silavor
Member
- Last Seen: 3 yrs ago
- Old Guild Username: silavor
- Joined: 10 yrs ago
- Posts: 48 (0.01 / day)
- VMs: 0
-
Username history
- silavor 10 yrs ago
Status
User has no status, yet
Bio
User has no bio, yet
Most Recent Posts
Woo! The paddles always work!
It would be most unfortunate if it was.
I hope none of us in the middle of town (ie. Grey, Barst, Faris) were waiting on Ereshk to do something. He's kind of being an absent-minded follower right now, so I don't really have much to say.
I hope none of us in the middle of town (ie. Grey, Barst, Faris) were waiting on Ereshk to do something. He's kind of being an absent-minded follower right now, so I don't really have much to say.
Ereshk tilted his head curiously as Greyson began to rapidly recover from his injuries. Was this magic? Yes, it had to be some sort of healing spell, but from where? Ereshk followed Greyson's gaze, and sure enough there was a brief glow from a rooftop a few streets over. A long-distance healing spell? Was that even possible? Though he would never admit it, Ereshk's knowledge of the more passive forms of magic was decidedly lacking. The Master only ever gave lectures on the destructive aspects of magic. Fireballs, slicing shadows, purging light, those were the spells Ereshk had been taught how to deal with. Knitting flesh was utterly foreign.
"Lead on then," the dark mage piped in with a smile, turning back to face Greyson Onyx. "I'll help out for as long as I can." Ereshk was very deliberately keeping his gaze focused on Greyson. Somewhere deep inside he knew what he had done with his spells, but for the moment his carnage was out of sight and out of mind. The mage intended to keep it that way for as long as possible tonight; he'd just be a burden if he fainted again.
"Lead on then," the dark mage piped in with a smile, turning back to face Greyson Onyx. "I'll help out for as long as I can." Ereshk was very deliberately keeping his gaze focused on Greyson. Somewhere deep inside he knew what he had done with his spells, but for the moment his carnage was out of sight and out of mind. The mage intended to keep it that way for as long as possible tonight; he'd just be a burden if he fainted again.
Freeshooter92 said
Going to get to postin' soonish.
Woo! :D
Has anyone seen wolfboy lately?
Double double toil and trouble
Everyone works a double double!
It's definitely not dying, just waiting for the real world to give people a chance to reply.
Everyone works a double double!
It's definitely not dying, just waiting for the real world to give people a chance to reply.
I picture Ereshk as more of a Canas than a Tharja, if you know what I mean.
And was that a valid display of theatrics? He did try to wait for the signal. I'm gonna wait for wolfboy and applethief before doing anything else.
And was that a valid display of theatrics? He did try to wait for the signal. I'm gonna wait for wolfboy and applethief before doing anything else.
So we strike again, then?
No. Not until the man named Greyson Onyx gives the signal.
We want their blood. We need their blood!
Wait for the signal.
Sometimes there were benefits to being a tiny shrimp. Ereshk huddled behind Grey Onyx, hiding from the sight of the bandits. He realized as he did so that he was also keeping the sight of the bandit's blood hidden from himself. His concentration remained intact so long as the blood stayed hidden, and so the shaman's soft chanting continued unbroken. It was nothing more than whispers in the wind, white noise that echoed in an eldritch tongue.
Suddenly Grey Onyx snapped his fingers. The signal. That was the signal! Ereshk released the pressure building within his essence. Another surge of power burst forth from the mage's body, manifesting as writhing tendrils that hid in the shadows. Once more they slid underneath Grey Onyx, ignoring the man completely in their mad race to the target. With sadistic glee the raging shadows lunged towards the injured bandit, silencing his screams of agony. More of that delicious pink mist wafted into the air, oozing out of the chunks of gooey flesh and staining the street below.
Ereshk, meanwhile, had shut his eyes the moment he had released his spell. Shrouded in the comforting darkness of the void, he remained blissfully ignorant of the mess his spells had made.
No. Not until the man named Greyson Onyx gives the signal.
We want their blood. We need their blood!
Wait for the signal.
Sometimes there were benefits to being a tiny shrimp. Ereshk huddled behind Grey Onyx, hiding from the sight of the bandits. He realized as he did so that he was also keeping the sight of the bandit's blood hidden from himself. His concentration remained intact so long as the blood stayed hidden, and so the shaman's soft chanting continued unbroken. It was nothing more than whispers in the wind, white noise that echoed in an eldritch tongue.
