Zhymos IC

[ClockworkDaisy]

Arsædor Zerumat "The Rose"
The Mainland

04 - Cazador del Amor

"Why thank you madam," bowing with a flourish of his arm, Arsædor walked to the edge of the roof of the building which he was on and then finished with "now go open the door Taboo!" While his voice was intense it was of course not an order but more of a very serious suggestion. With that he vanished behind the building as he simply hopped off. As he fell he opened his lefs and let his boots rub against the wall as he fell. It became a slide, until he stopped completely a few feet from the ground. Hopping down and sideways --facing the exit-- he rolled as he landed and moved into a brisk walk. Making sure he did not jostle anyone all too bad, he continued on towards the gate he had told Taboo she was to open for him. From there on things would get serious, very serious, and tricky~

"Haven't had a mission this tricky for a while, should be a good test..." he said to himself as he nodded to a young girl he had seen staring. With a slight chuckle he trudged on, weaving through the crowds like the contractor and assassin he had become in his last few years. It was certainly enjoyable.

Taboo's face went blank, her mind already touring the layout of the place - it seemed typical enough truth be told, one man with money was much like the next when it came to displaying his wealth and grandeur. She nodded succinctly and took off to find the door, executing a series of nimble acrobatics until she reached the front. Spying a guardsman lingering by the entrance Taboo stepped sideways into the shadows.

An indelicate tug sent her hair tumbling about her shoulders and she adjusted her vest until it did little more than barely restrain her breasts, she moved closer to the guard with a giggle deliberately drawing attention to herself.
"Excuse me? Excuse me.. can you help a girl out? It seems I have.. well.. " She indicated her torso, a healthy expanse of flesh visible to the eyes, and when the guard couldn't help but be so predictable but to find himself caught up in admiring her wares, Taboo ran her fingers across his jawline and down his neck. Applying pressure just there she rendered him unconscious, flicked open the door and stooped to drag him out of sight.

[Rtron]

Shadowwalker - Cthonia - Meeting with Acriane

The man turned to Acriane, waiting until the undead had left. "I did indeed. I represent a part of the Shadowwalkers that are....dissatisfied...with the way things are in our organization. There is no real leadership. Hasn't been since the last High priest of the Dark Gods was slain by an undead by the name of Goren Fern. We have no real uniting feature, besides our goal to wipe out the Wolves of light. What we do then, we do not know. Which is why I've been sent to find you. We need leadership. And as far as we're concerned, you're the only one who can do it. Should you accept, I'll lead you to the meeting that is to take place a day from now. The entire organization will be there, and we will be deciding our leader. Be warned though, there will be challengers. Should you not accept," The man gave a small shrug. "I'll hope for the best at the meeting." With that, the leaned back in his chair and waited for an answer.

Goren Fern - Mainland - Chatting with Ksaer and Shoryu

Goren was about to respond to Shoryu when Ksaer sat down. Keeping his balance, but only just, he responded to Shoryu first. "In response to your question, I'm hunting servants of the Dark gods. One of them happened to be trying to shoot you. I dealt with him, tried to go past you, and was nearly landed upon by Ksaer." Turning towards Ksaer. "I was not always undead. I earned the blessings of a few of the Higher Order, and ventured into Cthonia to investigate rumors of a High priestess of the Dark Gods. We clashed several times over the years, and she one our last encounter. Gravely wounding me. I awoke 3 days later, undead." Goren gestured to his body in way of explanation, hoping that the dragon wouldn't ask about his tattoo markings on his armor. He didn't seem the kind to not roast one alive for having a Dark Gods mark.

Vroten - Cthonia - Arriving at Vortas

Vroten dismissed the Warriors and Sorcerer before heading towards Vrangr. He would be pleased to learn that the plan was a success and the Wolves of Light were now under minor Siege by a legion of the Demons. Arriving he noticed a strange woman walking away from Vrangr with an undead. Even more strange was the look of affection in Vrangr's eyes as he watched her leave. Vroten approached and made his presence known. "Master. The deed is complete. The Wolves of Light will not be meddling any time soon.

