Why is it I feel like I am wading in dwarves?
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
Status
Recent Statuses
6 yrs ago
Current
I may not come back. It was nice playing with you all. I wish you all good lives.
7
likes
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
@Rusalka
Mithias listened, plagued by the pain in his gut which he held his blood-covered hand over. He tried to answer. "Ah. I don't know about a such girl.... No family? Sounds like an escapee from the kind of project Elle Woodson might be involved in. So, I see that you're not sent here by the coven to kill me then? I was about to be impressed with the speed of the Elle's vengeance."
The black-haired vampire spoke readily, but not in a pathetically rushed tone of fear. He placed one hand down to support himself. What he had said so far was slightly unexpected. So, he appeared to be at odds with the local vampires. Big deal. His problems were not going to matter in the next few minutes. "I'll tell you what you want to know, but I must tell you more than you asked for. Vampires are far too numerous in these times, and now the young move into territories not their own and act like farmers among sheep. The coven in New Oreleans is lead by Ms. Woodson, Elle, and she reports to an even larger heirarchy. Every large city in these times has a nest of supplicant, sycophantic, selfish psychopaths who all want to suck their way to the top. Elle had her claws in everything here, even more than I have yet discovered, I am sure. Her next three executives were sordid scum: Roland Marks, Heather Larksby, and Ivanna. ... No, Ivanna didn't have another name. Roland had thralls managing the local banks, Heather saw to controlling the local human authorities and legal system, and Ivanna lead their internal law enforcement, the vampire executioners, who keep their own kind oppressed.
Elle herself lived in and gave her orders from the corportate media tower downtown. Farren Bixby Stalton manipulated the news agencies there with her and was also her personal butler. But, they probably won't be causing any trouble, for a little while." The blood on his clothes, Rebecca would realize was vampire blood, and possibly not his own.
"They're all dead, all except for Ms. Woodson." The wounded vampire frowned at that. "I had been watching this coven for 5 years, since they came, but I had to intervene. Only a short while ago, the New Orleans coven somehow orchestrated the murder of the werewolf pack leader, the 'alpha,' and to kill such a truly free and wild supernatural being is an unfathomable crime. The mean to incite war with lycankind, and I am sure they have already accomplished it. It may be too late..." He winced.
"Elle Woodson is responsible for this. Perhaps I should have put an end to her as well, but... I let her go. Perhaps it is because, I believe that, not everything deserves to die." He would have chuckled if it wasn't torture to do so, for surely his assailant didn't hold the same views. It really didn't look like there was a way out of this.
"I do not want to die myself, I have someone to live for, but..." Mithias didnt' go on. The look on his face made clear it was regretable, but his own tale would be kept to himself. "I cannot stop you if you truly wish to destroy me right now. Please, stop the crimes against the werewolves, and against humans." He seemed a bit dulled from his injury. "The innocent must be protected. Keep this world in balance." He looked around himself, but no one would be coming to his resque it seemed.
No begging, no appeals to god. Mithias chose his last words. "I loved you father."
Mithias listened, plagued by the pain in his gut which he held his blood-covered hand over. He tried to answer. "Ah. I don't know about a such girl.... No family? Sounds like an escapee from the kind of project Elle Woodson might be involved in. So, I see that you're not sent here by the coven to kill me then? I was about to be impressed with the speed of the Elle's vengeance."
The black-haired vampire spoke readily, but not in a pathetically rushed tone of fear. He placed one hand down to support himself. What he had said so far was slightly unexpected. So, he appeared to be at odds with the local vampires. Big deal. His problems were not going to matter in the next few minutes. "I'll tell you what you want to know, but I must tell you more than you asked for. Vampires are far too numerous in these times, and now the young move into territories not their own and act like farmers among sheep. The coven in New Oreleans is lead by Ms. Woodson, Elle, and she reports to an even larger heirarchy. Every large city in these times has a nest of supplicant, sycophantic, selfish psychopaths who all want to suck their way to the top. Elle had her claws in everything here, even more than I have yet discovered, I am sure. Her next three executives were sordid scum: Roland Marks, Heather Larksby, and Ivanna. ... No, Ivanna didn't have another name. Roland had thralls managing the local banks, Heather saw to controlling the local human authorities and legal system, and Ivanna lead their internal law enforcement, the vampire executioners, who keep their own kind oppressed.
Elle herself lived in and gave her orders from the corportate media tower downtown. Farren Bixby Stalton manipulated the news agencies there with her and was also her personal butler. But, they probably won't be causing any trouble, for a little while." The blood on his clothes, Rebecca would realize was vampire blood, and possibly not his own.
"They're all dead, all except for Ms. Woodson." The wounded vampire frowned at that. "I had been watching this coven for 5 years, since they came, but I had to intervene. Only a short while ago, the New Orleans coven somehow orchestrated the murder of the werewolf pack leader, the 'alpha,' and to kill such a truly free and wild supernatural being is an unfathomable crime. The mean to incite war with lycankind, and I am sure they have already accomplished it. It may be too late..." He winced.
