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Unread 07-07-2004, 04:37 PM   #1
Ll!H
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Default Miomir RP: The Missing Eyes

((finally, the moment for which you've all been waiting, the Miomir RP is starting. i and chibiyin apologize for the lack of a map, but you guys can just invent for now the names of towns, and maybe they'll show up on the map! check out the reference thread for area descriptions and information about this particular RP. make sure to keep OOC to a minimum and your posts in para form please, and have fun.))

The clerk was sweating and shaking, his nervousness blatantly exposed to the amused guards outside the double doors. The grand hall was dimly lit and, besides the three humans, empty. The engravings on the doors were in some arcane, menacing language and probably, the frightened clerk surmised, told tales of deceit and death. With a gulp, he placed his empty left hand on the handle and clutched the letter his right hand held to his convulsing chest. The door, surprisingly light, inched open silently. "M-m-m-mister Shilanthrus, sir?" he said in a pittifully shaky voice. Something in the dark room stirred, and the clerk thought he saw a flash of red. He leaned his head inches more into the room, keeping his body safe behind the massive door. It was then that he heard a voice in his head. It seemed to come from all around him at first, but then he was somehow sure that the speaker was in front of him, in the room. "You have a message?" the voice said. The clerk could only nod. "Have you read it?" Sweat flew from the clerk's forehead as he shook it side to side. "Good. Now release it." The clerk did not at first understand the command, not knowing why the voice would have him drop the note. He was given only a moment to question, however, before there was a sharp pain in his right temple and he had no choice but to drop the note and clutch his aching skull. As his eyes were shut in pain, he did not see the piece of crumpled paper levitate for an instant before darting across the room into the darkness. "Go," the voice spoke as the pain eased from the clerk's head. This time, he did not hesitate, but rather turned and made a clumsy scramble for the exit. The note was from an informant Shilanthrus had hired in a small village in the mountains north of Brithrol. It stated that there was a disturbance in the temple there, and the monks, who had not left the building for countless generations, began overtaking the village, interrogating and arresting the inhabitants. "That makes two, now," Shilanthrus said to himself. Afterward, the clerk, who was just reaching the sunlight, heard menacing laughter following him as he ran down the marble steps into the crowded city of Nevir.
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Unread 07-07-2004, 06:14 PM   #2
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Kal was sitting at a table, in one of the better bars. His feet were up on the table, and he was reclining slightly. Almost sub-consciously, he wanted to bust his wings out to fully relax. However, he decided against it. Few people liked to accept that this strange man who just seemed so frightening could actually be a Seraphim. In fact, unless they saw the wings from the beginning, few people liked to know that someone was a seraphim or an angel. Maybe it was a sign of respect. Maybe it was a sign of fear.

Kal had given up on that question at least a hundred years ago. On the table, in front of his feet, was his massive sword. His daggers were still on his person, and they almost never came off. Sitting across from him was a rat of a man. He always glanced around frantically, and suddenly said in a painfully high pitched voice, "So, can you protect me? Can you?"

The bartender, who was on the other side of the room, called out, "Protect you from what honey?" Kal did his best not to be disconcerted by the fact that the bartender was a man. It didn't work very well.

The man across from Kal squeaked, and started sweating even more profusely. Kal looked kind of disgusted. Almost with boredom, Kal removed his feet from the table and got into a normal sitting position. "Listen. I do not help people who refuse to help themselves. Stop being so squeamish and stick up for yourself."

He picked up his sword and turned to leave. The man screamed, and dove. Kal abscently wondered what small noise had happened now. Instead, someone with a crossbow shot through the window, punching into the table.

Not my problem.

As he turned, he saw someone level his crossbow at Kal. THAT. That was the last mistake the man would make. The bolt streaked out, and pinged off of Kal sword. In return, Kal flipped his sword around and threw it like a javelin, going straight through the shooter. The other shooter dived into the bar, and stabbed the rat-like man in the back.

