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 Posted: Sun Oct 23, 2011 12:36 pm
 It doesn't matter how long we may have been stuck in a sense of our limitations... Everyone else's words was about the same as trying to listen to important directions from someone, while your head was being dunked underwater. Muffled and totally incomprehensible. Jude snapped his fingers in front of her, after blinking a few times, her clouded eyes became focused once again. The cleric who had graciously agreed to accompany her, was just stuck here along with her confusion. Calm, he was calm. Why did everyone seem to be caught up but her? The man gently turned her to face her Summon. The look they gave each other, amber eyes meeting copper ones. For once, his smile looked slightly weaker than the past examples. Anguish. Tenderness. Concern. Care. Fear. Hope. Grief....Love. Yes, she was willing to admit it, love. But, she was sure, that she wasn't the only one to ever experience heartbreak. To have your loved ones disappear from sight in the blink of an eye. Of course he was special to her. She tore her gaze away.
A bright white light appeared above her head, and emerging from it, a snowy white feather that drifted gracefully towards them. Though, you could say it's pattern was a tad more than just unusual, fluttering this way and that. Finally with her signature giggle, her tiny figure materialized. Sayuri was about to shrug at the man's question when Luka did her the fvour of answering for her. Even only knowing the small girl for less than a day, you could already tell the girl was not shy in the slightest. She twirled around, the man, scolding him, and probably knowingly showered him in her dust. Sayuri smiled softly at the spirited girl defending her. If anything, that optimistic attitude could brighten any atmosphere. Sayuri tapped her shoulder, signaling a possible landing spot if she wanted to. Not like the space was being used anyways. She couldn't say she approved of everything, but, good intentions did count.
The man introduced himself as Eldrich Von Mundhar, thanks to Luka's...peer pressure? He stood up, a serious expression on his face. She knew he never meant any harm, he was still a little intimidating. He turned and pulled an aged book off the shelf. It didn't even look like he needed to put any thought into it. She watched Eldrich turn through the yellowed pages of the book, when he found what he wanted, he almost tossed the open book to her. Her hands lilted under the surprising weight, before adjusting to it. Sayuri gazed at the mix of intricate yet, unfamiliar symbols. As Eldrich started to explain, Itsuki leaned over her shoulder with obvious interest. She was holding, a huge piece of history, a book passed from Summoner to Summoner. And imagining the difficult task of having to write about hers. Well, let's not think too far ahead. Born from her spirit. Even after death, he would've always been with her because when you've finally found that one person, you give a piece of your spirit to them, and they to you. The man directed her over to the window, where he pointed out a shining light. It was dazzling in beauty, but the air felt heavy. At last, He said the words "The Summoner of Light." Looking her in the eyes. Ghar Uri-ghan? The long abandoned city? No no no, of all the places you wouldn't want to find yourself...that was the setting where people liked to use for horror stories. The place where the phrase "And they were never seen again" was used all to much. And now, she was the person who was supposed to go there in order to save Ivila? Itsuki examined the symbols and designs as Sayuri gingerly flipped through the fragile looking pages. He wondered idly what she would say about him when the time came. Eldrich continued his explanation by moving the girl towards the window. He pointed at a bright light. Yes, it wasn't simply a star. He looked at his charge's panic-stricken expression. Almost as if the pressure of the task was literally weighting down her shoulders. He strolled forward, giving her a gentle bop on the head with a closed fist. For such a seemingly grounded person, she did have a tendency to stick her head in the clouds and over think. "Perhaps, that's enough for tonight." He said quietly, more towards Eldrich than Sayuri. "A little time to soak it in. It's late anyhow."...No one is in control of your happiness but you; so you have no one to blame but yourself O.O.C 【】
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Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2011 11:16 pm
 The priest took a few books of interest from the book shelf and sat down in a chair near the fireplace. Although there was no fire burning, that could easily be fixed, and it by no means deterred him from sitting there. He opened the first book, which detailed the oldest form of dealing with the common dark, the Binder. He took out his journal and began taking notes.
The Binder, surprisingly, implemented many of his own methods for dealing with the dark, though they had special birth conditions which he lacked. They could talk, sense, and communicate with benign spirits. Lutje could only deal with the pernicious. They could also do many other things, but they kept well away from the church, surprisingly. The two seemed to have a deep dislike of each other. The church would not allow them on hallowed ground because they were too close to evil, and the Binder's simply kept well away, content with their own methods.
Binders used staffs of Rowan wood, the same kind he desired, with a silver allow blade attached and used iron and salt to bleed away dark powers. Like himself, they used chains of silver to bind malevolent witches and the like. They also practiced fighting with their staffs. He found nothing new after that, and the other books turned to be of little help. His notes complete, he closed the books and put them back on the shelf.
He caught the tail end of the summoner group conversation, slipping his journal into his bag. Everything he was going to say was said by Itsuki, which he expected would happen often. In all honesty, he was fine with that; he never was much of a talker in the first place. Itsuki was anoften-present Esper from what the young priest could gather, and therefore, would be doing most of the talking.
"You should sleep for tomorrow," he said, placing his bag on the chair. "It's late."