Vrangr - Cthonia - Listening to Vrotens report

Vrangr nodded a smile coming to his face. "Good. With luck, they will be all the more weaker when we push over to them and conquer Cthonia." Vrangr said. Then, almost as if to himself, "Make no mistake, Cthonia will be under Vrogreon control. Then, the world." I've a meeting in the Mainland to get to soon....I hope the meeting with the Shadow walker is worth it. If not, well then. I suspect pain will be in someones future. Vrangr thought, chuckling slightly.

[Draconilian]

"you talk like a scientist that's for sure." Adair mumbled, referring to Kell's particularly'precise' manner of speech. Then, in a more audible voice "We ought go then, I'm heading north, to Icefire, as I believe I already mentioned. And we should not waste time" Adair switched back to his human form finally and set out along the path, Kell trailing behind him.

They traveled in silence for some time, but unfortunately, the third Kolyok in a row was tracking them.
this was no normal, if such a word could be used, Kolyok though. He was a top tier predator, one that other monsters may have spoken of to frighten each other. He was one of the few to master dark fire magic, his control of it was such he created all his weapons out of it. not to mention capable of controlling it to a fine degree.

Dark fire is nearly unheard of, mostly because few live to tell of it. indeed his prey would have quite the story, should they survive, and this one had no intention of leaving survivors.

His senses, as well as experiences, were enough to pick up that one of his targets was a werewolf, they have a particular way of carrying themselves that their predator had seen twice before, long ago though it was.

Adair sensed something at last, the Kolyok was good at hiding itself, but not good enough. This time it was Adair's sensitivity to electricity that worked though. You can hide smell, and you can hide sound, but everything alive, to his knowledge, had a subtly detectable electrical current.

He took stock of the area, a small copse of trees to his right, where he detected the pursuer, a large rocky outcrop in front of him that they were about to head around, and Kell just behind him.
Silently, he raised a hand to stop "follower"
he would have said it quieter, but he was sure the follower in question would have heard him either way.

"Ah fuck, he can tell I'm here?" The kolyok thought to himself, he was currently invisible and silent, no clue how this one had detected him, perhaps intuition? Either way, he summoned a single small dagger into his left hand. It coalesced out of black flames into the shape of a blade, throbbing with dark light, that is, darkness with the properties of light.
By now, Adair had primed some ice magic in his hands, and was trying to pinpoint the electrical field of his foe, one skill he hadn't yet mastered, considering he had only learned it a couple weeks ago.

if he was faster, he could have stopped the Kolyok before the knife was at his throat and slashed.
Adair fell to the ground, breathing heavily, the wound patching itself up in seconds at least, but not fast enough for him to regain his footing before the Kolyok's horribly clawed foot was on his back.
================================================== ==============

"Trying to build power, that's all they ever did. They say three of the mountains we lived in were the corpses of clan members who'd grown so large that they became part of the landscape! I cannot stand their horrible obsession with size. Size isn't everything! I'm comfortable the way I am, and the damned wishes of my sire won't make me go to sleep for decades at a time. I don't even particularly like to sleep."
nearing the end of his rant, the last words from the mechanical Dragon registered in Ark's organic brain "wait, what!? Harbingers don't have names? or is it just because you're a Dragon harbinger they couldn't give you a name? if you don't have a name metal-scales, then you don't really have an identity either. You're strange, but surely you can understand the importance of having a name."

[Closet Nerd]

Collaborative post between Closet Nerd and Yoshua171

Ruthan o Paramythás &
The Epic of Arkaeis Zraimat:
The Chimeric avail of bias.
Realms Beyond ---> The Mainland - Amras Annare - Chorikos


On horseback, the chase had not lasted, and though his mind shivered in a clamorous uproar, he was calm. Looking about he noticed the time of day, the sun had risen to its zenith and was truly a marvelous sight to behold. Of course not all agreed, there was never agreeyance in its entirety when it came to his strange, shifting skazkic existence. So while on the inside he smiled, on the outside he let go of his embrace of the woman as they slowed. He had been forced to hold on tightly as the landscape whirred passed, now however things were slower, calmer.

"Some miles north along this trail lies another town. Perhaps they will be more kind to you than those that had assailed you before."

A sigh of relief escaping him, Arkaeis was looking to the side at the strange mechanical creation, the persona that had risen to exist en full found the thing curious. Smiling slightly he took in a deep breath of air to enjoy the new freedom he had. That mercenary band had been a hellish bunch, he could hardly believe that he'd survived the encounter.

