Firehawk

Dragonslayers: A Fantasy RP

Brittle leaves cracked beneath his armored boots, leaving a wake of leafy destruction behind him. His metal-layered gauntlet breaking through the branches blocking the way as he marched through the forest. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the forest ceiling, creating small pockets of light in the otherwise pitch black. Howls and the chattering of bugs punctually breaking the silence, seeking to strike fear into him. Gritting his teeth, Drake approached his task with a vigor smashing away at the branches forging his own path through the wild. As he marched he stared into the darkness, the yellow eyes still following him, always watching. They blinked periodically, reassuring him that they were in fact a reality. Then they were gone and a deathly silence followed their disappearance. Nothing could be heard but the death of millions of leaves and branches that lay in his path. He paused resuming the silence and pulled his Falchion from it's scabbard, a loud noise greeting him as it's edge glided along effortlessly against the polished steel.

Grinning, he grabbed some tinder and placed it on the flat of his blade. Next, he grabbed a piece of flint and struck it forcefully against the flat. The fire burst alive in the darkness revealing everything around him for only a few seconds before dying as it's essence was pulled into the blade. It glowed lazily, the lack of strength in the fire causing the glow to be very dim. It was enough for him though, holding the blade before him like a torch he walked towards the next pocket. The silence remained for the entirety of his journey, not a single sound escaped the forest except his. He felt alone, immensely alone. Frowning, he allowed himself to bathe in the light of the next pocket. It felt divine, not in a spiritual way but rather a physical feeling.

He stood silently in the light, his armor reflecting it into the recesses of the forest. The shadows clawed their way from the trees, finally breaking free from the grasps of darkness and returning once more fitting themselves to the temporary light. He stepped out from the light and they immediately dispersed. The shadows retaking their territory.

Drake sighed and walked away from the heart of the forest. Due west he could probably find the road, though he may be strong he could no longer handle the deafness of the forest. As he walked, he hummed to himself the tune of the infamous song in his home town, 'O' Warrior of Vale'. A light in the distance grew brighter as he walked, since it was not from above it was most likely the exit to the forest. He smiled to himself, perhaps the shortcut was in fact worth it. He marched the rest of the distance patiently and pushed himself through the outgrowth and into the land brightened by the sun. It was a wonderful feeling after being in the darkness for so long, he allowed himself to stand there for a few more seconds soaking in it before taking a note of his surroundings. There was apparently a brawl on the road, presumably bandits since they were surrounding a carriage.

Pulling a pipe from his pouch he lit it carefully with his sword (Then extinguished it) and breathed in. Moments later, he blew out a small ring of smoke. He could help, it would be the right thing to do. However, what kind of man would waste the duration of his pipe? He mockingly waved at the group, (It would be hard for them to see him anyway since he was so far away but at least he acknowledged them.) before continuing to travel parallel to the road along the forest outskirts occasionally taking a drag from the pipe. What a wonderful day for a trip to Irontown, hopefully they'd finished his new gear.

Dragonslayers: A Fantasy RP

Next we find out that everyone is an Octopus.

Dragonslayers: A Fantasy RP Interest Check and Signups

Updated.

Dragonslayers: A Fantasy RP Interest Check and Signups

Name: Drake, The Errant

Age: 34

Gender: Male

Appearance: The Errant No armor

Personality: An errant knight who prefers to idle about rather than attack with ferocity, he is generally the last to enter combat but is very capable when he chooses to commit his all. He has lost many friends in the past years slaying the mighty beasts and chooses not to create new friendships for this purpose. He prefers to work alone and finds solace in solitude. Other than that, he does not care for justice nor what is right. He fights in homage to the first partner he lost in combat, his now late lord.

Brief Backstory: Drake was originally a Knight under the service of the lord of Vale, Albert. They had grown up together during the early years of their lives and they had always stuck together. Fortunately, they were both blessed with the physical strength used to strike back at the dragons however Albert was groomed to become the next Lord. So in his stead, Drake promised to fight dragons in his name as well as his own. With the many responsibilities of being a Lord, Albert and Drake grew apart and the two began to walk separate paths.

Two years after their separation, the last Lord of Vale, (Albert's Father) passed away in a tragic accident. Albert took his place as Lord and had much too do rather than spend time with Drake as they used to. A year later, Drake once again back in town to visit was called in to meet Albert. A dragon had been terrorizing the country-side and he was requested to assist Vale in killing it. Little did he know at the time he'd be paired with Albert himself, who would rather fight than stay home.

