03-27-2008
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Nyxia
Nyxia OOC -> Please visit here first and apply before posting.
The slow moving water made an eerie sound as it echoed within the small space of the sewers. The skittering of mice and rats down distant tunnels combined with the sense that someone was watching made the hair on the back of Phelps neck stand on end. He moved slowly along the wooden boardwalk that was raised a few centimeters above the flowing decay. He tried desperately to make no sound but that didn't stop his foot from crunching down of the collar bone of a long dead man as he rounded a corner. The sound pushed him over that edge he was teetering on and he nearly cracked. Swinging around wildly he drew his short sword and thrust it into the darkness that hung ominously just beyond the light of his torch. His heart was racing, he breathing deep and uncontrolled. This was not his element and he would be happy the moment he was able to climb back to the surface and breath uncontaminated air. He stood there, sword gripped so tight his knuckles began to whiten, waiting for something. Glancing down for a moment he caught the source of the sound, the skeleton beneath him was twisted so that the Huma's empty eyes were glaring at him. Phelps panicked again and stabbed his blade into one of the dead sockets, causing the fragile skull to splinter into pieces. A soft, slow clap echoed repeatedly within the tunnel. Phelps turned to try and pick up the source but it was to no avail, the complex network caused the sound to appear to originate from everywhere. It was closing in on him, and suddenly his unrefined hearing picked up footsteps and lastly a bit of a hearty chuckle as a man stepped into Phelps's torch light. He stood there and grinned at Phelps, slowly clapping his hands together before him, "Impressive show, lucky for you the skeleton was dead already." The man's voice was calm and yet at the same time menacing. He had very short black hair that stood on end with a few rogue strands that hung down to frame his face. He was wearing a leather studded jacket with half length sleeves. Underneath was a red mesh shirt that's arms extended just to the man's elbows which was a fair distance beyond the edge of the jacket sleeves. His eyes seemed to be blue but when Phelps blinked and looked again they were green and across the left one was a small scar, likely caused by a blade. He wore a leather belt that wrapped around his waist and then crossed over his left shoulder. On his hips hung a spiked mace and short sword while around the rest of the belt and running up his shoulder was a collection of vials and glass containers holding strange coloured substances. Phelps flushed red and sheathed his weapon, standing tall he offered his hand to the stranger, "Phelps McCaullin." The stranger laughed again, "I know who you are, and it's not common sewer courtesy to offer a formal introduction." "Well.. I..." Phelps was unaccustomed to this kind of etiquette. Apparently the sewer folk had some kind of personalized code of honour. "Relax. I believe I am who you seek down here." The man paused before smiling again, "in fact I know I am the man you seek down here." Phelps pale blue eyes met the mans, "The Baker?" "Aye, that is what they call me today. Tomorrow I may be the Craftsman, and next week I shall likely be just Ryan but today I am The Baker. What is it that I can do for you - it cost you a great time and money investment to obtain this meeting so you best not waste it." The Baker crossed his arms before him and waited. "I need one of your famed Elixirs." "And what should it do for you." "Well you see, I am Nako." Phelps motioned to his short cat-like ears that protruded from beneath his golden hair, "But I have been loosing my senses as of late - I suspect it is due to poison. I wish to have a mutation to re-enhance and possibly excel them beyond their original state. I wish to see and hear better than ever before." The Baker brought his right hand up to hold his chin and tilted his head slightly downwards, "That can be arranged, did you want me to supply the raw ingredients or yourself?" "Well, I am a respected member of the city and active counselor in the Guilds. I couldn't go missing on some wild monster chase and not be missed so you will have to supply them." The Baker nodded affirmatively, "I will need about a week. My people will contact you when your brew is prepared with information about where to collect it and how much to pay for it." "I said I was well respected! I can't have thugs just coming up to me in the day and giving me information! It would ruin me." Phelps's mind had this image of a Lyzira man with black and red scales and armour made of the bones of dead warriors coming up to him in the middle of a council session and telling him his 'brew' was prepared. He shuddered at the thought. "Relax Nako, I am the best and longest standing Alchemist in the business. Experience has made me and my people masters of deception and subtlety. You will know and no one else will. Now, scurry along and get yourself out of this place." Without another word, Phelps nodded and bowed slightly before turning on heel and precariously navigating the maze-like corridors to the entrance way he had used. As Phelps departed a giant of a man stepped from just beyond where the torch light had reached and stood behind The Baker. "What do we need this time." The man's voice was comparable to a the low feral growl of a wild beast. "Help." Without another word The Baker pushed past the giant man and headed for what he loosely called home.
