@TaroMaster4@ZayZe

Hearing the fighting going on in the back, Grukk was wondering if they needed help but ever since becoming a hired sword, he usually would not get into any tussle unless he's hired to help, otherwise.....he'll sit back and enjoy the show. Looking over at the built elf who wanted to speak with him earlier, Grukk couldn't help but think about the offer and why he would think Grukk would be good enough to help him. Before Grukk could be helped by the dwarf, he asked the built elf a question. What is your name?

Now, with the young boy looking over at Grukk and the built elf, Grukk looked the boy up and down, almost wanting to laugh from the idea that the boy wanted to team with them. Grukk did not agree to help them yet but this was a pleasant surprise that this human boy would be brave enough to join them. Giving a sigh Why do you need my help boy? you look in the direction as if you want to join the fight.... he claimed as a woman who looked to be a archer came into the shop as well, looking on at her, she went to join the fray.

@King Tai

Jag

---

He wasn't too intimidated easily, but this guy was monstrous. Jag was stronger than about 4 average man combined, he could only imagine the kind of strength this guy possessed. If he wanted to do what he needed, he would need more than just pure strength in his party. Maybe someone who could heal, somebody to take care of the party. So if Jag could recruit this guy, and if he is loyal as hell, then maybe he could make progress in his ventures of accomplishing his ambitions. Someone had to be by his side, someone who people don't want to go near mess or around with. What's a better bodyguard and friend? "I'm Jag. You?" He said with a slight smile, sticking his arm out for a polite handshake with the huge beast of an orc.

@TaroMaster4A boy approached saying he'd buy a sword! "Yeah!" He exclaimed with surprise, then pausing, putting his hand on his chin scratching it, "Is there any catch?" He asked suspiciously. He didn't want to be in debt to anybody, but if he could easily get a good sword, then that'd just be all the better.

Oprik was quick to his steadying feet as the grey clouds approached his apparent allies and he, he threw his useless baton aside and pounded his muscular chest with his gloved fists, the lapping tide behind the dams was beginning to spill over the top, soon he would be enraged. The staff wielding man from before had strode in front of him, protecting him while he regained his stance. The wooden bands around his arm clicked together in rapid succession as he brought his staff down in a strange motion.

The staff struck the narrow shoulder of the first man, a surprising attack but certainly not a lethal one, he dodged its follow up and pounced at Oprik who leapt up to meet him. Both surging through the air, Oprik's right fist clenched tight and his arm tensed, ready to snap forward into his foe. His teeth were clenched together, his eyes beginning to fade into a dull red, as the grey clad man came toward him in the air everything seemed to slow down, the static air was being pushed past his face as he came.

This air pushed at his cowl and suddenly his face was revealed. That is to say, if there was a face there, it would have been revealed - but there was not. A strange corporeal phantom occupied the grey padded armour, with eyes of obsidian and no features to speak of. Its exterior was a pale blue opaque gas and inside that danced many small blots of silver liquid. It made no dent to Oprik's intent however, he was still ready to lay into its not-face.

All of a sudden the air of slowed time diminished and Oprik's chance was gone, a single arrow came soaring toward the two and struck the grey thing down, it's gaseous form instantly dispersed into the surroundings and the clothing crumpled to the floor. The other thing, as they had seemed identical, was being mauled by the feline beast. Just as its twin had, it disappeared in a hiss and the clothing fell to the ground limply.

---

Cario watched on as his two servants charged into the fray, spirit blades gleaming as they approached their foes. It was unfortunate that there was a spell caster, it disrupted his plans significantly. A druid it would seem, and a monk by the look of modesty in his appearance. The creature was a nice touch though, he thought, adding a little wild chance to this so far plain encounter.

With a slight wave of his Drow sword, one of his grey servants leapt in between him and this conjured beast, taking the entirety of its vicious claws and fangs. A female archer stood at the door, letting an arrow loose into the other grey, it dissipated back to its master. The other soon fell too, with a hiss it was gone.

The beast, having dealt with its first foe, leapt swiftly towards Cario in his brightly coloured apparel. He sent his left foot back at an angle and ducked his good knee into a bend, raising his sword point up to meet its chest. With a growl one of its sharp claws caught his pale face and ripped the flesh, then with a whimper it fell cold on his blade. With the blink of an eye its form was gone and the weight on his arm lifted.

