[img]https://i.imgur.com/q9Hq2SQ.png[/img] [color=gray] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mApeJL0.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/rUzyFdp.png[/img] [color=ee82ed]Race:[/color] Silver-Wolf Shifter [color=ee82ed]Class:[/color] Arcane Mystic [color=ee82ed]Location:[/color] Bar [color=ee82ed]Interactions:[/color], [@Funnyguy] Wendel (Miris), [@Potter] Arya, Necromancer Mentions: [@oso] Bastion, Gears [@princess] Phia, [color=ee82ed]Equipment:[/color] [hider=Equipment List] 🐾 Special Magic Item: A magically enchanted Haori garb of snow🐾white fabric made of a mix of various creature materials and what few rare magic crystals scrounged. It enables the haori’s internal temperature to be adjusted to keep the user at the optimal temperature within feasible degree and minor elemental resistance of the basic 4 elements imbued. 🐾Oruna tribal moon bracelet: a charm bracelet made in pairs, sharing a deep bond. Those of the tribe share them with a close friend, cherished family member, or lifemate who holds a fanged tooth, one for each of those most trusted and loved. 🐾Small pouch holding emergency dried meat and any fresh fruit picked 🐾Small pouch of freshwater 🐾Sewing kit 🐾Small tool kit 🐾Small gold pouch (17) 🐾A partially started personal journal 🐾A personal dear drawing hidden on his person[/hider] [color=ee82ed]Attire:[/color] [color=ee82ed]Gold Balance:[/color]17 [color=ee82ed]Injuries:[/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/q9Hq2SQ.png[/img][/center] The wolf sat, a hint of remorse in his posture; a hesitant twitch of the fingers gingerly gripping the pencil hovering an inch from the page. A small exhale as the tip touched the page with the faintest scritch- Upon contact, his body paused, froze in place as curious eyes widened with a building sense of unease with the tiniest pink spark that crackled beneath the pencil. Following in its wake came a vibrational shift sourced from deeper within the airship, a powerful blast of highly condensed arcane magic that howled and snarled throughout the ship, scant milliseconds before the deep rumbling along its heel. His body, highly sensitive to the arcane energy from years of hunting within the magic-enriched parts of the jungle, where he breathed, seeped, and bathed in the various forces, even when threatened by sickness from mana overload. Painful and foolishly risky, yes, but necessary to compensate for where his innate weaker connection lacked. Then learn, seek, and improve, like his wolf skills, he honed and pushed everything to breaking with adaptability and caution always kept on his mind. Instinct told him what he needed to do: gather a film of arcane about his body to protect against the oncoming blast threatening to tear through the deck, the immense concussion likely to wreck his hyperly tuned and sensitive body, especially. But- [color=#f97fca]“Please watch over the goddess in my absence.”[/color] Phia’s gentle reminding touch warmed against his shoulder. The wolf was jumping up to his feet, and the pencil was hastily discarded to rest the hand against the bar railing to brace himself somewhat.” [color=ee82ed]Everyone! Lady Arya Get d-![/color]” He attempted to howl out the warning while trying to dash to the tiefling side to shield her when- [center]-BOOM-[/center] The sound struck first; a shockwave that forced his body to halt mid-way, his ears jerked rigid like nails being hammered straight down through them into his brain. Eyes nearly rolled from blacking out, then the concussion struck, flinging his body against the bar with a harsh creaking slam with an explosive, pained huff, the only ounce of sound his blood gritted teeth allowed escape. Menzai was left bent sprawled over the counter, intense trembling waves of convulsion wrecked through his paralyzed body; mind stunned and deeply adrift in a muddled fog as pain burned through like he had been bathed in lava while the continous cacophonous sounds of shattering bottles and cracking wood left his bleeding ears ringing in pleading mercy to cease as his head pounded with the motherload of a migraine bomb that felt as if his brain sat in a vat of sizzling acid. Dazed and barely coherent or able to make sense of where he was, the multitude of tenuous sensations and blinding lights popped like glittery flashes of tremendous hurt. Only the repetitive focus of breathing kept his teetering consciousness grounded, his body tense and rigid, visibly highly stressed with alertness, with a face fighting to let slip any further weakness, cursing his momentary hesitation. Discarding the frustrations as fretting served to do nothing but waste time and every second delayed meant another life in danger as a deathly silence had seemingly followed after the thunderous concussion subsided as sucking all the sound and air away with it. A spine-chilling cold soon filled the air, which left the wolf trembling even when the haori’s properties offered inner warmth. Straining to turn his ears to hear the faintest slithering sound that made his goosepimply skin crawl; a wincing groan as he forced his head to tilt to peer over his shoulder the effort causing fresh bouts of mind numbing pain and again nearly fainted, but then wide perturbed deep blue eyes saw the stinous black coils slithering about the deck, black smogs rising like living shadows, formless and terrifying at first then shapes began molding and forming until 8 darkly armored