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| Chronicles of Athylon; Act I: The Rose of Rotharia | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 13 2013, 11:59 PM (3,383 Views) | |
| Wanderlust | Feb 15 2014, 06:39 PM Post #81 |
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The Sleeping Soul
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Alex felt helpless. She felt worse than helpless. Everything she tried to do only seemed to make things harder for the Ensemble. Her family. As Castilla dragged her and Priscilla up and away from the fire and the fighting and into the supposed safety of the ramshackle town, more than one opportunity had presented itself for Alex to draw the blade hidden in her coat, end the woman's life, and escape with Priscilla Harmon. But she didn't. She couldn't. I'm a coward. Now the three of them sat along with three of the Scarlet Shields and the quiet priestess that had delivered them food and drink back on Reyna's ship in the bowels of a safehouse that had been carved deep into the rock of the Wyvern's Maw. A shelter from storms that had battered the town in the past, apparently, but now it protected them from a different sort of storm, one that Alex prayed would crash down upon them and take her in its embrace. They waited in darkness, their only source of light a torch the priestess had set in one corner of the room. She stared into the flames, tears in her eyes as she whispered a prayer to Avaleria beneath her breath, as men and women fought and burned and died in the town above them. Every few moments, the monstrosity Veskin had used as a mount would let loose a bloodcurdling howl that echoed through the seaside cavern. Castilla sat behind them, as calm as ever, but kept her gaze focused on one of the Scarlets in particular, a lean, younger man with dark eyes that stood still as a statue as he watched them from the center of the room. His blade was in his hand. Alex did not like the look he was giving them. Castilla didn't seem to either. "You're done, you know," he said. "However this ends, you and your cunt captain are done for." Castilla smiled pleasantly at the man as if he had just commented on the weather. "Mm? Is that so?" "You saw what happened to your ship," he spat, clearly annoyed by the woman's tone. "Most of your crew went with it. What do you plan to do - stow away on ours? Veskin intended to be true to his word, but he'll take this opportunity gladly. Skarsgard will be hungry for Reyna's blood when she learns the shitshow she pulled in Avareux. Leaving you two to rot here? That'll put Venoux back on her good side, aye, and we'll still have the crystals to boot. It'll save us another trip to those snakefucking Zarethi bastards." The priestess turned to face them, and for the first time Alex heard her speak. "Y-You monsters! Weren't the Scarlet Shields known for never breaking a single contract? Whatever Reyna has done, she is still a Seareaver! The covenant Skarsgard and Goethe made-" "Piss on your fucking covenant," the Scarlet snarled. "Goethe once made us a promise too, and look where that's gotten us. Exiled from our homes, forced to associate with the likes of very pirates we once protected Rotharia from! No more." He turned his gaze on Priscilla. "We've gotten the one thing we needed out of you bottom-feeding bilge rats. Skarsgard will thank me if I slit your throats." In agreement with their comrade, the other two Scarlets drew their blades. The priestess's eyes widened in terror and fury, and she began to step back towards the torch she had lit. "Y-You'll burn in the deepest of the six-" "Hush, dear," Castilla said. Seemingly untroubled, she rose to her feet with a smile and took a few cautious steps towards the dark-eyed Scarlet man who had spoken, her arms and fingers outstretched to show she was unarmed. "I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding. What's your name?" The man narrowed his eyes. "Gullivey. What of it?" "Gullivey, do you really think Reyna has nothing more to offer you than kidnappings disguised as Seareaver ransoms?" She slipped in close, unafraid of the cold steel in the man's hand. "Men are known to do desperate things to survive... some would say women even more so. You could take Reyna as a concubine... and her too, perhaps. They're accomplished lovers both, I assure you." Castilla looked over to the priestess with a sly smile, and the woman shuddered in horror. Yet it seemed she was not without some courage. "B-Better to die than live as an oathbreaker's whore," she said, her voice wavering but words resolute. "I'd sooner embrace Avaleria than any of you scum." "You imply the choice is yours," Gullivey spat. The Scarlet closest to the priestess watched her with hunger in his eyes. Gullivey turned his attention back to Castilla, his smile wicked. "And what of you? Are you content to live as a bedwarmer?" Castilla smiled pleasantly. "Perhaps, but not as yours. I'm afraid I won't be leaving on your ship. I have another, you see." Gullivey frowned, and his fingers tightened around his blade. "What?" "The Crimson Rose." Alex didn't see where the dagger came from, but suddenly it was in Castilla's hand. Faster than her eyes could follow, she sunk it into Gullivey's groin before tearing it out and drawing it across the man's wrist, slicing open skin and arteries both. The Scarlet opened his mouth to scream as the sword fell from his bloodied grasp, but the sound was silenced as the woman thrust the dagger up behind his jaw and through the roof of his mouth. The silence lasted half a heartbeat, then the other two Scarlets shouted in anger and