"Elle Woodson is responsible for this. Perhaps I should have put an end to her as well, but... I let her go. Perhaps it is because, I believe that, not everything deserves to die." He would have chuckled if it wasn't torture to do so, for surely his assailant didn't hold the same views. It really didn't look like there was a way out of this.
"I do not want to die myself, I have someone to live for, but..." Mithias didnt' go on. The look on his face made clear it was regretable, but his own tale would be kept to himself. "I cannot stop you if you truly wish to destroy me right now. Please, stop the crimes against the werewolves, and against humans." He seemed a bit dulled from his injury. "The innocent must be protected. Keep this world in balance." He looked around himself, but no one would be coming to his resque it seemed.
No begging, no appeals to god. Mithias chose his last words. "I loved you father."
@Teoinsanity@thewizardguy@supertinyking
The goblins' eyes lit up as a seemingly endless feast of 'human' appeared before them in the many copies of Red. They went nuts. Groups of them would rush copies, gnash on their legs and arms, pull trip ropes to bring them down and jump on them, and all the while drooling in anticipation of a warm, juicy bite. Of course, every time they took down a clone and made to tear off a mouthful of meat, their sharky teeth would only meet with air as the copy of Red poofed out of existence in mockery. One of the larger goblins raise a wicked looking spork into the air and howled in frustration. The rest of the swarm of green landsharks seemed to agree, and they doubled their efforts even further in chasing down all the Reds.
White flames still flickering from the wound on its shoulder, the demon warrior appeared to hesitate. Oh, of course it seethed with rage. The mere act of hesitation was an admonition of weakness, and weakness in the culture of evil made you somebody's bitch. The creature was furious. After all this time, the entrapped soul of a lawful demigod was within his grasp, and somehow it had landed in the hands of a warrior just capable enough to use it. But what was more, was that the sword had somehow been awakened. It would be much harder to capture now, particularly since it had a wielder.
In the world of Golarion, devils regard holy items and silver as deadly substances. They instinctively shy away from contact with such items and avoid them whenever possible. Binders who wish to pact with these infernal outsiders keep these substances least 60 feet from the summoning circle, and if they want to threaten their subjects, they keep them much closer. An even better defense against devils, is a holy weapon. As with demons, a holy weapon is strong enough to drive through any devil’s natural defenses, and the presence of such an item in the summoning chamber is an affront to more powerful or subtle devils.
Amid the cacophony of futilely flying goblins, the enraged fiend clenched it's fist and stomped its foot. As it did this, a pillar of fire and lava shot out of the ground underneath Kisaki. Whether or not he dodged the spell, the hellborn knight was already loosening its chains. SWinging them in an arc overhead, each one barbed with a sharp hook on the end, he loosed them at the recovering young warrior. The servants of the master were relentless, and this one wasn't about to give up yet. Apparently, even an oversized, demonic hellknight could play the ranged game. He'd keep attacking Kisaki until he got what he wanted, unless of course someone else dared attempt to join in. *cough*
The goblins' eyes lit up as a seemingly endless feast of 'human' appeared before them in the many copies of Red. They went nuts. Groups of them would rush copies, gnash on their legs and arms, pull trip ropes to bring them down and jump on them, and all the while drooling in anticipation of a warm, juicy bite. Of course, every time they took down a clone and made to tear off a mouthful of meat, their sharky teeth would only meet with air as the copy of Red poofed out of existence in mockery. One of the larger goblins raise a wicked looking spork into the air and howled in frustration. The rest of the swarm of green landsharks seemed to agree, and they doubled their efforts even further in chasing down all the Reds.
White flames still flickering from the wound on its shoulder, the demon warrior appeared to hesitate. Oh, of course it seethed with rage. The mere act of hesitation was an admonition of weakness, and weakness in the culture of evil made you somebody's bitch. The creature was furious. After all this time, the entrapped soul of a lawful demigod was within his grasp, and somehow it had landed in the hands of a warrior just capable enough to use it. But what was more, was that the sword had somehow been awakened. It would be much harder to capture now, particularly since it had a wielder.
In the world of Golarion, devils regard holy items and silver as deadly substances. They instinctively shy away from contact with such items and avoid them whenever possible. Binders who wish to pact with these infernal outsiders keep these substances least 60 feet from the summoning circle, and if they want to threaten their subjects, they keep them much closer. An even better defense against devils, is a holy weapon. As with demons, a holy weapon is strong enough to drive through any devil’s natural defenses, and the presence of such an item in the summoning chamber is an affront to more powerful or subtle devils.
Amid the cacophony of futilely flying goblins, the enraged fiend clenched it's fist and stomped its foot. As it did this, a pillar of fire and lava shot out of the ground underneath Kisaki. Whether or not he dodged the spell, the hellborn knight was already loosening its chains. SWinging them in an arc overhead, each one barbed with a sharp hook on the end, he loosed them at the recovering young warrior. The servants of the master were relentless, and this one wasn't about to give up yet. Apparently, even an oversized, demonic hellknight could play the ranged game. He'd keep attacking Kisaki until he got what he wanted, unless of course someone else dared attempt to join in. *cough*
@Rusalka lol np.