figures arose wearing stark red hoods. Their menacing aura is anything but an imposing promise of death. His mind nearly spiraled with thoughts as he witnessed the ominous figures, a part of him straining to get up and leap at them but his body refused to listen, stunned by the sparse pink arcane energy swirling in a chaotic flux; overloaded from the sudden bombardment that felt like being shocked at random intervals by his own amped up arcane energy. Then a terrified, shrill scream broke the silence, ripping the silent veil that held pause to the now ensuing panic, the rumbling groan of the airship muffled by the rapid, panic-stricken stampeding for safety, but it was quickly evident that it had been what they wanted. Their scared cries, the countless raucous footsteps grating his ears with a fresh onslaught; a partial deafness offering him a modicum of mercy in this endless noise storm roaring like fireworks all about. * [b][color=ee82ed]N-Need..to dispel the excess..get..get my core under control.[/color][/b]* Panted the wolf internally; refusing to let himself remain useless when others had sprung into action such as Bastion who acted without hesitation, undisturbed by the concussive blast, his bulk built forged body proving an unmoving wall, though could not help but worry for Madam Gears, unsure how the arcane blast may affect her. Shaking his head with a stubborn growl of refusal, clawed hands pressing firmly against the counter, sharp fangs gritted in a fighting snarl, and through sheer stubborn will, forcefully pushed himself up, making it part-wa,y with his body hovering, bent ove,r pantin,g and straining with tremendous effort to keep himself aloft. He could feel the foreign arcane energy shooting through his body, clashing against his own in a battle that threatened to rip him apart from within. Ignoring the pain, Menzai closed his eyes and took a slow, long, deep breath, drawing deeper into himself as he did so until he felt his inner core, the sporadic energy crackling wildly with a lightning snapping of pain each time a stray shock struck it. His mind thought back to the bomb and thought to try something similar as he cleared his thoughts to focus solely on channeling his magic to the center of his chest, just above the stomach. Bit by bit, he reached the stray energies, ignoring the foreign bolts until he gathered a golfball-sized orb felt just beneath his chest, then began compressing and condensing it, letting it build and build until… [center]-Burst-[/center] A small cleansing pulse rushed through his body from within, expelling most of the excess invading energy, though some residue remained.*[b][color=ee82ed] Tch..needed to build up a little more, but couldn’t say how much more the body could take. It will have to do.[/color][/b]* A growl of irritation rumbled from the wolf as he forced himself to stand up despite the torturous spasms still afflicting his body. Taking a moment to grasp for air, then gave a concentrated huff through his nose, clearing the freshly clotted blood from his plugged nose, then lifted his left sleeved-arm to his nose, wiping the semi-heavy stream of blood that had poured out from the forced tenuous attempt to break free of the paralysis. Gingerly turning on shaky feet, ignoring the blazing hot pain searing his eyes, each blink gradually bringing his blurry vision back into focused contrast, where he took in Bastion holding one of the assailants with an ensnared chain, the metallic creaking hiss from the rattling chain as it retracted pulling its captured prey towards the towering robotic behemoth and..a blade of pure ice, cold steam frosting unmelting with a icy biting sharpness arming to swing down in a mighty downward arc with thunderous power sure to cleave the hooded figure in twain. Ringing ears caught the faint twinge of a quiver string retracting,, then a -whoosh- release of arrows flying with quick and skilled aim fired into the dragged shadow, giving support even as fear seemed to hold her still. Unharmed to his relief as he thought to seek out the bathroom where Phia last disappeared, a sense of ill foreboding spurred him to stay standing. Stella’s warning cry helped stir the dazed wolf’s addled mind, and with it came the most unpleasant, nauseating stench of death and decay that left Menzai feeling physically and emotionally sick to his stomach as the source horridly drew towards the bar. [color=thistle]"How dare they," [/color]he said softly to Wendel, Arya, Menzai, and Gears…his voice laced with satisfaction. [color=thistle]"To interrupt one’s vacation is a crime fit for a brutal death."[/color] An unsettling urge to snarl out in revulsion with a covering his mouth forced to bite back the overwhelming bile the man’s putrid mouth elicited, each word flowing like thickly rancid tar, every inch of the distinguishedly dressed old gentleman reeked of wicked black magic as he could almost hear the shrieking howls of souls swirling like unseen wailing wraiths. “ [color=ee82ed]Speak in my presence again, Corpse puppeteer, and that tongue shall be removed before you can utter so much as a syllable.[/color]” The wolf spat vehemently with a fierce stare of disgusted disdain at the necromancer’s casual demeanor while the results of his slain target riddled with bones told enough of the vile male’s capability.” [color=ee82ed]Keep your aim on the assailants and know if you desecrate any further bodies aboard this vessel…[/color]” A flashing warning of fangs and a snarling crimson glinting snarl.” [color=ee82ed]Then I’ll have your head removed to join your sickening playthings.