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03-28-2008
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"Get on outta' here!" The tubby nako tender yelled as he clapped a hand to the man's back, giving him a rough shove out the door. Not rough enough to set him off balance, but enough to remove him effectively. Emerald eyes widened in shock as he juggled with the items in his arms. Pieces of discarded mythril, and a heap of junked circuit boards and appliance parts, it took all of his focus to keep his balance as well as his hold on the items he had been hoarding.
"An here's your wages!" The tender's fist unfurled, a few pieces of low currency falling into the street with tinkling clangs until they too fell silent. With flattened feline ears, the tender slammed the tavern door with such a ferocity that the thunderous clap echoed across the near-empty streets, drawing the attention of a few other's in the area. It was late, very late. Middle of the night late, and Space had worked long and hard to earn his tiny wages this evening. Still, there were more spoils to be had than money because it seems there was some good in working for the fat tavern-owner. There were always people bartering at the bar, always there with their new technologies they found in the market district. Most of them were happy to get their broken or obsolete items off their own hand for no charge much less what Spencer offered for them. Tonight he had scored some prizes. Mythril was terribly hard to get when he, himself, wasn't allowed to venture into the market district, and it just so happened one of the patrons had some scrap armor they were selling for cheap. Most of Space's wages went to acquiring these worthless pieces, but he lived comfortably, or at least he thought so. It wasn't a long walk to his home, a comfortable one room-type shack just a bit aways from the edge of the working district. Pushing the door open, he piled his night's spoils on his work desk. Most of his home was crammed full of parts, boxes of parts, crates of pieces and parts. Parts upon pieces upon shards, upon anything mechanical he could get his hands on. Because what he did for a living was repair. He wasn't the best in Nyxia, but damned near close to it. He had yet to be unable to repair any technologies that came his way, including armor and weapons. He had even done repairs for wealthy folk in the market district. And for people who were poor, he repaired especially cheap, money wasn't too much of an issue for him, except when it came to taxes. With tax day coming, money was a bit tight. Work had to be done, several orders needed to be ready by the end of the day tomorrow. It looked like another all-nighted as Spencer sat down at his desk, pulling a few tools from a drawer and setting to work on his evening's endeavors.
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New Orleans Will Rise Again!
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03-28-2008
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The low rumble of chatter filled The Iron Drake tavern as patrons guzzled back gallons of cheap wine and poorly filtered mead. A Dwarva of unusual height stood behind the bar, his usually long beard cut short to prevent getting in the way of his profession and his was worn with the scars of a long forgotten war. The moon had reach it's apex and was now beginning to descend to the sea as the rickety wooden door to the tavern creaked open, unnoticed by all save the barkeep, and in strode a peculiar pair.
The barkeeps eyes met those of smaller man who's eyes seem to have an unnaturally shifting colour. The giant who had entered with him had to turn sideways and duck just to get through the doorway and was now moving in sync with the other fellow. The two reached the place where the bar met the wall and the smaller man propped himself up on a stool while his companion just leaned against the wall crossing his great arms over his chest and glaring in the barkeeps direction. "Gilger, get your arse over here and serve me. Stop acting like I'm a stranger." The short haired man with the strange eyes hollered at the barkeep who's tenseness seemed to melt away as he casually hobbled to where his old friend sat. "Raylen, how are you this lovely evening?" The barkeep reached under the counter and produced an expensive bottle of wine from which he poured two large glasses and placed them before Raylen and his ally. "Terrible at best. I need to leave you with some contracts." Raylen picked up his glass and carefully tasted the wine, "Not the best I've had, but definitely beyond the regular servings of this place." "I got it from a friend in the Market District." Gilger smiled, taking a swig from the bottled before re corking it and storing it again beneath the counter. Raylen likewise chugged back the rest of his drink and as he slid the glass over to the barkeep also pushed a rolled piece of parchment towards him as well with his other hand, "Neyra will be by in the morning to collect on anything." The barkeep nodded, pocketed the parchment and left the pair to their business. Raylen's companion still stared coldly in the Dwarva's direction, "To the fields with us then?" Raylen nodded silently, raising to his feet and turning for the door. His companion followed, leaving his glass of expensive wine untouched on the counter. Once they were outside and the cold chill had once again laid claim to their flesh Raylen spoke again, "But first, I have something to collect that may be of assistance. I had a decently skilled repair man fix up a repeater cross bow I procured from a fence in the slums. Should be done, I dropped it off a few days ago." On that final note the two silently made their way to the home of Spencer Sarceaux.