The Fight

Drake sighed audibly as he walked next to his childhood friend, Albert. "I just don't understand why you would want to come out here yourself, it's dangerous." The two walked in silence for a while as they approached the last reported sighting of the dragon, finally Albert broke the silence, "The gap between us has grown wide and there is no man I can trust here in Vale, sometimes I just wish for what we had in the past. An innocent relationship with no deep motives of using one another." He too sighed before pulling his sword out of it's scabbard. "However, I am just as blessed as you are and in the battlefield I can run from the responsibilities of Vale. Albeit, temporarily."

He tested it's balance in his hands before quickly placing the flat side on each of Drake's shoulders forcing him to his knees in the process. "I knight you in my name, Sir Drake. We may not be able to spend time together, however I hope that you can still fight for my sake and for Vale." Drake stood once more somehow feeling smaller than before, "It is because I am experienced that I wish for you not to enter the battlefield. Inexperience can lead to death, I can only assume that the first kill can lead to death for most Slayers."

Albert smiled at him, "It's a good thing that I have Sir Drake to protect me." Drake shook his head and whispered to himself, "If I cannot protect myself first, then how can I protect you, Albert?" The conversation had ended and the two young men walked to the top of the hill, resting in the valley beneath them was a light blue Dragon engaged with the Vanguard. Drake sighed and pulled out his Modified Falchion specially made for him. "I'll see you at the bottom then."

__________________

Drake pulled down his visor as he neared the bottom of the hill, bodies lay either scorched or in small heaps on the grass. He silently waved his sword in a circle before planting it into the ground, "May the winds carry me through the fear and protect me from the fire. May the earth reinforce my will and give me strength." He pulled the Falchion from the ground and lifted it into position. The dragon itself was engaged with the remnants of the Vanguard, still enraged that man dared to challenge it. However he was no mere mortal, but one blessed with the physique and talent to slay. Breathing deeply he braced himself for combat and lifted his feet to be on the balls. The moment he exhaled he took off, everything in his mind being blown away by the sheer speed of the wind blowing past him. Rocketing along the ground, he pushed himself off the earth and into the air above the dragon. It's attention still on the men running away before it. He spun his falchion wildly in a circle to pick up momentum before falling back down towards it's wings. If he could take out the wings there would be no escape for it.

He braced himself for impact before smashing into the small of it's back alongside the two bony wings. The Falchion twirling in his hands as it ripped apart the vellum that was it's wings. The dragon reared it's head in pain almost throwing him off the back but he held onto the blade still embedded into the wing, digging it even deeper than before. As the dragon pulled it's head back he scrambled towards the next wing to find Albert there hacking away at the connectors to the back. The next section the dragon twirled in place throwing both of them off and into the ground. It's spiked tail tearing through the Vanguard as it turned towards them. Pulling himself off the ground he prepared to deflect or parry the dragon's claws. Instead, it lifted it's tail and smashed it into the ground next to them lifting the film of dirt and creating a perpetual smoke screen. Blinded he held his sword in front of him as a shield and walked parallel as if the dirt were a riptide. As he escaped the cloud of dirt he turned back to see Albert in the dragon's claw, seconds later he could hear the crunch as he was squeezed to death in it's palm.

In complete disbelief, Drake stood there silently watching as his friend slipped from it's palm and crumbled against the ground. Rage overtook his every emotion as he ran towards it, putting every ounce of his strength into his legs to pick up speed. Before reaching the dragon, he jumped with all the power he could muster all the way up to it's head. The slanted pupils and steam coming from his nostrils greeted him, but he ignored the fire as it blazed around him. No amount of pain could stop him now, not even hell fire. Letting the strength leave his legs he put everything into his arms and chopped at it's neck cleaving meat from it as he went. The panicked dragon strengthened it's fire as he held his place in air, his Falchion cutting slice for slice from the dragon's neck as he stood there suspended. "May the flames take you, Dragon." His sword grew brightly in the flames, burning a molten white as the flames compounded themselves inside the gem in the sword before bursting into flames as the sword struck the flesh of it's neck. Even though dragons have natural resistant to flames, they conflaragated and the entire neck of the dragon burst into white flames. It's flames weakened before stopping entirely, it's body crumpling up as it fell to the ground once again smashing Albert's body into a paste.

He felt himself falling from the air before smashing into the ground, his armor seriously dented but the blade still glowing a molten white searing the air around him. He stood up briefly before kneeling in front of the dragon, his Falchion stabbed into the dirt allowing it to cool off as the steam whispered lazily from the ground. "You may have taken a friend from me, however it cannot damage my will to fight. You may have taken Albert from me, however I will take from you all that you know dragon. Everything."