[/color]” The wolf whispered the last part solely for his ears, then stalked away, eager to leave the wicked darkmage behind, their current assistance the only thing holding his fangs. As he went, his steps were shaky initially,, but by the third step had gotten back to his rhythm, moving nearly a whisper as he went, until, without warning, he would appear at Arya’s side when she was arming another arrow. A quiet ghost tenderly resting a hand on her shoulder.”[color=ee82ed] Do not be alarmed, Lady Arya.[/color]” His soft words, gentle and comforting, hissed with a slight chilly tickle, said to assure the tensing tiefling from the abrupt touch.”[color=ee82ed] Apologies for the sudden haste, you’re doing well, despite the fear. Though I am amiss to suggest this, time is short, but a bird's eye scan may serve to glean much of the ship’s state.[/color]” His eyebrows furrowed, knowing what he was asking, and he gave her shoulder a firmer touch.” [color=ee82ed]Need only be a minute, do not worry, for Sir Bastion shall stand stout while I and Wendel deal with the stragglers, continue offering cover to the civilians, and guide the warforg-[/color]” Ears flicked the sound of a scuffle, drawing his gaze to see the dwarf, Wendel, attempt to charge and attack two of them with a shortsword, but fumbled the spin, his age and rusty body seemingly playing a part in it. His eyes winced at the way one of them had the gall to send him sprawling with a high kick as if to further humiliate the burly man. The disgraceful sight left a wolf mark on the two hooded assassins, his targets, decided. As his gaze zeroed in on them, he started pooling lavender pink into his eyes, preparing to attempt an arcane scan, and with an eye marking- [color=ee82ed][center]-Eye of A-[/center][/color] A pained crackle of feedback shocked him with a teeth-gritting wince, the countless storming steps and screaming panics of fleeing folks, and slight disoriented made gathering the required concentration nigh too difficult in his current state. * [b][color=ee82ed]Hrn..hmph. Guess the old-fashioned way shall have to do.[/color][/b]* Menzai scoffed in mental annoyance as he turned his attention back to Wendel, where he took notice of the shortsword and with it came a string of a plan, one that would allow him to compensate for his unstable state and amend their minor tiff with dignity restored. With this in mind, Menzai changed his focus towards channeling thin layers of lavender energy over his clawed fingers and toes.” [color=ee82ed]Excuse me, Lady Arya. I leave Madam, gears, and civilians in your care.[/color]” His word spoke, motivating conviction then like a brushing breeze had slipped away. Silent, the wolf stalked; predatorial eyes gleaming twin hooded figures.*[b] [color=ee82ed]Prey locked on.[/color][/b]* Each step towards them had his posture bending forward, lowering like a wolf preparing to pounce, ankles charging with tension while arcane energy hummed along his hidden claws as he peered between the two, then to the dwarf, finalizing the plans. Then, without warning. “[color=ee82ed]Wendel! Throw your sword between the two assassins![/color]” Menzai had called out with a howling bark that broke through the raucous sounds, purposefully done to draw his target's attention onto him. Wendel faced him, initially reluctant to just toss his sword, but recognized the look of someone who had something fierce brewing in their head. Not wasting another moment, he threw the sword with a low grunt to where the shifter desired it to be. *[b][color=ee82ed] Hunt commences![/color][/b]*The words snarled with laser focus, senses pressed into hyper alert as he readied with body taut like a spring in continuing to squeeze, waiting to spring free. Waiting a short delay after the weapon was tossed, needing to get the timing right as his eyes followed the tossed shortsword and with a boosting burst from his left toes and releasing of tension propelled himself like a flying blur of billowing white that quickly drew upon the two assassins turning with their swords swinging from their perspective sides aimed to slash at his midsections. Then suddenly he was upon them; left hand long since extended with a narrowly timed grab of the shortsword’s hilt, where a humming pulse from sending the left fingers built up energy into its blade as he used the continued momentum to swing his arms out in a crossed manner, left hand gripping the sword blade downward clashed the sword to his right while the left assalaint’s blade deflefcted off his empowered claws, the angle slightly off causing the sharp edge to scrap along the knuckles, its path only altered and still gliding towards him, but through quick thinking, a gagging spit fired at the hooded shadowy face. An act not to blind with doubt they had eyes in the normal sense, but to disrupt and halt the attack long enough for him to let his right toe land and gave a twisting push of his heel aided with the right toe’s arcane release having his body spin counterclockwise between the two with boosted speed causing them get staggered back, knocked off balance. As his body spun, building up momentum, Menzai would then turn his heels and kick with the right to propel himself towards the one to his left, the hilt tightly gripped in