Then he came for Kal. Why can't people just learn when to take their losses and run? When the man brought his sword to bear, Kal grabbed his wrists, and pulled them up, simontaneously drawing the man closer to him.

Then Kal's kick literally was completely vertical at the end. Hooray for flexibility. The man reeled back, so Kal grabbed him by the throat, then by the ankle, and picked him up. Calmly, he walked over to a table, put his knee under the table, and slammed the man down. If the table hadn't killed him, his spine breaking on Kal's knee definitely did.

Without much concern, Kal walked over, grabbed his sword, and left the bar without a word. And oddly enough, he started singing some song quietly about hell and life switching places.
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Unread 07-08-2004, 01:59 PM   #3
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The sun beat down mercilessly on the desert city of Tobor. There were little places untouched by the blinding light, but she had found one of them. Amaremi, despite the heat, pulled her dark cloak tighter about herself. Soon, she'd be out of this gods-forsaken desert city. Soon, but not right now. Now, she had a job to finish. Her hand lingered unconsciously by her katana, almost itching for the job she knew was going to be done soon. Lifting a dirty scrap of paper, she read over the address again, then squinted into the midday sun--the worst time to be out in the desert--and smiled, pocketing the paper. This would be all too easy.

Moving on silent feet despite the various buckles adorning them, Remi darted across the deserted street into a shadowed doorway. She tried the handle; it was locked. Smiling again through her mask, the small woman produced a few small wires, and slid them into the lock. After a moment or two, she heard a faint "click". Taking that as her cue, she put the wires away and opened the door. The desert people hadn't refined their locks as much as other Mainlanders, this much was obvious. She slipped into the unlit house, and paused after quietly closing the door, listening for any signs of movement. There were none. He must be taking his little siesta like the rest of the town, she mused. Hardly anyone was out in the middle of the day; it was very dangerous if one wasn't extra careful. Desert natives took the time to nap, conserving as much energy as they could while staying indoors, with as little light as possible. Remi didn't like the heat, but the reward for Bluewood was a considerable amount, and she needed money to get out of this desert.

She crept up the wooden stairs and was presented a hallway of several closed doors. Silently, she cursed in her native tongue. Methodically, she peeked into each room as quietly as old creaky wood could muster. Finally, she opened a door upon a frame that outdated the dirty matress on it by quite a few decades. Upon the matress was a lump that she assumed was sleeping, since it was snoring--and doing that rather loudly. Wincing a bit a the smell permeating the entire room, Remi walked closer, not needing to keep quite, as the snores were all but drowning out her footsteps. With a flick of her wrist, a small dagger was in her gloved hand.

"Hemo ky'nenith amari sitat," she spat at him, jerking him out of his sleep slightly. I hate men like you.

He didn't have time to waken fully into consciousness, as Remi's dagger traced the thinnest line over his throat. Blood didn't even appear for a moment, the movement was so fast, but then the skin split and blood poured out of the wound, rendering him speechless. His eyes flew open, fully comprehending, and darted over to his killer. She lifted a glowing blue light in front of his eyes, and he was momentarily blinded.

"Baruun," she said. Good. She put the small crystal away, then produced a painful-looking device that had a metal scoop to it.

Bluewood made a gurgling noise that might have been a scream had his vocal chords not have been severed. Remi's job was a bloody one, but she sure knew what she was doing. A little puff of steam came out of the device as she flipped a switch, and the last thing Bluewood saw were two eyes... a stormy one and a golden one... staring indifferently into his own blue eyes--for which he was partially named. Then there was a searing pain and he saw no more.