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03-28-2008
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What more could there be to life than lounging about the working district? A question often brought to Johnny's own mind. There was nothing better than being a nuisance to those around you while waiting for some dirty work to come your way. But it seems the dirty work around these parts only got so... dirty. His last three jobs had been collecting debts and he had even sunk so low as to assist a man unloading some wares for a pretty penny.
The night had cloaked him fairly well considering his worn attire was comprised of hardened dark leather. A crimson bandanna adorned his forehead, half shaded by his dark hair. He was nako, feline. Two ears were usually pinned back, bushy black tail swishing contently back and forth. But other than those two characteristics and pronounced canines, the rest of him resembled huma. His weapon of choice were two short swords that he often rubbed down with a mild poison. Nothing fatal, just a dab of ointment that would cause a bit of an intolerable and excruciatingly painful burning sensation to the flesh around the wound from the said swords. Without dirty deeds to be had or a winning side to pick, he spent his days wandering about, occasionally picking fights that obviously put him in the advantage, or trying to find a way to further his own advantages. After a while, however, lounging got terribly boring... You could only offer your services so many times before it made you look desperate. Not that he was hurting for coin... He was just a greedy bastard and wanted more. A drink was in order, and so he set off for the Iron Drake. The slums smelled as they always did, like filth, to his enhanced smell anyway. Wrinkling up his nose in disgust, he meandered off towards the tavern, offering a grimace at the huma and his rather... massive companion as the exited, waiting for the ability to slip past them through the door. The tavern's air was welcomed. The thick, smoky atmosphere was like a home away from home... Sorta. He chose a seat in the back of the tavern, raising his fingers for a drink, fuzzy black ears pinned back against his head. He had been in the market for business, seeking new poisons so he could up his ranks in the mercenary guild... ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Every second the clock ticked madness into the silence of the slums and on a tired mind every tick induced even more exhaustion. He was on his last repair, tired eyes slipping closed only to pop back open with the sudden fall of his head. The sudden interruption of that weightless feeling that brought about the harsh realization that there was still work to do. Picking up an soldering tool, he set to work finishing the job on something small, something simple. A wrist watch whose owner wished to have modifications made.
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New Orleans Will Rise Again! Last edited by Cferretrun : 03-28-2008 at 07:02 PM.
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03-28-2008
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A giant, pale skinned muscular man wearing a leather vest and torn shorts stepped up to the small, single roomed shack. Behind him a few paces stood Raylen. He was preparing himself to stifle laughter as he could only imagine the look on Spencer's face when he saw the massive creature upon opening the door. Raylen suspected the poor man was likely sleeping, an unfortunate summoning at an unfortunate time.
The giant man gently rapped on the wooden door. His idea of gentle however, was more like a loud thumping. After hammering on the door, which caused the entire structure to shake a little, he stepped back and crossed his bulky arms over his chest, his beady black eyes boring a hole into the unmoving wooden barrier. Raylen stood casually at the giant's side, his right hip pushed outward and his hand resting upon it. ~X~ The Dwarva barkeep saw the Nako with the pinned ears raise his hand to request a drink. He knew the fellow from the mercenaries guild posters. He had seen him from time to time in the slums, and decided it was an opportunity to appease Raylen that he would not pass up. He waved at the bar maiden who was on her way to take the mercenaries order. The scantily clad huma woman weaved her way back to the bar and approached her boss, "What? I'm busy." "Watch your tongue or I'll have you sent back to the pit you crawled from. I need you to do a favour for me." The barkeep started to reach into his back pocket to retrieve the contract as he spoke. The woman rolled her eyes, "You will have to wait until my paying customers are finished." Gilger spat on the counter top in front of the woman, "I'm loyal to my wife you wench. Now, when you get that Nako's order drop this into his lap would ya'." He handed her the rolled up parchment which was sealed with a drop of wax marked with Gilger's personal seal -- the head of a war hammer -- "If that seal is broken by any other than he you will be spilling more blood than is usual this month." The woman curled her lips in resentment and turned away from the bar. She dodged her way through the crowds, the parchment held neatly in her right hand. As she approached the Nako she leaned in towards him, almost burying his face in her cleavage as she whispered into his ear, "Gilgar wanted you to have this, and I wanted to serve you." She exhaled lightly onto his pinned ear as she pulled back, dropping the parchment into his lap. "What can I get you?"
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Last edited by Candi : 03-28-2008 at 07:56 PM.
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03-29-2008
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The man hung stiff, the floor beneath him was stained with old blood. Blood dripped from his left eye and the right eye could not be seen through the swollen purple and black bruise. He wasn't wearing a shirt or pants but had a blood stain cloth hanging around his hip. His chest was full of scars, and a new gash bled on the side of his left hip bone. The man, once a strong server of the slum,s was nothing more then a caged boy. Hanging limp by his wrist, unconscious.