charged towards her. Her blade still impaled through Gullivey's head, Castilla revealed a throwing knife hidden within her clothing and with her free hand flung it at one of the men with flawless aim. It buried itself in his eye and he fell backwards, clutching the ruin of his face. The last Scarlet stopped dead in his tracks, scowled... then rushed towards Alex and Priscilla instead. "Kill him, girl!" Castilla shouted at her. Alex felt close to paralyzed with fear, but she thrust a trembling hand into her longcoat and from it drew the curved silver dagger that had- The Scarlet reached her before she even had a chance to react and backhanded her hard across the face. With a cry of pain Alex fell to the floor, the dagger clattering to the ground several feet away from her. The man grabbed Priscilla and pressed the tip of his blade to the girl's throat as he spun her to face Castilla. "Do what you'd like, Seareaver whore," he seethed, "but Venoux will have what we-" The man let out a bloodcurdling scream and dropped the knife, a thin line of blood on it. He threw the girl to the ground, revealing the dagger hilt that was sticking out of his thigh. Blood blossomed on his trousers. Priscilla immediately scrambled away, sobbing and nursing the trickle of blood that came from her neck where the knife had grazed her. "The little cunt stabbed me," the man roared through his agony, stunned. He tried to take a step towards her, but his leg gave way and he collapsed to the ground, writhing and crying out in pain. Alex pushed herself to her feet, snatched up her dagger, and rushed to help Priscilla, while Castilla stepped slowly, deliberately, towards the final Scarlet. She stared at him and made a soft "tch" sound, then leaned down above him, grabbed the hilt of the dagger impaled in his leg, and twisted. He screamed once more, and Alex was forced to cover her ears. Castilla ripped the dagger out of him, calmly wiped the blood off on his breeches, and offered it back to Priscilla. When she neglected to take it, she shrugged and slid it next to her own back inside of her coat. "Time to go, doves," she said. "I do hope you'll put in a good word for me for Karia." She glanced over her shoulder back towards the priestess, who was still trembling from what she just witnessed. "You're coming, I assume?" She nodded, and willed her shaking hands to still before carefully pulling the torch out from the sconce that held it. "T-Thank you. The crew is done, then?" she asked. "M-My sister, she..." "Mm, Gullivey was right about that much," Castilla said. "But I haven't given up on Reyna just yet." She stepped towards the makeshift stone stairwell that had been carved into the rock and waved for the others to follow. Alex gripped Priscilla's wrist and gently helped the girl to her feet, casting one last glance over to the man she had stabbed. He was still alive, flailing and groaning in agony, but the growing puddle of blood that spurted out from the wound in his leg indicated that the femoral artery had been ripped open. He did not have much longer. Alex shuddered in revulsion at the sight. "Castilla," she said, "why did you-" "A woman will do desperate things to survive," she answered grimly. "Let's go." |
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| Deleted User | Feb 15 2014, 07:43 PM Post #82 |
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Deleted User
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It was all too easy to take down the first drunken goons to stumble down to the pier; the 'distraction' group certainly earned it's name from the fist-tastic and forward assault they brought upon the shanty town. Against his better judgement, Silversteel allowed his companions to battle to their tastes, deigning to play to their strengths rather than ask them to adopt an unfamiliar tactic. Hastily, he dispatched a pair of guards with a dashing flourish of his rapier, cutting through the first throng of pirates along with his cohorts. It was not long before the distraction crew had made themselves a foothold upon the docks of the grungy and rot ridden plunderers paradise. "Landfall, ladies and gentlemen." Silversteel declared, moving along the dock. "Hmm, now, the Ensemble is going to need a distraction. Something eye catching that will draw all of the attention off of-" He was cut short as a thunderous boom echoed throughout the cave as a mighty explosion sent flame and fury upon the would be city, setting it ablaze, "them and on to that explosion." He finished, cooly. "Mission accomplished, distraction achieved... Good work, distraction team, everybody give yourselves a pat on the back!" He placed his hands on his hips, smirking behind his mask. All about Silversteel the cave was in chaos. Men and women fighting, frying or flying as the Sea Reavers plans quite literally went up in smoke. He took in a breath of air as he surveyed the destruction before him, his eyes finally falling on some grizzled and gnashing beast seeking to make a quick snack of his friends. With a sigh Silversteel pointed at the hulking thing, "Distraction team, new mission. Distract -that-." Assuming they would follow his que he darted off in to the wreckage, hoisting himself above the dock and on to a building to slink along the road less traveled. Silversteel dashed through the crumbling wasteland of the collapsing cityscape, ducking and weaving through beams and board. Smoke burned his lungs as one thought kept in his mind, getting there before it was too late. Grasping at a rope the swashbuckler would swing down from on high. His hands released the rope as he slammed on to a low