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2 yrs ago
Current Been 5 years since I posted a status!
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7 yrs ago
It's a Chuck Palahniuk quotes kinda night.
8 yrs ago
... Something new
9 yrs ago
I'm so Fuckin' broken...

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This looks awesome!
Working on a character right away! 😁
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KYZLER


@Cryptek12

Kyzler scowled as the girls teeth sunk into his arm. It was followed by a chuckle as he admired her resolve and determination. Trying to shake off the pain he casually watched her desperate attempt on the floor. Shaking his head he turned to Sheffield. Eyes glaring.

”Since you dropped her you can.... his words trailed off.
”Oh fuck.” he whispered.

He watched and listened to the hunter with despair. So brash and reckless.
Realising he couldn’t change what had began, Kyzler sighed, paused for a moment then grit his teeth angrily as he decided to follow the self proclaimed hunter and dying girl. Follow them away from safety, away from help, towards murderers, unknown dangers and dangerous people and possibly her dead parents.

Kyzler didn’t get to the age he currently is by being a reckless fool.
But if that is true, why could he not just stop following them?

His gaze kept switching from the girl to signs of her tracks on the floor. The shuffling and movement couldn’t be good for her or her injury. He wanted to be sure they were on the right path. In her state it would be easy for her to get mixed up or suddenly pass out.

It was a horrible thought to have but it did pass Kyzler’s mind, ‘maybe they would be better off if she didn’t survive the trip.’ He tried to run every scenario in his head but had so little information. In every situation of combat she was going to be a liability. An extra target, a bargaining tool, a hinderance, unpredictable and irrational. Kyzler was already preparing a heavy speech and beating for this foolish hunter.
It would take pure luck to see this night to the end without disaster.

Now he knew why he had an off feeling about this kid...
KYZLER


@Cryptek12

Kyzler quickly moved to asses the situation for himself. An urgency took his step as caution shifted to the back of his mind. As he approached the duo and looked over the slender armoured young man, Kyzler couldn’t help but regain his guard. Despite this young mans appearance offering no sign’s of mistrust and his story fitting true, there was just something about him that didn’t sit right in the deep pits of Kyzler’s stomach. An unnerving feeling he couldn’t place nor shake.

But there was no time nor urgency for that. The girl was indeed bleeding badly, blood soaked clothes glistened in the moonlight. Her ignorance of the wound and focus else where was evidence of shock borderline of hysterics.

He had to calm the girl and had just the tools to do so. Pulling a small half filled vile from one of many discreet pouches on his body, he uncorked it and reluctantly parted with the faintly citrusy, fruity smelling liquid that held the subtle musky undertones that hinted of hemlock. As he emptied it onto a small cloth he seemed displeased.

”It will be bitter, but it will calm her. Put her to sleep eventually if she sucks enough from it. You might have to force it in her mouth but it will definitely take the fight from her. I know from personal experience.“ Said Kyzler as he handed the small scrunched up cloth to the young man and moved to support and comfort the girl. Kyzler decided to leave the difficult labour to the Good Samaritan while softly whispering soothing reassurance to the girl.
KYZLER


@Aerandir@Cryptek12

Kyzler let go of any doubt or caution that he held as the situation became more clear by the girls struggle.

Despite the growing distance between them he paused out in the open road and took a deep breath. Inhaling deeply of the cool nights air. Clearing his mind and thoughts. His fingers dancing upon his pockets and hidden pouches, running inventory of what he had available at his disposal. They opted to rest on his bolas belt over any kind of knife or shuriken, and the distance between them was too great for a dart.

But first... a warning. Hopefully reasoning would prevail.

With a heavy exhale his voice thundered down the street. Loud and deep it boomed with an untold authority and urgency. “STOP RIGHT THERE AND PUT THE CHILD DOWN”
He spoke with a confidence that demanded obedience, words clear, marred by the faintest tang of common slang. His steely gaze watching the unknown man intently.
KYZLER


@Ellion@Cryptek12

For most, there are few moments in life of pure tranquility and peace. Kyzlar had had just managed to find one such. For in that brief sheer moment, he experienced true weightlessness. Soaring through the air, the wind in his face, he was flying, he was free. The enjoyment however was short lived as before his lips could even curl into an appreciative smile it was all over. The tranquility and peace abruptly vanishing.

