Rtron

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Logen sighed. Why is it, when it comes to children, that girls are often more sensible than boys? He mused to himself for a moment. Before he opened his mouth, he considered how badly the child might react. It wouldn't do to hurt or possibly kill a native noble of the Empire, even if the arrogant child started the fight. He gave a grim smile behind his helm. I suppose it won't do to actually hurt him. I just won't draw my blade then. It was always better to not draw blood. Gave the victim a far better chance of surviving the experience. Not to mention, it made his own chances of survival better. He was confident he could beat this annoying brat, especially with his curse. But he wasn't so confident he could beat all of the people gathered here. Natives tend to get angry when you kill other natives. Whether they were annoying or not mattered little. But what did he care? He was trapped in his armor, cursed with magic, immortal, and his country was destroyed by mages. He had nothing left to lose. "Better? I see a hot-headed, arrogant, kid trying to play at being a man. I see a child who hasn't realized when to draw and when to sheathe his blades, and finds irritating his supposed comrades amusing. I see a fool who treats the idea of going into battle against monsters who could rip him apart as a game. I'm not even certain you're my peer, much less my better. Put away your blades, boy. I might decide your worthy of respect by the time this adventure is over. Or I may just decide you're nothing more than what you originally appeared to be." With that, he walked past Vyro, his long strides rapidly taking him away from the boy he had just insulted. An enemy had just been made, Logen was certain. Well, if he wants to kill me, he's more than welcome too. Approaching, he examined the others he would be accompanying. The girl with the Lance he already knew. She seemed sensible. He only hoped she could use her lance as well as she thought. Upon seeing the other five, however, he became considerably more concerned. The boy was clearly no fighter. He will die quickly. If he's lucky. The girl he didn't trust. There was something...magelike about her. Or you could just be going paranoid with age. He chided himself. Still, he would keep an eye on her. It was never a good idea to mistrust first impressions. There was a scholar, who might be more useful off the battlefield. If he has useful talents, I'll try to keep him alive. If not...I respect his bravery. There was yet another person who looked ill-suited to combat, talking to the Empress. She looked, at best, like a peasant girl trying to claim fortune and fame in her baggy, simple, clothes. Another for the monsters to claim. The final one he felt better about. She had the look of a soldier about her, with her worn armor and weaponry. Me, the Emperor, his bodyguards, the two would-be duelists, their bodyguards, and the female soldier. We might be able to keep the rest of them alive. As the horses were brought out, Logen couldn't help but compare them to the horses the Mage-Hunters had been provided. Stocky and surefooted, they could run after a mage for weeks if necessary, and nothing in the world would cause them to shy or panic. He was not so sure of the reliability of any of these mounts. He shrugged, once again accepting the fact that all of the benefits he had once known were gone with Zalcan. Before he could go select one however, he needed to introduce himself to the Emperor. A few more strides and he was a respectable, nonthreatening, distance away. "Emperor," He said, dipping his head in greeting. "I am Logen, and I'm here to hopefully help you with your monster problem. Or die trying."

A Cracked Wand and A Tarnished Sword

This should be interesting to say the least.

