mage .. out there? This could only turn out for the worst. Koralle had been prepared to stand up against bandits for what little she'd accomplish. But someone out there wielding the arcane? Something she had no real defense against? This was turning even more dangerous than she'd first anticipated. Tightening her grip on the hilt of her katana to keep her hand from shaking Koralle surveyed the camp again, trying to keep tabs on who was on 'her side' and who wasn't. It seemed the captives had made their escapes, horses taken for the occassion, and dead bandits everywhere. The swift footsteps from behind her was all the warning she needed to know. Spinning about with her sword at the ready she barely avoid the poorly aimed knife thrown at her side. Just as the man went for another dagger he was slain by one of his own kinsmen in flight. Well that takes care of two more. Koralle thought to herself as she turned with the intention of meeting her currently dubbed allies. Instead however she saw her knife wielding ally knocked off his feet by a well aimed fireball. shuddering at some long since thought repressed memory of fire and burning houses Koralle found herself having ran to the downed fighter's side. Making sure he was still alive Koralle watched his breathing for a moment. Finding that he was alive but knocked unconscious Koralle stood with a curse beneath her breath as she scanned the trees for the well hidden magic caster. Her own hand tingled with magic for a moment, before she realized she had little in the way of long range. And instead she only gave her blade an irritated strike to midair before calling out into the night. "Coward! Show yourself. Stop this skulking in the shadows like a damned cur and come out and fight." |
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| Dhar'leth | Sep 29 2008, 10:03 PM Post #7 |
Mors Principium Est
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Necromancy was an expensive business. The bodies had to be recovered by someone, as did the various artifacts, tomes, scrolls and . . . other acoutrements of the art. The grave-robbers of Avalon demanded a wage, Dhar'leth saw to it that they received one for their loyal and recurring services; one who would commit such deeds for coinage was a useful friend indeed. The City Watch, ever the crooked organisation, required a pretty penny to keep their officers conveniently occupied on other affairs and the bows of their militias pointed elsewhere. Even the legal, or more specifically not illegal, items required for a practitioner of the black arts were prohibitively expensive for most of Avalons denizens. Such considerations in mind he had seen fit to venture into areas of a more financially beneficial nature such as investments, banking, money lending . . . piracy, raiding, contracted murder. It was all so simple, so easy with the authorities under his thumb, the wealth to bribe even a saint and the means to have one befall a sudden tragedy should the necessity arise. This carefully planned attack on a simple caravan had been realised through a contracting agency; a thugs-for-hire business providing the services of the most rudimentary of fighters - perfect for slaughtering the lowly guardsmen which were assumed to be accompanying the band. The plan was one which had been enacted many times before - ambush the caravan outside of the city walls, kill the guards, loot what values there were. The corpses were to be returned to Dhar'leth for the purpose of experimentation. The able-bodied men to be sold as galley slaves, pit fighters and miners, occupations where they would not be discovered for the remainder of their short lives. The women were to be sold at a clandestine auction to whichever corpulent, sweaty merchant would pay the most. The infirm and elderly were useless as slaves, Dhar'leth too considered them largely unfit for servitude in undeath, and so they were to be butchered and rot where they lay. The long-dead magician had not anticipated resistence of any meaningful significance, as such he had sent a regent in his stead; an avatar of sorts which he could control from the safety of his lair such the need arise. This avatar continued with the bandits as an automaton, possessed by Dhar'leth fully when and if the need became apparent. The being was but an elven skeleton engraved with arcane runes and glyphs which bound it fully to his will. A heavy robe of blood-red velvet encased the walking corpse, shielding it's horrific visage from onlookers and fully concealing it's blasphemous nature from any who might see it. When the first drop of blood had been spilled the empty black cavaties in it's skull glowed with a dull purplelight, a mimicry of the demonic orbs which formed Dhar'leth's eyes. It was no longer a mindless body but a vessel for Dhar'leths mind and magic. The avatar began muttering in an ancient tongue, a long forgotten language of an ancient and wholly evil people of elvish ilk. The words of this race, long