ciderNot at all. Guns are plenty abound in America after all. Johan actually carry a snubnose revolver.
Hellis Member
Cᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟɪsᴛɪᴄ Yᴇᴛ Cʟᴀssʏ
STATUS: Hey y'all. I am about to start working on a webcomic and try to draw for a living now. 7 yrs ago
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7 yrs ago
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Hey y'all. I am about to start working on a webcomic and try to draw for a living now.
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9 yrs ago
Oh no. The World Ending library has started to smell of lemon again. Nobody likes dying to the smell of citrus
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Bio
"Always tenderize the meat first."
Most Recent Posts
New Orleans, 21:00, Friday Night.
The city of New Orleans was rarely dormant. Even as winds and waves and natures wrath had torn trough it, the city would eventually rise. Its inhabitants were hardy folk, festive folk and the kind of people who would put their roots down and not let any hurricane tear them from where they made their home. But this night, something was different. The City seemed almost oppressive in its nightlife. It was as if a unconscious beat had gone and rattled the populace. There was a urgency in the club goers movements and the pedestrian pulled their purses and valuables a bit closer to the body then usual.
But most noticeably was the homeless. More of them braved the light where they risked police and less kind souls. The darkness of their alleys seemed more predatory, more vile then usual. Some of them were acutely aware something was terribly wrong. Old souls who had lived on the street all their lives. Others, people who were unaccustomed to the harsh reality they found themselves in were reacting almost on instinct as their skin prickled. And as night fall, this feeling began to creep upon the soul of six magicians. Six practitioners of the arcane arts who could feel the beat not like some primordial instinct buried in the human brain. But who felt is like doctor putting stethoscope to his patients chest and hearing dying heartbeat.
The nigh was sickly and the darkness held horrors untold.
New Orleans; The Nespado Hotel, 21:45, Friday Night.
The Nespado was the only places magicians considered truly neutral ground in New Orleans. With a city so saturated in different magic practices and many ”too big for their hoods” personalities, the Nespado stood as a place where nobody dared levy a spell or a curse. Thus, it was here Johan always made his first stop. Right now he was laying on his back as the humid air drifted in from the sea nnd the swamp, making the heat even more unbearable for the northerner. He clutched his phone to his ear like it was a lifeline.
”Pick up the phone...” Johan mumbled as got up from the bed and approached the minibar. He took a small bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass. ”C'mon doll..” He muttered under his breath as he took a swig of the alcohol. This was bad. Remi had been like anchor for them both. And he knew Varvera would take her death or disappearance a lot harder then he did. And he was wreck about it.
He sat trying to call her for a good hour and a half before he fell back into the bed. Eyes drifting close as exhaustion, both mental and physical, caught up with him. The phone slipped out of his hand as he fell into slumber. But his dreams were dark and foreboding, and his slept a shallow, panicked sleep.
New Orleans; Remis Study 22:20, Saturday Night.
Remis study was cluttered beyond compare. Only Remi knew how to navigate the piles of books, items and strange objects that lay strewn about in a organized chaos sort of way. Pile upon pile of books lined the walls next to bookshelfs that were cluttered with artifacts big and small. A single skylight window would shine light directly onto her workbench during the day.
Johan ran a hand trough his hair. Around him, the air was still. There was no spark of magic. None of the tomes infront of him had even the barest hint of latent arcane. He felt like he would be sick. Ever since he had arrived to the city, he had felt out of sorts. And now he stood on the oaken floor of Remis Study and reality was many times scarier then he had been able to imagine. He turned papers over, looking at notes, lifting artifacts carelessly out of their boxes. For if they had been dangerous before, they were now all but dead and inert. Another testament to how fucked things were. He had heard nothing of any being that could just erase any trace of magic on such a scale before.
”Fucking...” He lifted up a pair of rune inscribed armlets he had made for Remi himself. ”That's fucked” He mumbled softly as he put them down again. He leaned foward, resting his hands on the wooden surface of remis desk. ”Where the hell are you Remi” He sat down in one of the chairs as his mind raced. Every ward he had checked had been dead. Yet there was no indicator of a outer forces. Nothing added up. Magic was so varied it could be any number of things. But even so, this was just incredibly illogical even for magic. This went against everything he knew. Power could not undo power without a trace. Everything left residue. And that's when i struck him. There was no remnants, no echos magic. But also, there was no latent energy, no ghostly whispers of memories ingrained in the walls.