The steaming corpse of the dragon lay silent before his will and he stood up before leaving. He would not allow himself to be blamed for Albert's death, but it was indeed his fault.

"Drake." He heard his name whispered from nearby weakly, Drake whirled to find Albert crumpled on the ground utterly broken. Everything but his head intact, (A helm gifted by Drake had saved at least that much). "W-why did you run? You have the strength do you not? The will to fight? Why must you run?"

Drake stared at Albert for a few seconds through the steam, "Because I am afraid and nothing will ever change that."

Albert laughed weakly, "Then you must find the strength and courage to stand up to them, to fight for me, Sir Drake."

Albert died before him and he walked away tears in his eyes.

Abilities - Extremely skilled in controlling impacts, jumps and his own strength when it comes to jumping and swinging. While he lacks finesse in air, he boasts power. Can suspend himself in air by using his strength to push him in a direction (I.E Swinging towards a dragon pushes him towards it while not allowing him to fall.) While capable of suspending himself in air, it is only for a few seconds and he must be attacking otherwise he'll fall back down. The style of the Falchion does not allow it to easily grip onto dragons and will make him reconsider fighting in the air unless they're already on the ground. Essentially, he targets the wings of unsuspecting dragons before engaging them on the ground.

Equipment: A modified Falchion with a gem designed to absorb large quantities of heat. Once reaching a critical point, it will expel all of the collected heat and ignite the sword's metal core turning it into a Falchion of Flame for a minute. Heat resistant armor, (Due to the runes inscribed in it in the picture), reinforced metal boots for impact purposes.

The armor and Falchion were created by the same master-smith.

Let me know if anything needs to be changed, (Titles of Albert etc or the name of Vale and etc.)

The Rebirth of Firehawk and Xikari Chan.

Various vapors of different colors (Ranging from bright yellow to the darkest shades of black) drifted lazily around the room, obscuring everything from sight and also severely damaging most of the furniture in the room. Initially, he would have been delighted at the results of the experiments perhaps even ecstatic. However, Lord Xander had other feelings at the moment. He felt his fingers rubbing him temples as he paced in a square around the table holding the vials, the clever little vials. “How, how in all hell could I forget to open the windows every single god damn time?” The words barely escaped from his mouth as the front door was slammed into the wall.

The fumes originally trapped inside the room were now rushing to escape, slightly due to their increased buoyancy levels from the added Eyir Wing. The result was a hazy room and two slightly annoyed males.

He winced at the audible crack in the dry wall before deciding perhaps it would be best to pay more attention to the source of his now damaged wall. Standing in the door way was a tall man, perhaps maybe twenty of age with short blonde hair albeit slightly beginning to bald. (A pity really, at such a young age.) However, the man was built like a warrior with lean slabs of muscle rippling metaphorically underneath his rough spun tunic. A few daggers were strapped to his belt, more for appearance than practicality in this part of town. In the hands of this young man was a bag.

Xander sighed deeply, the pain in his temples increasing and distracting him even more. “Zultiffitor’s horn, do you realize how much that’s going to cost me? I just had the entire wall replaced last week from the last shitty experiment I did.”

The young man laughed, “It’s not my fault you drunkenly convinced yourself that bakeless muffins was a fantastic idea. However, on a slightly more serious note I have stol- er… “Acquired” the … Shit, I have no idea what it’s called, but I have it here.” He nodded his head in a general capacity towards the bag. Or sack, or maybe it’s a pouch.

Xander beckoned for the sack and the young man threw it to him. He let it fall to the floor and frowned. “Can you just give me the fucking bag? For Christ’s sake you don’t know what it’s called or what it is but you know it’s for alchemy and you THROW it!”

He waited for a few seconds until he was sure that the man was not going to try again and picked it up himself. He untied the pouch and upended the contents onto the nearest table. “You know what? I don’t even care, you can find another buyer for anything else you happen to er… Acquire, as you like to call it. Get out of my house.”

The man stood there also now frowning, “Not until I’m paid.” He positioned himself to block the entire doorway and crossed his arms in an act of defiance.

Xander literally smacked his fist onto the table letting the rage flow out of him, “Consider it payment for the wall you destroyed.”

Once again the man stood still, the tension growing as he plucked one of the knives of his belt and began to twirl it. “You will pay me or I will take it back, find another buyer and at the same time end your pitiful existence then I will take my lady friends to buy dinner as we celebrate your death.”

Xander sneered at the knife and walked over to his bed.

