ONL

Friend or Foe?

The darkness was an ever-lasting reminder of the power of Lord Octa ever since his iron reign began in these lands. A darkness that enveloped everything it touched, save from the just as shining beacons of hope that the Light gave. Tonight however, the Darkness was welcomed for the elf sprinting full speed thought the snowy night, for his people were gifted with night-sight. Gifted, or cursed, depending on how you looked at it.

Thaliar stopped. A sound, not far down the white path, echoed through the night. It was the sound of horses, and a carriage rolling away. There was no time to lose, and so he kept on running. And just as he got out of the temporary darkness, he saw the carriage and horses galloping away from him, and to his very luck, their target. The goal of the mission was being dragged away by one last guard into the woods. A smirk formed on the elf's lips, just before he vanished into the shadows again.

"You think the woods will help you? We'll see about that."

Dodging underneath low branches, jumping over stumps and rocks at speed, Thaliar found himself a short distance in front of the guard. The guard was still holding the female prisoner at the mercy of his blade. The whole reason they had agreed to take on the mission. In an instant, Thaliar let the magic within him flow freely through his arms, pulsating green flames from his finger tips as he made his presence known to the guard and the woman. One could even swear that the figure, arguably appearing like a ghost or the Undergods themselves in that dark night, laughing.

"Enough with this little game of Chase, guard of Lord Octa. Let her go, and I shall let you go back to your family, more or less unharmed."

Friend or Foe?

"...Amateurs. So quick to jump into the frey of mortal combat..."

A voice, barely audible to the figures deeply involved in melee and the shrinking silluhette of the horse, carriage and prisoners, blew lightly across the winter breeze just like the snow. From behind another tree, like Kan Ironhead before him, another figure appeared from out of the shadows. But with the lack of light, one might falsely mistake the figure for shadows themselves. A dark cape flutting behind him and masking his face, he raised one arm towards one guard attacking Kan.

"...when their lives will end so soon."

Green. That was the first colour to appear from the figure's hand, a light that shun straight at the guard armed with a heavy club. One might question what they really saw that snowy night, but some might claim that the guard's eyes glowed in a same shade of green as the figure's green light, before slumping to the ground with a final breath. Mere humans rarely witnessed such acts, but Thaliar was no mere man. For Thaliar was an elf, one of few in the land of Lord Octa, one with the elven knowledge of magic. A branch of magic dabbling with...well, issues of life and death.

"Kan, keep them occupied! I'm going after the carriage!" Thaliar shouted to his more physical attributed companion, before seemingly vanishing once again into the shadows underneath his cape. But really, all he did was turn and run as fast as he could. Because really, hadn't anyone thought that this exact thing might happen? That the carriage would get away, and they'd need a plan B?

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

It looks like its more of a sausage fest then a taco fest now. :P lol

@Nallore

I'm so happy you said that, or else I would have had to! xD

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

Haakon J. Elvsgaard

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Location:The Prison

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The eeire silence that had soaked the dry walls of the small room had almost grown normal to Haakon as he had been sitting on that chair. The pool of blood on the table, while repulsive, had by now become the least of his concerns, beside the interrogator himself. It was disturbing, all of it, but yet his senses had grown accustommed to it somehow. That's why he didn't really realize what was just about to happen.

Haakon gave a look of brief confusion at his previous captor as he returned to the room, ordering him to get out of the prison and stay within the city, before storming out while slamming several doors after him. So...had he believed what Haakon told him? The grunt of displeasure could really have meant anything from him not getting another victim to beat to death, or that he thought Haakon was spinning nothing but webs of lies. Either way, Haakon slowly comprehended the fact that he was free to go.

Slowly, he got up from the chair he swore he could see the patches of sweat from his back, and walked out of the room he feared would be his coffin. In the distance he heard the sound of beating, pain and, well, more pain. Haakon didn't want to think of who the unfortunate victim was, but he already knew. Now someone else was much more important to him; Josephine.

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Mahendra Huq Zalil

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Location:Shepheard's Hotel -> Egyptian Museum

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"No, that will be all, thank you. Here you are, sir."

Outside of the Shepheard's hotel, along the busy streets of Cairo, a man of foreign apperance payed a server precisely what a simple cup of tea would cost on such a common day. His appearance was foreign, not just for the various Europeans - and Americans - who might happen to pass him, but also to the local population; his skin was browner than most Egyptians, while his attire was that of an European traveller. Yet for his foreign looks, he still felt no more a stranger than he did in other places.

What he did feel, however, was the brief sense of dissappointment that he still was without a line of work. Few people had shown interest in his skills and credentials, but he was determined not to give up. Good actions led to good fates, that was for certain. The cup of tea seemed to boost his spirits as well. And so he picked up the newspaper from the table beside him, opening it with one hand while the other held the warm cup of tea.

A smile formed on the Indian's lips. There, right in the middle of the page, he read what he had needed; a position of work! The local museum was in need of junior archeologists with several years of experience and education. What the job included, that was actually not what concerned Mahendra the most. He knew when to be pickish, and this was not one of those moments; this was, if even just something small, a start. And so, having finished his tea calmly while reading the rest of the paper, the Indian geologist from Bengali wrapped the paper under his arm, put on his hat and began to walk towards the museum. Perhaps this would be a good day?