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Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 9:35 am
He was the sort of person who stood on mountaintops during thunderstorms in wet copper armour, shouting,"All the Gods are bastards!" Jagger Green ╔══════════════╗
Located: Alexandria Jail Cell with Kiera
Injuries: Few nearly-healed scratches
Desires: Freedom
╚══════════════╝ 
Jagger smiled cheekily. ”Ha! Well, that works too.” He remarked with humor as he carefully slipped through the entry way still scorched by fire and burning with a luminescent orange glow at the edges. A slight burnt metal pole tore yet another hole through his slacks as he crossed over and then assisted Kiera through, of course, if she had accepted his hand anyway.
He wasn’t quite sure how to console Kiera, or if he even should, with the dismissal of Ashe. He could only promote the gesture of humor as he continued on. ”Sure wish she coulda done that before we got all the way done here though.” But nothing he could say would be able to change that fact. Instead, he ushered for the short dame to follow him as he proceeded to trot through the dungeon corridors as nimble as an hare, and as quiet as a snake, pausing every so often to crouch down low around a corner before peeking through and then permeating through the darkness with a hasty run, but never too fast or too far for Kiera.
Droplets of dew clung to the stone walls of the fortress that Jagger had spent more time in then he would have liked, but how was he supposed to know that wild boars and stags were specifically protected against hunting to everyone except for the king and noblemen himself. And how in the seven hells could he have ever assumed that he had been mocking one of the very grand councilman himself at the sight of his treasonous acts against a bloody flipping pig. Truly, he should have stuffed and roasted the councilman when he had had the chance.
Sweeping low to the ground, Jagger rounded a spiral staircase leading down further into the dungeons that would surely lead him to the catacombs of the kingdom which had once been flooded during a dreadful storm and the toll taken upon the sewers were heavy, which would make their escape all the more easier. That is until, of course, Jagger had heard a sour chord of words flitting past the lips of an unknown man. Jagger froze after he had indicated Kiera to remain in silence, his crouched position near the end of the hall was ready to attack the legs of anyone foolish enough to come tumbling down his way. Chances were that he’d only be able to stun them, but even that would be enough for him to snatch their weapon from its sheath without it being noticed.
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Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2011 2:07 pm
Severan was locked away in the Magistrates tower, pawing over paper work by candlelight at his desk. The continued grievances caused by the demented Alute, a constant distraction on his mind. For what purpose would he imprision the princess; what devilry would soon be wrought due to the increasing madness? He remained soaked in thought for the moment, but it wouldn't last much longer; the time for action was nearing, and the window of oppourtunity to stop him was closing.*--------------------*--------------------* [...two days earlier; Night One]
Mundhar glanced back at the frightened girl before him, remembering to show a little more social tact when it came to children; he was already at a loss to most human interaction anyhow, due to his solitary lifestyle, but the fact that he may be overwhelming the poor girl was not lost on him. At Itsuki's suggest, Mundhar gently retrieved his book, and replaced it on the shelf.
"You'll have to forgive me young one..." He said; though at this point it would've been difficult to tell if he were referring to Sayuri or Itsuki. "I've dreamed I might see this day with my own eyes; hope reawakened in my lifetime... Alas, that these days should come so late..."
It might've been coincidence that he used Mahrian's words almost exactly, but in truth it he was a kindred spirit to the old woman. He too dreamed of a day that dedicated summoners would rise against the evil at work; he dreamed of Goliath's reawakening just as Mahrian did. Not for the destruction and pain it would bring, but for the chance to right the wrongs himself... He was too late; too old, but Sayuri was not. She could fight, despite herself, and he would do what he could to bring her destiny to light.
"You'll have my room tonight, child..." He offered before disappearing inside, to retrieve the deer carcass. He took a few minutes to exit the cabin, in order to stow the animal in his cellar and return to his guests. He glanced at Itsuki, then back to Sayuri. "You should really banish him to the Feymarche to rest; There's is a realm like no other, that he was born to experience. Would be a shame to keep him bottled up in this tangible form."
Luka seemed to glance at Sayuri and Itsuki's reaction to the suggestion; she loved her home-realm. It was a feeling like no other, exsisting in a plane of non-existence; there, you were one with the nature of the world and not the physical bond to it. Your perceptions strengthened and powers revitalized. The Feymarche was a summon's home, whether they'd bonds to the mortal realm or not. Luka yawned; not really tired, but wanting to exaggerate the purpose of both hers and Itsuki's banishment. Everyone needed rest from time to time.
Mundhar then looked to Jude, before offering him the couch; The man was adament on taking watch over the cabin. As soon as they were settled, he'd be prepared to face a sleepless night that was sure to bring darkness to his door; he would stand watch and fight the remnants, so that Sayuri and her Esper could rest. It was certain to be a bloody struggle, but the man was almost relishing in the oppourtunity to fight; the chance to make himself a champion for what he'd believed in all his life.-------------------------------_╕╝α'{ Kiera Malkhar }'α╝╕_-------------------------------
[ Present Day ]  Kiera accepted Jagger's hand with a smile, releasing an indulgant chuckle in response to his play at humor. It was her fault that Ashe hadn't been allowed to free them from their captors; she had, in fact, offered to make short work of their assailants at the gate, but Kiera's compassion got the better of her... She'd have rather been taken than to hurt the faceless few she wasn't sure deserved hellfire's demise. Even now, she wouldn't have been willing to sacrafice an innocent for her survival or Jagger's. That means was simply injustifiable to the desired ends. No, this way was better.