since destroyed by inner conflict and political machinations, were projected from the chattering yellowed and broken teeth of the avatar. Three beams of light shot from the avatar's hands and forehead, meeting at it's chest they formed a fiery ball of swirling colour; emerald green, a sickly purple, and a dazzling hue of sapphire blue. The fireball would be stunningly beautiful if it were not for the aura of sheer malignance which radiated from it. The first ball was fired but missed the woman by an inch as a result of her movement. Another formed quickly and propelled towards a second target, a wielder of knives who fought with finesse and great speed but was, none-the-less, knocked unconcious from the power of the blow. Dhar'leth recognised that his presence was about to be discovered; the fighting had died down and another ball of energy would surely reveal him. He chanted, the sounds emitting from the skeletal maw of the avatar seemed not to be words at all but noises entirely inhuman and indiscernable. The bandit whose face had been partially cut off had exsanguinated from the wound, but from the sticky pool of leaked vitality he arose pushing himself from the ground with his hands. He grasped his sabre once more, the memory of its usage returning to him, he swung it from side to side refamiliarising himself with its presence. The avatar remained muttering, it's face masked by the robes hood with only a faint glow of light escaping from it. It stood several metres away from the battle scene, lurking just off the campsite. Several corpses began to twitch as a false life began to stir within them. The mortal wounds dealt them in the last moments of their lives were no longer of consequence as darkest magic began to course through their veins. The stink of death and blood in the air was displaced by something wholly different . . . something wrong, something unnatural. It smelled of foul magic. |
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Name | Dhar'leth Gender | Male Race | Deified Lich [former Vampire]  Description Inventory Spellbook Fleet Minions edited by: Sir's Signature Repair Shop  -Car ter | |
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| Koralle | Nov 4 2008, 06:34 PM Post #8 |
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More than carbon and chemicals.
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Even as her gaze stared into the dark, Koralle knew there was something wrong. It had grown far too quite, and it was not the simple lull of a finished battle. Rather the air was thick with a feeling of wrong. Something was not right here, the mysterious appearance of the spellcaster, the sudden flight of the remaining bandits. Koralle could claim no sort of sixth sense, or especially insightful capabilities. However, it didn't take a genius to find that glimmer in the darkness less than inviting. To see that the fear exhibited by the fleeing bandits was not because of some girl with a sword. A dark force was at work here. And she. Well she was just about to find out how bad it was. The sound at her back was one of footsteps. However, it was the shuffling gait that caused her to swiftly turn about. Her sword was brought up in defense. But she was not expecting the sight which stood before her. The man she'd killed, the one she had cast her frustrations and magics upon. Was standing. You could not call him alive, not with half his face missing flesh. Not with the blood dripping, congealed thick, dark red covering the shredded portion. Bone was exposed from his cheek, an eye threatening to fall out at any moment. Her stomach churned at the sight before her. Shaky hands brought her weapon to raise in defense. This was no time to be ill however, this was no time to just stand in wait. More were rising. Bandits and slain captives both. And there was nothing she could do about it. Dead were rising, in all manner of dismemberment and blood, limbs intact and limbs those chopped to pieces by axe and dagger left hands and arms to lay at their feet. Weapons were raised again. Never before had Koralle seen such a frightening creation. This was the likes of which existed only in the darkest of tales. She would not believed it if she hadn't been there to witness the event first hand. Even though she was here she could barely believe it. Both hands rose to grip her weapon, but the left flew to cover her mouth instead to quell the bile rising in her throat. They were dead! They should stay dead! Taking a stumbled step back, she glanced back over her shoulder into the darkness. Something glowed, then vanished there. Koralle didn't know what it was. "You ... let. Let the dead, stay dead." Her hands fell to her blade, raising her sword up to defend against the rusted saber of the dead bandit who's face she had removed. Pushing the attacker away proved to be more difficult than anticipated. In death the automatons were stronger than when they had been men. And she was surrounded. Where were her so called heroes now? Had they fled at the sight of such unholy magics at work? Were they dead? She trembled. Oh gods. |
