Bluetommy

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

(Darlien Garandinar, Streets of Artis Port, Praelium)

Darlien laughed at the Praelian's response to his taunting. But that laugh quickly turned into a scream of horror as he failed to notice the lightning in time. He managed to get his blade up just in time to block, but it was barely any help. His entire body seethed and burned as the electricity tore into him. He screamed as his footing became less and less secure, his mind racing to find a way out.

I can get out of this, I just need to be smart, I came in too cocky, I realize that now, but this is just an atta- he screamed as his sword flew to the side and he took the full force of the blast.

Darlien, despite his body screaming in agony, managed to secure his footing, beginning to cast a spell, but being cut off as the blast again shook his whole body. He couldn't see, he couldn't smell, all he could do was feel, and all he could feel was agony. His chest suddenly lost all feeling with a bang, and a flying chunk of flesh solved that riddle for him.

He stopped thinking, he stopped breathing, and he stopped fighting.

Darlien was thrown back by the force of the spell. His body horrifically mangled by the lightning. His eyes were fried by the lightning, and he could no longer see, but for some reason, he could see clearer than ever. The flames surrounding him, the bright flash driving itself into his chest, the cloud of smoke forming in the air from the buildings and his body, the... female face of the Dominus... if he wasn't dying, it would have been prime joke fodder.

Perhaps he had been too cocky, too youthful, too quick to move. He should have waited, curse his impatience.

....

Huh? Darlien swore he heard something, other than his liver detonating into a mess of chunks and gore.

^{the fuck were you thinking?}

Okay, he definitely heard something that time.

"Hey, uh, Darlien? It's dad... hey son... wha-..." The phantom that seemed to be an etherial form of his father sighed exasperatedly.

Dad?

"Yeah, uh, it's dad, so... I was a powerful enough mage that I could look into the future a little bit and send you this when I died... might be black magic. Well, anyways... I just... what in god's name were you thinking?"

I-I was avenging you, I was getting revenge for your death, like a good son would.

"I didn't need... Listen, if there is an afterlife I'll talk to you there."

There won't be.

"Eugh." He half-grunted-half-sighed. Then, he was gone. Just in time for Darlien to crash through the wall of a burning barn, which then proceeded to collapse on top of him. Only an arm managed to poke its way out of the rubble, which stopped burning, as the source of the flame finally expired.

"Damn."

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

"What just happened and why?"

Pelionis e'Oranth (Side)

---

Lord Pelionis, Advisory General.

---

Pelionis is a Gnomish lord, and among the oldest and wisest gnomes. His possessions are on the outskirts of Oranth, from which he takes his last name. His lands involve a tavern and a few huts, with around fifty gnomes who work as brewers and fishermen. Pelionis received this land as a result of his position in the personal entourage of Nuncio e'Dux, current king Gennio's father.

As gnomes age quickly, the fact that Pelionis has survived as long as he has is quite exceptional. Pelionis attributes it to exercise and a good diet, but that doesn't stop witchcraft accusations, all of which Pelionis meets with confusion and astonishment.

Pelionis' life prior to his lordship is dry and uninteresting, born in Dux, moved to Oranth, joined the navy, showed talent, was promoted to generalship, became part of his king's circle, retired upon his death and re-entered the navy on a whim.

Gnomes give birth to litters of five children, and Pelionis as a result has fifteen children, he isn't pleased in the slightest. The last five were not intentional, but don't tell them that.

Appearance

---

Pelionis, as an elder gnome, is wrinkled and with spots on his lower arms. Gnomes' skin also grays as they age, and as a result Pelionis is a light gray from head to toe. His hair is wild and uncontrollable, and he has just stopped trying to make it look nice, instead wearing a wild mane that changes from day to day. He dresses in tight, sharp, tailored clothing, the only way his wealth truly shows. He is even shorter than the average gnome at a tiny two foot five inches, and his now adult children tower over him, most a full head taller.

Pelionis formerly wore a full beard, much like most of the other gnome lords in Benaduza, but in later years he has started to shave due to his belief that he would look smarter without it, he often reaches to stroke where his beard once was, only to touch air.