"I wouldn't let her.." She relpied before beginning to follow Jagger out of the all too poorly gaurded cell block; for whatever reason, Lysos' request to have them detained was not a high priority; they'd been given cells, but their keeping was left to none, as matters elsewhere seemed to be taking precedence. "I just couldn't make myself believe those soldiers deserved death; I didn't know them and they didn't know us. Who am I to say they should die?"
She left it at that, as she made to silence herself in Jagger's trail. She found herself almost clinging to the man as they moved; she could feel the warmth coming off his body, and it filled her with a sort of familiar comfort, similar to Ashe's presence. Kiera found herself enthralled by his direction and confidence. She followed in toe, as they decended the spiral stair, leading into more dark, stagnant, and fridgid air, only increasing the way Kiera seemed drawn to Jagger, but released a barely audible gasp when she heard voices. The hot, orange glow of a torch threatening them with approaching light around the corner. Jagger seemed to gesture for her silence as he readied for an attack, but Kiera reached out and took his hand before he moved away to ready his ambush.
"Please, don't hurt him..." She plead in a whisper before letting him go, to stage his attack. She dropped to her knees, feeling anxious as the torches light continued to flitter, and the shadow of a lone man began to cast a silouette on the wall opposite the light.
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Posted: Sat Oct 29, 2011 8:50 pm
It doesn't matter how long we may have been stuck in a sense of our limitations... A thin memory layered on top of Sayuri's sight. "...alas that these days should come so late." It was..just like..Mahrian. Wasn't it? She blinked away the feeling of déja vu. The man offered her his room for the night, she wanted to protest putting him out. She could sleep on the floor or something. She knew she was probably the weakest link of them all here, but still, she wasn't like pristine glass either. Itsuki shook his head at her. Her eyes fled to the ground. A non-arguable topic, she supposed. Itsuki gestured to the door of the room. Sayuri looked at Jude, the quiet cleric and wished him good night. As he began to lead her inside, Mundar added on the advice of banishing.
"You didn't tell me--""You didn't ask." Itsuki interrupted, "I'll be fine." He added gently.That was a blatant lie. Even someone like her could notice the weariness beneath the thin veneer. She sighed.
"Luka, I'm sorry for bothering you. You did a great job. Rest up okay?" Released.
She turned to her Esper. "And you," She said, trying to sound stern, though it wasn't really the greatest attempt. "Please be honest with me from now on. Go back to Feymarche. I'm a big girl, you don't have to worry so much."
A slight look of surprise reached his face, but he nodded gratefully at her act. There were both tried, it had been a long day. He took a step back, his figure beginning to haze with a soft blue glow. "Stay strong, Sayuri." He tilted his head and smiled. And he was gone.
She stood there, staring at the empty space. Feeling a little...regretful? Mm..That wasn't it. She shook the feeling away as she pulled her worn limbs under the covers of the bed. She was frightened. Scared. It all felt so surreal. Like she had been pulled into a storybook that she didn't want to be apart of. The titles of so many legends in which the merciless claws of death reaches the courageous hero before the could save the day. But maybe it wasn't even death that she worried about. It was about letting everyone else down. She wasn't brave. Or strong. She pressed her forehead against the pillow tightly. But...she couldn't always rely on the ones around her to be strong for her. And with her mind full of thoughts on what was to come, she drifted off to sleep. ...To make something special you just have to believe it is... O.O.C 【】
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 2:51 pm
The young priest nodded as Sayuri wished him good night. He had no intention of going to sleep just yet. He had to document the days events. What he saw, learned, and experienced would no doubt be important to predecessors in the future.
He sat down on the couch, opening his bag and pulling out his journal. He began writing the events of the day, finishing with his own individual thoughts.
I'm worried for the journey ahead of us. We're poorly outfitted. We're a child and a priest. We have hardly any combat expertise; what little we do have falls under my powers. Which is little, and ill practiced. I know Luka is capable of combat, how much is unknown to me though. If she can replicate her past doings, at least Sayuri would be well protected; I doubt she could cover both of us if we were surrounded.
Tonight, I plan to combine all of my powers as a priest to erect a kind of fail safe for my companion. Should things go wrong, it should save her. Whether it heals a mortal wound, erects a barrier, or simply helps her get lucky for a time, it should keep her safe from whatever goes wrong. I hope.
Lutje - First Day.
The young priest closed his journal, placing it inside of his bags along with his other things. He sat down in front of the couch, crossing his legs while chanting a holy spell. The chanting sounded like a sound one single human could not make: an entire choir singing in perfect harmony with the volume of his own quiet voice. He moved his arms in an intricate pattern, shining lines of light trailing off the tips of his fingers. This process repeated many times over until the lines had formed complex array of holy symbols aligned themselves in a complete sphere around the priest. He clasped his hands together, the complex seals and lines arranging themselves into many horizontal rows of magic around him. They shattered simultaneously, and the spell was done.