A sudden cold gripped him then. What had he just stumbled upon. He tugged his coat around himself without thinking. Waiting for the others to arrive. People he never met before, but others who owed Remi. People who did magic. He hoped one of them had any idea what was going on.
That is the best damp thing
Tonka was surely a kindergarten teacher in his previous life.
I think I balanced him being a parelell story up until now.
TL:DR
He killed a guard in a brawl. Then killed three more in "Self defence"
He then stalked our motley crew in hope of employment. As only a crazy circus as you guys could possibly make him look less obvius.
TL:DR
He killed a guard in a brawl. Then killed three more in "Self defence"
He then stalked our motley crew in hope of employment. As only a crazy circus as you guys could possibly make him look less obvius.
Non's Nook, a road in on the road to Kings Guard, just a few days before .
He sat at a small table to himself. The mug of ale in his hand was the sixth he had drank in the last half and hour. ”Pisswater.” he mumbled. ”It is all fucking pisswater in this backwater shitstain of a tavern.” He mumbled underneath his breath as he took a swig of the lukewarm ale. His eyes roamed the room, looking for shiny cityguardsmen. He was itching for a fight. and The way petty militia men always acted he knew he would get one. So far, no such thing had happened.
It was then he spotted a couple of the shiny bastards, throwing their weight around and making a ruckus. One of them smacked the ass of a young raven haired barmaid as she passed their table. She yelped and almost dropped her tray but the Dunmer shot his hand out to steady her His other steadied the tray without thinking or looking her way.
”Who are those people.” He asked conversely.
”W-what? Oh, those assholes. That is Dayle and his two goons. They work the gate mostly. Word is that he is squeezing people from coin on the side. Nasty bunch. Don't get involved sir..” But her last words was lost on the Dunmer for he had already risen to his feet. He strolled on over. The three garrison guards looked up in confusion.
”Can I help you, duskfucker” Dayle, who was by far the larger of the lot, spoke.
”Duskfucker. That was a new one” The dunmer admitted as he looked down disapprovingly at them. They thought he was playing the fool to make a ass out of them. In fact he was looking over their weapons. One of them had rested his pike on the pillar just behind him. It would have to do. He had proffered the thick but short heft of a short spear. But he could do this with a pike.
”I would suggest you lot leave the establishment.” He said as he took a chair and sat down.
”Or you do what you piece of shit sa-” He got half way trough the word sand when he saw the Dunmer yawn. ”Boring you am I?” The man rose. Angrier at being ignored then being asked to leave by some random nobody. The Dunmer looked up at him trough one lazily open eye.
”Are you leaving, Or did you remember that your mother is home alone.”
”You.. What!?” The man grew red in the face as he stood up to stare down at the seated dunmer.
”You know. Alone, without a man. I bet her legs spread like the arms of the Divine Seven at mass.” Valen said as he got up, stepping to the right, just within reach of the pike. The men were eyeing one another as the leader, dayle reeled back his hand in a punch.
”You..:” Dayle began to spit as he just barely kept himself from taking the last step and escelate things further “You son of a-.“
”Aye. I mean. I may prefer the company of men, but I bet even I be welcome. Maybe I should help the poor dear out.” Valen said with a grin.
The guard roared and punched. The blow was sloppy and slow, more of a drunken haymaker then anything resembling a trained fighters punch. Valen dodged it with ease, ducking righ as it missed it's mark entirely. As The Dunmerstepped aside to the man’s right he swept the pike from the pillar. He whirled it over his head as he tested its balance and weight on instinct.
With a grunt he swung it in a wide arch adn smashed the elbow of one Dayle with the shaft of it. The guard yelped as he dropped the blade he was drawing from a sheethe at his waist. From there, it was a blur. Other had begun fighting around, a bar brawl was apparently underway independent of the four men. At one point, he lost his spear and proceeded to bludgeon Dayle to death with his own helmet.
By the time the guards arrived to aid there beset breathren and break up the fight, Valen was long gone, and so was several bottles of the establishments finest wine.