He's gaunt and with an elderly shriveling to every part of him, but he still stands upright and carries himself with pride, no matter what situation he finds himself in.

Skills

Pelionis was once a lawyer prior to joining the navy, and as a result is very persuasive and quite the wordsmith, able to talk his way out of quite a large number of situations. He was taught the basics in melee combat when he volunteered, but as he had bought his way into the officer corps, his training is both rusty and incredibly basic, and he would not fare well in a fight with a skilled opponent.

Pelionis is an advisory general for a reason, and has a talent for strategy both naval and land-based, but he commands from the back, and rarely ends up fighting.

Character

---

Pelionis is quiet, self-deprecating, and often befuddled by the situations he finds himself in, it's not that he's unintelligent, he just seems to have some sort of magnet that attracts oddities, not that he was going to complain, he's not a complainer, though he is snarky and prone to cracking wise.

Pelionis is a caring father, but he doesn't care much about anyone else, and is openly hostile to anyone who dares call him old. He has an aversion to change, and hates trying new things, as a result, he never learned the human languages, and speaks gnomish exclusively, though he is taking lessons on the king's orders. Pelionis is loyal and will not falter from his king's orders, no matter his own opinion on them, he does have some lines he refuses to cross, such as the killing of civilians or anything unable to defend itself.

Other Information

---

Age: 40
Likes: His family, his kingdom, working, money, people who leave him alone
Dislikes: Working, people who talk too much, not earning money, fighting.

Wot?

"What just happened and why?"

Pelionis e'Oranth (Side)

---

Lord Pelionis, Advisory General.

---

Pelionis is a Gnomish lord, and among the oldest and wisest gnomes. His possessions are on the outskirts of Oranth, from which he takes his last name. His lands involve a tavern and a few huts, with around fifty gnomes who work as brewers and fishermen. Pelionis received this land as a result of his position in the personal entourage of Nuncio e'Dux, current king Gennio's father.

As gnomes age quickly, the fact that Pelionis has survived as long as he has is quite exceptional. Pelionis attributes it to exercise and a good diet, but that doesn't stop witchcraft accusations, all of which Pelionis meets with confusion and astonishment.

Pelionis' life prior to his lordship is dry and uninteresting, born in Dux, moved to Oranth, joined the navy, showed talent, was promoted to generalship, became part of his king's circle, retired upon his death and re-entered the navy on a whim.

Gnomes give birth to litters of five children, and Pelionis as a result has fifteen children, he isn't pleased in the slightest. The last five were not intentional, but don't tell them that.

Appearance

---

Pelionis, as an elder gnome, is wrinkled and with spots on his lower arms. Gnomes' skin also grays as they age, and as a result Pelionis is a light gray from head to toe. His hair is wild and uncontrollable, and he has just stopped trying to make it look nice, instead wearing a wild mane that changes from day to day. He dresses in tight, sharp, tailored clothing, the only way his wealth truly shows. He is even shorter than the average gnome at a tiny two foot five inches, and his now adult children tower over him, most a full head taller.

Pelionis formerly wore a full beard, much like most of the other gnome lords in Benaduza, but in later years he has started to shave due to his belief that he would look smarter without it, he often reaches to stroke where his beard once was, only to touch air.

He's gaunt and with an elderly shriveling to every part of him, but he still stands upright and carries himself with pride, no matter what situation he finds himself in.

Skills

Pelionis was once a lawyer prior to joining the navy, and as a result is very persuasive and quite the wordsmith, able to talk his way out of quite a large number of situations. He was taught the basics in melee combat when he volunteered, but as he had bought his way into the officer corps, his training is both rusty and incredibly basic, and he would not fare well in a fight with a skilled opponent.

Pelionis is an advisory general for a reason, and has a talent for strategy both naval and land-based, but he commands from the back, and rarely ends up fighting.

Character

---

Pelionis is quiet, self-deprecating, and often befuddled by the situations he finds himself in, it's not that he's unintelligent, he just seems to have some sort of magnet that attracts oddities, not that he was going to complain, he's not a complainer, though he is snarky and prone to cracking wise.