His jaw bone was exposed, its claws had dug deep and left many gouged wounds behind, he smiled now. It was an eerie smile, one that would make a good man feel guilty, his teeth were bloodied and his lips now crimson, the muscles of his right jaw shifted and pulled around his stainless white bone, blood pooling and swirling down his face.

"Do you know who I am?" They would know, soon enough.

---

Combat Post - Loading Area. 1v4, 3 grey spirits defeated. Cario still stands. Seki, Oprik, Keyla & 'Man' opposing. @SouffleGirl123@The Harbinger of Ferocity@Gentlemanvaultboy

Keyla nocked another arrow, pulling it back along with the string of her bow. Not that it was any use. The grey men had all dissipated. She turned her body toward the man who had earlier blocked her path with a wagon, her nocked arrow in his direction but in the instance before it's release the man was attacked. The young archer lowered her bow slightly.

The death of the beast happened in the blink of an eye, falling upon its enemy's blade. The opposing man had not come out unscathed, his jaw bone was exposed through a large slit in his face. He was smiling now. A smile that Keyla, through her experience of years living on the streets, knew was going to lead to danger. She watched the blood drip down his face.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked the crowd. Keyla looked around the room, others may possibly know, but not she. In her years on the street folklore and history and such trivia as who-is-whom had been replaced with forging and survival skills.

"If you are so proud," She calls out, "Why don't you spare us the liberty of guessing and inform us yourself?" she says with the rise of her left eyebrow.

@Shade

The immediate response of "No," was what the man uttered, gesturing changing slightly to alter the spell of which he had been preparing, "But I know now nothing is as it seems."

In spite of his flesh wound, the man continued the spell, having assessed the situation once more for what it really seemed; the phantasms were no idle thing, frail, but only at this hour of light and against readied foes. The addition of a young lady of the bow no less changed the plan of approach some, but it was a welcome change - no normal man could so casually shrug off the deep end as this one did, not without a darker force at work... magical at the very least.

His spell prepared and only delayed in brief, the common man, with his ragged brown cloth tinged crimson, splayed his fingers forth toward the nightmarish smile of the drow-elf; a magic determined to be no idle threat to anyone bearing metal. A dim orange glow of rising heat began radiating from the chain mail and sword itself, of which furthered to slowly rise in intensity - threatening becoming searing and white hot in moments.

The leopard, having been banished to ether once more, faded away like this mist it was before, leaving the orc and Man of the Ways clear line to the enemy. It was in this time the man prepared but another spell - one much more defensive.

Hands taking on a faint golden aura, they gestured more in rolling, turning motions that were warding the body.

@Shade

Cario's bloody lips opened to speak, just as the spell caster sent a burning heat his way. His head flew back and his arms were thrown wide as he screamed in shock, his neck twisting back as his spine tingled, steam and the smell of burnt flesh began to seep out from between his scales. In his shock his sword clattered to the ground, sparks flying as it pinged off the rocky surface to his feet. Composing himself he snapped his neck back and opened his eyes with a wider grin than before, the cut on his jaw was pulled wider.

His eyes were red and blood dripped from them too now, red tears streaking his face. Black and crimson hung around his neck in a necklace of burnt skin, still he grinned brightly. Looking at his hand, he laughed and shook it as one does when they burn their hand, then he presented to the druid and the others mockingly.

"Ouch."

Dropping his hand to his side once more, he bent down to pick up his sword, taking the still hot hilt in his singed fingers he gripped it tightly. As he straightened up he took something from his pocket and held it in his free hand. He patted himself down, flicking a crisped flake of skin from his shoulder. It seemed he was uncomfortable, so he stretched back and unbuckled his chest armour, letting it drop to the floor in a clattering crescendo.

Perhaps now they would see. His slender but none the less strong body was burnt, every inch of it below the neck. Charred like over cooked meat, strips of skin peeling at the edges and fleshy blots here and there. Though it was not that that defined him, it was his tattoos. From his chest to his wrists and hips he was decorated in ancient and intricate demonic symbols. For any with knowledge of the Gods, they would see one symbol repeated throughout - Nerull, The Foe Reaper, The Dark Blade, The God of Death.