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| Kaono | Nov 7 2008, 01:41 PM Post #9 |
The Stormbringer
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(Is Sujin) Why oh why did it have to be undead? Couldn’t it of been something else? You know Orc’s or maybe goblins. Nah, the shit hit the fan, and Skaren was paying for offering his services to the bandits. The youth didn’t partake in the slaughter, instead he watched from afar, blue eyes watching the fire light and the spray of crimson that played off the flame and clashing steel. Not a beautiful site and it truly didn’t sit well with the blue eyed youth, but hey… what can you do? He was hired to do a job… this of course wasn’t it but he didn’t have any say over what his bosses did in their spare time. With a heavy sigh, the mercenary arose from his resting place which happened to be a bolder just a ways away from the raid. Hair of black cascaded down his back, an unruly mane that could put lion’s to shame. Gloved hands reached inside a long coat and unsheathed two weapons, the first being a longsword, its handle slightly elongated and curved for purposes unknown, this weapon would have been found in his right hand. As his left unsheathed a dagger, it matched the longsword well as if they had been both forged at the same time, a fine dagger forged of steel and built with a curved handle as well. Skaren’s distaste for the situation had grown too large, so he saw fit for him to personally terminate his contract. Weaponry in hand, soft leather boots tapped softly in the night, the sound of the wind whipping threw his coat and baggy pants. “Hey! Tell your boss I officially QUIT!” Skaren’s spoke into the wind as his dagger flipped around into a reversed grip position finding its home in the shoulder of what appeared to be one of his former comrades. But, there was no scream of pain, no spray of blood… no cursing. Freeing the blade from the bone in the bandits shoulder Skaren stepped back only to have the thing turn around his body now visibly hacked to pieces, limbs staying attached by strands of flesh and muscle. Blue eyes opened wide, only to find himself ducking and rolling to the left due to another Zombie bandit attack, this one with a rusty longsword raised high. “Kioku’s chipped fang, Zombies!” Skaren Cursed as he rose to his feet swinging his Longsword with all his rising might, relieving the longsword wielding zombie of his weapon… and arm. His body spun on a pivot, his dagger cutting clean threw the neck with little resistance from the already rotting flesh. Things just get better and better… don’t they? |
 "Come... Show me what your kind calls fury."-Kaono "If your blade is drawn... then cut."-Kaono }|{Description}|{}|{Theme Song}|{}|{Inventory}|{ PhantomInventory | |
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| Jade Lorien | Nov 8 2008, 11:33 PM Post #10 |
The Ronin
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((Forgive me delving into some of this intro stuff, it's gonna take me a bit to get back into character again.)) Jade found himself once again roaming the southern lands of Avalon, following a path opposite to that of a bird looking for a winter home. He was making his way back toward Eamor, walking for a while between teleports. He had learned the amazing technique of transferring matter between two points as a result of a latent power being awakened in him by one of the protectors of the world spirit. It had taken an intense bout of training to force the ability to come to the fore, a bout that had nearly culminated in his own death. But in the end the power was drawn out, almost as if reluctant to be drawn into the light of day. Be that as it may, the ronin was no magician or sorceror. He simply hadn't the ability to travel from Fincayra to the Avalonian capital by any means. He simply used it to accelerate his travels by skipping large chunks of the in-between land. As it happened, he was in one of those in-between chunks at this moment. Traveling by foot wasn't such a bad thing, it's just that once you've access to alternate and faster means of transportation... it tends to get a little monotonous and dull. But at the same time walking on foot kept him from straying far from his roots, and for that he was glad of it. These solitary interludes are when he had more time to think than at any other moment, and take advantage of that fact he did. Though it was just as easy to allow his mind to become a clean slate and simply admire the land without thinking of worries and troubles that lay behind or ahead of him. He could be at peace, as it were. He was greatly looking forward to arriving back at Eamor, of course. Spending time with his son and Jocelyn brought him more joy in life than anything else possibly could, so he made sure to do it whenever possible. Duties took him away from time to time, but when the Order