Pelionis is a caring father, but he doesn't care much about anyone else, and is openly hostile to anyone who dares call him old. He has an aversion to change, and hates trying new things, as a result, he never learned the human languages, and speaks gnomish exclusively, though he is taking lessons on the king's orders. Pelionis is loyal and will not falter from his king's orders, no matter his own opinion on them, he does have some lines he refuses to cross, such as the killing of civilians or anything unable to defend itself.

Other Information

---

Age: 40
Likes: His family, his kingdom, working, money, people who leave him alone
Dislikes: Working, people who talk too much, not earning money, fighting.

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

(Darlien Garandinar, Streets of Artis Port, Praelium)

Darlien pushed himself up with shock in his eyes, he'd hit! And they looked hurt! He pulled himself out of the mess he'd created with his attack and watched as the Dominus stood. He shook off his dazed expression and gave a focused glare. He had to stay focused, he took one eye off them and he would take another brutal attack. They spoke to him again, clarifying her earlier statement, calling his mission a fool's errand. He glared at them in response, he didn't care what they thought, he would do his duty to his parents, he knew that well enough.

Then they shot forth, one hand glowing purple, the other shooting lightning. They really liked lightning, didn't they? Not his favorite, but it was effective, he guessed. He really didn't want any part of either, so he leapt back, leaping his way over the impact crater and landing on the other side, where he would have more time to see her coming, and react accordingly.

He flashed his blade and spun it in his hand, holding his other in front of his face.

"You think it's so simple?" He snickered. "You Praelians are rather simple folk aren't you? I don't care how foolish my errand seems, I already know it will succeed," he clenched his fist, allowing it to be consumed in flame.

He flourished and pointed his sword at the dominus.

"I am Darlien Garandinar, son of Decus Garandinar, he who killed two of your mages alone," he pounded his chest. "And I will avenge my father, and my mother, no matter how many Praelians I have to kill!" He screamed, still spinning his blade, though now it was more out of anger than boredom. The Dominus could strike in an instant, and he watched them carefully for any movements.

He was in danger no matter where he was, one wrong move and he could be dead. But he still had to do something, he couldn't just sit there and wait for them to kill him. He decided to make his move now.

"Are you scared? Dominus? Can you feel fear? Are you just some puppet of flesh for the Tyrannis to control? To do his dirty work?" He taunted. Hopefully he could drive the dominus into frustration or anger, either would perhaps lead to a sloppier attack... or an incredibly powerful one that he'd be hard pressed to dodge, but sometimes you had to take gambles.

"Do you bleed? Or is it some fluid constructed in a lab made of my father's ground up bones?! I bet you've so many scars you look like a toy under those robes, are they to hide your deformities? Or just to hide the souls you hold captive, ready to be harnessed to forge another identical one of you? Show me your face, dog! If you even have one! You smell like death if she slept with pestilence, and you walk like your leg has been torn from your body and reattached with string! As I'm sure it has, more times than you remember. Do you even remember your name? Do you have a name? Or do you have a number? Because that's all you are to them, a number, replaceable, like my father!" He roared, his fist subconsciously becoming consumed in flame.

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

(Darlien Garandinar, Streets of Artis Port, Praelium)

Darlien watched his blast travel ever closer to the Dominus, and get absorbed by a warding spell. He had neglected to learn any more than the basic forms of warding, he could negate weak spells but was unable to do any more than dampen the power of stronger ones. His sword was enchanted though, and with its help, he could block more spells.

The dominus spoke, their voice less... evil than he expected, though the fact that it was being used to patronize him definitely made Darlien less likely to pay heed to its surprising normality. Then the mage sent out an arc of lightning. Darlien smiled, lightning looked nice and moved fast, but even the weakest warrior with a brain could still block it, all it took was something to ground it or absorb it, and Darlien's sword was just that.

Watching as the lightning closed, he held his blade tight, careful not to touch a metal part. With a cry, he placed the sword into the ground, right in the path of the arc, watching as it entered the blade and visibly sparked as the metal heated, before dispelling into the ground, into nothing. With an offhand swing, he turned himself towards the dominus, his confidence beginning to re-assert itself, but he couldn't get complacent, this was still a dominus, and a powerful mage indeed.