archway, hauling himself up on to the roof of some manner of brothel or house of ill repute, staring down at the beastly brawl below him. "We're going to need more aid, I think," he heard from below as his allies were hard pressed by their assailant. Silversteel smirked once more, pulling down the tip of his hat as he drew one dirk from each side, leaping off of the building towards the monstrosity, his blades digging in to the thick hide as he fell from the rooftops upon the back. With fervor and fury it bucked and thrashed, shaking him free as the daggers remained wrenched in to its flesh, a thick river of blood pouring from the two wounds as the frothing beast let out a roar, charging the swordsman. He barely managed to get to his feet in time to find himself gored upon it's snout and tossed in to a pile of barrels, slumping to the ground again, ribs pounding. "You son of a bitch," he smirked, picking himself up, "You ruined my entrance... Though nothing can ever impede my timing, you will find." He leapt to the side as the beast made another charge, tearing in to the barrels behind him as he goaded it in to the splintered mess which was once a storage nook, "Ladies, I trust I can borrow a weapon better suited to this beast than a rapier? With it's hide I feel I would do better with harsh words and stern disposition." |
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| Agrias | Feb 15 2014, 09:55 PM Post #83 |
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The Foreman
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Agrias cursed silently as he tried to stand, stumbling once more as a sharp pain shot through his leg, his thigh and breeches turning crimson. Eyes lingering on the pulsing purple crystals as his hand trembled a moment. Taking a deep breath he hurriedly tore his shirt free, rending it to strips as he bound the wound in his thigh, tying it tight, snug enough to stint the bleeding for the moment, at least. Using the tattered remnants of the shirt for his hand as he took a deep breath, holding it through a sharp grunt as he pulled himself from the ground, to stand. "Saint's bones, this stew will sour if-" he cut off hearing a howl echo through the cavern that sank his stomach, a boiling pit of dread filling him, memories washing over him as he hobbled, his leg stiff and the ache ever-present as he cursed softly with a wince. "By old oaths and as long as I breath..." he uttered, as if a promise he'd always kept drew him, more resolute. "Not this day." He commanded himself, his hand trembling no more as he looked once more to the scattered weapons and crystals. "And I'll not leave such things to be the seeds of worse." his hand twitched as he reached for the first shard gingerly. By third howl he looked up from a crouch, having used one of the shirts of the fallen, now mottled with crimson to fill with the dangerous prize he now held in burden. Looping the tied sleeves over his head, to carry it on his back he looked to the one darkened and dead crystal, left where it had fell, a look of worry in his eyes, lingering only a moment before he reached for the last blade. Its tip still crimson from his own leg as he stood. Looking more resolute he ignored the dull ache in his thigh as he trotted toward the howls, "My heart and life for a good picket." he cursed as he drew near, the Shahari blade in hand. A prize won by his own blood, the grip creaked as he readied his grip, more guarded as the thrashing of the beast drew nearer. "Draw it to the narrows! Saint's Blood we need to make its size a disadvantage!" he called out. Testing the blade in his grip, wheeling it once before readying a charge before halting, watching Silversteel's plunge onto its back, the beast howled, thrashing and bucking against the swordsman. Hissing a curse as the beast managed to toss him, though now bleeding. Agrias charged on as the beast flashed past the alleyway. Chasing behind it as it gored the man, tossing him into barrels. Agrias couldn't help but laugh at how unphased Silversteel seemed from the blow as the beast bowled into the barrels right behind the man's narrow escape. Not wasting a opening Agrias rushed the beast, managing to duck the flashing tail before delivering a deep strike to its hip, cutting deep into the thigh before rolling away from the clawed kicks and thrashing tail as the beast scrambled to turn pacing and growling, flashing teeth and thrashing horn as he now watched them, hate-filled eyes weighing and judging its new prey, both now smelling of blood and meat to its nostrils, urging it to feast. "Seeing as how we have no pickets to break its charge, make for the narrows! We need to make its size a bane." he called out, keeping his blade between him and the beast as it stalked, circling watching for an opening. "Take the sabers from my hips, Steel... Slowly would be best, I'd rather not get charged until we're ready to move. "He kept his voice level, his eyes not leaving the beast's as he matched its slow circling, staying facing it not showing it an opening as he did his best to ignore the thrashing tail it lashed the ground and barrels with as it growled. "When I say run, we run for the alley, aye?" he called our as he took a step to the side, the beast's hip now wet and flushed with crimson fur. |
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| Samus | Feb 17 2014, 06:06 PM Post #84 |
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The Guardian