He briefly stared into the mirror, noting his black hair and stubble. His eyes flared a bright red mirroring his emotions; he was well built for a practitioner of the dark arts. While he wasn’t as built as the man behind him, he was still quite fit and very handsome for his occupation. He was perhaps 5’11 now, it had been a while since he last checked but he had grown well since his rebirth. On his shoulder were the remnants of a scar, one that followed him no matter the body. It resembled the claws of a hawk, the sigil of his mentor and of course his brand. He pushed his black bangs out of his eyes and combed it neatly to the side.

He began to strip, pulling off the chemically stained smock and the undershirt behind it. In return, he pulled on a white tunic. He carefully smoothed it down and then pulled on a black cowl/coat combo.

The thick shadowy fabric was custom made and obscured most of his body features from sight. He began to gently flex his fingers beneath it. He let a grin show on his face as he turned back towards the man. “I have fantastic news Thief, I no longer have need of your services nor your goods. Why this is fantastic news I have no idea, but you will not be alive to care.” He paused for a moment mid-step, “No wait, shit I’m supposed to think of something more clever.

He flexed his fingers to their full range underneath the cloak and dispersed them in a wide array. From each finger came a bolt of shadow that travelled faster than any arrow, (Flowing through the fabric of the cloak, as it is both made of the same energy so they work essentially like a power bottleneck, open the valve and it flows through.) each spun wildly before converging into a spiral bolt of energy that pierced the man’s chest ripping through the fine muscles and rendering them obsolete. Next came the blood as the bolt dispersed inside of the man, breaking into tiny needles that shredded through anything that remained after the initial bolt.

The man collapsed to the floor in a growing pool of blood, dead on impact and most certainly humiliated as the dagger he had been twirling was lodged in his own body.

The young (Albeit old in the sense of his occupation considering rebirths and all that) Necromancer smiled beneath the cowl of his cloak and rummaged through the room for the necessities he would need before his departure from the city. He would regret not being able to visit the famed brothels, but it would be something he’d have to live with.

He whistled as he left towards the city’s way gates, the vial from the bag clutched tightly in his fist. His next location was that of the most magically advanced place in the world, the realm of Irakix. He would need quite a few souls for his pet project to be finished. Powerful ones…

The Rebirth of Firehawk and Xikari Chan.

Original Prompt

The story is about a mage, a quiet peasant, and a promiscuous necromancer. It takes place in a magical part of our universe. The critical element of the story is a theft

The object of this roleplay was to take a prompt and flesh it out into a full story together. Let us begin with the start of their wonderful quest.

Three paths become one.

The story so far!

The Royal Speech

Hear ye, hear ye.

On this very day, the fifth of Frostfall in our very own realm of Irakix a grievous theft, A MOST HEINOUS ONE, was committed. One of immense proportions, the heart stones of the realm itself have been stolen. The stones which are responsible for powering nearly everything in the realm, including the way gates between the realm and others. This means that the realm is a state of emergency, as part of a royal decree any information having to do with the disappearance of the stones must be reported immediately or the death penalty shall be exacted at a later date if it is discovered that you were aware of such information.

These stones have been with the realm for nearly twenty decades and contain the souls of every single deceased aristocrat since the beginning. Without their power, nothing in this land will function efficiently nor will travel be possible between any other realm forever or at least until the stones have been returned. Meaning the thief is stuck here with us and so are every single one of you. Yes, we may be at fault for not properly protecting the stones which were probably not an ideal thing to keep in a very public and laxly guarded museum but we pride ourselves in being fantastic hosts for any and all tourists.

We shall reward any person for any ounce of information as well as VERY GENEROUSLY rewarding anyone for the capture of the thief and the stones. By generously we mean you will be filthy rich, never need to lift another finger for the rest of your life and you can make a castle out of god damn gold. We are the capital of magic and we have money to throw around if it can motivate you to lift even a finger to help us now in our time of need.

As a reminder any magic or technology will be completely reliant on your own talent as it will draw on your energy rather than the stones, meaning everything will be much less efficient as well as exhausting you quickly. However this is only true for those who have no talent and came here to utilize our stones, any mage or say Necromancer with any power themselves could easily operate anything they wanted considering how powerful they are in comparison to the average citizen here in Irakix.

Happy hunting, also you must have a team of three to claim the reward. If you can't find any friends to help you then come on down to the museum to check out other rare artifacts and form a team with others. There is also some security footage if you'd like to take a look, by the way on the third floor we have a very rare statue made of diamond and nothing else if you'd like to take a look. Please do not cross the rope around it or touch the statue while you are viewing thank you.

Peace. Royalty and King Dreeg out!

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Cast List:
Xander - Necromancer
??? - Mage
??? - Peasant

Notable mentions!
Dreeg is backwards for Greed!
Irakix is backwards for Xikari!