Remi pulled the Blinder back from Bluewood's face and looked at the second eye she had taken from the dead man. It was startlingly blue, and hardly bloody; one of the Blinder's functions was to clear off most of the blood from a victim's eyes to preserve them better. This was undisputedly the most disturbing part of her job. To make sure that an assassin did their job and actually killed the person, they had to remove their victim's eyes so that their temporary employer could enlist a special type of mage to use the eyes to look into the soul for identification purposes. Thus, the Blinder was created for easy removal. Before its invention, the process was a lot worse for both the victim--who might not actually be dead by that point, like Bluewood--the assassin, because there was a lot more work into preserving the eyes, and the mage, since the more intact and preserved the eyes were, the easier their job was. She sighed and deposited the eye into a specially made vial along with the other one, then tucked it into a pouch. There's nothing more unsettling than waking up in the middle of the night and seeing two eyes stare at you from vial on your very person.

That job done, and with Bluewood's final post-mortem twitches over, Remi cleaned the Blinder with a spare peice of the late Bluewood's clothing, and left. After she turned his eyes in and got her pay, she'd be out of this gods-forsaken desert.
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"Enjoy,” he said with a completely straight face.
Kalten looked disdainfully at the brownish-grey lump oozing to fill the bowl in his hands.
“I hate you,” he told Ulath. The Thalesian grinned wickedly at him.


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Last edited by chibiyin; 07-08-2004 at 02:07 PM.
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Unread 07-09-2004, 06:08 AM   #4
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Mat was staring into the wardens unblinking face. "Im in trouble" now he thoght. "Went in way over my head and now im going to pay". " At least they didnt find all my daggers". He looked at the pile of daggers beside the warden. "If I kill him Ill be hunted if I run away they will still hunt me I guess Ill have to find another city". "Shame this one was pretty good had everything I would need for a while." "Oh well" he said as he started to remove a dagger. When he finshed he cut the rope and jumped away. "Sorry" he said to the warden. "Gotta go he took a large stick and before the warden could react knocked him out. after placing all his daggers back in their place he left. "I need to run away but first I better get a meal and some sleep it might be the last time in a while.
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Unread 07-12-2004, 10:24 PM   #5
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(( since no one else seems to be posting, even though you were all impatient for it to start, I'll post again, with Hreathin. Because I can, and because no one else is doing anything. Blah. ))

Leather creaked in the dimly lit cavern; it wasn't the sound of thick theather that someone would wear, but the sound of thin leather stretched between bone. Large shadows detatched from the craggy walls to soar to other walls, vanishing into cave mouths, or into the pitch ebon that was the gargantuan cavern's mouth. There was no noise other then that; the caves' inhabitants were mostly asleep, but even if they weren't, nearly all of them weren't bothered by the noise--rather, the lack of it--some even found it comforting. Those that moved in the cavern through the caves were restless, but mostly, it slept.

Ragnar had been quiet the past few months; no wars had broken out with their normalcy--even minor battles were at an all-time minimum. It disturbed the people and creatures living near the Red--or Bloody--Circle, as it was commonly referred to, to see the clear night sky, and not the breath weapons of the dragons, or flashes of scales and steely talons, or the display of magick alighting the skies. It bothered them, and left a very uncomfortable taste in their mouths. Rumours of one who had been able to minimise--if not stop entirely the heated battles of the Beladrierans, the Red Dragons--spread like wildfire. He was ten feet tall and strong as ten Ogres. He had killed thousands of people with a wave of his hand. He could control the dragons with his mind. He was the most ruthless and cunningly cold human to ever walk the face of Miomir. He was gathering an army to destroy the world. He was gathering an army to conquer the world. He would let nothing stop him, and destroy and opposition in his path. He had stolen the Eyes from their temples and was now controlling them. Most of these, of course, weren't true. But everyone knows that the better the rumour is, the more truth there is in it.

***

"Wake up." A solid kick of a boot connected with the sleeping red snout of an unsuspecting dragon. The beast groaned and blinked its great golden eyes open. Hissing, it snapped its teeth at the boot, but only received a kick to the tooth instead.

"Get up, you lazy heap of scales. There's work to be done today. Two new wings just arrived an hour ago, and they need places to stay, food to eat, and training to go to."