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Samus’ head span as he stumbled away from the carnage of the bloody path he’d carved through a section of ramshackle houses in the cavern. He’d backtracked to try and find Karia and the others of the Ensemble, but in doing so crossed paths with every corpse he’d cast down in his rage. With Uster’s death, his usual calm demeanour had returned to him, and he could do little to stop the disgust of his actions swelling inside him. A Shepherd of the Order; killing men. Regardless of their dark past or their ragged present, no man could judge another and take his life. Only Avaleria could do that. He said brief prayers over every man he found, all too aware of the hypocrisy of his actions. Were his teachers from the order here, or if Brother Martin could see him… They would curse him, he knew it. His shepherd’s robes dragged in the dirt beside him as he carried them in his hand. Samus felt as though he was torn in two. A part of him, represented by the shepherd’s robes in his left hand, demanded recompense for his actions. He had to don the robes, retake his vows and return to a solitary life where he could repent. Perhaps he should return to the order, beg their forgiveness and withstand any punishment they deemed necessary. In his right hand, however, the sword remained. There was something inside him, a beast of war and bloody battle. It stirred. As Samus neared the place where they had landed their ships, he saw a bloodied Scarlet Shield running towards the boats. The man was tall and skeleton thin with hair that was streaked with silver. The beast stirred within Samus, an older Scarlet Shield surely meant his presence at Valencia during the coup was assured. The man could have killed one of Samus’ friends that died that day. For all Samus knew, Uster could have lied. This man could be Tewdran or Lanset. Dropping the robes, Samus roared for the man to stop and he crossed the gap between them in leaps. His sword, wet with the blood of a dozen Scarlet Shields, swung viciously at the older man’s head. The mercenary dodged away and snarled his frustration at being stopped by a young man like Samus. “Out of my way boy!” He snapped as their swords collided. “Your name!” Samus demanded with a grimace. “Veskin. Tell it to your God when I send you down to whatever hell you fear.” Their blades connected again and again, and Veskin became more intense, more focused on the fight. Samus feared he was outmatched. The shepherd in him still held him back from the fight. Crusaders fight , he thought, Shepherds help the innocent. You are no Crusader Samus Orelian. Veskin danced away from him and stared intently at him. “I know your fighting style boy.” He grinned. “Is it possible…” He jabbed his blade and Samus swung his sword backwards, spinning it in his hand to slide along Veskin’s blade and perilously close to cutting his wrists. His father had taught him that. “You were trained by Markus Orelian.” Veskin said with a sneer. “He was my father.” Samus spat back. Veskin laughed and lunged forwards again, colliding with Samus, who desperately fought him off. There was no way he could win without the passion he’d felt when fighting Uster. “I’m the man that put a spear through his leg.” Veskin whispered when their blades met again and the two were as close as lovers. Samus roared and pushed Veskin away. With the confirmation that this man was there on that day, that he had nearly crippled his father, Samus leapt into the fray again, nearly killing Veskin with the series of attacks he unleashed and knocking him to the ground. As he darted forwards to bury the sword in Veskin’s chest, a body hurtled into him and Samus was thrown bodily away from the Scarlet Shield. As he groaned on the ground, a well-built man with the look of a Shahari stood over him. “Kill him Hassan!” Veskin spat as he stood. “He was there on the day of the coup!” “Get to the boat.” Hassan said in answer, pointing Veskin away. Without hesitating, Veskin ran from their small fight, though Samus watched him go with vehemence. The man stood above Samus stared into his eyes, then shook his head. “If you were truly there that day, you have suffered enough of the Scarlet Shields.” His eyes were full of pity, and Samus was stunned to find a man like this among the mercenaries. Living as a Shepherd, Samus knew kindness. Here, in this man, he saw a spark of it living true. “Hassan will not kill you today boy. But if you come for the Shields again, Hassan will take your head.” With that, the man ran from him, leaving Samus bruised and cold in the dirt, alone to wrestle with the internal battle for his soul; where the Shepherd fought to suppress the Beast. |
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| VexSting | Feb 20 2014, 10:45 PM Post #85 |
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Stagehand
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Tansa had been dealing with a few Sea Reavers by whipping them in the arms and ankles. She fell one of them by snapping her barbed whip at his ankles and pulled him off his feet. She whipped another one square in the face as he let out a scream while covering one of his bloody eyes. She heard what sounded like someone screaming and then a splash. She turned to see Cyrus rolling his shoulder and wincing a little. "Fuckers need to lose some weight." Tansa rolled her eyes and noticed a big shadow on the buldings. She walked over to Cyrus and tapped his better shoulder. "What is in alley?" She pointed and squinted her eyes. He also squinted. "Fuck if I know." And he charged towards the buldings. As Tansa got closer, she heard a roar. She froze once she saw the rust-colored tail swish up. "Bal'ith ... " she muttered under her breath. She sprinted into the alley and started whipping at its ears, with a loud snap and the occasional spark from the barbs scraping each other. She nicked it in the ears a few times before it let out a roar and shook its head. she kept whipping at it to keep it at bay. She whistled loudly in attempt to get the attention of the others. |