the left hand thrusted into its chest with a humming pink pulse of the blade slamming in with a aided shove of the right palm against the hilt’s butt. A whinging clang of armored footfall to his right, the remaining assassin regaining his balance had twisted and gave a strong thrust aimed for the half-way turned wolf who with a twisting tug of the shortsword ripped it free with rushed raising, the thick armor made his pull a tad two slow as a metallic screeching and blood splattered with sheer pain of sharp metal tearing into his left shoulder, narrowly deflecting its path from his heart with the near scraping block. Vicious muffled snarling huffed from his nostrils; adrenaline and a swelling bloodlust dulled the pain. A fierce look of determination on his growling, sweat-slaked face, unbothered and unperturbed by the injuries, after shaking off the brief shock, Menzai, through stubborn perseverance, tensed up his shoulder to briefly lock the blade in place. A bracing slam of his right foot pushing hmself forward, ignoring the sword sinking in another few inches and in one quick flowing motion, flipped the upside down shortsword upright and gave a tossing pass to his nearby right hand snatching it in a raising leftward diagonal routee and gave a precise flick of the middle finger having the sword elegantly spin with a dancing natural leveling stop of the blade pointing towards the assailant’s open face and with a heaving thrust rammed the blade straight into its inky black felt with a pulsing burst of lavender sparks of the right claws shot in its wake. A crackling, windy rush that settled as the two came to a stop; the two stood paused like statues, behind the sound of slumping of the other slumping onto the ground, a crumpling heap. On the surface, he appeared as if simply trying to catch his breath, when beneath, he was waiting to receive the arcane scan to flow back to him. wanting to get a read on what these shadow wraiths were about. A faint hum soon flowed back through the blade and into his hand, sparks of info filling his mind, but the stinging pain of the blade and rumbling panic of the civilians took priority, having him set it aside for now as he gave a twisting, sharp ripping tug of shadowy, misty spray from the hood allowing the assailant to collapse at his feet, body slightly bent forward wheeling in pain, yet afforded no sound to let slip. Using the adrenaline to numb the pain, Menzai lifted the right hand, still clutching the shortsword, and gingerly wrapped his fingers along the sword stuck in his shoulder’s side, then he reeled back with an open mouth, deep inhal,e and tightening of the sword gave a bandage ripping pull and used the ensuing burning sensation as fuel to aid in releasing a mighty strained- [center]-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWL-[/center] The snarling rasp raked through the storming deck with a terrifying cry of victorious warning, done to get the scared crowd’s attention, the panting wolf then sharply pointed towards Bastion and Arya’s direction.” [color=ee82ed]E-Everyone! Those of you incapable of fighting make your way behind the armored warforged and star-speckled tiefling; they will guard you![/color]” Menzai shouted out through strained teeth, hoping his warning reached as many as possible. The warning given, Menzai felt his body sag a bit, blood spilled from his soaked left shoulder and trickled from his scraped right hand, the hilt digging into his palm pulled his attention to the shortsword that had aided him immensely, and he took a moment to admire its weight and heft before turning his attention to the dwarf.” [color=ee82ed]A wondrously fine weapon, though a tad overweighted near the center.[/color]” Said as an observatory critique, then gave a casual returning pass.” [color=ee82ed]Hold steady, Sir Wendel, the battle is yet won.[/color]” [Color=silver]“Not my sword.”[/color] Wendel replied as he grabbed Malik’s weapon. [Color=silver]“It’ll do for now. This is the kind of situation it was forged for, after all.”[/color] His words came through pained pants, the throbbing ache in his shoulder and dizzying fuzziness creeping into his vision prompted him to bend down, where a long ripping of fabric could be heard as Menzai shamelessly ripped off a long strip of the nearby assassins’ red hood, where he then licked his index finger and dipped it into one of the pouches nestled at his waist filled with small healing plants and herbs, scraping up a small dab of the salve, coating the clawed finger and slipped it beneath the hoari; a wincing faint wheeze when touching the freshly made gash, the highly durably haori fabric thankfully prevented it from digging all the way through. A careful, tender applying finished, slipped free of the haori, the ripped cloth was then wrapped under the shoulder, a bite of a tied end followed with a tigthening tug of his teeth staunching the bleeding with the makeshift bandaging and gave a testing roll only to wince from a fresh jolting wave of pain.*[b][color=ee82ed]Hngh..stiff..hurts to move, but will have to do for now…[/color][/b]* A wincing touch of the shoulder, taking this chance to collect his breath and take an observing read of the surroundings. *[b][color=ee82ed] Hunt successfully executed.[/color][/b]* Menzai panted, seeking his next target, anxious to finish this before any more unnecessary lives were lost…and so that he might sooner get to Phia’s side. [/color]