"I bet you think I'm some stupid kid, he snarked. "But I'm more than that,
I've learned about the world, I've studied the world and all the laws that hold our planet together, and one of the forces that's the same every time is electricity, you can generate it, you can control it, but it's not your tool, it does what it wants." He smiled

"Like fire, like water, like magic itself. Yes, I still have much to learn, but I am no boy,
I am a man!" He flicked his sword and flipped forwards. "I dare you to prove me wrong!" He yelled, taking off into a run. He used his magic to manipulate the winds, throwing him into the air towards the dominus. He then twisted through the air, forming a fist as he did.

Magic was hard to use, it was even harder to use more than one element, but Darlien was unique, he could learn how to cast a spell within a few minutes, and it was added to his arsenal with a few hours of further training. He had known other mages who could do similar, but it had taken them far longer than him. And yet he still hadn't surpassed his father, he knew that. It would take him years to reach that level, but he didn't want to wait, he wanted it to happen now, he wanted to be strong, strong enough to defeat an empire, and yet here he was, struggling to beat a single man... how he had failed achieved his goals, perhaps those goals were too far... no, he just wasn't trying hard enough, he was one of the best mages in the world, he could sever a continent with just a little more magic... just a little more... just a little more time, but he wanted it now!

He roared and punched downwards, the ground under him rupturing and practically exploding, sending rocks flying in every direction.

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

(Darlien Garandinar, Streets of Artis Port, Praelium.)

"Burn! ALL OF YOU WILL BURN!"

Darlien hadn't exactly expected this to happen, overuse of magic did cause mental degeneration along with the physical damage, but he had expected that to manifest in old age, rather than right in the middle of the prime of his life. Not that he was exactly thinking about that much right now. He hadn't even heard the approaching figure talk by the time he spotted them. They said something about "Experience" that Darlien didn't hear, and then it was all white, and painful.

His body shook and burned, his head screamed at him as his limbs stopped listening, instead shaking out of control as the electricity ran its way through him, brutalizing anything that it touched. He felt no pain in his hands, not so surprisingly, they were already burned enough that he had no nerve endings left to feel with. Finally, the flash dampened, and he collapsed with a cry of pain. Smoke rose from his body, and he tasted something horrifically bitter. There was an awful smell in the air. For a long time he just laid there, his muscles spasming out of his control.

Finally, the spasms subsided, and with a loud groan Darlien forced himself to his feet, testing them unsteadily. He looked over at his masked attacker, snarling with as much hate as he could muster.

"Praelian scum! How dare you attack me?!" He yelled, picking his dropped blade up from off the ground. "You... you're... a Dominus, aren't you?

Darlien's face suddenly went stark white. He hadn't expected a mage, but this was a Dominus, he'd heard of them from some of his tutors back in Benaduza, legendary mage chasers, near-unkillable and with some of the most powerful magics ever invented in their pockets. His father was the only person he'd heard of able to even wound one, never mind kill two. Darlien doubted he was even close to his father's level yet, but he believed he could handle another mage, even if it was a Dominus. Though he still had a massive pit in his stomach.

Taking a deep breath and spinning forwards, he suddenly became very aware of the multiple burns he had suffered as a result of that first attack. He could fight through it, but it would be more difficult.

Time to focus. He decided, as he finished his spin and dropped to one knee, blade pointed towards the Dominus. He was intimidating them, they would now know of his superior skills.

"Well, I don't care who you are," he lied, still just as worried. Because I'll kill you just the same!" Darlien yelled, with another cry his left hand lit up in flame, and from it flew a stream of flame, barreling towards the unnamed Dominus.

---

(Gennio e'Dux, Ascencion Islands)

"Sir!" A messenger barged in, nearly tackling Lord Pelionis and leaving him grasping his foot from a poorly-placed step. "The On'hinians have attacked Daradium!" A moment passed, tension evident in the silent room.

Suddenly, a snicker. Then a chuckle, then a snort, then a full laugh. Crackling coming from his throat in disbelief, the messenger stared at the king as he howled with laughter, smacking his thigh and pounding his chest as his cackle became a cacophonic howl. Then, just as quick as it had began, it stopped.