Lust raised his eyes to his rider, the dragon knight Hreathin.

It's not even third watch, Lust's voice grumbled in Hreathin's mind.

"It's past third watch; it's nearly sixth. Now peel that hide of yours off the stone, and get it over to the new wings."

Fine, but I'll get you back for this, you lousy human.

"I'm sure. Go."

The Beladrieran stretched a bit, yawning, then spread his wings and took off to the other end of the massive cavern. Hreathin watched him go, not seeing another man walk up to him from where Lust had beena moment prior.

"News, sir," the man said, Hreathin turned to him.

"What news?"

"Another rumour's been started by a self-proclaimed Crimson Flight fanatic," the messenger said.

"Oh?"

"Aye. Now you can breathe fire and fly yourself." A smile quirked up the messenger's mouth.

"I see," Hreathin said. "Just how many are there?"

"Rumours, sir? Probably about a dozen, I'd say." The messenger paused. "Oh, and the fifth wing leader wanted to talk to you. It seems that things from the Barran Lands have been attacking Glegnar Pass."

"I'll see to it, then." The messenger took his cue, gave a curt nod and bow, then turned and left.

When Lust returned, Hreathin saddled him and flew out to Glegnar Pass, landing easily on a jagged outcropping of rocks on the wall. Another, larger red landed next to them. The rider saluted Hreathin.

"Sir," he began briskly. "Manticors and harpies have been camping along the pass and attacking the scouts and pass guards nearly every day. We tried hunting them down and eradicating them, but more just keep coming."

"Try setting up an ambush," Hreathin began, "to lure them out of their holes with more confidence. When most of them are out, send a few riders out to come from behind, so they're trapped in the pass."

"What if mroe come back?"

"Find out where they're coming from," the dragon knight replied simply. Then, with a few pats to Lust's neck, the small red leapt off the outcropping and soared back to the cave they resided in.

That's easier said than done, Lust said, referring to Hreathin's last answer.

The knight shrugged. "They'll figure something out."

They look to you for leadership. The dragon settled down on the cave floor. Hreathin slid off Lust's back, but didn't take the dragonsaddle off.

"I will lead them. I will not think for them."

Isn't that dangerous? Giving them time to think over what they're doing? If someone didn't like you, they might rise against you, Lust pointed out.

"I'm willing to take that risk. Beside, they know that I could defeat whomever would rise against me. It's far better to have an army that can think even if a part is seperated from the whole, than to have an army completely dependent on itself."

Or you, the red added, folding his wings against his sides.

"If I'm killed in battle, I don't want my army just falling apart. That's why I want to be trusted more so than feared, and have them follow willingly. If they don't believe in the cause, they have free will to leave." Hreathin shrugged.

Then why the rumours?

"Those I have no control over."

Perhaps. Lust looked thoughtful for a moment. What is your cause? It's certainly not world destruction, like some of the rumours claim. It's not even world domination, either, is it?

"No, it's not."

After a few moments, it was clear to Lust that Hreathin wasn't going to elaborate.

Then what is?

Hreathin folded his arms over his chest and walked away from Lust. "You don't need to know that right now," the knight replied shortly.

That took Lust by surprise. You won't even tell me?

Hreathin shook his head. "Not yet."

What will you tell your army? Lust asked, albiet indignant.

"The same thing I've been telling them." He swung back up into Lust's saddle after taking a long drink from a canteen and rosing it in a saddlebag. "Time to find some fresh blood," he said. Lust opened his crimson wings, propelling them off the edge of their cave and toward the cavern's gaping mouth.
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"Go on, prove me wrong. Destroy the fabric of the universe. See if I care." -Terry Pratchet

"Enjoy,” he said with a completely straight face.
Kalten looked disdainfully at the brownish-grey lump oozing to fill the bowl in his hands.
“I hate you,” he told Ulath. The Thalesian grinned wickedly at him.


