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Men vs. Women Race to 1000: Version 2.0

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The World of Telduria [Always open for applications]

😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉

The World of Telduria [Always open for applications]

oh, spicy tension in Kron-Nesis.

The World of Telduria [Always open for applications]

Zakhul and Uriel
Everton

Recoiling in pain Zakhul dropped the bartender and stumbled away. As the man ran out of the building screaming bloody murder Zakhul stretched backward letting his back crack. After that, he slowly bent his neck each way allowing the tension to be released by them.
"W-what do you want... from all this?" Zakhul froze in surprise, he hadn’t sensed the other human in the room. Slowly turning to look at the boy on the other side of the building Zakhul narrowed his eyes. He began walking forward ever so slowly, staying wary of this human. "I-I can't...allow you to go any further." Zakhul tilted his head slightly, studying the human. As he examined the boy he noticed the eyes. In a display of blistering speed, Zakhul nearly seemed to teleport right in front of the human. Staring into the boy’s eyes Zakhul let some illusion magic fade away, causing his eyes to shift to a crimson red. The daemon closely examined the boy’s golden eyes, curiosity overwhelming him. “A God’s child? No…you would have a much stronger presence. An ancestor then. Interesting.”

Looking down Zakhul noticed the dagger being pointed at his midsection. “Oh, are you going to kill me then? Why would you ever want to do that?” A wolfish grin came to the daemon's face and he stepped forward, letting the dagger prick his flesh. “Strike now young one, save the world and become a hero.”

The scholar had been startled by its speed of movement, it was far greater then he could hope to track or predict, serving to hammer home how hopeless he was in this situation. He saw the daemon's true eyes, red as blood, staring back at him. Now, he could hear it speaking clearly as it wasn't at a distance, rather, it was analyzing him. His knife pressed against the elder daemon's skin, as it tried to goad him in to action. Before he made the decision to press the knife further in or not, with their eyes intent on eachothers and the focus Uriel was attempting to call in to action, he ended up inadvertently triggering his ability. Uriel's eyes shined for but a split second, and his hands, taut on his knife, wouldn't stop shaking even as he witnessed the nature of the being in front of him.

"You're no devil at all..." The young man had spoken, a stutter to his voice as he did, the look on his face not one of fear as it had been before, but rather of interest. In that moment, he had found himself staring at the daemon with the same amount of curiosity that it had shown him. "You're lost... like a child." He whispered under his unsteady breath, taking a few steps back from the daemon to get the support of the wall behind him, the adrenaline in his body beginning to pass.

Zakhul scowled at the boy and clenched his fist as the human walked away. “I am no child human. I was alive long before your bloodline even took its first breaths. I have been on this world longer than most nations.” Stopping himself from further ranting Zakhul thought for a second. “So… sight. It has been very long since I met someone so blessed by the gods.”

“I am not lost, just merely in need of directions. I have just woken after a long slumber and it seems to me that the politics of this world has changed.” walking over to the bar Zakhul reached over and grabbed two mugs. Filling them both with mead he brought them over to the boy. Handing one of the drinks to the boy, he took a long drink out of the other one. “Now you are my hostage. No harm will come to you if you comply with my requests. First what is your name, and second where am I?”

Uriel, with the support of the wall behind him, let out a sigh of relief as he heard that he was a hostage. Much to his surprise, he found he wasn't quivering in fear as much after the use of his ability. He sheathed his meek dagger, bringing a hand up to his forehead to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated there, and to pull back the hood of his cloak. He took a couple of long breaths to calm himself down, and took the drink from the daemon's hand, nodding to show that he understood before he had spoken. "A spiritual child, not a physical one." He hastily corrected, more for his sake then the daemon's, before continuing his line of dialogue. "My name is Uriel Aethyn, and you're in Everton, near the border of Estorna. Allow me to get you my map." He spoke as he carefully walked over to a nearby table, painstakingly showing his every move to Zakhul so as to not arouse any sudden action. The scholar placed his mug on the table and angled his body to the side to show his captor what he was doing. He took off his satchel, and placed it next to his cup of mead, opening it and pulling out his map of the southern regions, unfurling it as he did.