---------------------------------------------------
A few days later; On the eve of the centaur attack. Kings Guard
He had run out of wine. And so he had quested for more in places he should not traverse. Places where guards still knew his face. And now he was about to pay for it.
”Judgement day asshole. We've been looking for the fockin' asshole who took down Doyle. You are either coming with us to hang, or you are dying right here, stuck like a pig.” A rather large man with a heavy pike in his hand spat out. His face belied the fear of a man faced with what was a trained and apt killer. Valen stood lazily, his spear aimed at one of the guards, a shield in his other hand. Counter to him, Three men stood in a half circle, spears pointed at the man who looked like Dunmer had just woken cold turkey from a eleven day bender. Which, coincidentally, he had. '
Valen was once a proud and noble Dunmer. Stronger, faster, better then any imperial in every way of the word. At least, that is what he had been told. Yet here he stood, head throbbing like the Deadras had gone five round of 'kick the mortal' with it. And three guards all ready to skiver him should he try any funny business.
”Your form is sloppy” He said to nobody in particular. ”With a slouching posture like that, I could sweep your legs, take your spear and run your comrade to the left through with my own. The last doltsmight kill me but you would still be two men down by the end of it. Whom of you wish to die first.”
”There is three of us. And you are cornered.” A young man wearing a ill fitting piece of armor spoke.
”Aye? I am. Thank you for letting me know, imperial. How old are you.” Belen answered as he took a battle stance. Shield raised and his spear in a overhand, throwing kind of grip.
”....Twenty two.” The guard, who was the youngest of them by a long shot, answered. The Dunmer barked out a laugh that was as humorless and dry as his throat felt.
”Twenty bloody two? I spent half that killing Argonians twice your size as they tried to raid. I Pissed stronger things then you is likely allowed to drink boy.” The Dunmer scoffed. Just then, there was screaming. Something about centaurs. The men looked wildly about and Valen chose that moment to strike.
He moved like a viper, his shield blocking the big mans spear that was thrust at him from the right as he used the alleyways left wall to keep from being flanked. He stabbed the young guard in the foot as he slunk to his left, putting the now crippled young man between himself and the other guards. The poor man went down clutching his now defunct foot as the other guards tried to scramble and attack. The alley was to tight for them to spin arond with their pikes. His spear however, was much much shorter and made for getting in close. He tackled one and slashed spear in upwards stroke over the others face. The unfortunate soul went down blind and screaming. The weight of the third mans pike hit his shoulder with a grunt. It was to long to smash with anything pointy but the shaft was plenty heavy and unpleasant and Valen was lucky it didn't breaks his collar bone. With a grunt he grabbed and pulled it down to his right as he smashed the edge of his shield right at the mans unprotected teeth. The guard crumbled, clutching his face.
Looking around, Valen noticed he had taken all three. All in all it was over in the matter of a minute. The distraction having likely saved Valens life. He stepped over to the young man still clutching his foot. The man looked up in terror but Valen simply reached down and took the boys coinpurse. ”Thanks.” He said as he ran out of the alley.
He was met by chaos in every direction. The Dunmers red eyed looked about himself as he heard hooves and screams and crying. He payed it no heed. He had been witness to far worse. He strode trough the streets with a purpose. That purpose was to find someone to take him with them out of there. He spotted a group of ragtag misfits. Among them a truly gigantic orc and a Altmer. He would not look out of place alongside them and they were heading out which meant that they were his best chance.
The guards would be busy for a while with the centaurs so he decided to liberate a horse from the garrison stable. It was a easy enough task, men where dying left and right and one horse thief was no big deal.
He made sure the party had moved on a bit before he set off after them. He didn't wish to startle them and give away the fact that he all but stalked them out. He rode silently the road they had taken out of town, and kept himself well out of sight. When they stopped at a farmstead he set camp quite a distance away. But never so that he would not note their departure.
----
Camlorn
Like this, he had followed them without being seen. He had soon realized where they were headed, and after that he could go at his own pace. By the time they had arrived to Camlorn, he was only an hour behind. Asking around it was easy to find what Inn they stayed at. Such a strange group was hardly difficult to remember.