The priest lumbered to the couch and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. He had never combined his spells before. From what he could tell, it had yielded successful results.
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Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2011 5:42 pm
He was the sort of person who stood on mountaintops during thunderstorms in wet copper armour, shouting,"All the Gods are bastards!" Jagger Green ╔══════════════╗
Located: Alexandria Jail Cell with Kiera
Injuries: Few nearly-healed scratches
Desires: Freedom
╚══════════════╝
Jagger, of course, should not have been at all taken aback by Kiera’s light of heart, she is a woman after all, and if anything could be said about a woman, it’s their hearts. He be damned, he realized, if he had been cursed with the conscience of a living heart. His own had sat wretched and decayed at his core, nevermore pure as since birth, but never quite so malevolent as the forces at work. He carried himself on a thin stretch of shadowed grays in a world of black and white, where nothing is as it was but everything is as it appeared to be. ”Well,” he mused with a pause, never allowing his attention to drift farther than it need be. ”Didn’ ‘ave to hurt anyone, maybe scare ‘em off a bit, y’know?”
But Jagger truly hadn’t been concerned with the events that had lead them here, he was much too preoccupied with their own lives that hung on the brink of extinction with the twists and turns that life seemed to hurl down upon them like hail. So, he hadn’t bothered to quip up with another reply to her moral cause. He truly didn’t care, but if it would suit her, he rather begrudgingly agree than to trouble himself with a barrage of words. If anything, he preferred to avoid confrontation, especially one that couldn’t be solved through means of violence. So he continued on with the grace of a feline, crept low to the ground with nimble limbs ready to pounce any which way need be.
And then those whispers reached his ear, no words could be distinguished beneath his beating heart like the drums of war. And just before he was ready to strike, Kiera had held him back. A spurt of irritation shined on eyes of golden retribution as he hurled his face around to target the one who held him, but his face had softened and he even uttered a sigh of reluctance, which, to him, meant that he would try.
Footsteps echoed around him, and the flickering visage of a man bounced off of the castle walls whimsically, as though to say he’ll never be caught. But Jagger waited around the corner and the steps grew louder and louder with each passing moment, willing nerves of steel to focus at the ready. And then he lurched quick as fire, an elbow had collided into the back of the guards knee, hurling the overgrown brute to the floor with immense force and surprise, another second had been taken to provide a second blow with his elbow into the sensitive cavity in the back of the thick skull that rocketed down to the floor with increasingly alarming speed. With the force of gravity at hand, the burly man had been knocked out cold before ever even grasping the concept of his demise. Jagger paused to search the man for what he had, a light coin purse and dirk, but no keys. ”…should we keep going?” He wondered as he rose to his full height several inches shy of the six foot. ”Or should we hide him first?”
And then it had dawned on him, his belongings, he couldn't leave without them! His father's sword, his hunting cutlery, and his spices! Oh, lords! They stole his spices! How in seven blazing hells was he supposed to eat without his spices! The damned thieves! The irrational thought to pummel the guard with his own dirk had flashed in his mind that instant.
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Posted: Fri Nov 18, 2011 4:59 pm
 Daphne "Nightshade" Irluna
Nightshade had done her homework. She knew exactly where Magistrate Severan would be this night. He had a routine, one that was easy to track. She knew he would be in the Magistrate's Tower, sitting at his desk, trying to figure out the world, or something like that. There would be a massive political impact once he was dead. For better or for worse, she didn't really care. As long as there was disruption and corruption to slowly tear this kingdom apart.
Though the grounds were large, it didn't take long for her to reach the tower where her prey was, unaware of the danger he was now in. then again, man in his position always had to be aware of the threats all around him. Someone would always want him dead. And tonight, Death was finally coming to him. Nightshade ran through the details of the tower in her head, reviewing the number of guards, and the approximate placement of them. The entrance to the tower was guarded by two guards, who were replaced every hour. Just inside the entrance were two more guards, there for reinforcements just in case the two outside were overpowered. The stairs itself only had one guard along them, in the halfway point, where a window had been built in. Two more guards stood watch at the two doors at the top of the tower.
It was time to play. She took out four poisoned darts, and swiftly threw that at both the guards. Two darts hit the guard closest to her, one in the throat, and one in the eye. The other guard had only a second to see his partner fall, before the last two darts penetrated his flesh, both in the neck. Stepping into sight, she strolled over to the two men, who were twitching as the poison spread through their bodies, consuming their life force. Before she reached the door, the two guards from inside burst out, their swords drawn. She drew her own katana, and attacked. The two guards were good fighters, but for all their strength, Nightshade's agility was far superior. They were both bulky and slow, which made it easy for slip around their attacks. In minutes she had downed one man, with a stab in the throat, and the other was breathing heavily. She smirked as he jumped at her, easily sidestepping him, and tripping him as he passed. She took off his head without a second thought. The door was now free, and she flew up the stairs, her flight one deterred by the guard posted at the window. Once at the top, it took little time to dispose of the guards at the top.
The door to Severan's office was locked, but it took little time to pick the lock. She opened the door, and stepped in, lowering her hood. Her white hair made her look almost ghostly in the candlelight, a stark contrast to the black she wore. Seeing the magistrate sitting at his desk, his attention all but caught by her, she smiled wickedly, saying in a hiss, "The underworld awaits, my dear Magistrate Severan."