began unraveling all around him, official duties started disappearing quite rapidly. The only real ties he had anymore were to Jocy and her city of Eamor, and even then the ties were loose ones at best since they still hadn't seen fit to be married. Ah well. Just one more matter to consider upon arrival home. And home it was, the first true one he'd had since leaving his homeland to follow his brother's journey to the west. As the swordsman moved inexorably forward, he began to hear the distant but unmistakable sounds of conflict. The clashing of steel, shouting of voices both in confusion and anger, and the humming aura of the arcane all reached him from a point a bit to the northwest. His senses may have been heightened a bit to the point where he could detect things sooner, but that left him with the problem that at such a range, he wasn't sure quite where the conflict was occurring at. He decided to take a pursuit angle somewhere toward the center of his estimation of the direction and took off at a bound. His decision was rewarded well. The sounds were growing louder and more concise, and finally as he crested a hill he was able to see the entire scene laid bare before him. He had arrived just in time to watch as men began to pick themselves up from the ground while a couple of confused defenders looked on. The men quite obviously should not have been getting up from the ground, for the most part. There was evidence of fatal strikes on the majority of them, ranging from knives in skulls to parts of the torso being removed by a blade. Jade had seen this kind of thing before. More than once, actually. He hated the dark art of necromancy with a passion. It was the most unnatural sort of magic in existence, as far as he was concerned. Desecrating the dead by using their bodies as puppets for some other personal scheme was not what he considered to be acceptable behavior. Let the dead be, and deal with the living. Upon realization of what was happening below, coupled with the sight of there only being a couple of defenders below galvanized Jade into immediate action. He bounded down the hill in the direction of the female figure with the blade that he couldn't discern from where he stood. As he ran, he made sure to whip his katana out to deal immediate destruction to one of the now-zombies that he passed. Unfortunately the only way he knew to deal with the creatures was that of complete dismemberment. A torso could still come after you, but not after the limbs and head were missing. The razor-keen blade whistled from its sheath at his hip to tear through the undead from hip to just under the shoulder and through its arm, severing it in half and removing a limb. As the strike finished he reached across and pulled out the wakizashi to fly up and through the thing's neck to behead it before it had fallen. He continued moving forward to the woman as if without interruption, coming up toward her from the front. "Koralle?" |
 Inventory MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM CARTER!111  Bolt of Flame - This spell produces a vertical column of fire roaring downward at a target of your choice. | |
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| Koralle | Nov 9 2008, 11:07 PM Post #11 |
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More than carbon and chemicals.
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Koralle, wanted to run, that's all there was to it. Her courage dwindled the moment dead people, still bloodied and warm, began to rise from the ground. She felt ill, this was the first time she had witnessed so much bloodshed and her heart was sickened by the fact that, these, these were not the only ones of their kind. All over Avalon people stole lives and families and worst. She'd seen it first hand one too many times. This of course was what led her to have been traveling into foreign lands with a caravan. Making her way through the main land and to it farthermost, darkest reaches. However ... if she let herself be taken down by these dead thugs her quest would be over before it begun. If she wished to follow in the path of her own heritage, she'd have to learn to survive first. The rusted blade of the bandit was brought crashing down at her, blocked successfully by the katana. But the undead's moves were sloppy and ill executed, as he had no more rational thought to begin with. While she could not compare in strength, she could only hope her wits would be enough. Wits, which she was nearly scared out of as another voice echoed over the camp. To her surprise, though she really should not be surprised any more, another one of the bandits had canceled out his alliance with the band. Whether this was to her benefit or not was yet to be determined, but at least it was one less brigand to worry about and one more to help her get rid of the undead. Unless he ran away, which wouldn't help her by much. She had another problem as well. Koralle ... had no real idea of how to dispose of a necromancer's