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| Ser Falcon of the Seventh Stream | Feb 22 2014, 06:53 PM Post #86 |
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Stagehand
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The trek to the shanty town was quick enough, and even quicker was the dispatching of the first couple of unfortunate goons that happened to be at the wrong place at the right time. Sickly snaps of their necks echoed about, they stood no chance. Zei shuddered for a moment, but she wasn't about to falter. She had personally put down about five of the pirates the evening before, and maybe injured a guard or two on accident. She'd have to make a note of donation to the city on her behalf for such an accident. They were given the role fo the distraction team, and she was going to do just that. Yet Silversteel's leadership proved just the thing that she was looking for. They weren't going to follow a strategy in which they might have no synergy for, but were instead allowed to fight as individuals to their strengths. In that way, they were free to do as they pleased. With a little assistance, Zei managed to scale up to one of the nearby ladders leading to a higher shanty built above a few others. A quick movement of her hand is all that she needs to draw an arrow from her quiver, and then notch it. She draws the string back, pressing it to her chin as she stands by the door. The moment the festivities begin, a drunken reaver bursts through with his weapon raised, looking to possibly asses the situation and sober up. She doesn't quite alleviate his headache, but rather adds to it. That arrow is loosened, and his head is pinned to the door. His body slumps, but is held fast by the arrow.There's a gasp from inside, and she knows that there's another. She draws an arrow, but doesn't notch it. She instead rushes into the shanty where she's met with a blade. It sings through the air, but the pirate may have been expecting something... larger. Were she not on the smaller end of the spectrum and wiry, that blow may have taken her head off. Instead, it slings slightly over head as she ducks to ensure it's out of her range, then leaps upon her assailant. The arrow is buried into his throat, but just to ensure that he's dead, she stabs him a few more times. It's only once he stops making a noise similar to gasping for air does she relent. She stands, takes in a deep breath, then looks about her surroundings. Truly not the finest of living conditions, but the promises of wealth and grandeur were always tantalizing to those of a weaker constitution. Instead of living a decent life working just as hard, they chose to live like this until a 'big score' happened. "Fat lot of good it does you now." She said, prodding the head of the one on the ground with a boot. "But at the very least, you'll get a proper sending. The Lady of Light welcomes all to be ju-" Before she could finish, an explosion rocks through the whole of the town. It seems that the explosion team had done their job beautifully. She takes a step forth, and plants her boot against the shutters against the window. They open with ease as she takes a look towards the general direction of smoke and flame billowing out of the cave. She purses her lips and whistles. "It seems that a number of your comrades are already on their way to her." After a brief respite to chuckle, she takes a look around. There were a number of higher shanties that she couldn't quite get a bead on if anyone were to come through the doors, but she had a complete view of what was going on in the town below. Burn the ones above, burn the ones below. It seemed simple enough. To that end, she slipped her bow back unto her shoulder as she moved a table to to the window. " I'm certain you lot have never read a book in your days, save for maybe the ones with pictures and lewd images. Still, do you know what "nemesis" means? A righteous infliction of retribution manifested by an appropriate agent." Once the desk was against the wall, she set about collecting the lantern and candles. However sparce, they would be needed. "In this instance, us." She licks her lips briefly, before lighting the candle up. "One Supreme reality Victory to the Lords, the Eternal Ones. May Almighty Lords and Ladies assist us, I speak the ode of Almighty Gods. Having first remembered the Gods and then I reflect on Father Saulturos. Then Saint Securus, Saint Arion and The First Shepards, may they help us. I reflect on the teachings of Arbiter Thanos, and the will of Inquisitor Christoph. I remember Athyria, by whose sight all the sufferings vanish. Then I do remember Alerion, through whose grace the nine blessings come my house. May they be helpful to us everywhere." Once she had finished, she sighed. "One day, uttering these prayers before fighting is going to get me killed." She rolls her head slightly, then reaches down to get another arrow. She doesn't have time to ignite it and aim for the shanties when she hears the commotion below, followed by the image of a great beast moving at a blur. "Distract that thing!" She heard the cry, and so raised her bow. Getting a bead on it was hard enough, but when it began to tear through buildings? That was even tougher. She curses beneath her breath and dips the tip of the arrow in oil, then brings that to a candle. Once it ignites, she opts to aim for one of the shanties above. The arrow is loosened and lands on a wall of one of the shanties. It's slow, but sure to spread. With a nod of her head, she reaches down to notch another arrow. "Get that monster out into the open!" She calls out. "I can't hit what I can't see!" |