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Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2011 4:39 pm
[...two days earlier; Night One]
The sounds would send chills through even the most steadfast of heroes. The forest was alive with a chorus of garlged howls and screechy barks. Teaming eyes glowed in the surrounding darkness, as a blanket of stars set in motion within the trees. The threatening pack maintained their distance from the cabin, but taunted relentlessly from the borders of their cover. Eldrich Von Mundhar stood, crossbow in hand, on the deck of his cabin. He peered out at the eyes that mimicked the sky with unflinching presence, his eye's burning like the torch flame burning adamantly against the swirling winds.
"Umbra Duos,.." He said calmly, raising his crossbow. "...Igneus Geilah."
Without delay, two wisps of black smoke vaporated on both sides of him, before materializing into his aged bloodhounds. They glanced at each other with stoney glances before sitting beside their master and aiming their regal stare forward in unison; their eyes were flooded entirely with milky white, bright as moonlight.
"Canes, Venati. Now is not the time for such formality. There is work to be done." Mundhar said plainly as they arrived; a swarm of decrepid bats hellbent towards the cabin. The two dogs, took to their feet in a flash before releasing a bellowful and raspy howl that resounded back at the approaching darkness. The echo persisted for a moment as the dogs vanished in a wisp of dark smoke. Mundhar simply took a deep breath as he watched the bats approach. This would be his first time seeing the power his pets truly held; stories and legend only did so much when you hear a call from beings such as these. The burly woodsman welcomed the darkness with open arms, but would not recieve its furious shadow.
Several feet ahead of Mundhar, two wide fields of smoke seemed to emerge in twisted, spiraling wisps from the ground, the smoke dispersing and billowing as more smoke arrived. A doubled howl, that carried a more wolven quality, resounded in an echo as the smoke now seemed to fall away as dark mist, gently carressing the forms of two figures. Both the smoke laced creatures lunged forward a bit as they both released a fearsome roar, far beyond what a dog would be capable. Immediately, the approaching swarm of bats turned to ash and swept away from the force of the shout. The smoke surrounding the animals pushed away abruptly as if pushed by a strong wind, revealing the large creatures for what they were. Two fearsome canines, of an unknown species and at least three times as large as a bloodhound. They we're shealthed in ancient black armor and their eyes glowed a different color; Canus', red, and Venati's, blue. The pair aimed their glowing gazes at their master who responded only with a smirk and a nod. The dogs passed a glance towards each as they looked back upon the creatures waiting in the wind and with a snap the two bounded towards the forest and disappeared into the brush, where soon the subtle sound of carnal battle was permeating through the overgrowth.... [...the day before]
By morning, Mundhar and his dogs had endured the neverending hordes long enough to taste the morning light that finally drove them away, and by the time any would wake, they would find the trio at Mundhar's chair aimed at the fireplace's warmth, the old man puffing on his pipe. Beyond being very still, they seemed no worse for wear after the night long skirmish. There was food; cutlets of venison and strip bacon searing in a pan on the pit, boiled-eggs cooling in a water-pot, a loaf of bread baked the day before, sliced and set aside. There was plenty to drink, juices, milk; more than enough for any and all of his guests to eat their fill.-------------------------------_╕╝α'{ Kiera Malkhar }'α╝╕_-------------------------------
[ Present Day ] Kiera watched anxiously as Jagger proceeded incapacitate the approaching gaurd. There was something very menacing about the way Jagger fought. He was exacting and ruthless, and seemed to enjoy himself. She released a sigh of relief at having been indulged in her request to show restraint, before stepping out from behind her cover and rejoining Jagger.
"Just one gaurd?" Keira asked as she glanced around. It wasn't as if she'd spent much time in Alexandria's dungeons, but knew something was wrong. Kiera knew no reason for either of them to be a high security priority, but still the ease of their escape suggested that there were problems elsewhere. She thought about covering her tracks for a moment, but felt uneasy remaining there any longer. All she wanted to do was get out of this fortress and away from this accursed city... while she had the chance.
"Let's just get out of here. Didn't you say there was a way down to the catacombs somewhere around here?"
It was Ghar-Urighan or bust from this point on; coming to Alexandria had been a mistake. The first pale truth to crash her mythical misconception. Alexandria may have once been a Holy City, a shining beacon and sanctuary for man and summoner alike, but no longer. The beacon that shined here was a vicious vortex that swallowed you whole and threatened to devour your very soul.
[Meanwhile]
Severan stood from his desk before walking slowly from behind his desk.
"My, my. Your ilk never learns..." He extended an arm and in a swirl of darkened, smokey essence emanating from his hand, a black sword appeared in his hand. "It seems more than a few are up in arms about my successes lately. -- Are you sure you want to do this, Witch?"
His free hand then became enveloped in the same dark viscus mist that dripped to the floor in globs. The ground reacted on contact as small decrepit insects that seemed to materialize out of the floorboards that had been splashed with the dark mist, fled to darkness immediately after spawning, making it seem as if the mist itself took a life of it's own after leaving his hand. ~-~-~-~-~-~-~
((OOC: Defining the context of Witch in this mythos: One possessing physical anomalies, typically genetic traits, that the common ignorance views as other-worldly, particularly with Upper-class Alexandrians. In this case, it is her albinism that defines her as a Witch.))