A Cracked Wand and A Tarnished Sword

A flash of light. A groan of pain, rapidly turning into relief. That was how hours of tedious magical healing ended, as Rhian healed her patient. He wasn't one of her children. In fact, before now he had sneered at her and her children as they walked by. 'Monsters and freaks, governed by their whore of a shepherd!', he would call out. Rhian had repeatedly held back her children from seeking vengeance. Words would not hurt her, and she could see by his lifeforce that he would do nothing more than shout insults. He was too attached to life to risk anything else.He would be one that would never be converted, she could tell. But he came crawling to her when death seemed to be knocking at his door. He threw away all his pride and claims against her, to cling to life. She could have rejected him, let him die. But then she would have been no better than him, and how can such a person take care of all of her children? So she accepted him into her makeshift healing room, and set about healing all the ails that were killing him. Minutes turned into hours, and she lost track of time as she steadily hunted down and fixed everything she could in his body. When she was done, she sent him on his way. He left, leaving only a humble thank you. Three days. Then he'll be back to screaming insults. Rhian thought idly, sighing. Standing, groaning herself as she stretched muscles that had shifted very little in the past several hours, the Priestess of the Damned glanced behind her at Zek. Her silent guardian stood in his usual place, next to the door, in his rusted armor with his fanatically well kept mace. Years ago, she had found him nearly dead in an alley. nNked, brutally burned, beaten, and stabbed, his tongue cut out, death seemed certain. Yet she refused to give up on him. Saving him had been the longest and most strenuous act of healing she had ever done, and ever will do. Six whole days, stopping only briefly to eat, drink, and take care of necessities. When she was done, they both collapsed into a deep sleep. He awoke before she did and left soon after finding out who healed him, via written notes. When Rhian has awoken and heard the news, she shrugged, thanked her nameless Gods for giving her the strength to save him, and continued on her way. Not everyone would embrace her Gods. She had learned this at a young age. But Zek had defied all expectations and returned, wearing rusted armor and carrying a gleaming mace. From their written conversation, Rhian gathered that he had sworn a debt to protect her life from all harm, that his armor was rusted and never to be cleaned because of his previous sins and failures, and that he would never leave her side. After a few weeks of trying to get him to stop being only her bodyguard, Rhian had given up. Now his presence was as familiar and welcome as her own magic. "Well, come on Zek. Lets see if there's anything interesting going on around the town. Sleep is a long way off for me, and I know you're just going to follow me on my rounds." Zek merely nodded his rusted head, a slight screech being the result of this movement, and followed her out the door. "Probably will stop by the job board, just to see what's going around the town that might affect us. Do you think there are good chances we'll meet one of the children, or convert another? Or do you think it's more likely that someone will be stupid enough to try and rob or mug us? I'm placing my money on the latter, I'm afraid. Not all of the Damned are my children." She continued like this, amicably talking to him about everything from the weather to the likely hood of seeing a thief get caught, as they walked to the middle of town. Interesting things always happened there.

A Cracked Wand and A Tarnished Sword

deciding to take the roundabout route to get to the board. He had to get it first- he was already bored out of his mind

@SanaChan

I see what you did there. :p

Something Wicked This Way Comes

I'll get a post up by tomorrow at the latest.

A Cracked Wand and A Tarnished Sword

I'm still here I swear. *Goes to make post by tonight*

The Aesteria Chronicles

Shreckt hit the ground, the ice spikes flying over her head. She was quickly back on her feet, ready to attack again, but it was useless as the spirit dissipated. She was far enough away from the final barrage of ice that those that hit her merely glanced off her armor. Eli took the opportunity that the collapse of Walkins' had created to reload his pistol. "He probably is," he said casually to the barkeep, "but there's more than likely something really nasty about to happen. Nothing lethal to all of us of course. He still wants the children alive." As soon as that comment had been finished, the first Walkins walked in. "See? Like thi-" Eli's positively cheerful remark was cut off as another one appeared behind him. Then there was no time to talk as bullets began flying. Eli, cursing as he felt the wounds in his leg and shoulder reopen, dove behind the counter. "Like this. He has a cloning spirit. Lovely." Shreckt. You take the one with the pistol, Zaz, Saruk, and I will go for the steam repeater. Lumin, take care of that damn ice spirit. Yes, I'll get right on that. After I finish this smoke... NOW! Fine, fine calm down. I preferred you before Ragnarok arrived.

Kal, doing his job with a happy little smile, simply nudged his way in front of Helen and the children as the ice spikes came down. The spikes were deflected by a brief shield of light made by the little turtle. By then, Lumin was already spitting another fireball at the ice spirit. Shreckt took the blood still oozing from her palm and slashed it at the pistol wielding Walkins, following close behind it it, intent to impale the pistol wielding Walkins' on her sword.. A crescent of blood, sharp as a sword, raced towards his chest. Eli stood and fired six shots at the steam repeater wielding Walkins. Saruk made the third shot more likely to pierce armor, and Zaz sent another lightning bolt his way. "Keep them coming after we kill these two!" He called out to the one in front of him. "I want to see how many times you're willing to die!"

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Althalus, relationship fixer of the year.

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Couple's spat.