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Unread 07-13-2004, 01:58 PM   #6
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Zin walked slowly into town. His wings draped around him like a cape. He ignored the sideways glances he got from people. He didn't care. He ignored anyone who tried to stand in his way. He didn't care. All he cared about was getting something to drink. He passed a bar drenched in blood with bodies strewn about the place. He still didn't care. "Damn looks like they're closed." He muttered to himself. He finally reached an inn with a tavern in its lobby. This one looked seedy and Zin debated wether or not to keep walking. But he was soon reminded of how thirsty he was and how long it had taken to find this place. He walked inside allowing his eyes to dart around the room. Seeing how many people there were, and how many of them seemed dangerous. He made his way to an empty table and ordered a glass of water. When the waitress sneared at him he gave her a long hard look to show he was serious. He sipped at his drink and observed the on-goings of the tavern.
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Unread 07-13-2004, 08:53 PM   #7
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Alexander streaked across the night sky. The wind rushed past his face as he began to decend down over the top canopy of a forest. He slowed down for a moment to catch his bearings. It should be around here. Where is that hill? The map said that it was -- His train of thought was interupted by a spear slicing across one of the straps of his pouch. The pouch decended into the trees below and was lost to sight. Alexander spun around while still flying to see who his attackers were. A little ways behind him he could see two black shapes approaching him in the air. The shape of wings could also be seen. How did they find me so quickly? I have to take cover. And I need to find where that pouch went off to. He slowed down amongst the trees. Once he landed on the ground he looked back to the general location of where the pouch should have landed, and decided to run off in that direction. Reaching over his head he pulled out his staff and gripped it tightly. He arrived at the spot where it should have landed but wasnt able to find it. Looking back he could make out the two figures searching around. He grabbed onto a branch and pulled himself up into a tree and hid there. He waited until one of the figures walked under the tree where he was hiding. The figure looked up at the sky right by Alexander, red eyes gleaming almost unholy against the wash of the moonlight. Three ... Two ... One, GO Alexander fell from the tree right onto the Dark Angel, knocking him down to the ground. The Angel looked at his attacker with thoes red eyes and got back up to his feet, pulling out another spear and gripping just like Alexander gripped his staff. This is going to have to be fast, there's two of them to deal with. He charged the Dark Angel leaped over to a nearby tree and hit the side of it feet first. He kicked off of the tree and directly at his attacker. The Dark Angel thrust his spear out to meet Alexander. Alexander knocked away the spear and leveled a blow at the holder's head. There was a thud as the Angel fell over unconcious from the blow. As Alexander stood over the body he heard the crackle of a leaf being stepped on behind him. He reached down and grabbed the spear and flung it behind him at the other now airborn Dark Angel landing it square in its chest. The force from the blow threw the angel back agains the tree with the spear holding it in place. Looking directly above him, Alexander noticed the outline of his pouch against the night sky hung in a tree. He flew up and grabbed it and took off into the night sky. There might be more, better stay on guard and find that hill as soon as possible.
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Unread 08-16-2004, 03:35 PM   #8
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She leaned against a stone wall, arms folded loosely under her chest as she watched the mage cast his spell over Bluewood's eyes. The man who had hired her didn't tell her why he wanted Bluewood dead, but no self-respecting assassin would go into any job without the slightest clue as to what was going on. So she took a few days before searching Bluewood out to do a little research on him. She found that the man who had hired her--the name he gaver her was Siness, but she doubted that was his real name--and Bluewood used to own a business together. A carpentry business; Bluewood has been a master woodscraftman of sorts--hence the "wood" in his name. It was the usual end to greedy partnership businesses: Bluewood wanted to do things one way, and Siness another. Bluewood apparently insulted Siness to no end, then fled for his homeland, the desert. Siness was the type of person who took insults very seriously, and very personally. Thus, Remi was hired.

"It is the one named Bluewood," the mage finally said.

"Can I have my money now?" the young woman asked, not moving.