Within there was naught but the laughter of a madman, of the truth to his existence. Inwardly he shivered, but none of it ever showed, his physical body was but a puppet to the will of his many all inclusive mind: True Chimeric madness. Though, in the scope of his kind, the Skazka, he was no less sane than they --if sanity could indeed be applied to such varied narratives.

"And might I ask what was responsible for that scene we happened to crash through?"

Turning as if to look at the girl, meeting her eyes as he head likely turned slightly as she asked, he showed a sheepish expression and then shivered in remembrance. "Nasty business..." he said seeming to be quite bothered, he was sure she'd notice, after all riding together on horseback made them rather...close.

Infernal heavens fell in their minds, rising and corroding at one another. Falling apart as they built each other up to new complexity and synchronicity: Destroy to Build, Build to Destroy.

As Zraimat began to speak, after the slightly jarring experience, the hills began to slowly fade into the rich countryside filled with lush grasses gleaming from the light of the high sun dangling above them. Along the trail a few buildings could be vaguely discerned in the distance as the land flattened to the beats of the horse's hooves. It was still a ways away and as they could now see far as their pace was slow they would likely know that it would only be a short time before their arrival in the far off settlement. Ruthan turned her head now to the road as she attempted to listen solemnly to his side of the story.

"I had..." he continued, sighing in some form of regret that she might come to know, perhaps even sympathize with "I had contracted them, but apparently the pay was not sufficient after the deed was...done." Shaking his head, the man released a sigh "It is my fault I suppose, trusting mercenaries is dangerous business, and I acted in panic and anger rather than in my logical mind"

Shivers and quakes ran through the mind, minds, minded, minding their own business as they/it/he/she/them moved and continued. The glorious amusement resounded and the one whose name was that very aspect called out in a chorus of telepathic might 'EXPERIENCE, AMAZING WONDERFUL INCREDIBLE EXPERIENCE!!!' Yet despite the might of his internal voice no one else heard, as his voice was just that internal.

"I attacked their leader, intending only for a slight...it turned out to be the final spark to light his temper. I-I am grateful that you managed to pull me from the fray. If...If I had had to last much longer, who knows what I would have done." There was the slightest of foreboding tones in the last of his utterances, but they would likely do nothing to further sully her view of him. He was a stranger, and while his words held weight of how she'd see him, they were not everything, and at least to this woman he was a man who'd been attacked, and who she had graciously chosen to rescue despite her own plight at the time.

'Snag her, she cannot be allowed escape from our clutches. Every word, action, reaction, and their many kin is one with which to lure her further into the abyss of our wondrous influence. Snag, trap, ensnare, any word you like. Continue, but know your purpose. You are me and I you, all of us as one, separate, forced entity. Know your place and your purpose, persona, and do not ruin that which you represent, or no longer shall you truly function.' It was the voice of Amusement who lectured the budding persona, for it had to know its place below him, or they could all fall into slumber once more.

"Though, if we may, I'd prefer not to talk of...such things, they only weigh down the spirit, don't you ag-agree... I-I realize now that we are not acquainted, by name that is, I mean." Seeming suddenly nervous he rubbed his head and smoothed back his hair as if to refocus his thoughts "apologies, I have not introduced myself fair lady," smiling, a charming smile, but not one with intentions dirty --intentions that ought stay in the gutter where they belonged-- graced his face as he looked at her, a slight sheepish look in his eyes revealing that while further commposed, he indeed still felt nervous jitters somewhere in his psy- "Ah!" grabbing his head suddenly he crumpled up somewhat behind her and seemed to give off strange bursts of...was that magical power?

Restraint was difficult, but they soon managed to come to some form of agreement within their strange ethereal heads.

At that time Ruthan had reared her head around as if to begin her speaking, stopping herself after noticing the charm of his countenance toward her. She didn't think much of it, especially with the innocent look in his eye, but it did succeed in reminding her that her hood was not folded over her brow where it belonged. Perhaps it fell back in the hurry, but it would not be wise of her to continue showing her face if she were to enter a town whether or not they knew of her identity and of the bounty that was set on the princess of Pagonia. Besides, she did not fully trust many strangers and would not enjoy showing her face around them --especially the men-- anyway. It was this man though that she had a strange comfortability with that at the time she could not notice.