As the other two stared at him, Gennio raised an eyebrow.

"What are you staring at? Go to the barracks, raise the sailors! Move!" He chased the messenger at a brisk walk, clapping as he did. Pelionis stared at the back of his king in utter dumbfounded silence, before shaking his head and following.

"My king, what are your orders?"

"Follow behind and watch, I'm going to lose us a battle."

"Now?"

"Do you have a better idea or are you wasting time, Lord Pelionis?"

"...The latter."

"As I expected, now keep up, we sail for Daradium and prepare for battle, don't expect a victory,
because we're not getting one." The king finished, before rushing ahead, leaving Pelionis huffing and puffing, unable to keep up.

"Hali Benaduza." He cursed before attempting to pursue.

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

(Darlien Garandinar(Main), Artis Port, Praelium)

Darlien yawned as he walked away from the port. He hadn't set it on fire, restraint if he'd ever seen it, but the corpses were a statement enough. His blade entered a man's spine, the basket he was carrying clattering to the ground as he entered shock. Darlien tugged his blade loose, allowing the man to collapse to the ground in a heap. This devastation would be a good herald for the On'hinian invasion.

Now that he knew that Praelium was in as much danger as it was, he could let loose, when the invasion force arrived, he'd simply fade away into it, savoring the chaos as it gripped the barbarians and their poor nation. He would, however, be the one to slay the Tyrannis. It was what his father would have wanted, revenge for himself and his wife. After the Tyrannis would come the Dominus, the ones who had killed his father, took his head from his shoulders and tossed his body into the sea, Darlien would burn their homes to the ground. Then... hmm, Darlien had never thought of what to do after, perhaps wander the lands, see what he could see, help those in need, he'd be a hero, one who brought down the world's worst regime, he could see the love he would get from the people now.

While he was thinking these things, he cleaved a town guard's arm in two and executed him with a blast of magic flame to the face. These men had no chance against a mage of his caliber, the best they could do was come within four feet of touching him. He smiled as the guards formed a shield-wall and planted their pikes. He had no clue what they were thinking, of course they were all ex-military, it was hard to find a Praelian who wasn't, so obviously this tactic worked against normal opponents.

It wouldn't work against a mage.

With a wave of his hand, a wall of flame enveloped their shield wall, their screams shaking the air, citizens watching, terrified as their last defense burned away in front of them. Darlien's hand however, began stinging horribly, enough to bring him to grunt. Removing his glove, he noted that his hand had turned shiny and red, with small patches of crimson all over. His nails had turned yellow, and when he touched one, it simply fell away, tapping against the ground and lying there. There was no blood flowing from the ruined mess where his nail had once been due to the burning. As the fire dissipated, so did the pain, but the wound remained, horrific and hard to look at. With a grimace, Darlien put his glove back on.

It will be fine, I know it will, I'm the greatest mage of this generation, I cannot let a little burn worry me.

He entered the main streets, while they had been bustling when he had first arrived, now they were eerily quiet, the many buildings standing motionless and alone. Darlien almost felt like they were watching him, staring down at him like giants, gods even, judging his actions against those whose patronage they had.

Gods don't exist, Darlien reaffirmed to himself, but in the corner of his vision, he swore he could see one of them move. They had eyes, massive judging eyes, blue, brown, grey, they were alive, they were human. They screamed at him, their voices like wind, whistling and dampening with every moment.

"YOu mUrderer^killer theY'RE Alive^alive, yOu'rE onE OF theM. ^Praelian."

"Praelian"

"They're murderers, savages, I'm not one of them!"

"LIAr, Praaelian lIAr"

"Stop it!"

"Murderer" "Stop!" Savage, trAitor "Stop this NOW!" BaStard "ENOUGH, PLEASE!" Neever stop, we are you.

There was a scream, and then there was flame.

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

(Gennio e'Dux, Naval Base, Estantum)

"It's war then?" Gennio asked, stroking his goatee. The halfing nodded, still kneeling. Gennio chuckled, bringing a worried look to the messenger's face. "Good, incredible even, we're at war, we've got a chance to reunify our country. Send a letter to the human king, tell him that the navy will be proceeding in an invasion of On'hino and his support would be much obliged, make me sound humble or some other darcada, the dici humano will have to prepare themselves, we'll fight them a little bit, then we'll run away, make it look like we can't do it alone, humble the proud ones, then we'll join with the humans and lead them to victory, bringing unity and power to the great Duumvirate of Benaduza."