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Posted: Tue Nov 22, 2011 3:08 pm
Daphne "Nightshade" Irluna
"Witch?" Nightshade let out a laugh, almost a scoff. "Ha! Is that the best you can come up with?" She watched with no interest, as dark magic started forming. Magic wasn't uncommon. She'd come across it rarely in her escapades, but it did appear now and again. She raised an eyebrow as a sword appeared from the mist swirling around the magistrate. She smiled viciously. "Fancy. Can you use it?" Before she'd even finished her sentence, her hands were already on her throwing knives. She threw two in each hand, one aiming for the stomach, one for the heart, one for the throat, and the last for his right eye. Seconds after she drew her katana, and followed through her knives, her body twisting around to avoid any attacks Severan made at her. As she made a swipe at him, she glanced behind him at his desk. She spied a goblet of wine, papers, but no stamp. That brief glance was all she could get before she had to turn her attention back to Severan. His back was to her, which he would undoubtedly fix soon. But she didn't attack. She felt like playing a bit with her prey. It would do no good to kill him by blade, when there were other, more amusing - and painful - ways to end his life.
Sure enough, he turned to face her again. However, he didn't move to attack. She smiled when she saw why. While he'd managed to dodge most of her knives, one had hit its mark. Blood was seeping through his robes, marking the area on his stomach where the knife had hit. That would be painful. She stepped toward him, as he staggered backwards, his free hand clutching his stomach, his sword arm up and ready to fight. Nightshade had to admit it, but the man had strength. A normal man would have been unable to stand because of the wound. Of course, Severan wasn't a normal man. He had magic, which no doubt helped his strength. But it wouldn't help him much anymore.
After studying him for a minute, she hissed, "I'm much, much worse than a witch, you silly man. I am Death. And I have come for you." She leaped forward, throwing her katana against his sword, sending it skittering out of his hand, and turning back into mist and disappearing. She whipped behind him, grabbing his head and pulling him backwards onto the ground. As he tumbled, she saw the glint of metal as he yanked out a hidden dagger and twisted around. He thrust it at her, and she wasn't able to completely block it due to their close proximity. Her mouth twitched as she felt the blade slice her side.
He fell on the ground, and staggered up to get to safety. She was on one knee, and looked down at the wound. She stood up, and put her hand on the wound, which was bleeding rather profusely now, and brought her hand at face level to study it. She smiled, as if she was seeing an old friend, not that she had any. Severan just looked on, horrified. She turned her gaze back on him, and her smile faded. Now she was annoyed, and hungry for her prey.
Playtime was over.
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Posted: Sat Nov 26, 2011 1:30 pm
It doesn't matter how long we may have been stuck in a sense of our limitations... Sayuri sat up weaily, her tight grip loosening from the tangled clump of bedsheets once she realized she was awake. For a moment, she forgot herself, expecting be to greeted by the frothy sound of waves on the beach and the to see the warm whitewashed walls of her room. As she looked her unfamillar surroundings, she could hardly believe the amount of change after a mere couple of days. Her forehead was dampened with cold sweat after a night in uneasy sleep. Her usually uneventful nights, were filled with a mixture of good and bad dreams. She tried to pull some of them back to mind. Standing in a place of complete white and the feeling of luxurious security surrounding her. But then there was the few where it seemed like her fears and worries from waking life crept into her nightmares as blurred montages; monsters with cruel eyes chasing after her, vicious growls through bared teeth that sent shivers up her spine, Marihan's wise stature standing before her with a sad look in her eyes, Itsuki and Luka's voices echoing in her ears. She sighed, looking out at the sun peaking above the horizon, staining the sky with pastel hues. "Dreams are just dreams." With that thought, she got out of bed and found a change of clothes from her bag. She brushed herself off as best she could before opening the door of the bedroom.
The heavy scent of food drifted towards her, she had to try to stop her stomach from growling. She felt guilty, not knowing how to repay his hospitality. Sure, she had a few coins on her, but it wasn't remotely close to equal value. She found him sitting by the fire, similar to last night except accompanied by his two dogs again. "...Good morning." She greeted Eldrich, stifling a yawn as she spoke. "Did you sleep well?" She asked, trying to make conversation but also slightly curious on a slight suspicion.
...To make something special, you just have to believe it is... O.O.C 【I'm so sorry for taking so long, I had to make up for all of the school I missed】
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Posted: Mon Dec 05, 2011 1:41 am
The young priest awoke from his sleep, stretching his arms. He felt rejuvenated; that was the best sleeps he had had since the beginning of his journey. He stood up and stretched again, nodding his head towards Mundar as Sayuri entered the room. "Good Morning to the both of you. I trust you both slept well?"
The priest helped himself to a slice of bread and nothing more. In truth, he was hungrier than an ox and would, under normal circumstances, devoured half of the meal with the grace of a starved bullock. There was a possibility of him facing the dark, however, so he elected to fast to increase his power. The magic he employed drew upon the purity of the body; with little in him other than the most simplest of chapel rations, his arrows would fly truer, and his magic shine brighter.