After these thoughts had passed, she pulled her hood up to it's rightful position. Perhaps getting lost in thought while attempting to have a conversation with this man was not the best idea. That was when she noticed that something was amiss and looked up to see half-tangible rays of translucent blue sparking from the man. He was bent over as if in pain or some sort of internal anguish. Ruthan watched with wariness, one hand on the man's shoulder as if to help and the other on the hilt of her blade."It is magic!" was the only comprehendible thought from her as she watched him gain control of himself.

The power weakened in intensity and began to die away. "Again, I apologize," righting himself he sat up and rubbed his head, a frown on his face, though only slight in truth.

At length he regained composure, lending Ruthan a sigh of relief as she retracted her palm from the man's shoulder and cease to grope the handle of her sword. A look of concern had befallen her now rather than surprise. "Are you alright, sir?" Ruthan spoke, the little incident gaining some extra sympathies.

"I tend to have these...attacks, you could call them. I have magic you see, and this blade," he patted the blade strapped and sheathed at his left hip where it now hung slightly over the side of their mount. "...they tend to give me some trouble here and there for one is something of a legend, and the other I have trouble with as is. Re-regardless, I do have a name that you ought call me I suppose. For now, just call me...mmm, Zray." Nodding his head he held out a hand, despite them being mounted with him behind her, and expected a shake of said hand. He thought he had done rather well, got off on a strange foot, but the right one at least...hopefully. As it was still to be seen.

Ruthan's eyes shifted to the scabbard at the man's side, lengthy it was and shining was the bare hilt. "Perhaps," said Ruthan, "perhaps we should remedy that. In the future I would suppose." She began to think that maybe it would be best to aid him a while, perhaps he was in need of extra help. "And mine," she started, prefering to remember her real name before introducing her counterfeit, as was he custom for the many years since her escape, "I am Lamia in Rigas, good sir. Would that be your entire name or a monicker?"

Nodding his head, he had recovered entirely now, the strange magical anomaly being fairly normal, afterall possessing such overabundant amounts of magical energy made one...unstable. It helped that this presence was condensed and hidden by not one veil of secrecy, but rather two: his glamours. Of course this Lamia 'indeed a monicker as well as ours...' would have no true inkling of this fact: most likely that was. "S-something of a monicker I suppose, I tend to keep my full name...to myself, perhaps I'll tell you one day. It is something of a tale." He seemed to chuckle a bit sheepishly as if he'd made some strange joke.

'Careful, delicate threads are weaved in these times of first interaction. One misstep and a blade should find itself planted in her stomach, or perhaps in ours.' Again it was Amusement, ever cautious when the game was afoot.

"R-remedy?" He was curious of what she meant, though the whole understood, the persona did not. Such was the simple nature of a singular persona.

The chuckle was rather strange to her, as if there was some 'inside' jest Ruthan was not supposed to know about. It was more of the words that were spoken that caught her attention, as the only place she had ever heard of names also being stories were from some Elfennol tribes and a fictional race of 'Ents'. Obviously, Zray was neither an elf nor a living tree. "If the day comes, perhaps." said Ruthan, seeming to have second thoughts of staying around Zray for long.

"Remedy as in training," she answered, "It is not uncommon for someone with magic like yourself to lose control." She turned away slightly at this, seeming to not enjoy some memory of her past that had crept upon her. "It usually isn't something that comes to you during normal magical training, so for all I know you could be as powerful as a Wizard by now." she said with a chuckle, joking to herself because that would be quite... Unexpected. Especially in light of their meeting.

Seeming to smile a bit, though a tad sheepish and maybe a bit ruefull, as if he regretted having made her uncomfortable. If anything he seemed sympathetic, rather understanding, but definitely not one to pity.

'You ought move faster little one...' a sigh emitted from the Skazkic persona as his insidious tendrils began to extend and coil into the persona's mind: Greater Influence.

Frowning slightly, partly at the sensation of 'its' 'mind' being intruded upon and the rest regarding her discomfort. An internal struggle had begun, and yet the woman would know nothing of it. "Hmm, y-you seem a bit. No, nevermind, my apologies, ignore my half-query please." Shaking his head he tried to look back out upon the land for while the settlement lay before them and far ahead, the natural world seemed far more intriguing to him. "I would appreciate it," he begun "...the training I mean, though it might not be so simple as it is with some." Shaking his head once more and then looking down with a slight smile and a sigh. It was as if he were almost laughing at his own foolishness.