And as for YOU, wraithblade.
I'm gonna take that ring on his neck and eat it.
:O!!! ... I am not responsible for what happens.
Actually this same thing goes for Damien. You're 27 and you have the magical capability to stand toe to toe with the likes of Theodore? What makes you so special with the craft mate.
(wraith you dont have to answer, you've already been approved, but I am curious.)
Hmmm.... *shrug* Pact with a devil.
@Rusalka
The blue haired girl screamed and the gun went off. It was at fairly close range, and the timing was impeccable. The fast reflexes of a vampire reacting instantaneously in fear were spot on, like a Zen master archer, finally firing a shot after an hour of meditating on a single point in space. There was no time between her instinct and the result, no thought or emotion running in her head to jumble up the signal to her fair little hand. The bullet pierced the vampire's flesh without any chance of being dodged.
Mithias stifled a grunt as he was shot in the gut. Had had been shot many times before, and never before had bullets stopped him. They couldn't. Had he thought he needed to avoid being shot, he would have been far more cautious. Of course, he never expected a vampire to be carrying holy-imbued ammunition. Shock struck him as he realized the pain from his wound was only growing, burning inside of his body like a bright coal. His brow furrowed anxiously as what little color he had drained from his face and he went down on one knee. Desparately, he tried to ascess what damage had been done to him and he covered his wound. Weakness threatened to overtake him, but he fought against it. Any lesser vampire would have passed out or gone up in smoke in an instant. He trembled slightly behind clenched white teeth.
Seven centuries. Was this all the time he would endure on this earth? The power and life that he had been given in exchange for his fall from grace as a knight... Did it end here? Mithias looked up at the two females. Truly, they had shot him on accident, a coward's move. Yet, lethality might have been their intent all along. Like a fool, he had not considered that they could have been hunting him. Perhaps their use of holy weaponry had won them elder's lives before, or perhaps it was a defensive measure against those like himself. Ah the details didn't matter. He was now at the wrong end of a holy weapon and likely too slowed to effectively flee. He was in no way curious nor desirous to experience death, not for a long long time yet, but if this was it, if this was the moment... at least it had been a beautiful night.
Wanting to live, and avidly looking for the slimist chance of survival, Mithias wasn't stupid. He gasped in pain and squeezed his yellow eyes shut, but he didn't try to get up or run or attack. One more bullet like that, especially into his skull, could possibly be enough to kill him. Containing thie pain, he glared at Rebecca like a wounded animal, a large wounded animal. Skipping insults and small talk, Mithias jumped to the crux of the situation. "What do you want from me?" He asked her.
The blue haired girl screamed and the gun went off. It was at fairly close range, and the timing was impeccable. The fast reflexes of a vampire reacting instantaneously in fear were spot on, like a Zen master archer, finally firing a shot after an hour of meditating on a single point in space. There was no time between her instinct and the result, no thought or emotion running in her head to jumble up the signal to her fair little hand. The bullet pierced the vampire's flesh without any chance of being dodged.
Mithias stifled a grunt as he was shot in the gut. Had had been shot many times before, and never before had bullets stopped him. They couldn't. Had he thought he needed to avoid being shot, he would have been far more cautious. Of course, he never expected a vampire to be carrying holy-imbued ammunition. Shock struck him as he realized the pain from his wound was only growing, burning inside of his body like a bright coal. His brow furrowed anxiously as what little color he had drained from his face and he went down on one knee. Desparately, he tried to ascess what damage had been done to him and he covered his wound. Weakness threatened to overtake him, but he fought against it. Any lesser vampire would have passed out or gone up in smoke in an instant. He trembled slightly behind clenched white teeth.
Seven centuries. Was this all the time he would endure on this earth? The power and life that he had been given in exchange for his fall from grace as a knight... Did it end here? Mithias looked up at the two females. Truly, they had shot him on accident, a coward's move. Yet, lethality might have been their intent all along. Like a fool, he had not considered that they could have been hunting him. Perhaps their use of holy weaponry had won them elder's lives before, or perhaps it was a defensive measure against those like himself. Ah the details didn't matter. He was now at the wrong end of a holy weapon and likely too slowed to effectively flee. He was in no way curious nor desirous to experience death, not for a long long time yet, but if this was it, if this was the moment... at least it had been a beautiful night.
Wanting to live, and avidly looking for the slimist chance of survival, Mithias wasn't stupid. He gasped in pain and squeezed his yellow eyes shut, but he didn't try to get up or run or attack. One more bullet like that, especially into his skull, could possibly be enough to kill him. Containing thie pain, he glared at Rebecca like a wounded animal, a large wounded animal. Skipping insults and small talk, Mithias jumped to the crux of the situation. "What do you want from me?" He asked her.
@Zelosse Oh. Wow, the guy has a lot of time on his hands. lol
You guys gonna grow a set and post?
@Wraithblade6
He is going to hate Kaathe then.
Ohh he already does. Just being a dark elf is like being an undead fiend.
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