Suddenly Grey Onyx snapped his fingers. The signal. That was the signal! Ereshk released the pressure building within his essence. Another surge of power burst forth from the mage's body, manifesting as writhing tendrils that hid in the shadows. Once more they slid underneath Grey Onyx, ignoring the man completely in their mad race to the target. With sadistic glee the raging shadows lunged towards the injured bandit, silencing his screams of agony. More of that delicious pink mist wafted into the air, oozing out of the chunks of gooey flesh and staining the street below.
Ereshk, meanwhile, had shut his eyes the moment he had released his spell. Shrouded in the comforting darkness of the void, he remained blissfully ignorant of the mess his spells had made.
"Ereshk," the mage stated quietly as the man named Greyson Onyx tossed him back his grimoire. "My name is Ereshk, and I will not let you die here this day." Ereshk started wiping off the blood on his book with his sleeve. He swallowed as hard as he could, desperately trying to force the bile back down.
This is it. This is what being a mercenary is about. The dark mage cracked open his massive spellbook, quickly flicking through the pages to the one he had bookmarked. This is the life you chose. Get used to it. Ereshk began chanting in the odd language of elder magic. He stretched his mind out into the void. Feeling its infinite darkness, he channeled that power through himself as he approached the doorway to the house. An eerie calm fell over the mage as he continued to chant. There was no rage within Ereshk this time, no emotion for the darkness to devour. He was simply a living conduit of the infinite void; cold, emotionless, and eternally hungry.
Five bandits were in the street out front. The man named Greyson Onyx stood between the bandits and Ereshk, trying to intimidate the enemy. It did not appear to be working very well. Ereshk stood behind the man named Greyson Onyx, using him as a shield of living meat. The dark mage peeked his head out around the side of the man and found his first target. The infinite void coursing through his soul was unleashed. Like a burst dam, a sudden surge of shadow rushed out from Ereshk's body. Tendrils of darkness zipped along the ground, passing harmlessly under the man named Greyson Onyx, before lunging up like savage wolves at the bandit closest to the house. Armour. Muscle. Flesh. Bone. None of it meant anything to the tendrils of flux. What did these primitive mountain apes know of the Void? Nothing. They had no resistance to the power surging from within Ereshk. Their only defense was their sheer bulk. The mage canted his head curiously as he continued to chant softly in a foreign tongue. His target was not dead. The man, though grievously wounded, still clung to life. His delicious crimson blood oozed out of numerous gashes all over his body, and yet somehow, the man still stood.
That had to be rectified. The Void hungered. It demanded that Ereshk feed it, and the dark mage was compelled to comply.
This is it. This is what being a mercenary is about. The dark mage cracked open his massive spellbook, quickly flicking through the pages to the one he had bookmarked. This is the life you chose. Get used to it. Ereshk began chanting in the odd language of elder magic. He stretched his mind out into the void. Feeling its infinite darkness, he channeled that power through himself as he approached the doorway to the house. An eerie calm fell over the mage as he continued to chant. There was no rage within Ereshk this time, no emotion for the darkness to devour. He was simply a living conduit of the infinite void; cold, emotionless, and eternally hungry.
Five bandits were in the street out front. The man named Greyson Onyx stood between the bandits and Ereshk, trying to intimidate the enemy. It did not appear to be working very well. Ereshk stood behind the man named Greyson Onyx, using him as a shield of living meat. The dark mage peeked his head out around the side of the man and found his first target. The infinite void coursing through his soul was unleashed. Like a burst dam, a sudden surge of shadow rushed out from Ereshk's body. Tendrils of darkness zipped along the ground, passing harmlessly under the man named Greyson Onyx, before lunging up like savage wolves at the bandit closest to the house. Armour. Muscle. Flesh. Bone. None of it meant anything to the tendrils of flux. What did these primitive mountain apes know of the Void? Nothing. They had no resistance to the power surging from within Ereshk. Their only defense was their sheer bulk. The mage canted his head curiously as he continued to chant softly in a foreign tongue. His target was not dead. The man, though grievously wounded, still clung to life. His delicious crimson blood oozed out of numerous gashes all over his body, and yet somehow, the man still stood.
That had to be rectified. The Void hungered. It demanded that Ereshk feed it, and the dark mage was compelled to comply.
StarInaBox said
Well since another wounded man has stumbled in to the house we were in, claiming that there are a few bandits close by, I think names can wait. Killing bandits comes first. Does Ereshk feel up to killing some more or is his stomach still a little upset?
He should be fine, at least for a little while. However, there is still one major issue facing him:
"I appear to have lost my spellbook," he began, speaking slow and steady. "I won't be of much help to anyone until I get it back."
That's why I was waiting to see if Grey would do something first.
© 2007-2024