As he entered the Inn, his eyes scanned for anyone of the strange party. The Dunmers Spear was resting on his back, his shield over it. His bow hung at his side as well and as he took a seat not to far from his potential new travelling companions, he raised his had to catch innkeepers attention. ”Ale.” He said as he fish out the coin purse he had stolen of the guard a day prior.
He sat at a small table to himself. The mug of ale in his hand was the sixth he had drank in the last half and hour. ”Pisswater.” he mumbled. ”It is all fucking pisswater in this backwater shitstain of a tavern.” He mumbled underneath his breath as he took a swig of the lukewarm ale. His eyes roamed the room, looking for shiny cityguardsmen. He was itching for a fight. and The way petty militia men always acted he knew he would get one. So far, no such thing had happened.
It was then he spotted a couple of the shiny bastards, throwing their weight around and making a ruckus. One of them smacked the ass of a young raven haired barmaid as she passed their table. She yelped and almost dropped her tray but the Dunmer shot his hand out to steady her His other steadied the tray without thinking or looking her way.
”Who are those people.” He asked conversely.
”W-what? Oh, those assholes. That is Dayle and his two goons. They work the gate mostly. Word is that he is squeezing people from coin on the side. Nasty bunch. Don't get involved sir..” But her last words was lost on the Dunmer for he had already risen to his feet. He strolled on over. The three garrison guards looked up in confusion.
”Can I help you, duskfucker” Dayle, who was by far the larger of the lot, spoke.
”Duskfucker. That was a new one” The dunmer admitted as he looked down disapprovingly at them. They thought he was playing the fool to make a ass out of them. In fact he was looking over their weapons. One of them had rested his pike on the pillar just behind him. It would have to do. He had proffered the thick but short heft of a short spear. But he could do this with a pike.
”I would suggest you lot leave the establishment.” He said as he took a chair and sat down.
”Or you do what you piece of shit sa-” He got half way trough the word sand when he saw the Dunmer yawn. ”Boring you am I?” The man rose. Angrier at being ignored then being asked to leave by some random nobody. The Dunmer looked up at him trough one lazily open eye.
”Are you leaving, Or did you remember that your mother is home alone.”
”You.. What!?” The man grew red in the face as he stood up to stare down at the seated dunmer.
”You know. Alone, without a man. I bet her legs spread like the arms of the Divine Seven at mass.” Valen said as he got up, stepping to the right, just within reach of the pike. The men were eyeing one another as the leader, dayle reeled back his hand in a punch.
”You..:” Dayle began to spit as he just barely kept himself from taking the last step and escelate things further “You son of a-.“
”Aye. I mean. I may prefer the company of men, but I bet even I be welcome. Maybe I should help the poor dear out.” Valen said with a grin.
The guard roared and punched. The blow was sloppy and slow, more of a drunken haymaker then anything resembling a trained fighters punch. Valen dodged it with ease, ducking righ as it missed it's mark entirely. As The Dunmerstepped aside to the man’s right he swept the pike from the pillar. He whirled it over his head as he tested its balance and weight on instinct.
With a grunt he swung it in a wide arch adn smashed the elbow of one Dayle with the shaft of it. The guard yelped as he dropped the blade he was drawing from a sheethe at his waist. From there, it was a blur. Other had begun fighting around, a bar brawl was apparently underway independent of the four men. At one point, he lost his spear and proceeded to bludgeon Dayle to death with his own helmet.
By the time the guards arrived to aid there beset breathren and break up the fight, Valen was long gone, and so was several bottles of the establishments finest wine.
---------------------------------------------------
A few days later; On the eve of the centaur attack. Kings Guard
He had run out of wine. And so he had quested for more in places he should not traverse. Places where guards still knew his face. And now he was about to pay for it.
”Judgement day asshole. We've been looking for the fockin' asshole who took down Doyle. You are either coming with us to hang, or you are dying right here, stuck like a pig.” A rather large man with a heavy pike in his hand spat out. His face belied the fear of a man faced with what was a trained and apt killer. Valen stood lazily, his spear aimed at one of the guards, a shield in his other hand. Counter to him, Three men stood in a half circle, spears pointed at the man who looked like Dunmer had just woken cold turkey from a eleven day bender. Which, coincidentally, he had. '
Valen was once a proud and noble Dunmer. Stronger, faster, better then any imperial in every way of the word. At least, that is what he had been told. Yet here he stood, head throbbing like the Deadras had gone five round of 'kick the mortal' with it. And three guards all ready to skiver him should he try any funny business.