With a whip of his hand Cario threw forth a twisting dark bolt of energy at the now warded druid, the source of this power coming from the Black Seed that was clenched in his fist. His bodies burning flesh began to blacken further, his blood loosing its colour and his tattoos glowed a deep red.

"I AM THE SERVANT OF MY DARK LORD!"

Nerull was the God that God's feared, the curse that plagued every nation. To a druid he was the personified enemy of life itself, to a monk he was something to fear intensely. Cario was indeed a blade smith, but he did not sell his goods without hidden purpose. Every blade he made was made to kill, embedded with Nerull's essence, it would take a strong mind to withstand his influence once they held the weapon in hand.

Every death at the hands of such weapons was a spirit forced to serve the Death God, Cario was a slave driver of sorts, a servant that Nerull had granted powers beyond those of a mortal drow.

Keyla watched the odd display, eyes wide. It was not a sight you saw often. Or at all. Keyla had seen some extraordinarily odd things but this was something unknown to her. The Gods. Yes she had heard concepts of them but never really believed in their existence. She never knew enough to have reason too until she had become too insistence in the lack of their existence. Even if there were Gods what had they done for her despite grant her ill-will? Granted, she had found a family but her life had been too scarred in the first place to grant them mercy.

She gave a small laugh, mentally concluding this man was a sorcerer of some description.

"Sir, I do not know what you are playing at but the Gods cease to exist. They are illusions planted into the minds of people but you, sir, you are showing the signs of something not... normal"

The air around Seki began to fill with voices as the man burned. Not loud voices, but not whispers. The word were indistinct, as though the speakers were impossible far away. It was strange. They didn't usually react like this even when he was in mortal peril, and there was an uncommon tremble to their voices that their pride would never allow to be heard.

As the drows armor clattered to the ground he understood. They were uneasy in the presence of any greater god, but this one? Even other greater gods feared this one. As the bolt of darkness streaked past his he felt every disc on his arms tremble. This battle, in this nice town on this nice morning in this nice little blacksmith shop, was a battle in which his very soul was at stake.

All the more reason to help bring it to an end. He moved forward, sweeping his staff through the air toward the drows clenched hand. If what was in that hand had allowed him to throw that darkness he intended to break that hand so it couldn't happen again.

@King Tai @ZayZe

As Grukk asked James about his name and ability James looked back at the tall orc to reply. "My name is James Cabuelo, I am head chef to the mayor of this city as of now. But I really want to be able to learn more about cooking during my travels and experience the world! As for my ability I use White Magic meaning Healing and Light element spells. The reason I ask for your help is simply due to my lack of strength and close combat experience, I believe a team for all three of us would be beneficial to us all."

Looking over to the man Jag as James smiled saying "As for your sword that's my way of making things up to you."

Hearing words he wished he didn't hear about a dark lord from outside. "No! That can't be!" James said as he ran out the door seeing the site before him. It was true, A servant of Nerull had appeared before the Chosen of Light! James despite not telling the others about his fate as chosen had told them about his powers. But James felt afraid as he couldn't help but shiver and shake at this site. James was chosen but also still a young boy. James needed to feel safe indoors next to these strong people he just didn't feel cut out to be chosen now that something like this was happening. "This can't be happening, it can't!"

Alissa came back from a little travel trough the mountains and looked around. The town hadn't changed at all and she smiled while seeing everyone doing their job. She walked trough the streets and went home so she could drop of her new found treasures and when she just wanted to sit down for a while, a few children of the neighborhood rushed in. ''Hey hey hey, little ones.. You guys should knock first'' Alissa said but smiled. ''Snow! Do you wanna play outside with us? We are gonna do hide and seek!'' a boy asked. Alissa thought about it, or did like she was thinking but then with a big smile she nodded. ''Of course!'' she said.

They all went outside and Alissa locked her door. Then she followed the children to the playground and she started to count. ''1.. 2.. 3.. 4..'' she said out loud while her eyes where closed. Alissa, or Snow for most children, always played with them. She had learned from her parents to be nice and always smile, it would help and bring you great new friends and it had been true. All the children in town knew Snow and was her friend. ''13..14...15...16...17..18....19.....20!!! Who isn't hidden will be seen!'' Snow called and she opened her eyes.