pawns. While her blade was razor sharp, her strength was not enough to enable her to tear the man apart piece by piece. She hadn't even killed him in such a way. And to use the spell again ... it would mean getting closer to the dead man than she wanted to. Their blades were locked, as she stepped back to brace her weight on one foot. Finally however, as a heel kicked up dirt, she gathered up her strength and gave the zombie a harsh shove back. He, or it rather, took a shuffling stumble back, before bringing his sword to swipe at her. Koralle barely had time to step back and evade it, when another reappeared to her right. Very nearly she panicked, and though she could not calm herself as such, the idea of becoming a zombie's supper was enough to clear her head ... for the time being. She took a breath, in what little time she had. They attacked. Luthien caught the faceless one's rusted blade, as she turned to bring her opposite hand about. A word was spoke beneath her breath, as her second attacker was taken out by the same magics which had reduced the swordsman's face to mush. Even dead he clutched at the bloody hole in its chest, while Koralle shoved the other back again. This round she gave him no time to recover, sending the rusted sword flung from its grasp. Bringing her own blade to catch the exsanguinated by its grasping palm she removed said appendage in one harsh slash. She stared at the undead as it in return stared dumbly at its own missing limb. Shaking herself free of the shock she almost regretfully plunged her blade into its throat. Again her clothes were splashed with blood, though no doubt could have been worse if the thing wasn't dead anymore. Things. That is what she would have to consider these from now on. If she kept thinking of them as men still she'd not have what it took to save herself, let alone any stragglers left behind from the caravan's captured. So she couldn't look back now could she? Not if she wanted to survive. No, she would not turn out like them, she would not die here and be turned into ... into ... one of those things. With this resolution in mind she started forward, while Koralle was not the most socially inclined people she could get over that for once just to get closer to whatever allies she may have out here. Instead however there was a much more unexpected ally having arrived at the scene. While she knew nothing at first glance other than it was a man with a katana tearing down more undead, (which was pretty much all she cared about at that point), it became quickly apparent that maybe ... maybe she'd gained a spot of luck after all. It wasn't until she heard her own name called that she recognized him however, it was hard to find anything familiar whilst in battle against undead, after all. Meeting him halfway she came to an uneasy halt before glancing over her shoulder. "Jade! Don't ... ask. I don't know where to start." |
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| Kaono | Nov 10 2008, 05:43 AM Post #12 |
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The Stormbringer
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Carnage, utter and brutal carnage. That’s what one could describe the scene right now, and Skaren, was smack dab in the middle of it. Zombies numbering far more then there should be. It was as if there weren’t just the bandits that had been raised from their shallow graves but even come of those in the caravan that had been attacked. The youth didn’t like it… he didn’t like that someone could awaken the dead in such a manner. The dead died for a reason, they had gained that eternal peace one way or another… threw evil deeds or good ones. No mage had the right to raise them in such a manner, to become fodder for a blade in death, something that they should have transcended the moment they took their last breath. Steel flashed again, Skaren’s movements blurred the line of combat and dance. It was primal, but it had a semblance of skill to it normally not seen in warriors of his clan. His hands and arms flowed with his blades, connections as if the edged steel were his own arms to begin with. And with effortless strokes, did he take down his former employees as well as any who happen to die with their innocence intact. They weren’t human anymore, undead risen from their sleep for no purpose, they had no reason to live again… and to the youth, it felt an honor to put them under once more. To give these’s souls rest… the harbinger was honor bound to do such. Silent Pain let out a whisper as one, the longer blade found its target as it pierced the chest of a zombie just before him. The grip on the handle switched, reverse now, Skaren store it from the zombie with a sweeping motion. A chunk of its torso missing the zombie began to stumble backwards. With the momentum of the sweeping motion, the shorter dagger of the combo shot forward slamming into the skull of the slowly rotting flesh easily only to find a boot crushing the chest of it seconds