"Heal him and tend to his wounds. I will be back in a day or two to continue. Make sure he is fully healed" Said a sweet voice. "yes m'lady" Replied the young Shurkiz. The young girl to bowed as the older Shurkiz left the room slamming the Black marble doors behind her. At the sound of the door the man groaned and his head rolled to the side. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A smile slowly crawled across the woman's face. She moved down the dark hall and climbed a set of stairs leading to the Highest level of the Mansion. "Lady Aderrain" A younger Shurkiz lady called as she bowed and moved towards the women. The older Shurkiz kept moving forward as if she heard nothing. She turned and walked through the White marble doors. The room was bathed in darkness except for the Candles that hung from the six pillars in the grand chamber. The night sky could be seen through the sky light and a grand throne was lit in a soft blue light. The Shurkiz women moved to the other end of the room, her movements making no sound and she sat on the throne and looked to the younger women with a smile on her face. " What is it you have to bother me with tonight Nith?" The women said as she crossed her legs. The young lady moved forward, her Dark blueish black hair shinning in the glow of the candles. Her face soft with dark maroon eyes, her skin palm and silvery. "Sister I am to assume the meeting with the matron Mothers did not go well" she said in a gentle tone making sure not to upset her sister. Aderrain's smile disappeared. "They are old and rule this city in the old ways." She rose from her set and stared into her sister her eyes full of fire. "BE GONE WITH YOU" she yelled at her sister. Nith turned and ran out of the room, away from her sisters furry. As she closed the door behind her she heard a magical blast hit the door. Nith sighed. " I guess she will be back to the dungeon tonight." with another deep sigh she looked down the hall. "it is unfortunate that I wasn't able to tell her of the sickness going around in some of the workers. Oh well its not important anyway." Nith made her way down the hall wanting to be out of her sister wrath. A second after Nith was out of sight, the main chamber the doors swung open and Aderrain walked through the doors holding a teddy bear. "We shall have some fun tonight wont we Etain." With that she walked to the lower dungeons, breaking everything in site.
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Let your mind fly and your dreams let lose Last edited by Azalyn : 03-30-2008 at 07:11 AM.
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03-29-2008
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The utmost precision and focus was demanded when working on such small, delicate items. Focus that was unfortunately interrupted by the thunderous roar of the giant's fist on his door causing his soldering iron to slip, cutting through the thin aluminum. With a deep intake of breath, he uttered a string of swears, pushing the now damaged instrument to the side with a deep inlaid frown.
Eyes outlined in dark circles of exhaustion moved to the door, wishing for a moment he was blessed with the powers of foresight. Dragging his carcass from his work bench, he rubbed at the back of his beck as he moved to the door, unlatching it and pulling it open. Another unwelcoming frown turned his lips as he tilted his gaze upward at the massive man, finding himself unable to speak clearly, "Eh... uh... Can I help you?" He hadn't noticed the huma there. His neglect was purely unintentional. -------------------------------------------------------------- Jay's lips could only slip into a curvaceous smirk of sorts when his amber eyes landed upon the approaching scant barmaid. Though the lustful glint in the orange-hued orbs dissipated immediately with the acquisition of the sealed parchment. As a feline, his curiosity knew no bounds, his attention captivated by the note hence the lack of enthusiasm in his voice as he murmured a response, "Ehr... Strongest..cheapest. Whatever you got." Nimble fingers turned the rolled parchment over, the seal facing up. Despite his mediocre ranking in the mercenary's guild, he wasn't much for legalities, the seal was foreign to him, as were most and many others. He waited until the bar wench had left before be broke the seal, unrolling the parchment and taking in the words written upon it. Orders- A job. Finally. Something to do. He bore an untamed grin of excitement before rolling up the parchment and jamming it beneath his cloak.
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New Orleans Will Rise Again!
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03-29-2008
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Raylen could barely contain himself. The look on Spencer's face was almost priceless. The frowning lips, inability to speak - everything was so comical to Raylen. He got some sort of twisted pleasure out of they way people reacted upon first seeing his companion. The giant of a man merely grunted in response to the repairman's stammering. He remained motionless and bored into the man with his cold black eyes.