'Better...but you will need more strength if you wish for dominance in its entirety, or even your considered assertion as the leading role in the game's capture.' Smiling, a curve of sensation invading 'Zray's' mind as he chatted, told him/it that Amusement was rather pleased despite the desparateness of their first true encounter. It was always good to keep one's first companion as they could later be invaluable. Of course, with his sinuous, nearly undetectable proddings, he was able to analyze the woman. Each moment she dwelled within their grasp was truly something unique and precious to them. Her mind-set was intriguing, unique, as was that of each being --mortal or not-- that he, it, they, she, them had encountered in their, his long, short, mediocre existence.

Ruthan's lips curved slightly in a smile at Zray's continued tentative behavior, finding it slightly amusing. Yet she also found it kind of him, this perfect stranger, to slightly care what might be going on in her mind. It was a welcome change from the normal, but soon she found her guard once again rising, as this was a stranger after all. Who can tell what he might really be thinking now? But what harm would it be to be courteous to him in kind? "No, it is perfectly alright," she said, "Though I will grant your wish if that actually is for me to ignore it." This was said in a kindness that was usually uncommon for Ruthan. She never even realized that her thoughts and actions were very much contradicting each other.

"Perhaps there is a teacher in the town ahead who may teach you, sir?" the Automaton, Reginald, had cut in at that moment, "It is my understanding that my mistress must be going soon." His voice was low and echoing off of itself as if the metal he was made of was planted into the very words he spoke.

"Most likely not, Reginald. That town may be larger than the one I resc--" she stopped herself, "The one we passed through, but most likely we would not see a sage of that sort of knowledge for many leagues. Except for me." This was very queer of her in light of past behaviors. She seemed to be volunteering herself to this. Reginald bowed low in recognition and apology of Lady Ruthan.

"Hehe..." he had recalled her jest on him being a wizard, though in some senses it was not entirely too far from the truth, or the truth within the truth, or the lies surrounding and the one final immutable fact that was them, him, it, us, he, she, our, whatever they/he/it was. "I'm sure you jest, though I cannot say I am unskilled in the ways of magic, the arcane arts and the like...sadly, my magical energy is very unstable and unpredictable. Luckily!" The last portion seemed to be the beginning of the next, but it only became apparent what he would address when he put his right hand on the grip of his blade and the left on the scabbard to pull it partway from its sheath. "...I have this and my father's training in swordsmanship, without it I'd surely have been dead back there. My magic just isn't reliable enough for me to utilize like some grand mage, but this...this marvelous tool to assist me. Although...I'm still trying to figure out its capabilities." Frowning slightly he slid it back into its sheath and let it hang at his side while he thought a moment.

The half-draw of Zray's blade caused Ruthan to jump a bit and nearly draw her own but there was a strange reluctancy. She may not have noticed, but his 'glamour' was convincing her now that he was trustworthy and not a threat. The robot was not phased, and was about to strike the man with a bolt of thunder, already pointing his cold, metal claw at Zray's face. Ruthan stopped him with a cry, leaping from the horse to pull Reginald's arm away. A bolt was cast in the sky as his claw was forced upward. "What are you doing! He has not charged me! There is no need for un due violence!" she shouted. All that was said in return was a 'as you wish, Mistress'. Ruthan appologized and asked Zray on Ruthan's behalf to continue after that.

Startled as the lightning fired off, Arkaeis practically toppled off the horse, or rather he did and managed to 'catch himself'. Or rather, his magic did, almost unbidden, answering for once his commands rather than the random whim of its natural state. He was left, the horse standing riderless, and he horizontally splayed, out levitating just above the ground by only several inches. The look on his face was of complete shock until he realized he was still grasping the hilt of his blade. Upon which he realized this, he let go and hit the ground, not hurt but scuffed up and dusty.

Getting up and brushing himself off he cursed under his breath slightly, something regarding his magic being oh so difficult and temperamental in its nature. "You now understand what I mean I suppose..." of course the persona's thoughts were interrupted suddenly and while the rather one-sided conversation only took up a single second, it was apparent that he'd been slightly dazed for but a moment. She'd likely attribute it to his fall though.