With his map in hand, he turned to face Zakhul, holding it out for him to take. Once it was taken out of his hands, he dared to continue talking with him. "We can't stay here in town, the other monster hunter has alerted their best and brightest by now..." He trailed off as he came to the pallid realization that by working with the daemon, the other townspeople may come after him, thinking of him as some form of agent. It left a bitter taste in his mouth as he picked up where he left off in his conversation with Zakhul. "... and so we must keep moving to prevent them from bearing down on you. You could be able to kill them all, but the town would never recover, and the south would be threatened as a result. These hunters, they curb the monster population in the area. If all of them die, then many others unrelated to this incident will die too."

Zakhul looked closely at the map recognizing only a few of the nations on the map. Of course, the Grand Kingdom was still there. Still unsure of where to go Zakhul wasn’t looking for anything in particular on the map. Just trying to get the lay of the land he didn’t bother looking at the smaller city markers because they were of little significance to him. “My name is Zakhul, and you are correct about needing to get moving. I am not sure where to go, so I will let you decide where we will be heading.” Giving the map back to Uriel he walked over to a window and looked out into the town. A large group of monster hunters had formed a semicircle in front of the building waiting for the daemon to attack them. Walking to the back of the building he stopped and listened. Zakhul could hear rushed breaths and the creaking of leather on the other side of the door.

Walking back to Uriel he grabbed his mug and took another drink. “We will have to wait to decide where we are heading until we escape from here. Do as I say and you will live.” Walking over to the wall facing the closest to the edge of the city he pressed a hand to it. After waiting a few seconds he pushed hard until the wood began to creak. Quickly he hit it with immense force causing the wood to splinter outwards. Turning back towards Uriel he gestured towards the hole in the wall and waved his hand. “Quick now!!”

Having taken the map from Zakhul, he folded it and put it back in to his bag, before picking his satchel up and putting it on himself. As the daemon looked out the window, the hostage's own eyes were drawn to the aftermath of his captor's slaughter a couple feet away from him, the blood from its previous attackers beginning to seep in to the wood. Their corpses served as a sharp reminder for him not to forget the situation he had found himself in, regardless of the mercy it had shown him. He had seen in to its nature; yes, he was calmed by his understanding of the elder daemon, yet this doesn't excuse the sin of murder. Uriel was snapped out of his thoughts as Zakhul walked towards him, urging his attention with every step he had taken towards the scholar.

Uriel offered a curt nod in response to Zakhul's demands. He took mental notes of how the daemon was utilizing his strength, stretched his legs as a few agonizing seconds passed, preparing for something of a sprint. He held a breath and as soon as the hole was blown through the wall, rushed through it to the outside world. The tavern was poised near the edge of the town, and the escape that Zakhul had made for them both gave them quick access to the road leading south. A careful glance was given to the route ahead, reminding him that this was the direction he had came from when he had entered Everton.

collab with @Denduris

The World of Telduria [Always open for applications]

@Denduris Yes I do... yes I do :)

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Marcus Aemilius Scaurus

Marcus Aemilius Scaurus

Age: XXIII

Sex: Masculum

Military Rank: Tribunus Laticlavius XIII

Appearance: Marcus is taller than the most of his people allowing him to look down on most he meets. He has broad shoulders formed from years of wearing the heavy armor of the legions. His hair is a bit longer than legion regulation, but not from disregard of policy but merely no time. He has hazel eyes and dark brown hair that is fairly curly.

Personality: Marcus is a tough but fair commander. While he expects his orders to be carried out with the utmost competence, he is understanding when given a valid reason for failure. For those Marcus doesn't care about he sees them as assets and problems rather than full people. This is how Marcus thinks on the battlefield, constantly calculating what certain assets are worth and the price he should pay at the current moment.

Skills: Marcus is a skilled swordsman and brawler due to his size and good instincts. His true skill is his exceptional tactical ability. That is what makes him appear a promising future commander to the senate. He can quickly make decisions that will affect many lives without much hesitation.