@BeautifulSnow

The children hid, behind barrels and in the dark shadows that the sun was making. The noon breeze was chilled but not cold, carrying with it the fresh salt spray of the sea. Snow counted, quietly to herself at first, exclaiming loudly towards the end to give any ill faring participants a rushed hiding place.

Opening her eyes she had to blink a few time, a dark figure stood in front of her, hooded and cloaked. The sun was blocked out, and all seemed a bit dreary and down. It seemed the bird song and playful music of the trade market was lost in the long garments this person wore. This was Wain, the undead elf, but Snow knew not of this.

@Shade

Once Alissa had done the counting and opened her eyes, she saw a in dark clothes and cloak wearing person standing in front of her. She frowned and looked around. ''Ehm.. Hello?'' she asked once she looked back at the person. ''I am in the middle of a game at the moment but.. Ehm.. Can I help you?'' she asked. She was a bit wary but this was more because she didn't know the person ánd her equipment were at her little house.

Alissa then looked around again and saw one of the children. ''Okay, Joey, I saw you.. Come out'' she said. The kid walked over but stopped at seeing the man. ''Snow?'' he said, he sounded scared and that made Alissa go on alert. Did this person do something wrong with the children when she was away? ''It's okay, remember.. It is okay to be scared, but better to get over it.. I will always protect you'' she said. Joey nodded and ran over to Snow, he clang himself to her leg like a son would do to his mother. Alissa smiled, Joey was a orphan and she had started to take care of him after the first day they had met. Now, he always said that she was his big sister. The boy was a human, but she didn't mind it at all. She looked back at the dark person. ''Can you at least tell me your name? Or are you just here to kill the game?'' she asked.

@ZayZe@TaroMaster4

With the built elf introducing himself, Grukk couldn't help but wonder...how in the hell did he get himself that big. Most elves that his tribe battled against, were smaller..or let's say...more slimmer but this here...this guy looked like he could probably throw someone by their ankles if need be but Grukk still felt that he was stronger than the built elf even though the elf would have other traits that even Grukk lacked. With the guy telling him his name, he introduced himself as well, bringing his huge arm up to shake hands with Jag My name is Grukk... he simply said but did not display a smile and even if he did, could anyone tell if it was a smile?

When Jmaes introduced himself, Grukk told the boy his name as well and listened to the boy's explanation of needing to hire him. Are you sure you can handle what is out there? If I join you, what would you give me for payment because I demand payment first... simply asking to hear what his answer would be.

@BeautifulSnow

With his crackling tone that made even him cringe slightly, Wain spoke through his black teeth behind his hood. "Sorry to interrupt your...whatever this is, could you point me to the local hospital?" He gestured around him, unsure of where to go and who to talk to, this female seemed suitable to ask. She was young for a mother of so many, only a wench could bear some many children, with her youth he could see why that would happen.

Were he 500 years younger he would have ruffled the child's hair heartily and given her an ambiguous wink, but instead he stood there, stooped and old, awaiting an answer.

@Shade

Snow could see some of his face, though he had it hidden very well. ''Ehm.. The Hospital..'' she said. ''I am terrible with giving direction.. Joey, gather up your friends and go to my house okay?'' she said. Joey nodded and ran off. ''He is.. ehm.. A orphan, I take care of him when he needs it, the other are the children of the neighborhood'' she said. She actually didn't know why she was explaining herself, she didn't need to do that.

''Ehm.. It's.. This way'' she said and pointed to the main street. ''Let's go, I would say'' she said and started walking when Joey came running back. ''Your keys?'' he asked. ''Oh, no breaking and entering?'' Alissa asked. ''Nope.. I wanna be nice for my sis'' he said. ''Thank you little man..'' She said and gave him the keys. ''Your safe?'' Joey suddenly asked. ''Joey! Just because he might look a little dark.. Doesn't mean he is a mean person'' she said and squatted. ''I don't wanna lose you..'' Joey said. ''Don't worry.. I am a elf, we can fight..'' she said and pointed at her pointy ears. She smiled and gave the boy a hug. ''Now go home, get you and your friends something to drink'' she said. Joey nodded. ''Okay'' he said and ran of.

