Fantasy Knights of the Damned In-Character chat

[Eliasdagood]

Corrina tilts her head, watching the goings on. Curious. The stitched man is a fool. He should not be so disrespectful in his denial, at the very least. Her devil purrs in the back of her mind, still very excited. Finally! The world will be consumed in darkness once again. Kneel, my dear. The power he offers is immense, and you will finally be free.

Corrina smiles, chuckling softly, and goes to one knee, bowing her head. What does she have to lose? Her soul is not even hers anymore. She owes no allegiance to anyone else, she has no agenda other to grow in power, and to be free of the light that torments her. If this King truly can satisfy that agenda, then she will serve him well.

 

[DizjayDeathPride]

After what felt like eternity, Faezell returned to the town. Everyone was hiding in their homes from the demon, half expecting the demon hunter to have been defeated. But to their delight, his whistle could be heard walking the streets. The more brave civilians peeked out of their doors and their jaws dropped. The demon that had been attacking him... he was just dragging it through the street. People cheered and poured out of the houses in masses, praising their savior. Faezell remained modest, downplaying the whole ordeal. Really guys, it was no trouble at all. Tis what I do. Say, where can I get a good drink? I need it. "Right this way!" One of the people replied eagerly. "Anything you want, its on the house! Thank you so much Lucamore!" Ahhh shucks you're too kind. If I didn't kill the bastards who would, right? He dropped the tail and it crashed to the ground with a loud thud. He stretched his arms and followed the bartender back to the tavern.

It took awhile for the party to die down, but finally Faezell was able to get some time alone with his thoughts. Most of the villagers went back home drunk and tired. The last few stragglers were self destructively throwing back more shots, chugging another pint, or pitifully knocked out in one of the booths. Faezell leaned back on his elbows and took another sip of his mead, laughing to himself at the scene two drunk idiots were starting. It didnt take long for the second bartender of the night to throw the ruffians out. And then there were 8. Another sip

"They say drinking alone makes a man go mad." A womanly voice torn Faezell from his thoughts. He looked over to the woman sitting at his right. She was very attractive. The same rope material that tied her dark, velvet hair up was wrapped around each of her arms. Faezell didnt gawk, but he couldnt help but notice her ensemble only covered the upper upper body. His eyes scanned up her figure, back to her eyes. A beautiful woman like you could solve any man's problems. What are you doing here so late, little lady? I hear its dangerous around this parts. He saw the sheath of the katana she had on her side, but anyone could carry a weapon. Not everyone was skilled with one. "Oh, I can handle myself just fine. I heard a wandering hero came to this small town as I was passing through, so I stayed to see it I could meet them in person. I saw you bring in that serpent demon. You're hiding a lot of muscle under that jacket." That sounds less like a compliment and more like a challenge. What's your name?" "You're very intuitive. My names Mulva. Since you saw right through me... I want to test your metal." Just Mulva? Intimidating... Faezell looked down to his beauty resting against the bar on his left. I wouldnt want to hurt someone as pretty as you. "I can handle myself. It's you I'm worried about." Ehhh? Alright, he set the glass on the bar and stood up, leaning backwards to crack his spine. It's your funeral. Excited, the woman followed him outside.

The two found a nice empty field to do battle in. They stood 15 paces away from each other. Faezell had the blade on his shoulders. Mulva had her hand on the hilt of her blade. "Don't go easy on me. I might kill you" Man. You talk more shit than I do. Draw your sword already. She smiled widely back to him. "You cant rush perfection sweetness." Slowly she started to pull the sword out.

The tip of the blade was exposed and instantly she dashed forward. Faezell almost didnt move fast enough to block. The two blades clashed, both struggling to gain the upper hand. I've fought my fair share of speed demons. This is nothing. "I'm just getting warmed up, hun." She swiped his blade upwards and appeared behind him, cutting through his jacket and nicking his back. Faezell spun around, swinging the sword down hard, but she was gone. Then, the blade pierced through his leg. He fell to one knee, using the blade to hold himself up. "Really? You're kind of weak, Lucamore." He chuckled and stood up, the wounds healed. I'm just testing the waters, baby. And right now, the pool is feeling pretty shallow. She laughed and dashed forward, her strike blocked again.

She zipped around, wildly slashing at Faezell, but each strike was deflected while he stood still, not even looking at his attacker. Come on, you're too predictable. He turned his hip into the next block and it knocked Mulva off her feet. While suspended in the air, Faezell kicked her up higher, then brought the blade up over his head, swinging her around and slamming her into the ground. He took a few steps back and waited for her to get up. She laid there for a moment then her body faded away into a mist. I underestimate you. If your clones are that durable. I have a really bad habit of that. "It will be your downfall." I wouldn't place your bets without reading the stats. Come out, or I'll flush you out. "With that Sky Magic of yours?" Guess I have some stalkers. "More than you could know." Enough talk. Come on, let's finish this.

Mulva appeared again out of the darkness. Her blade pointed at Faezell. Rapidly the two clashed blades. Mulva hadn't even used a third of her top speed, but it was still shocking that Faezell could keep up. She noticed, though... the faster she got, there was a slight purple aura flowing around around him. She was curious to see some of that demonic energy she heard about, so she upped her speed to half her max.