He sat down on the couch with his slice, nibbling quietly as he studied more relative books from the bookshelf. Though his discontent with fasting showed upon his face through slight twitches and an infrequent shifting of sitting position, he had resigned himself to a sacrifice of his own personal comforts for a better means of protecting Sayuri, which was desperately needed.
"I mean no disrespect regarding your hospitality," he said, turning his head to Mundhar. He nodded briefly to the dogs, as they seemed to like him. "I just do not have much of an appetite this morning."
The priest returned to his books, intending to find some other means of combat magic a priest could utilize.
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Posted: Mon Dec 05, 2011 3:01 am
[...the day before]
Mundhar looked over with a fatigued glance as he offered a warm smile and peered back into the smoldering remains of the roaring fire the night before. Canes and Venati mimicked their master's acknowledgment before laying their heads back down.
"Afraid I did not, though that is not to say my night was a burden." He replied a certain glow to his eyes; the kind of glint that had seen battle and relished in it's memory. "I would try the tests of time again."
"But now isn't the time for a old man's sentiments; there is much to do, so we must be off..." He said as he climbed to his feet, the dogs scurrying out of his wake as he moved to the table.
"You want that one there." He chimed as he passed Jude, pointing towards a text he'd either not gotten to or had overlooked. He ignored the priests apologies about the food as he began packing the food neatly into satchels, seeing through the smokescreen but not wanting to pry as to why he hides his piety behind white-lies. The book was a detailed account of remnants physiology as well as the magic channels they traveled. Within the text he would find insightful information on the monsters that plagued the woods since their coming two days ago, but the only thing he could apply practically was a purification enchantment. When employed properly, would purify any remnant flesh within it's barrier, returning dead creatures to their original forms. Unfortunately, despite speculation within the writings, it would not be possible to return the dead to life with the purification; once infected and altered by the dark energies, the being is there-after dead.
After packing the food, he turned towards Sayuri and Jude as he moved towards his crossbow propped against the fireplace.
"The sooner we go the better." He said bluntly before going to a drawer and producing a small burlap sack'; he examined the bag a moment with a scrutinous gaze before bringing it to Jude.
"I'd say you could get two of these dusty old texts in here. -- Choose wisely; you never know what demons you'll face and the halls of Ghar-Urighan have passed from all but legend, best to rely on record." He said, his eye contact hopefully driving the hint home. He then grabbed The Chronicle that he'd shown Sayuri the night before.
"And for you, my dear..." He said handing her the book. "The knowledge of your race. This is a tool alone, and a key to your gifts; you won't be able to use them all. Gifted as you are, no Summoner can receive such grace. We must let their wills speak through us and you will know their names." His face went callous and serious "The days of barbaric circles are behind our kind, Sayuri; if you choose to summon with a circle on a whim, the consequences could cost you your life..."
Ever the charmer; don't let him spook you, Sayuri, Luka awake and chipper as ever sparked in her mind. You'll know which ones to stay away from, and if not all you gotta' do is ask me!
"... might be a few during the day" Mundhar had been talking all the while. "Shouldn't be a problem."
He shouldered his crossbow as he made for the door. As he opened it he heard a distinct whine; the hounds had each sat in front of their guests. Canis by Sayuri, and Venati by Jude. They had a longful look in their eyes, and instantly Mundhar deciphered their unspoken language.
"That is absolutely right; I probably should tell you where we are going..." He said before looking to Sayuri and Jude. "It's a pretty good hike, but easy terrain; should be near Alexandria by tomorrow." [ [ Present Day ] ] It was amusing just what one thought about as they looked death in the eyes. Severan didn't dwell on his injury as he cupped the handfuls of blood oozing from his wound. It didn't bother him that this malformed oddity before him had the audacity to make an attempt on his life. No; what occupied Severan's thoughts was to wonder just who had ordered the attack. He wondered just who had gotten the better of him; who could get the better of him.
His expression changed as he laid his thoughts to rest. He took a stiffled breath as he gathered more mist to his right hand before thrusting his hand onto the wound in his stomach. He cringed as he leaned into the wound and endured the pain as the mist began to fuse to the wound and seep into the gash, becoming sticky and more like mucus than mist. The material clung violently to Severan's hand as he tugged against it and pulled it free with a drippy snap, his gaze icy and fixed on the assassin nursing her own wounds.
"If you think..." He hissed with pain and the mucus pulsating against his wound had taken a visible turn, before he re-vaporated his sword from it's discarded location on the ground back to his hand again. "...that I'm going give you -- the pleasure of killing me..."
Severan's breathing had become labored and his complexion pale; it was possible he'd lost too much blood, but there was something much more sinister at work here, it was evident in the way Severan seemed to linger in stance, focus in his eyes. Whatever was happening it had already run it's course. Severan seized in a gasp, wide-eyed as he went ridgid, the black material had already spread beneath his clothing and had crawled past his neck and laced onto much of his face.
The air in the room grew stagnant with silence before Severans frozen posture finally broke the silence.