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| Archbass | Feb 24 2014, 08:19 PM Post #87 |
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The Architect
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I need to surface any time now... Seth's last thought before he opened his eyes, let alone felt the lapping waves over his drifting body in the harbor, was a blessing in disguise. It nearly averted his thoughts about his shaking skin and his shivering. If he drifted any longer, he might have frozen to death, but he was lucky to survive the explosion. It quickly dawned on him that many others weren't so lucky. It then occurred to him that he helped set this all off. It was a weird feeling. He spent the better part of the past few minutes trying to tell himself just light it, and run away. Just light it, and run away, but now that he could gaze at the fire, smell it, and drift past the occasional bruised and bloody body in the water, he felt a little something that he had never felt in person. People would talk about it all the time in the Ensemble -- that rush one gets when a job is successful, or that they've done something heroic. Something they would brag about constantly. Something that Seth wanted to avoid doing for a number of reasons: It was in Avareux, six years ago when Ruezann approached him and Alex, gave her a sense of belonging and adventure that she had craved. It was six years ago when he saved them from the maliciousness of men seeking to deprive them of the little food they could gather--from stealing, yes, but that was what made Ruezann a kinder man. Kind would have been Seth's assessment--a flash of steel and a scowl was enough to seem threatening to men who would harm children. They ran away from a man who was in the right, but Seth never thought he owed him for it in return. To Alex, he was awesome. Seth refused to join the Ensemble then. He didn't want a life that would lead to so much movement. He just wanted to remain in place, a luxury that he and Alex could never afford. It was five years ago when Ruezann approached Seth, now an apprentice tailor, alone. Seth remembered vividly the garment he was working on at the time, his eyes fixed on the stitching and embroidery of a long, ornate, purple sash. He was stitching leaf-shaped golden embroidery along the hems. "Are you sure you'd like to go it alone like this?" Ruezann asked. He seemed to admire the garment, the way he stared at it from over his shoulder instead of looking towards Seth himself. "Yeah. I don't like it when someone hovers over my shoulder all the time," he wanted to say. But he had sewing needles clasped between his lips, so he only shook his head. "Besides, I don't like the rush that Alex gets." "And you know what that is?" Seth was tired of the question. He couldn't answer it without thinking of the streets, how it was not the life he wanted, how he longed to live within empty houses and own them. "...well, I mean, it's not really worth it if I can't just get away afterwards, is it?" And here, and now, Seth was as far away from 'getting away from it' as he had ever been. Alex was still out there. Alex. For once, he was the one to bail her out of some kind of trouble with something other than honeyed words and the right donation. Well, it was definitely more, since the fighting on the docks gave away -- inbetween his gasps for his air and his frantic strokes and kicks in the water -- that practically the whole Ensemble was there. He climbed ashore, keeping his head as low as he could. He picked up a plank of wood from the dock, and readied it as a crude weapon. Not that he could fight -- it had been six years since he could even think of wielding a weapon. It was shaking in his bare hands, surely filling his palms with splinters he would have no pleasure pulling after the fight. His heart beat, and his hands tensed around it. A stray Searever came his way. And in a twitch of a response he never rememberd having, he landed the board across the Seareaver's nose, leaving his face a bloodied mess and splattering bits of cartilage, blood, and snot over his own person. It didn't take long for him to grab the cutlass instead. It was heavier than his plank, but he figured if it was this easy to fall into this pattern again, he could wield a blade a little bigger than the shanks he and Alex used to use. If Alex could learn to wield a knife, how hard could it be to fight with shaking hands, shaking legs, and someone else's cocktail of blood and snot spread over his sleeve? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "You all can just stop right there!" a Scarlet said at a bit of an impasse -- a large wooden platform, with one line of planks between the path to Alex Lerender and Priscilla Harmon deeper into the cave, and two Scarlet Shields standing in the way. One was a reed of a man, with a long head and helmet to match. His partner a more squat man who came only to his chest, but had enough beef on him to bulge past several plates of armor on his biceps. The former wielded a long, thin blade, and the latter a hammer clasped in both hands. "And face us!" the other one said. To Fraye, there could never be a better opportunity to get to work. She cracked her knuckles. "Relax," Fraye said. "Baragos and I got this. Oi, Moss!" She drew her blade and pointed it at the tall one. The process of her nicknaming habit was as predictable as ever...in that only one detail would latch itself onto one detail and never let go. For the tall scarlet, it was the corner of mold on his tabard, creeping into view like an obsessive hand massaging an unwanting shoulder. "I challenge ye. You're a knight, right?" "Moss" did not answer. He lifted his visor just to get a better look at Fraye -- from his point of view, he must have been staring at a young woman with darkened skin, striking green eyes, and dark hair, her eyes fixated somewhere vaguely on his chest. She'd definitely be a street rat, and someone that he'd be able to knock over with a stiff kick. That's what he thought until Baragos stepped beside her. "So you'll fight us then." "And you, Shorty." "Agate," Fraye said. This time, she fixated on something glistening in the short one's pocket--something green, and clearly something of value, but not quite an emerald, she guessed. "Agate," Baragos said. "You're mine." He drew his own blade. He nodded at the others. "We've got this." "Ayup! Trust us on that much." "Moss" and "Agate" nod to each other, and step out of the way to begin their duel... |
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| Leanansidhe | Feb 25 2014, 07:01 PM Post #88 |
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Stagehand
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Despite his size, Tuomas' steps made no sound as he moved through the smoke filled shanty town trailing his captain via the bodies in her wake. The kills grew fresher indicating he was gaining on her. He hastily rounded a corner, instantly he cursed his carelessness as a meaty fist took him full in the face staggering him. Warm blood began to cover his lip as he heard a familiar voice. "Bastriel the Bloodletter, Lieutenant of Skarsgard." said the familiar voice filling the air with mocking laughter, "Now just a fucking Twin Mask dog. This has been a long time coming. Time to pay for what you did to us that day." Tuomas' eyes were bleary with tears from his broken nose, but he knew that voice. Remembered it as well as his own mother's. He stood waiting for his vision to clear expecting a second voice to speak. He did not have to wait long. The second voice made a "tch." sound, "Never thought you fool enough to wander around this place alone. The captain would give a man his weight in gold to have you alive. So, you can understand just how much we want our revenge when we kill you." Tuomas was back on the Fleur de Sang, his ship. It was a dark chapter in his life. He was the Bloodletter not know for mercy. But every man has a line they won't cross. Everyone on his crew knew his. Which explained his rage when he discovered Lestrad and Val in the hold. Beneath them was a girl of maybe 15. She was naked and crying. Tuomas roared his blade finding his hand. He ignored the men's feeble apologies and cries for mercy as he kicked them off her. Lestrad was unfortunate enough to fall onto his back, still aroused... In his disgust Tuomas emasculated the man leaving him to squeal as he turned on Val who had found his feet though he too was naked. Tuomas' rage was an all consuming fire. Simple castration didn't seem enough now. Val had always been a ladies man, bragging of his good looks. Tuomas advanced on the man, sinking his blade into the floor boards as he balled his fists. He lost track of time as he beat the man with his bare hands. When he finally stopped Val's face was a bloody pulp of shattered bone and bleeding skin. He turned to the young girl who was horrified and still weeping, "Shhh. You're safe now." he assured her. Then he gently picked her up and carried her to his cabin. He slept on the deck over the next five nights as the ships physician tended the girl. When they made port Tuomas sent her away with Val and Lestrad's share of the bounty they had acquired. Tuomas grinned now, blood trickling off his chin, "You couldn't then Val. Neither could you Lestrad. Nothing has changed since that day to make me believe you can. Be thankful I was merciful and run along before I do what I should have done then." Both men answered drawing steel, just as Tuomas had expected. Lestrad's chest suddenly sprouted the hilt of his silver ensemble dagger. Tuomas found that to be fitting since it was he who'd called a Twin Mask a dog. Val's eye's bulged as he advanced making his already grotesque face look even more repulsive. Val brought his sword down in an arc that Tuomas parried trying to draw the man in closer to nullify his reach. Val wasn't biting as he suddenly seemed less confident, remembering how Tuomas had won the name "Bloodletter." Val kept the exchanges quick growing evermore fearful. Tuomas just waited for the opening he knew would come. Patience was rewarded as Val feinted a thrust losing his balance instinctively raising his arms to compensate. Tuomas lunged, driving the tip of his blade between the third and fourth rib in a motion so familiar it was almost automatic. The blade pierced Val's heart, the man coughed a great glob of blood as he stared at Tuomas. Tuomas let the man slide to the ground, spitting on him, "To hell with you both. I never should have let you live this long." A deafening roar caused Tuomas to spin in place. He heard frantic shouts from where the distraction team had landed. He retrieved his dagger from the dead man's chest and sprinted down his back trail. Once he reached the source of the commotion, he skidded to a halt. Silversteel was over near Agrias. Tuomas spied Silversteel's daggers sunk into the back of the beast. Seeing that it could bleed and its attention was fixed on the other pair he dashed forward slashing his blade at the muscle in lower portion of the creature's right rear leg, attempting to at least slow if not lame the creature. He rushed back as the creature roared spinning on him. "Shit." Tuomas said, "Of all the ways this could have gotten fucked, I never expected to be eaten." |