later from a wide snap kick, causing the torso to remove itself from its legs. And without hesitation, without loss of movement, Skaren dashed forward freeing the dagger from the skull of the second fallen. Into the thick of things was his aim, so Skaren moved with as much speed as his legs would carry. Sweeping his longsword back and forth in all directions aiming to remove limbs and weakling the already rotting structure of the zombies, the youth was no fool and he knew that he couldn’t take the hoard by himself. But what he was doing… was to make thing easier for later… there was apparently two others in the area, supposed friends as they weren’t rotting or attacking him. With their numbers, and pre weakened zombies… with 3 back to back… they could cut their way out and escape if push come to shove. “If you live, Answer!.” Skaren roared over the constant moaning of undead and the sound of steel crushing flesh and bone. |
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"Come... Show me what your kind calls fury."-Kaono "If your blade is drawn... then cut."-Kaono }|{Description}|{}|{Theme Song}|{}|{Inventory}|{ PhantomInventory | |
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| Jade Lorien | Nov 12 2008, 09:56 AM Post #13 |
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The Ronin
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The swordsman stood smack in the middle of the carnage, a bit incredulous at the chance meeting that fortune had just bestowed upon him. He hadn't seen Koralle in... a long time. She it had been who had pointed him in the direction of a smith capable of forging weapons that would pair well with his ancestral katana, both in style and in quality. That had been a fortuitous meeting, both for the items in question that he had obtained and for the chance to add another ally to his short list. At the time he had been fairly fresh in Avalon, so it was nice to meet someone that wasn't out to kill him for once. And it was nice again to have a reminder of his (admittedly not long gone) past in Avalon. "It's been a while." He spoke the words just before whipping his blade out to the side to cut down one of the undead in its tracks. Had it been a sentient enemy, it would have been seen as a wise tactic to take advantage of a lull in the enemy's attention because they took a moment to talk. As it stood though, it was quite obvious that it had not been a calculated plan of any sort. It just happened to be a good time for the mindless undead to attempt a strike. A good time that had still failed, of course. The ronin had been in enough fights to be aware of his surroundings at all times, even if slightly distracted by strange and random happenings. The spellsword (for that is what he could truly be called at this point, due to his growth since his time spent in Avalon) turned away from Koralle, allowing his back to face her in order to be able to defend the other side better. He knew the woman had some issues with combat in general from their previous meeting and journey, but she seemed a little bit better about it now. As much better as one could be while surrounded by undead, anyway. He felt confident enough that even though she looked uneasy fighting, she would be able to keep something from hitting him from behind. Worst to worst though, her presence behind him would enable him to know something was coming and he could turn to deal with the problem. At the shout that came from the other side of the melee, Jade flipped his head to the side where it came from. Clear words could only mean that there was another person alive and fighting. And since they were alive, that made them enough of an ally for the time being for him to make a bellow in return. "Here! Two alive! Fight to the edge, we'll meet you there!" Jade made an off-hand slash at another zombie that had gotten too close for safety, beheading it with the wakizashi before bringing a powerful blow down through its torso that dropped it in its tracks instantly. Immediately afterward he turned his head to Koralle and gave a quick order, spoken as one that had grown accustomed to command (despite the current lack of a position requiring it). "I'll lead, you watch my back. Let's go." Without waiting for a response, the swordmaster turned and made his way to the edge of the fray, choosing a point roughly equidistant between them and where he guessed the stranger to be. He whipped his katana from left to right in an arc and blasted a wave of purple energy at the advancing group and pressed forward as they fell back. |
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Inventory MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM CARTER!111 Bolt of Flame - This spell produces a vertical column of fire roaring downward at a target of your choice. | |
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| Koralle | Nov 13 2008, 05:20 PM Post #14 |
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More than carbon and chemicals.
