Wraithblade6 Member
Interrogator Chaplain
STATUS: I may not come back. It was nice playing with you all. I wish you all good lives. 6 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 6211 (1.39 / day)
- VMs: 1
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Username history
- Wraithblade6 12 yrs ago
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Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
I may not come back. It was nice playing with you all. I wish you all good lives.
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6 yrs ago
The fires of hell did not kill me.
9 yrs ago
No shoes no shirt and I still get service WHY?!
9 yrs ago
Too tired to post.
9 yrs ago
God told me, I've already got the life.....
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Most Recent Posts
That screwhead
nice. lol
Oh yes, i need to get back to Dexter.
Ice?
The two humans ran frantically out of the building together, smoke covering their escape. Damien kept a grip on Conner's arm to keep him close. They got about 50 meters away from the building when Damien flatly tripped over some rubble that was thrown when the dragon crashed into the building. Yelping, he crashed to the grassy ground in pain.
Conner obviously would have stopped with him, and that's when Damein finally got a good look at him. "Ah!.. Damnit... Conner! You're bleeding." It was true. Conner hadn't escaped one of the dragon's razor sharp nails and blood was soaking his clothing. Gasping, unsure how much time they had, Damein quickly put pressure over the wound. He had no idea how deep it was, but blood was blood, and ther was always a limited amount of it. Glancing behind him, Damien heard the dragon and wizard speaking a few things to each other. The sound of wings flapping simply terrified him, and he looked at Conner's face.
In a heartbeat, he could see the man was nearly sickened with grief. Conner felt that this was all his fault. "Sorry..." He began.
Rather than hate him or scold him, Damein felt nothing but sympathy. He wrapped his hand behind Conner's head and pressed his forehead against him in a brotherly fashion, still holding pressure on his wound. "It's alright, Conner. You didn't do anything wrong. You were just trying to live. Nothing wrong with that. Now listen to me..." The sounds of wings stopped all too close to the two hunters. The smoke was blowing away, revealing the shape of a dragon-man directly in front of them. "We're going to get out of this. I don't think the shapeshifters are here to kill us, or that guy we tied to the chair wouldn't have been talking."
Damien went silent again as he looked over to Draco and Inkness before them. The two had both just taken a full dose of cyanide each. Not being immortal vampires, they should both be dead. Instead, they were introducing themselves to each other and rubbing bellies as if their bleeding enemies weren't directly in front of them. Technically, it was an insult, but Damien was going to take advantage of any opportunity to stay alive. It looked like the two were about to become lovers. Hopefully, being distracted with each other would give the humans opportunity to escape. He'd well-remember the immunity of weredragons to his arrows.
"Are you going to kill us?" He asked clearly.
Conner obviously would have stopped with him, and that's when Damein finally got a good look at him. "Ah!.. Damnit... Conner! You're bleeding." It was true. Conner hadn't escaped one of the dragon's razor sharp nails and blood was soaking his clothing. Gasping, unsure how much time they had, Damein quickly put pressure over the wound. He had no idea how deep it was, but blood was blood, and ther was always a limited amount of it. Glancing behind him, Damien heard the dragon and wizard speaking a few things to each other. The sound of wings flapping simply terrified him, and he looked at Conner's face.
In a heartbeat, he could see the man was nearly sickened with grief. Conner felt that this was all his fault. "Sorry..." He began.
Rather than hate him or scold him, Damein felt nothing but sympathy. He wrapped his hand behind Conner's head and pressed his forehead against him in a brotherly fashion, still holding pressure on his wound. "It's alright, Conner. You didn't do anything wrong. You were just trying to live. Nothing wrong with that. Now listen to me..." The sounds of wings stopped all too close to the two hunters. The smoke was blowing away, revealing the shape of a dragon-man directly in front of them. "We're going to get out of this. I don't think the shapeshifters are here to kill us, or that guy we tied to the chair wouldn't have been talking."
Damien went silent again as he looked over to Draco and Inkness before them. The two had both just taken a full dose of cyanide each. Not being immortal vampires, they should both be dead. Instead, they were introducing themselves to each other and rubbing bellies as if their bleeding enemies weren't directly in front of them. Technically, it was an insult, but Damien was going to take advantage of any opportunity to stay alive. It looked like the two were about to become lovers. Hopefully, being distracted with each other would give the humans opportunity to escape. He'd well-remember the immunity of weredragons to his arrows.