Alissa got up again. ''I am sorry.. He had grown fond of me.. And.. Yeah..'' she said. ''But he didn't mean to offend you.. Sir.. Ehm.. May I know your name?'' she asked as she started walking again. She then thought about why he would tell her his name if he didn't know hers. '' My name is Alissa.. Most people call me Snow though'' She said.

The sickly, scalding sear akin to flesh upon open flames crackled to life in the air which came with it an odor most foul; while repugnant alone in thought - what just transpired to the drow-elf's physical form as he willingly endured the intense white heat of the glowing metal - his vileness and evil bled through him more so. Visibly allowing loose pieces of his burnt form to fall about him like shriveled leaves, he was horribly disfigured by any mortal standard - requiring magical aid if he were to ever again appear as he did prior. The sword landing with a cascade of glittering sparks at his feet, audibly crackling as the two opposed magics fought at one another, he composed himself after a few moments of interlude.

Still this man of dark intent persisted in the face of his immense suffering, but it soon became clear why.

He was a mortal man, but gripped in something that was certainly not; Nerull, the Mockery - the Enemy of Life. For all the calm and peace that befell creatures when their time ran short, Nerull was the sole force to rip it away as a cruel gesture of power... but it was the tattoos that spoke a thousand words. Each tattoo revealed by his lack of armor displayed some greater sacrifice of self - or another - to his master.

All this man was, was no more himself - just a puppet of a dark god.

Abjuration shielding his form as best it could, the man found himself taking the brunt of the onslaught of darkness cast forth from the drow's hand; its terribleness dazing him briefly. For all his endurance and willpower, the sheer darkness channeled was enough to penetrate the barrier against evil and still inflict bodily damage to the man. Taking a step back, as if pushed at a distance, he steadied himself, resting slightly in a hunch - hand braced lightly to a wall.

The naiveness, or outright denial, of the girl beside the humble man, whose arm was numb from pain and settled in blood, was enough to spur him to words while he straightened his form to standing; the debilitating blackness having worn off the worst of its effects.

"Enough prattle..." He began mystic gestures, calling upon one of the greatest of powers he held knowledge of, "Aid the man and the orc - buy us time, woman."

The man of the staff, having shaken free of the turn of events, lashed out with a fearsome and surprise blow of his choice weapon at Cario's hand of which bore the Dark Seed; if he could break his hold, the darkness' might - Nerull's might - would ebb from this blacksmith briefly in scope. It was a multiplier of force that needed to be addressed if there was any hope to put this battle behind them with no casualties aside from Cario's.

After all, both of the commoner's hands grew alight with an amalgamation of orange and golden flames, the latter of which seethed with sacred energy while the former burned bright in traditional flame. Raising both palms from his sides in a sweeping motion he prepared his spell and so they grew far more intense and vivid.

But... there proved to be a distraction beside the druid now in the form of a young boy of bright blonde hair and perhaps brighter eyes who wedged his way between the door and the conflict. This complicated matters some, driving the no longer mere commoner to sidestep slightly, putting himself before the human as his action remained ever readied for the opening it needed.

Gritting his teeth, he muttered incoherently - the situation escalating too quickly for but a lone Fang of the Wild to handle; at least the much needed assistance was here in part.

@Shade@Gentlemanvaultboy@SouffleGirl123@TaroMaster4

With an extension of his deeply inked arm, Cario grabbed the wooden staff that descended upon him, catching it with the hand that was occupied by the Black Seed. Squeezing hard he felt the seed press against the wood, he gazed into the monks eyes as horror struck him, the staff began to decay age and crack in his grasp. Twisting his hips and ducking down Cario flung the withering staff, along with the helpless monk at the end of it, across the stone floor with unreal strength.

Taking his attention from the mortal man, he turned to see a flaming rage growing in the spell casters hands. A young man approached from the door, a shining in Cario's third eye revealed his holy presences of light. It was now himself against these five, he thought himself strong enough to escape this feud victorious, but risk was not necessary. The Orc was now on his large feet, the God worshipping monk too. Female archer with an arrow notched, spell caster preparing a fiery onslaught. Then the blonde young man. Perhaps it was best to take this fight to a realm he knew.