The messenger nodded and left the room immediately, not wishing to waste another moment in case the king's impatience manifested. The king however, was busy thinking on his plan.

"The halflings must lose, but the humans can't get too powerful, we must both lose but still have enough force to defeat the enemy when combined..."

"If I may sir," one of the halfling nobles approached the king. "Perhaps after our defeat, we cast off our flags, and when the humans attempt to invade On'hino alone, we attack, sink the flagship, kill the king. With their king dead, they'll retreat without losing another man, then the humans will be fighting even harder when we join with them, they'll be attacking with the force of revenge pushing them onwards," he spoke, hands behind his back. The king thought on his plan, it was a good one, but it did have a large margin for error... he didn't exactly have anything better leaping out at him, he knew he could pull it off, he was the best naval mind of his generation, he couldn't fail. He had to succeed, for Benaduza.

The king nodded and approached the noble.

"Your ideas are well-thought, lord..."

"Er, Pelionis e'Oranth, your highness."

"Pelionis e'Oranth, I hereby deputize you as my personal advisor on matters of war, now come, we have much to discuss." The king left, moving at speed, Lord Pelionis stared at where the king once was for a long time. He suddenly realized how far the king had gone, chasing after without a second wasted.

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

(Gennio e'Dux (Side), seas outside Estantium)

A king wasn't supposed to personally patrol the waters.

Gennio didn't much care what a king was supposed to do, the rising ethnic tension was too much of a bother to continue to deal with, what they needed was a good war, all Gennio needed was an excuse, though those were harder to come by. He stared out into the sea, ever moving and almost endless, you could disappear into it without a trace, never to be found or buried, it was terrifying, and yet Gennio was a part of it. Perhaps it was his Halfling blood, perhaps it was the fact that he'd spent so much time on a boat.

His introspection wasn't putting wind in the sails, so he stopped, instead taking up a telescope and looking over the horizon. While he did so, the vessel's captain approached him and saluted, placing his hand upon his heart and clicking his heels, he spoke in Gnomish with a Daradi accent.

"My king, your presence on this lowly patrol brings me much comfort, and I am glad to be of service to lady Benaduza." He stated, chin up. Gennio ignored him, leaving the halfling standing there, hand still on heart. It was at least five minutes before he looked up and began to respond.

"Yes, yes, I'm so grand, move on, we have a schedule to keep," he dismissed the man and walked away.

He moved towards the starboard bow, where a gnome looked out with telescope in hand. His ears twitched as he noticed something.

"Captain, I see frigates... On'hinian flags," he reported quickly. Gennio growled. In my waters?
How dare these fools!?

Gennio turned to the rest of the crew and drew his axe from his back, to which the crewmen gasped, some out of surprise and others out of anticipation, many wished to see the halfling king's ability first-hand.

"Put up parley flags, when they get close we board them and kill them all, take what you can and be sure to take a head or two, we're going to need something to send to their king," he roared, grabbing on a grappling rope and resting it on his shoulder. Looking around for the rest of the boarding party, he noticed the rigging, tall enough for a halfling to be the size of a troll. Putting the rope in his mouth and the axe on his back, he climbed, resting halfway to the first sail, sitting on a wood outcropping and drawing his weapon.

The On'hinians had closed within a few moments, and with a cry, Gennio leapt from the mast, tossing the rope towards the enemy vessel and swinging himself over. As he fell, he drove his axe through the skull of a foolish human, landing with it still lodged in the man's head. Kicking the man's knee to push him to a kneel, he yanked the axe loose and pushed him away. Dancing between the On'hinans in a flurry of axe-swings and punches, he carved a swath through the human lines. He barely realized that the battle had been one by the time he was called out of his rage by the ship's captain.

"We've won, my king, thanks to your incredible assau-"

"Spare me, you've taken heads, I saw it, put them in some bloody boxes and send them to On'hino,
I'm going back to the ship, scuttle all of these vessels to the bottom," he responded, turning and leaping back to the halfling vessel.