"Are you going to kill us?" He asked clearly.
Character Name: Ilyndriel "Lyn" Shadowsong
Species: Night Elf
Species description:
Lyn is from a small, obscure community of tall elves far to the east who, for the most part keep to themselves and are generally unheard of in the rest of Eulona. Something unique about them is that arcane magic is banned by their leaders. However, druidism and holy magic are permitted and have been practiced since ancient times. The night elves, as you can imagine, tend to do their sleeping in the day, and are very protective of their forest. They are a predominantly matriarchal society, with the males normally expected to become druids unless they are unable for some reason. Like all elves, they are noble, long-lived, and proud. Night elves have a strong respect for nature and respect wild creatures. The deity of their people is the goddess of the moon.
Their skin can vary in color from that of pale moonlight to deep ashen or shades of violet. Most night elves have yellow, glowing eyes. They are tall, with their bear-like warriors being quite immense and intimidating, certainly formidable matches to the strongest orcs. They tend to have thick hair of various colors, but typically green, blue, or black.
Gender: Male
Noteworthy Abilities / Limitations:
Lyn is a priest of the moon goddess who specializes in healing and defense. Calling on his deity, he can use holy magic that is either of the domain of light or shadow. He can cast a shield on himself or others, heal wounds, dispell enchantments, and levitate. Among his offensive abilities, he has limited mind-control, which would be simmilar to mesmerizing or hypnotizing an individual. He can also assume a shadowform, which minimizes damage taken from spell or physical attacks. Fear and pain are among his shadow spells as well.
Night elves also have the innate ability to phase out, becoming nearly invisable if they hold perfectly still. They call this shadowmelding. A few of them can do it very quickly, appearing to blink out of visiability for a brief second.
Lyn... is fairly bad with weapons. Dear god, don't let him near explosives.
Background: Ilyndriel is the "illegitimate" child of Jarod Shadowsong and Shandris Feathermoon. Jarod was a great general in the ancient war on the demons, which was barely won. It was Jarod's elder sister who was the great warrior, but she was not a leader. Jarod himself was nothing more than a bumpkin, a peon, recruited out of necessity. Yet, in the darkest hour, when all their leaders had been killed, he stepped up to organize the greatest army the world had ever seen, leading the last of his people, allies of other races, and even demigods in a single, unified push to oust the demon forces. Reluctant as he was, he saved the world from complete destruction. Shandris, was a young child at the time of the war, much too young for Jarod. It was even further taboo that they were of opposite social caste. Night elves don't get married like many other races, yet... Ilyndriel was definitely unexpected.
Appearance:
I can't find a great image, but imagine a mesh of these two:
Lyn has light, silvery-blue skin and uniquely bright, light-blue hair that he lets "do as it will," hanging down his back. Long, knife-like ears stick out the back of his head. He's lean and fit from traveling, but he doesn't have the muscle of a fighter. He wears cloth robes, and carries a simple metal staff with a small glowing white orb in the heart of a cresent at the top. On his back is a travelling pack, with a particular box with a lock on it, wrapped in runes of every language that read, "DANGER! Do Not Open! Not Cookies!"
Reason for Detainment: Not sure where we are starting Lyn off. He's a peace-loving type, probably sympathetic to the elves of Nillanor. He's a protector and a priest, and a warrior against demons and evils and the like in general.
Species: Night Elf
Species description:
Lyn is from a small, obscure community of tall elves far to the east who, for the most part keep to themselves and are generally unheard of in the rest of Eulona. Something unique about them is that arcane magic is banned by their leaders. However, druidism and holy magic are permitted and have been practiced since ancient times. The night elves, as you can imagine, tend to do their sleeping in the day, and are very protective of their forest. They are a predominantly matriarchal society, with the males normally expected to become druids unless they are unable for some reason. Like all elves, they are noble, long-lived, and proud. Night elves have a strong respect for nature and respect wild creatures. The deity of their people is the goddess of the moon.