"...It will ALL be mine!" He said, without so much as moving a muscle, before his form in it's entirety melted into a puddle of the black material that seemed to team with life and movement before simply flaking like ash as particles rose into the air and dissipated into mist before nothing of Severan remained. Circumstance was obscure, but Daphne's job was done none the less, and payment owed; the Magistrate, Severan was dead...
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Posted: Mon Dec 05, 2011 6:35 pm
The woman Daphne encountered earlier entered Severan's chambers moments after the battle had concluded. She appeared genuinely impressed.
"Here's your pay." She said, tossing a large sack of coins at Daphne's feet.
"What you did tonight was good work, and something only you could have pulled off." The woman started, pausing for dramatic effect. Now would be a good time to note she fancied adding such lapses to her conversations.
"Meet me back at the inn tomorrow night. I'll have more work for you, and this will pay even better."
With that, the woman took Severan's signet ring off of his desk and vanished down the stairwell, leaving Daphne to admire the kill of the century.
---
Lysos watched as the red wax melted on a dish above a candle. He withdrew the letter to Ylek from his document satchel, pouring an amount of wax near the center of the neatly folded letter where the two ends converged and overlapped against one another. Lysos pulled a beautifully crafted golden ring off of his bureau, taking a moment to admire it before pressing it against the still-hot wax. A circular seal in the form of a muscular champion bearing a scale appeared in the center of the wax sheet. This was the seal of the Magistrate of Alexandria.
"I received word that the mission was successful." Viscount Beldimar commented, entering Lysos's chambers without knocking. Lysos didn't mind.
"Your spiders are still sharp." Lysos responded.
"Here, I've finished the letter. Have one of yours deliver it to Ylek's bureau."
Beldimar took the letter and inhaled.
"Don't mind Medrian. Your son will be back on the board, that I assure you." Lysos said with confident reassurance. It was the last conflict between any of his allies, and the one which was most difficult to settle during Severan's tenure.
"I know." Beldimar said with a hint of continued disturbance. He left the room.
Lysos stood up and gripped Jagger's sword. He'd inspect in more in detail for the first time. Finding whose this belonged to was going to be difficult, but deciphering the mystery could only bring good things- either the admiration and goodwill of a cheated owner or the humiliation and condemnation of an enemy at court. At least that was what Lysos believed until he drew the blade.
"Royal b*****d." Lysos commented in distressed intrigue. He sheathed the blade. It was best for it to fall into someone else's ownership by tomorrow- keeping it will only cause problems and lead to diabolical rumors spreading about his integrity. Dassan had already left and took his post for the plan tomorrow, and several retainers patrolled the castle vigilantly. Though he'd found repose earlier that evening, Lysos decided it was best to get some more rest as midnight struck, leaving the issue of disposing of the blade for another time.
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Posted: Thu Dec 08, 2011 2:12 pm
He was the sort of person who stood on mountaintops during thunderstorms in wet copper armour, shouting,"All the Gods are bastards!" Jagger Green ╔══════════════╗
Located: Alexandria Jail Cell with Kiera
Injuries: Few nearly-healed scratches
Desires: Freedom
╚══════════════╝
Jagger upheaved a silent sigh as he cast a weary gaze over his shoulder, upwards, towards the spiral stairwell that would surely lead to him his belongings. But as his golden gaze veered to meet Kiera, he knew he couldn’t simply leave her behind, or worse, bring her along. So as he shifted away from his novice predatorily lurk, he hadn’t seemed to register a single word that had wistfully cut through the silence, fallen off of his feisty companions tongue. The only acknowledgment that the b*****d born had made was that of a subtle nod, and then he was off again, in a precarious sprint down the corridor as though any misplaced step may just set the entire vicinity ablaze. And for all he knew, it could be true. But he was sure that was his own simple imagination gnawing at his paranoia. He persevered, breath caught in the chasms of his chest, dust and dirt nearly caked upon every surface of his thick natural armor tanned by the sun’s constant beating rays with clothes far more tattered and torn since before the journey began; he hadn’t once felt the need to pilfer the clothing left hung to dry since he came across the young girl from Madeen.
Travelling down, further and further, until the torches were fewer and farther in between, and the walls seemed to narrow, crushing down the further they dropped until only a small holdfast had allowed them entrance through the dungeons to the catacombs. ”Further on will take you out, there’s no other way to go from here but Alexandria, so you won’t get lost…” Jagger’s thick accent of ignoble churl had drifted off into the atmosphere, lost to all of the grit and grime glory that their passage had encumbered. But when he noticed her deliberate pause, and then that suspecting veering glance, he quickly affirmed himself. ”I can’t go with you from here on, I have to go back or they’ll never stop looking for us, for me…
“The king is my father, and that’s his sword.” The dawning realization of his own life befell him, and it clouded his gaze until there was nothing he could see but himself. The ailing father that he could barely recall, and the sister that he’s seen only once before, but only the gods knew where she was now. ”An’ ever’one who’s ever wanted that throne has been trying to kill me since the day I was born—I have to get that sword before anyone else does.” That rushed, wild look could only mean that those spewing words shone with truth, he didn’t know why he was even admitting this, but at least if he never lived to see the end, she would know the truth. What a dismal thought to end on…
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