'She cannot be allowed to know the blade's truth.' the guidance of Amusement was of course ever present in the persona's periphery, in its inner audial recievers, so to speak. Afterall it was but another part of one obscenely massive mentality.

Since she'd told him to continue he nodded his head and as he picked up pace and walked beside her, on her left side and closer to Reginald, he spoke once more in continuation of his former statements.

"Well...all I know for sure about the blade is that my father barely had enough to acquire it, that it is somehow legendary in some obscure fashion, and has some grand ability or the like. I have discovered that it can focus my magic somewhat, but that seems as a side effect or something of that nature." Shrugging he cast away the thought, seeming ever-so-slightly annoyed that he could not figure the blade's true purpose despite what sounded like grand efforts taken to do just that. He was a curious person, but strangely he was incredibly honest despite talking to what amounted to essentially be a stranger. By default he must have either been incredibly stupid and naive, very simple, or so totally domineering in a hidden fashion that he held no fear for anyone he came across.

In essence, all were true, except one and a half of the descripions. He was indeed naive and somewhat simple, his power was indeed hidden and domineering, but only in part. It was however the comment of stupidity that was entirely false, for never was he unintelligent. Even his manner of speaking shunned the idea.

Ruthan was beginning to calm down while Zray spoke of his blade, allowing the feel of the earth below her elvish feet to comfort her. "It is certainly an interesting blade if it is capable of that. Are you sure there are no runes or the like that could enchant it so?" said Ruthan, curious of a sword of such fashion.

At length the three were beginning to approach the town, the stone structures rising and drawing quickly closer to them. The sun was falling closer to the horizon, well past noon by now. They certainly wouldn't reach the next facilities before nightfall, especially not at this pace. "Perhaps we should settle at the inn or else let the wolves find us at night."

Nodding in agreement the trio would head towards and eventually into the settlement, yet strangely he had not answered her question regarding runes but instead appeared to not have heard her. It seemed that his mind would often wander slightly, likely some side-effect of his strange magic, at understandable intervals. Despite this, as a whole he was doing rather well, even if he was indeed guided by the senses of many, few, or what was in its most immutable of forms (n)one.

[yoshua171]

Arsædor Zerumat "The Rose"
The Mainland

04 - Cazador del Amor

Arriving near the entrance he noticed as she took down the guards, so to speak. It made him chuckle really, 'men tend to be such simple creatures' the irony would normally be great, but Arsædor was normal man. Humming a slight tune he closed his eyes and focused, leaning against a wall casually so as not to look too suspicious, and focused on his magitek nanobots. The small things had used Taboo as their way to enter and so had swarmed, invisibly, to two of the crystal towers where they had then latched on and awaited the commands of their master. His commands came now, and very swiftly. As he stood up and walked towards the entrance blatantly, he focused on the two towers and made one wink out of function --the one further away-- and then the one right before him. He strolled in totally unimpeded, thanks to his partner in crime, it made him chuckle as a small smirk formed on his lips.

"Come Tabby, we must get out of sight before the guards swarm this location as I know they will." Now despite this, it was apparent that their trek would be fairly difficult as now that they were inside the walls it was apparent just how rich this man was. His abode was indeed marvelous, now how to infiltrate unseen? That, that was another question entirely.



Ksærnataikh'i L'shter'n "The Serpent of Ascentus"
The Mainland - Southeastern area

Epic Score - Time Will Remember Us (Gabriel Shadid)

Nodding his head and shifting somewhat Ksær found himself somewhat intrigued by this 'Goren' fellow, the half-mortal. Glancing at Shoryu as he spoke, the massive dragon nodded his similarly behemoth head and then laid it down on his paws. "I would indeed be delighted if you could do some hunting dear friend. As for you...Goren, " it was apparent that he was still working on the half-mortal's name and found the more...derogatory term, easier to say and remember. "I am at least rather grateful for your...assistance, the followers of the dark god are not to be allowed mercy," Ksær's golden draconic orbs narrowed and his tail thumped the ground once sending shivers through its body just as the slightest of winds picked up. Even the river seemed to hasten, and the trees to bend slightly as if directly effected by the dragon's anger and stark negativity.