Raylen stepped past his partner and up to the threshold under which Spencer stood, holding out his hand and producing a smile that showed no teeth, "Spencer Sarceaux, pleasure to meet again. My name is Lexa Deveraux. Don't fret too much over my friend here. I had one of my assistants leave an item with you for repair last week." Raylen's eyes twinkled under the moon's light. After first making eye contact with Spencer his eyes began to traverse the inside of the hut that stood behind the man. Crazy junk collector. No wonder he's the best, I imagine he's got some brain troubles too -- the best one's are always screwed up.. ~X~ Gilger chuckled to himself as he saw the barmaid's look of disgust when the Nako brushed her away like the dirty tramp she was. He liked it when people got what they had coming to them. She pranced on up to the bar and stared coldly at the Dwarva, "Wants whatever you got." A scowl that managed to revoke all possible beauty the woman had was etched upon her face, "gimme something he can't afford." The Dwarva retrieved the untouched glass of expensive wine that Raylen's companion had left behind and placed it before the barmaid, "Give him this, and tell him it's on the house." His lips spread in a wide toothy grin as a look of defeat replaced the woman's scowl, "now run along and resume your whoring with my other patrons." The barmaid snatched up the drink and moved her way over to the Nako's table again. On her way there she moved through a crowded intersection where a group of Lyzira were getting up and preparing to leave. While buried in the small crowd she took a brief moment to grab a small vial of a colourless, odorless substance she stored deep in her cleavage and add a few drops to the Nako's wine. Upon emerging from the group the vial was already safely hidden away between her breasts. The drink didn't look a shade different than it had before she entered the group - none where the wiser to the deception. She strode over to the felines table and gently placed the drink before him, "S'on the house." Before the Nako could respond she was already moving towards the other side of the tavern.
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03-30-2008
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Kar's eyes began to flicker as the pale moonlight beamed off of the puddles between the cobbles and into his dilated eyes. The ground was cold and damp beneath him and his limbs were numb from the chill. He clambered to his feet and wiped his forehead with his hand, his palm was a pool of blood and granite. He brushed himself down, his clothes were scruffy and in much need of repair and then wrapped himself in a woollen cloak sinking into the little warmth it provided.
The blackouts had become more frequent as of late but to him healthy natural sleep was impossible. He couldn't remember what day it was, let alone how he had ended up in what looked like a backstreet of the working district. The last thing he could remember was being followed by a mysterious figure, he was wanted for tax evasion and numerous other criminal acts but something told him that this stranger wasn’t a member of the authorities. All around him was silence and darkness but for a single twinkling light coming from the entrance to the unfamiliar alley. The laceration was to his temple, the blood was dry but the wound smelt rather bad making him nauseas. The flesh on his forehead was mostly scar tissue, a result of numerous frequent falls he had been taking as of late. He began staggering towards the end of the alley, hoping it would give him a clearer view of the area and allow him to catch his bearings. As he approached the opening onto the street he could hear voices, he quietened his footsteps as the voices grew louder. He peered around the corner of the entrance to the alley and a group of figures caught his eye, they were huddled around the doorway to a hut. Three of them, none of whom he recognised but two stood out as being, odd. One could only be described as a giant and his mysterious looking companion darkened Kars heart and gave him a feeling of great unease. Kar bathed in the shadows of the walls to the alley and eavesdropped on the conversation.
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"And with such Grace, I shall remove your Face..."
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04-03-2008
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Crouching in the wood was a Lyzira with skin the colour of forest. Black war paint was on his neck where his spines were. He was staring at his prey, a middle aged Huma with light brown hair. There was something in his hand, a note, which was what the Lyzira was after.
He opened up his belt pouch and pulled out a vial and an arrow. Then he dipped his arrow in the vial and notched it in his bow. He slowly pulled it back and aimed it at the Huma's chest. Once he thought it would hit he released it. It quickly hit its target and the Huma fell to the ground screaming as the arrow went into his abdomen. Knowing that his prey did not die, the Lyzira dropped his bow and ran towards the Huma drawing his sword. Once the Huma saw who shot him, his face turn into fear."NO! Talyn wait please don't kill me" the Huma begged. Talyn didn't stop, he picked up the Huma by the throat and threw him into a tree. After the blow from Talyn the Huma got up slowly and was coughing. Now the Huma was very frightened and knew his fate so he dropped to his knees and said "kill me for my death is nothing". Talyn knew how much fear was in this Huma as he dropped to the ground. "Get up and fight show some honor" Talyn growled. "Here's your honor" the Huma said and spat at him. Talyn didn't even hesitated to stop his swing and beheaded the Huma. His head rolled off and warm blood squirted all over Talyn as the motionless body fell to the earth. Talyn wiped the blood off and said "Filthy thief" under his breath. Then he walked over to the body and retrieved his arrow and the letter that was in his hand. " What so special about this note that this Huma died for?" Talyn thought going back to the brush where he left his bow. Once Talyn picked up his bow, he headed back to Nyxia ready for his pay for this bounty
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