NytefallI guess Metz will probably make a re-appearance in the lobby soon.
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Cheers, glad to know we'll be starting soon, I've had the image of a jaded Vampire P.I pouring whiskey from the flask kept in the top draw of his desk for a while now.
Dunno what's in store for Metz next, should he return to the lobby? For reference sake he used the key to try and further enclose Ghourkas, shutting off his ability to drain Felenr (at least in part)
The spikes hurtled down from the ceiling of the pillar, the grating sound of earth protruding through rock marking the end. Unable to move due to the impaling implements throughout his body, Khazna was forced to await his end as the stalactites plummeted down into his body, piercing through his armour and rupturing his organs. Blood poured beneath his clothes and burst out his mouth, captured within the confines of the mask. He went limp and hung there, caught between the numerous impaling spikes of the pillar, a grisly end.
Metz stood with his pistol raised at the rock for a good time, the obscuring sand whistling around him as he concentrated with everything he had. Blood dripped down his wounded leg and his hand ached from the fracture, but through force of will alone he remained standing. With one final spurt the mana circulating his system broke down, leaving him empty, his knees buckled and he went down. As the sandstorm disappeared the pillar remained, untouched by any within, Metz hand strayed to the belt at his side but he knew it was unlikely to be needed. He had won.
He lay there for a short while, and suddenly felt an energy suffusing him. In his clenched left hand an object made its presence felt, he opened the hand and looked down wearily. There on his dirt smeared palm was an unassuming key, but even without being a mage he could feel the power contained therein. The key held more power than he could fathom, its purpose was so great he felt overawed holding the simple implement in his palm.
“It’s not much, but it might help.” Metz said to himself, clenching his hand over the key again and willing it to bend to his purpose. He had no intention of releasing the nightmare he knew now was responsible for the devastation of his planet, but he could turn the key the other way.
Blasted by sand and buffeted by the wind, Metz struggled towards the great gate before him, leaving his unfortunate foe behind. Each plodding step felt like an eternity, but he refused to imbibe mana for this final act of labour. Finally, he reached the gate and bled before it, twisting the key away from the act of unlocking, his action was to seal tight that which had been allowed to open, that which had allowed Ghourkas to drain his planet. He could not know if he had succeeded, but perhaps he managed to buy his homeland a little more time. With his energy spent he fell to his knees, and disappeared.
Metz stood with his pistol raised at the rock for a good time, the obscuring sand whistling around him as he concentrated with everything he had. Blood dripped down his wounded leg and his hand ached from the fracture, but through force of will alone he remained standing. With one final spurt the mana circulating his system broke down, leaving him empty, his knees buckled and he went down. As the sandstorm disappeared the pillar remained, untouched by any within, Metz hand strayed to the belt at his side but he knew it was unlikely to be needed. He had won.
He lay there for a short while, and suddenly felt an energy suffusing him. In his clenched left hand an object made its presence felt, he opened the hand and looked down wearily. There on his dirt smeared palm was an unassuming key, but even without being a mage he could feel the power contained therein. The key held more power than he could fathom, its purpose was so great he felt overawed holding the simple implement in his palm.
“It’s not much, but it might help.” Metz said to himself, clenching his hand over the key again and willing it to bend to his purpose. He had no intention of releasing the nightmare he knew now was responsible for the devastation of his planet, but he could turn the key the other way.
Blasted by sand and buffeted by the wind, Metz struggled towards the great gate before him, leaving his unfortunate foe behind. Each plodding step felt like an eternity, but he refused to imbibe mana for this final act of labour. Finally, he reached the gate and bled before it, twisting the key away from the act of unlocking, his action was to seal tight that which had been allowed to open, that which had allowed Ghourkas to drain his planet. He could not know if he had succeeded, but perhaps he managed to buy his homeland a little more time. With his energy spent he fell to his knees, and disappeared.
Hmm, guess I win, three cheers for magical circles.
He’s faster now, some form of magic, interesting.
His spell failing Adrian chose not to lunge past the magical sword, instead stepping back on his right foot as his occupied hand dropped to the sword on his left hip, relinquishing the hold on the arrow as it sought a more appropriate weapon. His enemy would learn not to overestimate himself, if he believed he could master the Vampire in close quarters with his bare hands he would be sorely mistaken.
Death Bringer, Adrian’s somewhat melodramatically named Viking shortsword swung from its sheath in a vicious arc that set its path straight at his approaching enemy’s torso. Though he had made the precaution to approach in a low stance, it would ultimately serve him poorly as Adrian’s own weapon was drawn from low at his hip. Slashing through the air at an angle the razor sharp edge would likely pass through the man’s right arm and mid-torso, breaking bone and shearing flesh. If it had been a longer weapon his enemy might have been right to charge him, but the shortsword excelled at that range just beyond that of bare handed and dagger fighting.
His spell failing Adrian chose not to lunge past the magical sword, instead stepping back on his right foot as his occupied hand dropped to the sword on his left hip, relinquishing the hold on the arrow as it sought a more appropriate weapon. His enemy would learn not to overestimate himself, if he believed he could master the Vampire in close quarters with his bare hands he would be sorely mistaken.
Death Bringer, Adrian’s somewhat melodramatically named Viking shortsword swung from its sheath in a vicious arc that set its path straight at his approaching enemy’s torso. Though he had made the precaution to approach in a low stance, it would ultimately serve him poorly as Adrian’s own weapon was drawn from low at his hip. Slashing through the air at an angle the razor sharp edge would likely pass through the man’s right arm and mid-torso, breaking bone and shearing flesh. If it had been a longer weapon his enemy might have been right to charge him, but the shortsword excelled at that range just beyond that of bare handed and dagger fighting.
Yeah pretty much. Though it's an amusing idea abilities which negatively impact an opponent can't be unpredictable or unavoidable. The character might work with some tweaks so his abilities are more like magic projectiles but honestly I doubt anyone would fight a character like that.
Yeah I hope this is still going to start.
We don't have to wait for every Baron to be fully fleshed out to start do we? Surely they won't be that important from the beginning.
I'd hate to rush you, but this is lagging somewhat from the outset and I like the concept.
We don't have to wait for every Baron to be fully fleshed out to start do we? Surely they won't be that important from the beginning.
I'd hate to rush you, but this is lagging somewhat from the outset and I like the concept.
Yeah sure, go ahead.
Anna shrugged backwards and screeched as the parrying dagger slammed into her lower torso, round about where her kidney should have been. Rather than seeing the immediate growing mark of red that should have heralded her near immediate death however, it seemed as if more water simply spouted from the wound. The tendril poised to strike at the captain splashed onto the sand, forgotten as Anna removed the offending object from her body with a cry and launched it into the sand with disdain. She looked away from her torso, hatred in her eyes, as she caught sight of the sprawled captain staring back at her. There was a nasty tear in her dress and water poured from the area like blood, the wound behind the deluge hidden by its ferocity. Then, like someone had turned off the faucet, it petered out, leaving only smooth skin in its place.
“You loathsome man!” Anna screamed at him, picking up where she left off as she thrust out her left hand palm forward, causing a rut in the sand beneath her all the way to her target. In an explosion of sand and liquid she sent a great torrent of water splashing at the pirate, it was not unlike blasting him with a riot hose and the effects would likely be similar.
“You loathsome man!” Anna screamed at him, picking up where she left off as she thrust out her left hand palm forward, causing a rut in the sand beneath her all the way to her target. In an explosion of sand and liquid she sent a great torrent of water splashing at the pirate, it was not unlike blasting him with a riot hose and the effects would likely be similar.
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