Eklispe — Roleplayer Guild

Yash nodded at the archer's request, he had limited the use of his powers as much as possible for fear of hindering his ally but what with the five bestial risen orcs charging at him more extreme methods would need to be taken. "Very well," Yash said then stabbed his sword into the ground heavily, from the point of contact runes spider webbed across the floor covering the ground within a 5 meter radius around him encompassing the archer as well. Yash nearly gave a sigh of relief as strength flooded through him, the light no doubt wouldn't be enough to entirely banish the magic keeping those orcs alive, but it should significantly weaken them at the least. The orcs were now within moment of attacking. 

Yash gave a feral grin and his eyes glowed with a divine light. Motion slowed for a moment and Yash took his sword from the ground and surveyed the battlefield, truly the odds were against them. "Archer I will ensure no harm comes to you." he said confidently. Then he ducked under the first orc to lunge at him using his shield to launch it behind him. He dealt with the other orcs in a similar fashion simply dodging and redirecting them with his shield. He noted the archer orcs taking aim, no doubt several would be aimed at the archer, but in this state he would be more than fast enough to stop them.

A Warrior's Journey

My swim through the eternal darkness; quickly interrupted, as such things are always doomed to be, by a voice that echos through the depths of the strange ocean. I cry out in response and the voice moves on, advancing further through my dwelling. The voice belongs to the one that is responsible for me, my owner, my creator. 

Speedily the warrior wakes and tosses the bed-trappings from himself, arming himself with the most basic of man-tools required to face the day. Then, with haste, for time was short; the warrior speed to the eating-realm.

Hastily the warrior moves past his younger kin, seeking to shirk the duties of the last; with the ease of practice his hand slips into the home of the tributes offered for breakfast. A swift snatch, and the hand comes back holding a square-container, then he moves on, grabbing a smooth and well carved tree-heart. The tree-heart is filled with bovine-liquid: but not before a waterfall of crisped cookies cascades into the tree-heart. Swift strikes with a curved-eater ensured the food was well soaked before being quickly devoured.

Now both refreshed and strengthen by the morning-feast he fled faster than any living creature could follow to his natural home: the mystical box that through which all things were accomplished T

then his fingers flew across the board of keys: keys to the locks within the heavenly monitor that held on things. "Perfect." the warrior muttered as information flooded across the visual display.

However all too soon: the voice of his ruler called him once more, instructing him to once more head to the foul realm of combat that he must attend. Not too different from his home, this realm was also one of knowledge, but not easily won with simple keys no. This knowledge was held by very different lock-openers.

Relentless battle was needed to win the knowledge from scarred heart-wood and the masters of that realm. Luckily combat was not undertaken alone, for many friend-solders could be found there: easing the ceaseless battle for knowledge

Sadly the most important of battles from whence you were judged by the masters could only be taken in solemn silence, once separated from all comrades. All of this the warrior knew as he was devoured by the yellow beast.

The beast plodded along consuming more and more victims until at last they were freed: at least freed to begin battle. The warrior armed himself with the tools of his trade and boldly stepped forward, prepared to begin a battle that would last until the sun was high in the sky. Knowing that this was the beginning of nearly 180 more days of combat before a meaningful rest could be had.

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