Flaws: He has trouble not just going by instinct and plays things by the cuff of his sleeve. Often thinking his first idea will be his best idea he rarely second guesses himself or thinks things over for too long. He also has no interest in politics, which if he dabbled in he might do well due to his family connections. While able to give rousing speeches he is no Caesar with the ability to inspire 2 farmers to fight an entire legion with nothing but manure.

Backstory: A long time ago Marcus’s ancestors were a fairly wealthy line of senators. During Sulla’s reign of terror his family had managed to lar low and not lose their heads. Their fortune turned for the better when they sided with Caesar’s faction in the civil war, and later on aided Octavion in his fight against the murderers. Having chosen the right faction they became one of the most powerful families overnight. The sons of the family became great statesmen and powerful generals, while the daughters spread their influence and gained vast sums of gold.

Now quite a time later their influence has waned. While not weak in any way, ever since the bloodline of Octavian lost the throne they have not held as much sway. Marcus is the promising second son of the head family. His older brother became a senator like his father, and his younger siblings seem to be intent on partying their wealth away. It is Marcus alone who has chosen the path of the sword and shield. Serving for a short time as a sub tribune in the 9th legion he was transferred out after four years.

His father then used his political clout to get the Senate to make him Tribune Laticlavius of the thirteenth legion. It also helped that the Legate of that legion happened to be a “family friend”. Marcus joined the 13th at the beginning of the darian campaign and has learned much from it.

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Marcus Aemilius Scaurus

Marcus Aemilius Scaurus

Age: XXIII

Sex: Masculum

Military Rank: Tribunus Laticlavius XIII

Appearance: Marcus is taller than the most of his people allowing him to look down on most he meets. He has broad shoulders formed from years of wearing the heavy armor of the legions. His hair is a bit longer than legion regulation, but not from disregard of policy but merely no time. He has hazel eyes and dark brown hair that is fairly curly.

Personality: Marcus is a tough but fair commander. While he expects his orders to be carried out with the utmost competence, he is understanding when given a valid reason for failure. For those Marcus doesn't care about he sees them as assets and problems rather than full people. This is how Marcus thinks on the battlefield, constantly calculating what certain assets are worth and the price he should pay at the current moment.

Skills: Marcus is a skilled swordsman and brawler due to his size and good instincts. His true skill is his exceptional tactical ability. That is what makes him appear a promising future commander to the senate. He can quickly make decisions that will affect many lives without much hesitation.

Flaws: He has trouble not just going by instinct and plays things by the cuff of his sleeve. Often thinking his first idea will be his best idea he rarely second guesses himself or thinks things over for too long. He also has no interest in politics, which if he dabbled in he might do well due to his family connections. While able to give rousing speeches he is no Caesar with the ability to inspire 2 farmers to fight an entire legion with nothing but manure.

Backstory: A long time ago Marcus’s ancestors were a fairly wealthy line of senators. During Sulla’s reign of terror his family had managed to lar low and not lose their heads. Their fortune turned for the better when they sided with Caesar’s faction in the civil war, and later on aided Octavion in his fight against the murderers. Having chosen the right faction they became one of the most powerful families overnight. The sons of the family became great statesmen and powerful generals, while the daughters spread their influence and gained vast sums of gold.

Now quite a time later their influence has waned. While not weak in any way, ever since the bloodline of Octavian lost the throne they have not held as much sway. Marcus is the promising second son of the head family. His older brother became a senator like his father, and his younger siblings seem to be intent on partying their wealth away. It is Marcus alone who has chosen the path of the sword and shield. Serving for a short time as a sub tribune in the 9th legion he was transferred out after four years.

His father then used his political clout to get the Senate to make him Tribune Laticlavius of the thirteenth legion. It also helped that the Legate of that legion happened to be a “family friend”. Marcus joined the 13th at the beginning of the darian campaign and has learned much from it.

Best image I can find. Just imagine more purple based colors to represent the Senate and imperial power.

The World of Telduria [Always open for applications]

Zakhul
Everton

Zakhul nodded his head as the human informed him of his location. Everton? Barrows? I have no idea what any of these are. How long have I been asleep? Zakhul scanned behind the bar hoping there was some kind of map within sight. Zakhul kept looking around until the man said “monster hunters.” Snapping back to attention Zakhul quickly worked to hide any of his demonic presence that might have been seeping out. If any of the hunter were to sense what he was it would cause him quite some trouble. Realizing the human in front of him had stopped talking he quickly tried to think of a response.