Siness reached for a pouch, glanced in it, then tossed it to Remi, who caught it easily.

"That should be enough," he said in a grating voice.

She tested the weight a bit, then noded once. "You know who to contact next time, Siness." And with that, she turned and left.

"Assassings give me the creeps," the mage said, shuddering a bit.

"I wouldn't think much would give you the creeps, Mar, not with your field of expertise."

"I can hardly stand it," Mar replied. He gathered his robes about him and regarded Siness with a disapproving look. "People like you disgust me," he said, then vanished.

***

Remi counted out the gold and silver that Siness had paid her. It was just enough, she grumbled to herself. No little extra or anything. Snorting a bit, she tied the pouch to her belt and continued through the small town of Sudri. Finally, she could buy her ticket out of this desert. The mountains that cut the desert off from the rest of the continent had only three passes in it: two in the south, and one in the north. The pass in the north was just barely traversable by foot, but the two in the south had to be crossed by air, or by the steam-powered machines that ran periodically up and down the passes. Their journey was painstakingly slow, but at least the mountain scenery was nice to look at. Remi wasn't about to hire a dragon to fly through the pass; that cost more than the cliffriders, and she didn't think she'd do well in the air. The cliffriders cost her enough, and beside, there weren't any dragons-for-hire in the area, anyway. So the cliffriders it was.

Remi counted out the amount of money needed for the cliffrider of Volir Pass, paid the man operating the ticket booth, then hurried on. There were only so many seats, and she didn't feel like standing for the next few hours. She found a window seat that appealed to her, and claimed it, giving dirty looks to people who walked near her and looked as if they'd pose a threat to her seat.

***

Nearly three hours later, Remi gratefully stretched out her limbs in the cliffrider station in upper Lenosia. Thank the gods she got out of that desert. It was nearing the summer season, and no one in their right mind would want to be in the Rhunyc Desert during the summer season. Taking a sip from her canteen, Remi glanced up at the sky, gauged the time, then set off again. She just hoped she could find an inn before nightfall.
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"Go on, prove me wrong. Destroy the fabric of the universe. See if I care." -Terry Pratchet

"Enjoy,” he said with a completely straight face.
Kalten looked disdainfully at the brownish-grey lump oozing to fill the bowl in his hands.
“I hate you,” he told Ulath. The Thalesian grinned wickedly at him.


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Unread 08-17-2004, 04:36 PM   #9
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OOC: let's revive it people!

IC: Kal walked calmly along the street as it rained. It wasn't even a nice rain. It was cold, it hurt when it hit, and it almost guaranteed hail would show up eventually. A few people hastily got out of his way as he passed them. One of the prostitutes on the corner tried to intice him. Without even an acknowledgement of her existance, he walked past.

A little boy ran in front of him, and tripped, crashing and rolling along in front of him. Kal stopped and looked at the small human as it sniffled, but forced itself to stand up. Then he saw the child freeze in terror at the sight of the man standing by him. An equally large man as Kal charged up, except his mass came from fat.

"Damn runt! I'll teach ya' to run from your deserved beating!" Cried the man as he caught up. Kal stepped between them. The man momentarily considered this, and then said politely, "Sir, do ye be minding moving so I can talk to my boy?"

Kal said very slowly, "Is he your son?"

The man looked a bit flustered, and replied quickly, "No. He's a damn bastard boy who's working in me stables."

Kal then said quite calmly, "Then yes. I do mind."

Anger showed on the man's face, and he yelled, "Get out of me way jack-face! The boy's gone and shirked his bloody duties AND BY THE GODS I'LL SEE HIM PUNISHED! NOW MOVE AFORE I HURT YE MORE THEN A HERD OF BULLS FROM HELL COULD!!"