”Your form is sloppy” He said to nobody in particular. ”With a slouching posture like that, I could sweep your legs, take your spear and run your comrade to the left through with my own. The last doltsmight kill me but you would still be two men down by the end of it. Whom of you wish to die first.”
”There is three of us. And you are cornered.” A young man wearing a ill fitting piece of armor spoke.
”Aye? I am. Thank you for letting me know, imperial. How old are you.” Belen answered as he took a battle stance. Shield raised and his spear in a overhand, throwing kind of grip.
”....Twenty two.” The guard, who was the youngest of them by a long shot, answered. The Dunmer barked out a laugh that was as humorless and dry as his throat felt.
”Twenty bloody two? I spent half that killing Argonians twice your size as they tried to raid. I Pissed stronger things then you is likely allowed to drink boy.” The Dunmer scoffed. Just then, there was screaming. Something about centaurs. The men looked wildly about and Valen chose that moment to strike.
He moved like a viper, his shield blocking the big mans spear that was thrust at him from the right as he used the alleyways left wall to keep from being flanked. He stabbed the young guard in the foot as he slunk to his left, putting the now crippled young man between himself and the other guards. The poor man went down clutching his now defunct foot as the other guards tried to scramble and attack. The alley was to tight for them to spin arond with their pikes. His spear however, was much much shorter and made for getting in close. He tackled one and slashed spear in upwards stroke over the others face. The unfortunate soul went down blind and screaming. The weight of the third mans pike hit his shoulder with a grunt. It was to long to smash with anything pointy but the shaft was plenty heavy and unpleasant and Valen was lucky it didn't breaks his collar bone. With a grunt he grabbed and pulled it down to his right as he smashed the edge of his shield right at the mans unprotected teeth. The guard crumbled, clutching his face.
Looking around, Valen noticed he had taken all three. All in all it was over in the matter of a minute. The distraction having likely saved Valens life. He stepped over to the young man still clutching his foot. The man looked up in terror but Valen simply reached down and took the boys coinpurse. ”Thanks.” He said as he ran out of the alley.
He was met by chaos in every direction. The Dunmers red eyed looked about himself as he heard hooves and screams and crying. He payed it no heed. He had been witness to far worse. He strode trough the streets with a purpose. That purpose was to find someone to take him with them out of there. He spotted a group of ragtag misfits. Among them a truly gigantic orc and a Altmer. He would not look out of place alongside them and they were heading out which meant that they were his best chance.
The guards would be busy for a while with the centaurs so he decided to liberate a horse from the garrison stable. It was a easy enough task, men where dying left and right and one horse thief was no big deal.
He made sure the party had moved on a bit before he set off after them. He didn't wish to startle them and give away the fact that he all but stalked them out. He rode silently the road they had taken out of town, and kept himself well out of sight. When they stopped at a farmstead he set camp quite a distance away. But never so that he would not note their departure.
----
Camlorn
Like this, he had followed them without being seen. He had soon realized where they were headed, and after that he could go at his own pace. By the time they had arrived to Camlorn, he was only an hour behind. Asking around it was easy to find what Inn they stayed at. Such a strange group was hardly difficult to remember.
As he entered the Inn, his eyes scanned for anyone of the strange party. The Dunmers Spear was resting on his back, his shield over it. His bow hung at his side as well and as he took a seat not to far from his potential new travelling companions, he raised his had to catch innkeepers attention. ”Ale.” He said as he fish out the coin purse he had stolen of the guard a day prior.
Exellent!
Actually. I think that while talking to @DearTricksterI kinda solved my charachters motivation problem.
He still commited the crime, but he was never caught. So he needs to leave psot haste, and the party with their gold would "Have to do". xD
@Leidenschaft @Dervish Does that work for you two?
He still commited the crime, but he was never caught. So he needs to leave psot haste, and the party with their gold would "Have to do". xD
@Leidenschaft @Dervish Does that work for you two?
I am also dormant untill season 2. Parasite will be a menace and Broker have big things planned...
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