Perhaps this is the excuse I've been looking for.

Erelith Roleplay (Look at First Post OOC)

(Darlien Garandinar(MAIN), seas near Ascencion.)

The boat rocked heartily as the waves of the eastern sea crashed against it, nearly sending Darlien off the edge, to which a halfling laughed at length. The seas were rough today, but nowhere near rough enough to cause Darlien any undue discomfort, he was too pleased with the news. On'hino had done all but send a formal declaration of war, their army had assembled and was ready to climb onto the fleet. Darlien could have only dreamed of this moment prior to it. He smiled and sat on the wood deck, turning his chin up towards the grey skies as the wind picked up. He found himself intrigued by the way the halflings gracefully darted up and down the rigging as if the wind wasn't even there, their arms might have been short, but they could climb like no other.

"You're soldiers right? In the Benaduzan army?" He asked one of the halflings as he ran by. The halfling continued about his business, only responding when he had secured a sail and was tied up to the main mast.

"No, not anymore, we're smugglers, we can't do that and also be in the army," he yelled down, sarcasm obvious in his tone.

"Right, I'd forgotten."

The halfling snickered.

"You lie like a mainlander, humie."

"I don't appreciate that term." The other human on board responded. Darlien hadn't exactly researched the crew of this vessel, it was a smuggler vessel that was willing to take him from Ascencion to Praelium, so questions weren't exactly necessary. Even so, Darlien was so confused by these people and their actions that he almost wished he had done a little research.

"Oh, you gonna cry now? Dici Humano, you disgust me." Another of the halflings yelled down from the helm. The human was noticeably angered, a fact that aroused Darlien's curiosity far more than anything else that had happened on the bloody ship.

"You wish to anger a Praelian, halfling? I will gut you like the fish you are!" The man said, suddenly affecting a heavy Praelian accent that he seemed to be attempting to hide. Darlien's eyes shot open, and his sword-hand twitched towards his blade. A Praelian? Here?

Darlien stood immediately, suddenly not bothered by the rolling and lurching of the boat. He almost danced over to the man, who turned to him with a quizzical expression on his face. Darlien drew his sword in one smooth motion, his left hand beginning to glow as he channeled his magic into it. The Praelian's confusion was instantly replaced with a look of fury as he also drew his blade and charged forth without hesitation. He was a former soldier, presumably.

The Praelian struck with a powerful force, almost enough to knock Darlien off his feet, his blade crashing down vertically into Darlien's own.

"Put away your blade." He spoke to Darlien, like a father talking to an immature son. Darlien responded by spitting in the man's face. The Praelian pulled his sword away and punched Darlien against the face. He stood over Darlien, rubbing the spit from his face with a glare.

"Hey, hey, hey! Both of you put your blades away or get off my goddamn ship!" The halfling from the helm ran down and yelled up at the Praelian, spit from his mouth hitting Darlien while he lied on the ground. Karma was a harsh mistress.

This one was stronger than those at the village, Darlien seemed to have underestimated. Now that he looked closer, he noticed a large amount of scars on the man's upper arm, which was massive. Hmm, Darlien would have to pay closer attention to people next time he got into a fight. It didn't matter, Darlien knew, he could trounce him if he really tried, not that he needed to. He pushed himself into a sitting posture and holding out his hand. The Praelian looked confused before offering his own.

"You chose wrong."

Before the man's hand could touch Darlien's, a column of flame shot forth, dousing him in a cloak of orange. His face took on a look of complete terror before being consumed. His screams echoed out for what seemed for far too long, before he collapsed on the deck, the only motion coming from the flame that still cloaked him, crackling. The halflings stared, open-mouthed and sweating. Darlien smiled, standing and stomping over to the burning husk that was once a man. With a wave of his hand, the flame dispelled, leaving a black and charred corpse, yellow bone poking out from gangrenous and destroyed flesh.

He turned to the halflings, with a smug smile, watching them as they attempted to slink away from him, filling every corner and hiding their faces with their hands. With a shrug, he spoke.

"Let's get going."