Calmly Cario allowed the Black Seed to roll to the floor, it emitted a grey smoke, occasional twitching and rolling over as if possessed. With a brisk rise and fall of his still armoured leg, he crunched his boot down onto it. In an explosion of darkness his leg was encapsulated by an inky mass of black, rising up his body and over his burnt tattooed body with demonic speed. Suddenly it was in every crevice of his body, crawling down his throat and creeping past his eyes.

In a deep voice, without his lips uttering a syllable, Cario spoke in an abyssal, deep voice.

Shall we take this fight else where?

Cario screamed with horrific volume and pitch and rose from the ground, hovering above the stone with all his extremities pointed and stretched wide. As his screaming continued the ink began to fly from his body and stick to the others, as it struck their bodies they were enveloped in a dark mist, a shell of grey.

Suddenly it ended, and they were all as they had been. There they stood now, in a graveyard of midnight, of endless tombstones and stone blocks, named and unnamed. The sky was a deep purple dotted with black stars and streaking red veins, ten moons hung in the canvas, reds, oranges and blues.

This was a realm of death, and Cario felt at home.

@BeautifulSnow

Wain smiled vaguely through his tar teeth, offense? Ha. No one could offend him, his very being offended him already. He strode beside the female, looming over her even in his hunched posture, his dark gown dragging across the floor.

"No offense taken. I am Wain and -" As Wain began he was speaking blandly with little emotion but suddenly his 'and' was hurried as he had to reach up and stop a chunk of rotten skin from falling off his face. "Erm, and - and I am in a hurry." He quickly pushed it back into place, slowing his pace in concentration. The female began to lead to far forward so he stumbled over himself to catch up with her.

"Do you know if, perhaps, the hospital has a supply of Narvri Berry?" Wain quickened his pace, his chain boots clanging off the cobbled street as they walked, the berries were key. Without them the 'severe flaking' - as the voodoo doctor called it - would not stop.

The inkiness, as it desperately grasped out to envelop the ragged man, recoiled in pain at the light of the divine flames - a spell sanctified by no god, but the pure divinity of nature itself in the form of sacred fire - faded and fought as it rolled in a turbulent dusky mist, altering the world around into a realm unfamiliar; a plane of infinite death, of infinite hopelessness.

Revealed once more, the spellcaster swung wide his hand, fingers spreading and allowing the fire to cut through the opposing magic, granting him sight in brief. Glancing to one shoulder and the next, he found himself among innumerable headstones and a sea of despair in a demiplane of wickedness and utter decay. All here was vile, but nothing in it could compare to the fervor the mantled man had in contempt for the once swordsmith, Cario; one so lost and diluted as to sink his soul to this pit by choice. It was here the man called up both hands before him and then motioned wide, uttering his retort.

"If you are so eager to serve your lord..." The fiery glow to his hands winked out of existence in an instant, "... then join him in demise."

A column of tremendous gold and natural flame appeared from the unfathomably distant heavens above, drawn across the planar boundaries by magical calling. No wider than ten feet, the blaze launched itself like a shooting star dropped from the deep midnight sky, centered upon Cario's armorless body and sought to devour him with its pillar-like form.

"Now is your chance - strike him down and let us be done with this unholy place!" The commoner turned and hastened between the tombstones, stepping atop some, throwing himself over others; the agility he bore only furthered the belief that he was no mere mage, either.

Coming to a rest beside the youth, the battered commoner took a moment to provide some lesser gesture and ease the wound upon his shoulder and that within his soul. The damage to himself, while not tremendous, was wearing on him as the increasing escalation was draining his repertoire of magical energy for the day and while this injury would now rapidly heal, he wondered how much more abuse the drow-elf could truly withstand. The answer, he hoped - the bleeding immediately ceasing from his shoulder - would come sooner.

He did not wish his own cover revealed, not so, not yet.

But if the next onslaught of attacks by those pulled here failed, there would be no choice but to make use of the greatest assets he had remaining - all other consequence be damned.

@Shade@TaroMaster4@Gentlemanvaultboy@SouffleGirl123