| I once took my knee to an arrow... | |
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| Karia Morsenia | Mar 2 2014, 07:34 PM Post #89 |
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Dragoness of Spellsongs
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The battle with the beast was growing tiresome. Karia and her group had continued to fight it and distract it, trying to exploit weaknesses, but to no avail. There was still no sign of Alex or Priscilla, which gripped Karia in a cold fear that their enemies had already fled with the girls and are already long gone, making everything all for nothing. From the corner of her eye that's when she noticed the fierce Tansa cracking her whip at the beast's ears and heard her whistle, and sprinted over to her with some of her last reserves of energy. She ignored the burning in her muscles and joints as she waved Tansa down. "Tansa!" She ran up to her and pointed at the enraged beast their friends were working to take down. "Do you....ugh, do you know anything about this creature? Its weakness?" Karia managed to say through panting. It felt like ages since she first started fighting the thing. The entire battle, actually. "We need to take it down quickly, Tansa. What do you know?" ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ From within the shadows Reyna had followed her prey, whom she now watched with hunger in her eyes. It was hell getting out of this deal alive, far more trouble than she originally imagined, and still the crystals weren't in her hands. No matter, she'd have to rig another bargain for more later. With a smile planted on her lips she casually walked out of the dark to stand in the path of Castilla and her group. A bloodied sword was gripped hilt downward in her hand, ready to flip out in a clean swipe at any moment. "I'll be relieving you of one of your charges now, Castilla. Hand over the Harmon girl. I need insurance to get off this isle, and she's my way out," Reyna said with a motion of her head at Priscilla. "Neither of them are going with you, Reyna." A smirk played across the lips a devil kissed, Reyna's head tilting back in a mock laugh. "I knew you'd turn on me for that Morsenia bitch, you back-stabbing whore. Couldn't resist her deal, could you?" The priestess held her hand out to Reyna. "Reyna, please..." "What, Yolanda? I will ensure my survival. You come with me as well," Reyna said with force. Yolanda backed away towards a corner and sobbed while shaking her head. "No, I won't go with you." "Suit yourself. You were always weak," the pirate captain said with a mere shrug in her tone. "Now I grow tired of games, dear Castilla. Give her to me." Reyna's blade flashed like silver moonlight and swiped the air between her and Castilla, forcing Castilla to raise her own blade and take a step back. From behind her back, Castilla pressed the curious dagger with the word Kezia on it into Priscilla's hands, only sparing Priscilla a sharp glance, otherwise keeping her attention on the pirate captain as she moved the two girls behind her with her arms. "Keep behind me, doves, and you may live." Castilla lashed out in a spin to push Reyna back, the blades from both women dancing between the constantly moving duo. Reyna went around Castilla's parry and caught the firm woman off guard, throwing her off balance. She went down on her knees from Reyna's kick in the side, and the pommel of Reyna's sword slammed down where Castilla's shoulder met her neck. A cry tore from Castilla, followed by her body dropping the rest of the way to the ground. Reyna walked towards the cowering girls and grabbed a hold of Priscilla. "Change of company, darling. You'll be joining me now." Reyna's power intimidated Priscilla and Yolanda, but Alex held tight to her dagger and raised it up. "N-no, you--" "Ha, you child," Reyna growled as she dodged Alex's lunge and smacked her hilt down on Alex's outstretched arm, proceeding to twist the dagger from her fingers and in one fluid movement and stabbed at her side. A flesh wound to put Alex on the ground in pain to hinder her from following. Satisfied, Reyna dropped the dagger next to the whimpering girl clutching her side, leaving no one else to oppose the pirate captain as she dragged Priscilla away and back into the shadows, towards the ship of her dealers close by with her prize in hand. |
| “Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow.” | |
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| VexSting | Mar 11 2014, 10:54 PM Post #90 |
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Stagehand
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Tansa stared at Karia for a few seconds. She raised her eyebrows once she understood the question. "It need sound to see." She Kept cracking her whip to keep the beast cornered. She thought hard to find the words in she needed to say. "It live in cave," she said. She made a circular motion with one hand and cracked the whip in the other hand periodically, having trouble formulate words from her native tongue to Common. She looked around and a thought of inspiration flooded her eyes. "No sound in water!" She pointed to the the water. "It big and heavy! No swim! Lead like sheep!" |
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