Of course, it did not last and as Ksær again turned his attention to the half-mortal and spoke, the nature around them calmed once more "So, you say you are a worshipper of the order mmm? Intriguing for one such as yourself, I understand that you must have...died, but I do wonder how exactly you ended up as you are now."


Acriane "Eærheim".
Cthonia - Vrangr's Abode - The Meeting

Listening with a serious expression on her face, an eyebrow began to raise as the man continued what she had an inkling he had repeated before. It was almost as if he had said this to the others, the alleged challengers --as hilarious a thought that was-- which he spoke of, and that while he had this man knew that she was the highest likelihood among them.

"Hahahahaha," she laughed, blatantly in his face as he finished his little speech "...these challengers you speak of should be told to mind their words and their actions, I do not take lightly to slights against me. You can as Goren Farn, or rather, you cannot...unless of course you can readily speak to the dead." There was a dark look in her nearly black eyes, which at this point were actually an incredibly dark blue, so dark that one could almost see the stars in her eyes. Rising from her seat she focused her will on the darklings behind her and in the room, after all it was only dimly lit and so as she spoke the man would feel and hear an encroaching presence as the skittering whispers of the darklings amplified and neared him.

"I will take your little offer, and see how I may lead you and your ilk to greater depths, perhaps the Dark Ones will be so kind as to grant you a mark for finding one as worthy as myself." The whispers were incessant now, drowning out even the man's own thoughts, drowning out everything except for her voice, her sweet seductive voice. She walked to him and put her hand gently on his cheek and leaned down to his ear and whispered "I hope you are afraid of the dark...messenger, hehehe, for with me as your leader that is where we will eternally venture. For I am, afterall, Eærheim." With that she kissed his cheek, leaving a red mark, that dripped and felt the same consistency as blood, as she turned from him and walked from the room. She called back simply "Contact me in day's time when the meeting is to adjourn, no sooner." She was then gone, the darklings receding just before they touched the poor mortal's mind, and the shadows of the room were again just that: shadows.

Arsædor Zerumat

Spoiler

Acriane

Spoiler

Akraina

Spoiler

Ksærnataikh'i L'shter'n

Spoiler

[/spoiler]

[ClockworkDaisy]

"He's just lucky that we are here to plant something, not to complete an assassination. The way he looked at me, like I was meat..." Taboo shook her head, her eyes flashing as she looked to him. There was something about men that just made her soul wither, all they wanted was to consume, to take, to devour. [i]Did anyone really appreciate all she had gone through? All that she was? If there was ever someone that wouldn't just see her as a commodity.. [I]

"Camouflage? Invisibility? Run like hell?"

[Rtron]

Goren Fern - Mainland - Chatting with Shoryu and Ksaer

Goren gave a small gulp. Or would have if he wasn't a walking corpse. Clearly, the massive dragon had a distinct......distaste....for dark god followers. He had no idea how he would react to the hybrid marks he had. Preferably, well. Most likely, he would react....violently. Goren sighed. Lying would do him no good. Might as well die via being crushed to death with no one being able to say, 'he was a liar' after he died. Horribly. With lots of pain. He squared his shoulders and looked the dragon in the eye. "I'm assuming you speak of the markings all over my armor. Well, after the high priestess of the dark gods defeated me, it became clear I needed more power than I currently had. Have you heard of the term fight fire with fire? Well, that's what I've done. I've taken the mark of the Unbiased one. Now, I can challenge her on more even terms." To prove this, Goren gestured to a small thorn bush a few feet away. It grew twice it's size, with razor sharp, dagger sized, thorns. Then he turned to Ksaer. "I'd rather not die before I slay the High priestess, so, if you do try, expect a fight."

Shadowwalker - Cthonia - Preparing to leave Vortas

The man shivered as Acriane spoke to him. When she left, he didn't stop for a full minute later. Though he did not shiver from fear. He shivered from being so close to so much power. Then, he stood up with a groan, wiping the blood kiss on his mask away. "Well...that was an interesting experience." He muttered. Then he gave a chuckle. "Despite what you think, Eærheim I already possess marks of the Dark gods...though I am not fool enough to assume leadership of the Shadowwalkers myself." He exerted his will on some of the Darklings in the shadows. "Follow the Eærheim...I'm curious as to how powerful she is exactly, if she finds you simply inform her you are there to relay the message when the meeting is adjourned." He whispered, then, with the Darklings on their way, he smothered the lone candle in the room. Shrouding it in darkness. An undead came by a few moments and relight the candle. The room was empty. The Shadowwalker was gone.