Mar froze. Her eyes narrowed on the diplomat as he uttered the words she had been accustomed to hearing in her homeland. However she hadn't expected the news of Mesa Gaan to happen. Never in her wildest nightmares did the extinction of her race ever occur to her. At hearing the venom spat her eyes flashed red. Wrath. Hate. Anger. All three danced in her core and flooded her center, a reaction foreign in her experience, creating intensity in her mind. One which was almost physically painful. Her knuckles tightened about her weapon as she glared at the man, her fangs still erected and twitched to sink into his throat. "Monster..." She said quietly, her body tensed and corded with emotion. It took a moment, several in fact, to realize who stood in front of her. Althalus' image came into her awareness suddenly. His words sounded like they were filtered through water and barely registered through the pain. Mar spoke in a cold tone, a single warning. "Move Althalus..." Oh Gods... This was going to end badly. Horribly. Potentially painfully. He could feel it. Still, he couldn't let her do this. Not now, not while she was in this state and she could be blamed for it. Then the College would definitely kill her. Or at the very least exile her and Lyn. Very slowly, very carefully, Althalus removed the few remaining daggers he had hidden in his armor and then threw them behind him. Oh please let reason work for once... He prayed to whoever might be listening, and be helpful. "Mar. You can't do this. He is a godsdamned fool, and an ass, but he didn't kill your people. It hurts. I know it fucking hurts. But killing him won't bring them back, or make you feel better. I tried. I know. So please. Put down-" Althalus's words changed into an abrupt shout of alarm as her tail whipped at his legs. Fortunately enough, he was prepared for something like this and leapt upwards out of the way. He landed in a crouch, ready to dodge again. "Fine. Hit me. Beat me. But by all the Gods I'm not letting you do this to yourself." Mar merely hissed. It seemed she wouldn't waste breath or bother, her emotions bubbling to the surface. She was obvious to the incident between Grey and the diplomat, her mind dimming slightly in anything above emotion. If she had, though she would've detested Grey's reaction, her heart would've appreciated his overreaction. Her eyes held something Althalus would've never seen. Flickering with hatred and pain, her tail lashed out again. It swung at his middle and aimed to toss him from her reach and ability to stop her. Althalus hit the ground as Mar's tail whistled over head. In an instant he was back on his feet, ready to move again. "Mar, you don't want to..." He trailed off as he saw the look in her eyes. She was clearly not willing to listen to reason. Well. At least if they have strong emotions they don't last long...right? He couldn't quite remember what Mar had actually said to him, and wasn't about to waste valuable time trying to search his memory. "Okay." He said quietly. "Try not to break my spine. I rather like living." Again, Mar's tail lashed out like before and at thigh level. He jumped like before but this time, the tail end nearest her torso jerked bring her closer. Her hand subconsciously dropped her weapon while her hand reached out to touch him, waiting to throw him away and out of the way.Mar's teeth still exposed and twitched, her body eager to release whatever possessed her inside. Althalus was in midair when he realized Mar's hand was coming for him. He jerked backwards as best he could, but only succeeded in keeping her hand from his throat, it grasping his chest armor. And with that, she tossed him out of the way. Immediately as he hit the ground, she started moving towards the diplomat, who was about to be killed by Grey. Once again Althalus was on his feet in a heartbeat, taking a brief run before leaping at Mar's back and attempting to get an arm around her throat. Whatever he was attempting to say to Mar was changed into a shout of pain as his hands touched Mar's skin. Agony shot through them. Still he just shouted again and continued trying. Mar's torso tossed herself forward, trying to throw Althalus over her shoulder. Her waist bent and tail widened, creating a base, while she reached her hands up to aid her. Wound oozed as Althalus' hand tried to get around and her hand clasped around his elbow and wrenched it back trying to stop him. Althalus tightened his arm around Mar's neck, more from the reflexive tightening against the agony searing through his body as Mar's hand touched his face than any conscious effort against her pulling hand. If he had planned to say something, it was lost in the gritting of teeth and heartfelt groan of pain. Mar's hands clawed and tore at his arm, ripping into the shirt. Her torso twisted and withered about as air seemed unable to reach her lungs. He had tilted her head enough, nested under her chin, preventing her from biting into his arm with her fangs. His muscles flexed and tightened, closing off her throat until her body became sluggish. Mar thrashed her torso and back against the ground, both scrapping her side and likely Althalus until her body started to pass out. Althalus let out more grunts of pain as he hit the ground, pain not leaving any room for regret. When Mar finally stopped moving and passed, out(as was evidenced by the end of the new waves of agony going into his body), Althalus let go and rolled off of her. For a moment, he just laid there, waiting for the pain to lessen. When it finally did, he slowly picked himself up. "I'm going to find whoever taught her to do that, and I'm going to hit them. Grey, put the diplomat down I didn't just go through that so you could kill him, Leith thank you for being reasonable, and does anyone have any bandages and such I can borrow?" He gestured to Mar, burying the guilt he felt for doing that to her down. He would apologize later. "She appears to have reopened her wound...and made a few new ones."

Blood Act I~ Ghosts of the Past

Give the robed man to the bear to kill.