[center] [h1][b][u]Dakari[/u][/b][/h1] [/center] [hr] Dakari, Jakri, and Adara returned to their village in a solemn mood. The sentries eyed them warily. “Dakari,” one of them said, eying the black-haired angel warily. “Where’s the rest of your warband? Where is Ashara?” “Dead,” Dakari answered grimly. The sentry’s eyes narrowed. “And you ran?” “Only after Ashara was killed,” Dakari glared. “But my report is for Madora. Not you. Stand aside.” The sentry glared back but dutifully stood aside. The village was a collection of huts; wooden frames supporting mud walls with roofs of leaves and thatch. On the outskirts, makeshift shelters of branches, leaves, and animal hides had been erected, for those who had recently joined the village but had yet to have their own huts built. The largest building was in the center, and it naturally belonged to their leader; Adora. As they neared Madora’s hut, they could hear screams elsewhere in the village. “They’re still torturing him?” Jakri asked, sounding surprised. “I thought he’d be dead by the time we got back.” “I wonder if they got anything useful out of him,” Adara said aloud. “They haven’t,” Dakari growled. “Torture’s a waste of time. Relying on the enemy for information?” He shook his head. “They’ll just tell you whatever they think will make the pain stop, whether it’s true or not. Better to trust in your own eyes and ears.” Another scream came, as if to punctuate his statement, and the three continued to the hut. Another guard was posted outside. “Dakari,” the guard said, her expression blank. “I’m here to see Madora,” Dakari told her. “Ashara is dead.” “War Mother damn them,” the guard cursed. “Go on in, then.” Dakari pushed aside the tent flap, stepping into the hut, as his two surviving companions followed behind him. In the center of the hut was a woman, seated at a chair, with a crude map of animal hide stretched out across the table in front of her. She looked up as Dakari entered. “What’s this I hear about Madora being dead?” “She wanted us to ambush an Oraeliari patrol, deep in their territory,” Dakari answered. “Turns out they knew we were coming and had an ambush of their own. We were surrounded, but fought as hard as we could. After Ashara died, I rallied the survivors and we fought our way out. We’re all that’s left.” Madora stared at him for a moment, and then her gaze shifted to the two figures standing behind him. “Is this true?” “Yes,” Jakri and Adara both said, almost in unison. It was in their best interest to support the lie, for if word got out that they were healed by an Oraeliari, they would disgrace themselves as well as Dakari. They were his now, whether they liked it or not. Madora shifted her gaze back to Dakari, and then frowned. “Why are you holding your head high like you expect some sort of reward?” she demanded. “My lady?” Dakari asked, confused. “I could hear the smugness in your voice,” she countered sourly. “You didn’t win any victories out there. You just survived. You think we can afford to award our people just for every day they go without dying?” She shook her head. “Nonsense.” “My lady,” Dakari continued, with a furrowed brow. “For every Neiyari that was lost, three Oraeliari were killed. I managed to get these two back alive, and tell you what happened. Surely it’s better to lose nine fighters and know about it, than to lose a dozen fighters and not know? Ashara was in command. I merely salvaged her defeat. She is the one who must answer-” “Ashara answered with her life,” Madora cut him off. “As you should have done. We live for Neiyara, we fight for Neiyara, and we die for Neiyara.” [i]We kill for Neiyara too,[/i] Dakari thought bitterly. [i]Can’t do that if we’re dead, can we?[/i] But he kept that thought to himself, for to continue arguing with her would be seen as defiance, and would therefore be punished. Instead he allowed his expression to curl deeper into a frown. “Go on,” Madora said after a moment, waving a dismissive hand. Dakari had first thought it was an invitation to speak his mind, but then she continued. “Leave,” she instructed. “When I send you into battle again, your courage will not be found wanting. Am I clear?” He grit his teeth. She claimed he lacked courage? He who had stood against three foes at once, while she sat comfortably behind a desk? But he only nodded his head in response, as he was trained to