Vrangr - Cthonia - Waiting for Acriane

Vrangr gave a smile as his daughter arrived from the meeting. "So. How did it go? Well I hope?" He asked. His question could have several answers, as his definition of 'well' was broad. Stretching from, but not limited to, the man made an insulting gesture/offer, so I brutally murdered him, to he offered me leadership of the entire army of Shadowwalkers.

[Closet Nerd]

Tűz Szánt Halál

Woosh! went the doors as they were sent swinging outward into the wall beside them with a crash. In stepped a tall, broad man in a robe, white streaks of death streaming out from beneath his sullen grey hood. What greeted the man in this house was a beautiful maiden of fair skin and fairer hair, streams of golden bliss flowing over her shoulders like a river from beyond gates of pearl. She was clothed in silks of silver and white, layered in a manner reminiscent of a rose near bloom. And from her was born this sweet fragrance of honey, and the sweetest kind at that.

...Or at least she would be if she wasn't murdered first. This fair lady was strung up with thick, splintered rope, hung at the neck. She was suspended like a great chandelier for all to see. Her beautiful dress was so soaked with blood that none could tell that was indeed a dress if it weren't for the way it hung about her. The woman was 'decorated' with a narrow gash spanning from her pelvis to her heart, leaving an obscene pile of entrails sprawled about on the floor beneath her. There were bits of pink flesh that still seemed to throb as if the pulse of her heart still beat through them. There was crimson splatter all around the walls. Normal men could never stand the sight without adding their own vomit to the scene, something that would make it less disgusting. The flies could not get enough of it.

"Honey, I'm home!" the man called out, tossing his hood out among a pile of bloodstained rags. He leaped forth to wall with a hook and the end of her rope, releasing the threads from it's confinement and in so doing allowed the corpse to fall into her own guts with a splat. The man stepped to the woman and lifted her almost lovingly up from her own filth. "Now, be careful! We wouldn't want that pretty face of yours to get bruised." he lifted her lifeless lips to his and at length pulled her back. She was dropped back into her flesh as the suddenly sickened man paroosed the house.

It was a run down hovel of what used to be a two story inn for the richer guests of this town they, or he presently, was in. It was old, shabby and grey. The only light entering now was the moonlight stabbing inward from a large wound in the ceiling which pierced the roof and the floor above, leaving a pile of rubble in it's wake. There were several trashed paintings and many missing bits of wood. Creaking noises were incessant as the house was constantly shifting to and fro by it's weight upon it's too few and too far struggling props. Outside were a few beaten and strangled trees, each of which had surely been tortured by some hindrance long before and during their deaths.

Szant saw only a great house fit for many guests and outings for any formal occasion. It was filled with riches, gold and silver, spread about everywhere on the walls and floors. There was a stained window in the ceiling letting in the light in many wondrous colors. Szant's beauty stood proud before him in these rich halls adorned in the best of treasures and clad in a lovely wedding dress just for his delight. "Tuz Szant Halal!" he proclaimed in thought, "This is no place for guests even yet! Repair this cave of a house before they arrive!"

The man had a shadow looming over his face as these brief thoughts were about him, a shadow that became lost as he soon gazed up into the gash of the building. From behind his waist he fingered the hilt of his blade as he pondered. Suddenly he drew a large sword entirely stained in black with a splash of red, all blood, wet and dry alike. It was once an Ascentian brand, in a different time it would have gleamed like diamonds. Now it was wholly corrupted to this thing's whims.

The Golden Bolt was swung violently into the air. It, no he, was poised to the roof and a blast of shining diamonds was sent on it. The roof has crumbled and already reformed into a stained window of the sky to accompany the other. Then after more GLORIOUS booms there were six all in a row, two on either wall at the sides. The guests would be pleased, indeed.

This demented thing chuckled to himself in his victory and put away the hideous blade. The laugh was hoarse and decayed as if escaping through the teeth of a corpse. It only grew louder as it was evident the man was 'entertaining' himself with thoughts of his would be guests. He skipped once out the door and slammed fast the doors of his little hovel and turned to the village he was surrounded in.

[ooc: part one of Szant's lone intro]