Hunt for the Wild Dakota (ONL & LovelyAnastasia)

Julian "Jude Shorty" Kirkland

L'arena - Il Mercenario

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Age:

26

Height:

5ft, 7 inches

Weight:

148lbs

Family:

• William Ashton Kirkland - Father; alive
• Jennifer Carla Kirkland - Mother; alive
• Christopher Kirkland - Brother; deceased

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Is this satisfactory for you, dear? @LovelyAnastasia

Sierra Vanguard (Espionage RP)

"With Dear Lady Liberty right in the middle of the storm? You might as well ask Father Christmas for a new train-set, and you know that." George spoke calmly to his fellow gentleman agent, easily driving his car while keeping the conversation going between them. An intersection stood before them, the lights turning yellow and signalling the cars to slow down and stop. George on the other hand had no intention of doing so. "Hold on, Thom, and put down pistol away. We're gaining enough attention as it is."

The Aston Martin weaved its path elegantly between an old Ford Pickup and a Polish truck filled with fridges, vegetables or some other poor man's item, speeding into and through the intersection without as much as a scratch in the paint. Several angry, or just confused drivers, took their oppertunity to honk the hell out of him, but he simply shook his head as the beauty of a dark turned left and kept driving towards the docks. "What happened this time with Lady? She was supposed to go quiet in and out, and now she's in deeper shit than Yemen?"

It was a close call, but as George skid around a garbage truck at the end of a narrow alley, the docks came into view. "There we are. Drevan, what's the situation and adviced line of action?" George was quick to get on the comms now, having had no time to turn them back on after getting blown of the factory window. But before he could get an answer, he heard an unmistakeable from behind. Without waiting, he turned around while sitting in the car, scanning the alley they had just exited. The garbage truck still stood there, and behind it came the sound of incoming police cars.

"This'll buy us some time." George pulled out his pistol and fired two shots behind him. The two bullest buzzed through the air, finding their marks in the garbage truck's wheels and puncturing them. "Scotland Yard will have to find another way around now. The gunfire probably discouraged them too. I didn't like it, but I think it worked. Now, Drevan, Thom, what now?"

🦄 Deeper Than The Sands - Merged With T.S.

Haakon J. Elvsgaard

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Location:The Prison

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A long, muffled sigh of relief escaped Haakon's lips when the lock clicked from the door. Left to himself, Haakon's composure was let down, his mask of confidence and stoic determination gone for a moment. His sure to-be back-breaker had simply up and left him alone in the bloodied room in which he had to intention of staying in much longer. Not that he had a plan of escape, the door was locked and the prison was...well, full of people meant to keep people from leaving. Besides, what good would an attempt do? Innocent people didn't run away.

Unless they were conspired against and feared for their lives. The thought did occur to the journalist...

Not long after, the interogator returned to his previous position, his facial expression just as unreadable as before. For now his attention was at Harry Walsh, not that Haakon was convinced it was better by now. But his composure had returned, leaving Haakon with a confident exterior. Especially with the man's insinuation that the journalistic occupation was merely thieving vigilantism. He wasn't about to let that get to him, even if he felt it as a slap across his face. "He's not a fellow reporter, no. As a matter of fact, from what I understood his previous occupation was with the British Army. And like I said, he was given the key by the woman, so your guess is as good as mine."

Hunt for the Wild Dakota (ONL & LovelyAnastasia)

@LovelyAnastasiaHow do you want to format the Character Sheet? Same as our previous ones?

🧚🏻‍♀️ The Walking Dead - Year 6 Part 1

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Alexander Polawski

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Location: North Of Newnan (Spring & St. Clair)

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If it wasn't the sound of their surprised voices coming from the hatch of the tank, the noticable stop of movement did what Alexander could only thank the powers that might have been; to give him something more important to think about than his own misery. At first he didn't notice the scenery passing slower, even for the Stuart's initial jerk, but when he swore he hadn't seen the ruins of a particularly ugly house move an inch for ten seconds, he felt something was going on.

The question though was whether he was allowed to question what had caused the Kiwi to stop driving. Yes, Lola hadn't given him the figuartive cold scoulding like Thalia, but they were both down there, much more attached to each other than he would ever be. So the threat of dismissal was there, sure enough.

No, he took his chance. With the tank standing still, he climbed up to the hatch and sat down beside it so that he could speak with them. But he made sure not to actually get any visual contact with them, perhaps hoping that he wouldn't be intruding as much. "What's the trouble, Sergeant, if you don't mind me nosing around?"

Old One Rising (A Lovecraftian adventure-horror RP) (Reboot)

@SigurdOur new theme song! This'll be a song we'll never get out of ours minds :D

@RBYDarkUnderstandable, good to know at least. Tell him I hope he's doing well. You too as well.

So guys, what's the plan then? Should I push us forward, or bid our time?