Their skin can vary in color from that of pale moonlight to deep ashen or shades of violet. Most night elves have yellow, glowing eyes. They are tall, with their bear-like warriors being quite immense and intimidating, certainly formidable matches to the strongest orcs. They tend to have thick hair of various colors, but typically green, blue, or black.
Gender: Male
Noteworthy Abilities / Limitations:
Lyn is a priest of the moon goddess who specializes in healing and defense. Calling on his deity, he can use holy magic that is either of the domain of light or shadow. He can cast a shield on himself or others, heal wounds, dispell enchantments, and levitate. Among his offensive abilities, he has limited mind-control, which would be simmilar to mesmerizing or hypnotizing an individual. He can also assume a shadowform, which minimizes damage taken from spell or physical attacks. Fear and pain are among his shadow spells as well.
Night elves also have the innate ability to phase out, becoming nearly invisable if they hold perfectly still. They call this shadowmelding. A few of them can do it very quickly, appearing to blink out of visiability for a brief second.
Lyn... is fairly bad with weapons. Dear god, don't let him near explosives.
Background: Ilyndriel is the "illegitimate" child of Jarod Shadowsong and Shandris Feathermoon. Jarod was a great general in the ancient war on the demons, which was barely won. It was Jarod's elder sister who was the great warrior, but she was not a leader. Jarod himself was nothing more than a bumpkin, a peon, recruited out of necessity. Yet, in the darkest hour, when all their leaders had been killed, he stepped up to organize the greatest army the world had ever seen, leading the last of his people, allies of other races, and even demigods in a single, unified push to oust the demon forces. Reluctant as he was, he saved the world from complete destruction. Shandris, was a young child at the time of the war, much too young for Jarod. It was even further taboo that they were of opposite social caste. Night elves don't get married like many other races, yet... Ilyndriel was definitely unexpected.
Appearance:
I can't find a great image, but imagine a mesh of these two:
Lyn has light, silvery-blue skin and uniquely bright, light-blue hair that he lets "do as it will," hanging down his back. Long, knife-like ears stick out the back of his head. He's lean and fit from traveling, but he doesn't have the muscle of a fighter. He wears cloth robes, and carries a simple metal staff with a small glowing white orb in the heart of a cresent at the top. On his back is a travelling pack, with a particular box with a lock on it, wrapped in runes of every language that read, "DANGER! Do Not Open! Not Cookies!"
Reason for Detainment: Not sure where we are starting Lyn off. He's a peace-loving type, probably sympathetic to the elves of Nillanor. He's a protector and a priest, and a warrior against demons and evils and the like in general.
I promise to post tomorrow night, and bring a certain teapot into the rp.
After some time, a day's length or so, as it was in Hell, The giant winged devil once again returned. A faint smoke rising off it's dark grey, naked body. Pulling a spike out of the tall pillar of stone, he dropped the tormented, undying victim to the scorched ground. Collapsing like a corpse atop the dried pool of his own blood, Mithias briefly whimpered in agony. Grinning the devil raised a hand toward him and magically healed his wounds. The demon spoke with an electrically reverberating deep voice, "Tomorrow, you shall die a new death, over and again, until your soul is broken. I shall make you my eternal slave." His spiked tail whipped softly behind him as he walked off into the smouldering pits, leaving Mithias to rise pathetically to his hands and knees.
His head of long, black hair hanging, Mithias reached a hand over his stomach. He was restored, for the moment, and couldn't deny within himself a twisted gratitude. Regret still dominated him.
His head of long, black hair hanging, Mithias reached a hand over his stomach. He was restored, for the moment, and couldn't deny within himself a twisted gratitude. Regret still dominated him.
It appeared that Damien's appearance had given Conner the upper hand, and David was tied up in the chair. Damien noted the purple eyes on their captive intruder and knew he was some kind of supernatural. Exhaling and lowering his arrow, he turned to the injured werepanther. She wasn't dead, thankfully, so her powers must have been great. Damien pulled her body into the building and layed her down some feet away from David. "Are you a were animal too?" He asked the magic user with some authority in his voice, not expecting an answer. he kept his eyes on David while beginning to tie up the girl as well. He didn't want to kill them... They weren't vampires, which were obligatory killers. ...but if he had to, he would. One thing about their attack confused him though. The one called David had made himself known by speaking. Perhaps they weren't planning on killing Conner, so it would only be fair to treat the enemy in kind.