do, and then left the building. Dakari was sick of this. He was the best fighter here, and after the events of the previous day, perhaps the best leader. Yet his talents went underutilized, and underappreciated. A sharp scream interrupted his resentful thoughts, and he clenched his fist in irritation. [hr] [i]Later that day…[/i] The Oraeliari winced as the footsteps approached, knowing more pain was to come. His wounds had healed, but he could still recall the pain as the blades carved his skin. He could not even see his latest torturer, for it was too dark. There didn’t seem to be anyone else, either, which was rather strange: most of the time, his torture occurred in front of an audience. Still, he closed his eyes, and prepared himself for the pain that would inevitably follow. Then a sharp blade ran across his throat. Blood surged forth from the wound, and he couldn’t breathe. He began to choke, and as he choked, he found himself growing increasingly light-headed, until finally, darkness took him, and he knew no more. [hr] “Who did this!?” Madora demanded before the assembled village, as she stood before the Oraeliari’s corpse, still tied to the post with a slit throat. “I will find who did this. If they come forward now, their death will be swift. If not, they’ll take his place,” she gestured to the corpse. None spoke. Dakari noticed Adara and Jakri were eying him somewhat nervously, correctly suspecting that he was responsible, but they said nothing. It was Dakari who spoke next. “Why didn’t you have a guard watching him?” he asked. Madora’s gaze rounded on Dakari with a stone-cold fury. “I do not need to justify myself to a worm like you,” she snarled. “Was it you?” Dakari shook his head. “It was not. I’m just saying, though, if you had a guard watching over him… this wouldn’t have happened. To tell the truth, I don’t think you’re fit to lead us.” Time seemed to stand still as Madora stared at him. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. Everyone’s full attention was fixated on the two. Then, finally, Madora broke the silence by gesturing to two Neiyari next to Dakari. “Kill him.” They hesitated, but then reached for their weapons. The hesitation killed them, for Dakari spun and swept his glaive across the throat of the one on his left, then thrust the butt of the weapon into the stomach of the Neiyari on the right. “Kill me yourself,” he spat toward Madora, as he began to advance. “I challenge you for leadership. Unless you’re too cowardly to accept?” Her rage returned, and in a flash her sword was out. She rushed toward Dakari, and swung for his head. It was an impressive swing, all things considered; fast and powerful. Madora was no slouch in swordsmanship. However, it had been some time since she had last fought on the field of battle, and Dakari had seen the attack coming. He parried it, and then thrust his weapon into her gut. But even with a blade in her stomach, she still put up a fight, swinging her sword at him again. Dakari’s left hand let go of the glaive and seized her wrist, stopping it before it could land. Madora glared at him with hatred, before suddenly losing her grip on the sword and slumping to her knees. He kicked her off his glaive, and turned to face the crowd. “I have slain our chieftain, and claim leadership over the tribe!” he declared. “Does anyone dare contest me?” Three did. One by one, they challenged him. One by one, he cut them down in single combat. When it was over, he stood over the three bodies, and thrust his glaive into the ground. “It is settled, then. From this day forward, you answer to me! Unlike her, I’ll not throw your lives away on pointless skirmishes. When we battle, it will serve a purpose. I’ll have no more pointless torturings either, and when we make a deal, we will honour it. I’ll stand with you on the field of battle, and I’ll not sacrifice a single Neiyari without purpose. By the War Mother and the Consort, this I swear!” A few actually voiced their approval at that. In truth, Dakari was not an unpopular man among the village. They respected him. It was part of why leaders such as Madora and Ashara had disdained him. He was popular, competent, and willing to question them when they misstepped. That made them think he was dangerous. And they were right, because Madora was dead and he now led in her place. The rest accepted the decision as well. They might not have been particularly enthusiastic about Dakari, but they weren’t particularly loyal to Madora either. They cared little about who led them, so long as that leader was capable. A few, however, appeared resentful, and Dakari knew he would have to keep his eye on them. Dakari was just about to order them back to their stations, when the sound of clapping could be heard within his mind. [color=violet][i]Well done, well done![/i][/color] a deep voice boomed, and from the startled reactions of the other Neiyari, Dakari realized it was speaking to them as well. [color=violet][i]Though, I would thank you not to call me ‘The Consort.’ I am far, far more than that,[/i][/color] the God of Perfection spoke with clear annoyance. [color=violet][i]Anyhow,[/i][/color] the God went on, [color=violet][i]You’ve made an oath in my name, and I expect you to honour it. In the meantime, I think I’ll name you my champion.[/i][/color] Dakari’s eyes widened. He had not expected this little coup to attract the attention of Cadiri. He was not the War Mother, but still… to have drawn the eye of a god? He fell to one knee, and the rest of the village quickly followed. “You, you honour me, my lord…” he said. [color=violet][i]I do indeed,[/i][/color] the God said, and Dakari felt the God’s blessing wash over him. The glow of his glaive turned from a golden light to a bright purple. [color=violet][i]It is rather uncommon to find such integrity among your kind. Many, in their shortsightedness, fail to see the purpose. Now go forth and lead your people to glory.[/i][/color] A small smile appeared on Dakari’s face. In just one day, he had gone from a common warrior to the leader of a tribe and the champion of a god. And in that moment, his mind swelled with ambition. He could become a Saint… or, failing that, an equal to them in all but name. The Neiyari would flock to him, and he would lead them to victory against their greatest enemy. Perhaps he might even rival Aveira… He thought of the Oraeliari leader he had met earlier… Allura, was it? [i]You should have tried to kill me,[/i] he thought. [i]You had no idea…[/i] He rose to his feet. “The God has spoken,” he declared. “I am Chosen. The rest of you, though, you still have work to do. Get back to it!” [hr] [hider=Post Summary] Dakari returns to the village. They overhear the sound of an Oraeliari being tortured, and Dakari lectures his two companions on why torture is dumb. He then goes to the chieftain’s hut to report on the skirmish. The chieftain, Madora, is not happy that Ashara died. She also implies that Dakari is a coward, and states that he deserves no reward for surviving, because at the end of the day the battle was still a loss. She then sends a very irritated and bitter Dakari away. That night, Dakari mercy-kills the tortured Oraeliari. In the morning, Ashara is angry and wants to know who did it. Dakari does not admit to it, but he points out that she probably should have put the prisoner under guard if she didn’t want that to happen. He then calls her out for being a poor leader and challenges her to a duel. He kills her. A few more people then proceed to challenge Dakari, but he kills them as well. Finally, the majority of the village seems to accept his authority. Dakari gives a short speech which manages to win Cadien’s approval. [/hider] [hider=MP Summary] [u]Cadien[/u] [b]Beginning MP:[/b] 5 [b]Beginning DP:[/b] 5 -2DP to grant Dakari the title ‘Battlemaster II.’ Dakari automatically becomes proficient in any conventional weapon he lays his hands on. True mastery, however, will still need to be attained through practice. -2DP to grant Dakari the title ‘Always Armed II.’ Dakari no longer produces sunlight weaponry. Instead, he produces weapons made of a glowing purple energy. Like the sunlight weapons, these are as strong as steel, but unlike them they do not gain any additional bonus against creatures of the night. He can do this during both night and day, and they take only a few seconds to summon. -1DP to grant Dakari the title of ‘Inspiring Aura I.’ On the battlefield, while Dakari still projects an aura of fear, those who follow him will also become more courageous, and more trusting in his abilities. -3MP to claim the Melee portfolio. [/hider] [hider=Prestige] [u]Dakari[/u] [b]Beginning Prestige:[/b] 0 +5 for 10k+ characters. [b]Ending Prestige:[/b] 5 [/hider]