“Do you happen to have a map with you, for I have been asleep for a very long time and have no idea what you are talking about.” thinking for a second that maybe he shouldn't mention his full situation he brushed the inkling of worry aside and continued on. “Where are we compared to the Grand Kingdom, they are likely still around and throwing their wealth in everyone's faces.”

After the other patrons in the bar heard his remarks they began to get very suspicious. Slowly loosening their weapons to make sure they wouldn't get stuck while being drawn the hunters began to stand up and surround Zakhul. The daemon turned to face the hunters and backed up against the bar. “I would appreciate it if you would all back up.” Accidentally letting his anger flare up a bit of his demonic presence became unveiled and visible to the hunters. One of the hunters whispered “Daemon!” and they lunged into action. All moving in tandem they moved with blistering speed to kill the daemon quickly.

As the hunters rushed him Zakhul calmly watched what each one of the was doing for a bit. While for the hunters they were moving quite fast, they were nowhere near fast enough. As the closest of the blades almost touched him Zakhul stepped past the blade and drew the hunters dagger. With the same dagger he slit the owner’s throat. Stepping past the man before he could even register what happened to him Zakhul spun around and stabbed another in the back of the neck. Leaving the dagger in this one he continued on his path and broke the neck of the next man. While turning around he felt a slight pain in his stomach and looked down. A sword was slowly pushing itself through his abdomen and would soon exit through his back. Looking up at the man pushing the sword through he could tell this fighter was a step above the rest. This man had been able to track Zakhul’s movement and guess where the demon would go. Admirable, but insignificant nonetheless. Stepping to the side Zakhul let the blade cut through him and lunged towards the skilled hunter. Grabbing the front of the fighters face he shoved the man backwards causing him to go hurtling towards the wall of the tavern. Turning towards the last three he kicked the middle one away and smashed the other two together by their heads. Before he could relax an arrow pierced through his right bicep and a strike of lighting hit him square in the back. Turning around he saw a mage and an archer barricaded behind an overturned table. Noticing another arrow flying through the air he reached up to catch it. Mistiming it slightly he cut his hand on the head of the arrow. Ignoring the pain he rushed the table and slammed into it. The archer was hit by the table, but the mage managed to jump out of the way. Before the mage could even get up Zakhul had pulled the arrow from his bicep and stabbed it into the heart of the mage.

Finishing the entire fight in seconds he focused on the last human in the room. Turning back towards the bartender he grabbed the shocked man by his collar and pulled him close. “Make a single noise and you die. Now show me a map.” Zakhul knew his presence could be felt across the continent by anyone with a drop of magical ability in them. They would know an elder daemon had woken.

An Inquisitors Story: The City of Ash and Decay (A High-Casual journey)

Halek had been prowling by the edge of the combat looking for a weakness in the beast. Watching every move the creature made he had been trying to find even the slightest gap in the armor. When his allies had made the hole in the giant's armor Halek smelled opportunity. The armor seemed to be it's only defence. Quickly coming up with a plan Halek sheathed his sword and began to trot towards the giant. Multiple spells were being flung at the giant creature, not giving it time to retaliate.

Once Halek had closed the distance to about twenty feet he drew his dagger. While cutting his palm with the dagger he murmured,”venenum aspidum stillante portasse.” the blade began to turn a sickly green and began secreting a thick liquid of the same color. Taking aim he knew it was a somewhat difficult shot to hit with the creature moving so much. Halek was having a difficult time getting a good shot until Kharne came up behind the creature and grabbed it from behind. Now with the beast detained Halek slung his arm down, flinging the blade at the champion. As soon as he let go he knew his aim was true, but he still watched the blade tumble through the air until it landed within the hole in the armor.

Quickly backing away, Halek went towards the archers. While his dagger leaked venom into the giants body for a time, he could poison the archers arrows. Reaching the archers he looked towards the person commanding them, “I can poison your arrows if you need me to.”

ROME: In Flammas Imperii

I'm thinking of the captain of the 13th legion.