The look on David's face preceeded the rush of air that accompanied a wall crashing down, and a dragon barging in on the scene. "Get down!" Damien shouted, for lack of knowing what in hell was upon them.
"Why do you shoot and ask questions later?" The dragon rumbled.
"Damien?" Connor shouted questioningly, showing his fear.
Damien had backed himself up and was aiming an arrow at the dragon's head. "Because we'd be dead before we opened our mouths, dragon. I don't expect YOU to understand." His words were strong, but Damien's hand was trembling ever so slightly. He spoke again, more softly aside to his fellow, "There's no point in running, Conner." He swallowed, trying to show the lad some courage and help him stay calm. "Get out if you can. Tell the others."
The dragon freed David and scooped up the girl, licking her wound. David mutter something about how his day was going, but Damien was focused on the dragon. The fearsome beast clearly had no idea what it was like to be weak, to be stalked and killed to feed some preditor you could not overpower or escape, to lose loved ones to the same demise. Damien's long black hair trailed behind him like a mane as he looked down the shaft of his arrow. He narrowed his eyes. He knew he could hit that big, dragon's eye at this range without question. He was waiting for the moment to do just that.
Damien risked a glance at Conner and saw the man was fearful, indecisive. Suddenly the young man made a rash move, diving and shooting. Damien gasped in horror. "Conner no!" But it was too late. His plea was drowned out by the sounds of gunfire.
The dragon was after Conner. Damien reacted without thinking. Instinctively, like a wild creature reacting in a life and death situation, he dashed to the side to get in position on that big, violet eye. He didn't even think about saving Conner. His body, his will just knew what to do, as if possessed, for it was the same thing that always happened to him... the same person he was always saving in his dreams... his father.
Not even looking to see where the arrow hit, Damien reached out to grab Conner's hand as he ran past. "Conner!!" He shouted as the dragon roared behind him. Pulling the young man with him, they tried to run. In desperation, Damien grabbed a smoke bomb off his jacket and pulled the pin, throwing it down. Maybe the dragon wouldn't see which way they ran once they could get outside.
The look on David's face preceeded the rush of air that accompanied a wall crashing down, and a dragon barging in on the scene. "Get down!" Damien shouted, for lack of knowing what in hell was upon them.
"Why do you shoot and ask questions later?" The dragon rumbled.
"Damien?" Connor shouted questioningly, showing his fear.
Damien had backed himself up and was aiming an arrow at the dragon's head. "Because we'd be dead before we opened our mouths, dragon. I don't expect YOU to understand." His words were strong, but Damien's hand was trembling ever so slightly. He spoke again, more softly aside to his fellow, "There's no point in running, Conner." He swallowed, trying to show the lad some courage and help him stay calm. "Get out if you can. Tell the others."
The dragon freed David and scooped up the girl, licking her wound. David mutter something about how his day was going, but Damien was focused on the dragon. The fearsome beast clearly had no idea what it was like to be weak, to be stalked and killed to feed some preditor you could not overpower or escape, to lose loved ones to the same demise. Damien's long black hair trailed behind him like a mane as he looked down the shaft of his arrow. He narrowed his eyes. He knew he could hit that big, dragon's eye at this range without question. He was waiting for the moment to do just that.
Damien risked a glance at Conner and saw the man was fearful, indecisive. Suddenly the young man made a rash move, diving and shooting. Damien gasped in horror. "Conner no!" But it was too late. His plea was drowned out by the sounds of gunfire.
The dragon was after Conner. Damien reacted without thinking. Instinctively, like a wild creature reacting in a life and death situation, he dashed to the side to get in position on that big, violet eye. He didn't even think about saving Conner. His body, his will just knew what to do, as if possessed, for it was the same thing that always happened to him... the same person he was always saving in his dreams... his father.
Not even looking to see where the arrow hit, Damien reached out to grab Conner's hand as he ran past. "Conner!!" He shouted as the dragon roared behind him. Pulling the young man with him, they tried to run. In desperation, Damien grabbed a smoke bomb off his jacket and pulled the pin, throwing it down. Maybe the dragon wouldn't see which way they ran once they could get outside.
Yes, sorry. I am at work, but will post tonight. I have much to say.
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