Kal didn't even pause as he punched the man straight in the face, his nose audbily snapping against the force of the blow. With a slosh, the man collapsed into the mud and tried to back himself away from the large man with an equally large sword. Very deliberately, Kal asked, "Ever seen hell? Know how long hell has been around? Do you have any GOD-DAMN CLUE WHAT HELL DOESN'T HAVE A HOLD ON!?"

The man hurriedly shook his head. Kal pulled his sword and let it sit at his side. Frantically the man looked over the blade and hilt. It wasn't a kind looking sword. A dark blue under color was accompanied by an icy silver set of decorations. Most were very gothic. Skulls were a prominent theme. If a claymore had been made bigger, then just pulled wide and made scary, that was the sword Kal held out.

The man wet his trousers as Kal tapped the man on the chest with the blade. "The only thing hell doesn't have is innocence. Do you know where to find the best source of innocence? Children. Now get out of my sight before I castrate you simply for the fun of it."

Panic etched on his face, the man fled. Kal put the sword away and turned to the scrawny child who looked more than slightly afraid. With amazing kindness, Kal crouched so he could look the child in the eyes.

Then quite calmly, Kal said, "You're coming with me. And I'm going to make sure you have a good home." He led the child into the nearest inn, which was slightly shadier then Kal would've liked.

The first thing he noticed was that it was packed. The second was that there was an angel of some sort sitting there, drinking water. At least, Kal assumed it was an angel. Calmly, he walked up to the bartender and said, "Water for me. Best room you have for the kid. And if anything happens to him, I can personally guarantee it will take months to find all the pieces of you."

Kal's reputation implied he would too. After the child was ushered off, he went and dropped into a table and drank. The only thing he could bring himself to care about was children. And kittens. Few knew why kittens, but it didn't matter to him.
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Unread 08-17-2004, 05:15 PM   #10
BassDouken
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Alexander flew through the night sky to his destination, a small hut on the side of a hill. The forest below him ended and more rocky terrain surfaced. Good, that means that I'm close. Looking ahead of him he could see the hut that he was looking for on a rapidly growing hill. He slowed down his pace and landed a few feet from the door. Slowly walking up to the door, he could hear noises comming from the inside of the little hut. Knocking on the door, the noises stopped and a wirey old man opened the door. He was short with whisps of white hait on the sides of his head. Looking up at Alexander's grey wings, he seemed a bit sartled to be face to face with an angel, but that quickly dissapeared.

"What do you want?" he gruffly asked.

"I have come to claim the sword"

"What makes you think you could possibly weild it?"

"I have come into possesion of this." With that, Alexander pulled out a glowing gem from his pouch. Rays of clear blue light shimmered across the faces of both men. The old man eyed it closely, and then looked back up at Alexander.

"That is only one of the two items, you must have the second in order to obtain the sword from me son."

"That is why I have brough this, gem installed, as well." Alexaner then pulled out a sheild with an angel on the crest. The angel appeared to be standing on a similar gem. Instead of the gem glowing, the angel above the gem gave off a slight blue light. "I have all that is reqired, would you be so kind as to let me have the sword?"

The old man blankly looked at the sheild that had been produced, he took it and examined it closely, tracing it out with his long bony finger. After a while he looked back up at Alexander and dissapeared into his makeshift house. As quickly as he dissappeared, he reappeared with a long sheathed sword in his hands. He appeared both relieved and angry that someone had succesfully been able to claim it. Alexander unsheathed it and looked at the hilt. An identical angel's torso was on it with the wings branching out. Right above the angel's head was a socket the size of the gem. Alexander looked back up at the man.

"Thank you sir." But the man had already closed the door behind him. "Oh well." Alexander turned around and began to walk back sword and gem in hand. As he was walking, he placed the gem in the socket and it appeared to fuse into place. The gem lost it's shine, which was transfered to the blade of the sword. "Good, now I have both the sword and the sheild." And with that he took off and headed to a town topped by somewhat stormy looking rainclouds.
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Last edited by BassDouken; 08-17-2004 at 06:59 PM.
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