The once soft sweet cool freedom of air that gently brushed his face was instead viciously and violently replaced by the rough harsh unforgiving cobblestone road. His full weight and body following his face hard, crashing very unceremoniously into the ground. After a short tumble and many scrapes later he came to a stop.

A mix between laughter and a cough sputtered from his mouth. Behind him at the entrance of a large building, two burly men dusted off their hands as they went back inside. Some what now content. People without coin were clearly not welcome in that establishment. Especially those of the smart mouth, I’ll tempered variety.

With no goal or ambition to move from that spot he just lay there for a stretching moment. Drifting between the realms of sleep, consciousness and unconsciousness. This was a defeated man that lay on the floor. Defeated in life, heart and soul. A husk and a shell of his former self. All dreams and hopes long whisking away. Sorrow now clung heavily to the empty wilting frame, the burden and toll for his past transgressions haunting him forever more. No number of tankards of ale could wash it away. He was stuck with it. An all consuming and endless loneliness.

And then... a sound reached his ears waking him from self wallow. ‘Oh shit...’ he thought to himself as with a shaky sigh and wobbly struggle he quickly brought himself to his feet.
Staggering down the street with a somewhat clumsy haste he sought the cause of his dismay. The plea and cries of a child. He was too late. The sky roared and fizzled with sparkling colors as the girl was swept off her feet and taken during the distraction. Without thought and with as much skill and grace as his tired body could muster, he stalked the the rushing man from a distance.

@Dark Light Does the doll have a name?


Hoping to develop one in game.
Open for interaction. Feel free to assume the location. :)
A witches murder?

’A path between here and there.’
Location: (Nowhere in particular.)


As the dagger twisted, a sickening squelch escaped the wound, followed by the gushing of warm wet blood. It ran freely over the cloth twisted around the daggers hilt and over the hands that bound it, staining all that it touched as it made its way to the earth.
With a final heave the injury was cemented as fatal and the young woman, accused of witchery without evidence, exhaled her last and final breath.
Tearful eyes became empty and void of life, staring up at her attacker. The surprise, shock and fear still evident on her otherwise innocent appearing face.
All of a sudden her womanly frame became too heavy to hold and her body fell ungracefully to the floor. Dropping like a lifeless sack of potatoes. Stealing the dagger from her attackers hands.

And just like that, a woman was murdered and there was supposedly one witch less in the world. The events of Goldencrest had called to all manner of opportunists, want to be hero’s and misinthropes. New bodies began to pile up far from the dead town, ripples of the carnage that occurred. Not too far from this particular encounter lay a man older than most ever become. His robes of a noble nature and his equipment and tools more fancier and complicated than any commoner could ever hope to afford or fathom. Everything was laden in holy symbols and scriptures, written in a language not of this land.

It was foresight that led him on the path to Goldencrest, but alas he was too late, just as he was too late to avoid the arrow that now penetrated his chest.

Despite the intense emotional toll of the situation, the attacker stared blankly back at the lifeless victim, no hint of remorse or sorrow at all. No guilt, fear, recognition or even pride. In fact, no signs of emotion at all.

For reasons unknown the attacker chose to flee. Running from the scene as fast as they could. They left the small dirt road from which they travelled an just ran. No destination or purpose ahead. They ran and ran until they could run no more, putting as much distance behind them as possible. Where they were now, they were not sure. The scenery had all changed. Exhaustion flooded their tired body, before anything else they found a seemingly secluded hiding spot and fell unconscious.


“Blood is the currency of life and nothing in this world is truly for free. ”


The orphaned witch boy, raised by hunters now in life servitude to a fire witch. Can never be with the one he loves and knows nothing of his family or sister.


The cursed hunter destined to always forget anyone and thing he cares for.


The newborn doll, young and naive yet unknowingly dangerously powerful.
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