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For a brief moment, she wondered what had happened to the two men she had fought alongside previous to Jade and the other stranger's appearance. The first thief was no longer laying unconscious in the dirt, and the warrior with the axes was no where to be seen. Koralle could only hope the poor souls had gone with the escaping caravaners. If not ... well she might have more of the slain to fight. Uncomfortable with their surroundings for obvious reasoning (Koralle was no warrior by trade, after all), her gaze would never still as long as there were undead about. "Y-yeah." How long had it been? Koralle really didn't know anymore. A lot had happened, war, plague, she'd found her brother only to lose him again. Nearly got ate by a dragon which lead to being rescued by an unlikely source, which then lead her to this. But that was a story to be told later, over camp fire and no more zombies, preferably. Koralle flinched at the appearance of another undead. Though it was quickly disposed of, it seemed there would never be an end to the things. During a brief lull in the undead assault, Koralle briefly wished the hellhound was here. He would have taken out a fair share of the undead. However due to her having traveled with the caravan, and the hound's arcane nature being oftentimes frightful to those who didn't know him, Koralle had sent the hound on ahead. Such thoughts were a moot point now, as she got the hint and turned about to sever the neck of a previously thought disposed of necromancer tool. "How do they keep standing?" She asked herself, the question more rhetorical than anything. With its head tilted oddly at one side due to her blade becoming lodged in bone, she gave a tug at her sword's hilt, causing the corpse to fall to the dirt. Where it belonged. Koralle nearly leapt out of her skin at the unexpected voice ringing out over the clearing. Startled only for a moment as she recognized the voice as human, Koralle turned in the caller's direction. "Here!" Regardless of the redundancy of her response, she brought her blade in an over head strike to clean another arm from a torso. When the cadaver simply reached for her with the other, she detached that limb too. Awkwardly she cut through its chest, and as the monstrosity stumbled back from the blow she glanced over her shoulder at her friend. The command was not questioned, Koralle was just glad enough that someone had an idea of what to do. She followed. While Jade took care of the majority of the forces, Koralle would pick up the stragglers with a passing slash of her own blade or a not so expertly tossed missile spell. At long last they had arrived at the edge of the battlefield. The path cleared at their backs would not remain so for long, but for now it seemed they'd at least made a dent in the forces. Not the assertive one in this situation, she awaited one of the others to give further suggestions as to how they may all avoid becoming supper. |
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| Kaono | Nov 14 2008, 05:37 AM Post #15 |
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The Stormbringer
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Voices rang out in a multitude of sounds, most of which were moaning and groaning. The sound of the dead, dying or undead and it was these voices that the youth ignored. The chances of surviving with a half dead person were slim, if they had a chance at all. So it was again backwards he pressed, aiming to head back the way he came seeing as he was the only one left… or was he? As Skaren took his first step back and relieving another rotting corpse of hits torso with a swift slash from his longsword, voices, two of them entered the air, overwhelming if slightly the sounds of moans and groans. One was a male’s voice, confident with the ability to lead… good, the other sounded a little shaken, but even still the will to live was a strong thing and if she had survived on her own power until now she wouldn’t be a hindrance later. Following the instructions of the male voice, Skaren moved forward threw the mass of zombies, well placed sword strokes and dagger thrusts constantly clearing his path. Like a flowing river the youth moved in and out of the crowed, attacking with every free moment he had. A completely different style of combat from what most are used to seeing in the Vakati tribe… Longsword slashing swiftly from the left and right, as the boy moved forward, a sea of re-dismembered corpses flowed in his wake, and it wouldn’t take much longer before he finally found himself in the company of the two other survivors. In the end… that’s all this was wasn’t it? A game of survival… and who could swing their steel the longest. Steel flashed once more, Skaren stepped into a strike, the longsword cutting from one of the zombies groin upwards, literally splitting him in two. Again Skaren stepped, unafraid of what stood before him and utter confidence in his skills, His dagger sprang in the fist of his left hand, finding its home directly in one of the zombies throats, his longsword appeared a second later, striking threw the midsection, severing the spinal chord with little effort. Ripping it free from his right side, seconds later his shoulder barreled threw the severed chest removing the zombie from his path. Nearing the two he was, and it was time for him to spout orders of his own. Steel flashed once more and more body parts flew into the air, signaling that he was near. “Move! I’ll take rear guard!” Seconds later, the black mane youth appeared from the sea of rotting flesh, steel covered on gore as was his frame. And yet, from fighting all the way threw them, he didn’t seem breathless at all. Endurance, one of if not his main pride and joy, and if almost on queue Skaren took his job up as rear guard, placing himself between the two and the undead. Steel whirling about in defense rather than offense, a wall of steel that would shred anything that came near it, yet never attack out on its own, something the boy learned from the Icefall Guard… never give ground so long as he stood. |
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"Come... Show me what your kind calls fury."-Kaono "If your blade is drawn... then cut."-Kaono }|{Description}|{}|{Theme Song}|{}|{Inventory}|{ PhantomInventory | |
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4:18 AM Mar 20