Faezell was losing ground now, one in three strikes got past him and tore his clothes. He noticed wasnt striking to kill, she was striking to make him react, as if she were testing him. Under his breath he whispered Hidden Sky Magic: Earthquake. A gust of wind burst from him and traveled down into the ground. It wasn't wind with any matter, so it went unnoticed by Mulva. That was until a few minutes later the ground started to shake. She lost her footing for a fraction of a second, but that was all Faezell needed. With his free hand he knocked the wind out of her gut then leaped and roundhouse kicked her, knocking his heel into her head. She slammed into the ground after Faezell leaped into the air again, this time spiraling down with one leg extended. He slammed his heel into her gut and bounced off, blood spitting out her mouth. The ground around them was reaching level three, so Faezell blew down causing the ground to settle.

Mulva stood up and wiped the blood dripping from her mouth. "That... was a good formation. Try this." At her full speed, Mulva rushed forward and connected her first to his stomach. Before his body registered the pain she threw four jabs into his chest then a right hook to the jaw. The force of the final hit sent Faezell flying, but only for a moment, because Mulva grabbed his foot and spun him around, creating a small tornado. She let go and threw him and the vortex together. Inside, thousands of blades slashed at him, tearing his outfit to shreds. He was trapped for half a minute before the wind faded away and he fell to the ground, thousands of slashes all over his body. His demon blood couldnt heal fast enough. He stood weakly, Tiana never let go through the whole ordeal. He was more tied to that blade than anything else in the world.

Faezell's demonic side was taking over. The purple aura of energy completely visible. His eyes had turned red, but when he looked at Mulva, the demonic power was forcibly suppressed, draining him of whatever stamina he had left. He fell to his knees, trying to use Tiana to support himself.

"If you let out that monster, you might really try to kill me huh?" Faezell could hardly catch his breath, but he wobbily forced himself back to his feet. Mulva walked to him and offered her hand to help him up. "You fought well. But arrogantly. There are many people out there faster, stronger, and smarter than you, Lucamore" He scoffed and put his other free hand on Tiana's hilt, struggling to hold himself up. You're right... sen..sei. But I... cant change who I am. Mulva lowered her hand since Faezell didnt plan to take it. "I'd like to extend an offer to you. Have you heard of The Zynfinite?" Sorry... I gave up cults.. bad reputation. "We're not a cult. We're heroes, like you. Trying to rid the world of evil." Well, as far as missionaries go, you're the most... attractive one I've seen. But sorry. I'm gonna have to... decline. "Hmpt. Figures." She flipped her hair and turned around. "If you change your mind, travel to the northwest. You'll find an island floating in a gulf with a large, beautiful castle on it. Tell them Mulva Lightning sent you." She walked away, disappearing in the darkness.

Faezell laughed at his condition. Beaten by a woman, again. I really gotta stop going easy on them. Since it was clear the fight was over, Faezell fell forward and passed out on the ground, his grip tight on Tiana

 

[HugoVodka]

SHADAMAN LeVORINE

From nowhere, a new pair of clothes appearead on Shadaman and after a moment of surprise about what the Abyss King has just done to him, he started to touch and to look at what seemed to be his clothes. It was an undenial fact that these ones were a perfect imitation of the shirt, pants etc. that he usually wears out of battle and considering that these ones didn't vanish even after touching every single part of them, it was clear that they weren't a sort of illusion.

“Hmmh.....eh..you....”

Unfortunately, the Shadaman who we learnt to know in the first moments after the transportantion wasn't no longer present. This one was substituted by a poor Shadaman afflicted by pure terror. A terror that made him hard even to speak.

The Abyss King noticing that the throne room was so old to be covered completly by the dust, he clapped his hands and instantly all the dust disappeared bringing that place to its old glory. Shadaman was surprised by that spell. It was nothing special but he was surprised more by how much precise it was. But to be fair, he would prefer to see in act bland spells like the ones that the Abyssal King used instead to see something more serious from a being like him.

After that, the King turned around to the group again and asked to kneel and become his servants or refuse and die as everyone who will try to prevent his conquest of this world.

Without even thinking about it, Shadaman keeled instantly. It didn't matter if Shadaman liked him or not, cause he knew that the Abyssal King was very powerful. More than anything that he has ever seen in his entire life. The more logic thing to do for a weak human like him to come out alive from that situation was the complete submission.

“I accep....I accept such honor, my King. It will be a....plea..pleasure to assist you as loyal serv...servant."

While Shadaman was still on the ground praying to give a good impression to the King, the puppet man refused the request with an attitude which was pretty cocky for Shadaman. He didn't know if the puppet man knew how much powerful the king was as he does, but in any case that was a pretty stupid thing to do in front of an entity like that. Surely, he would be killed for his arrogance. At that point, Shadaman was ready to assist to an eventual execution of the puppet man.

AnthonyWrath DizjayDeathPride

 

[The Fluffiest Floof]

Miwato Igasuya

Miwato watched and listened carefully to what the man had to say. Upon receiving the request, he watched different reactions. One of them being pure submission by the human. Though that made sense, cowardess and submissiveness were in the nature of humans, it was normal for them to do that. The other was a rather aggressive reaction from the puppet man. He seemed like a really nice person, first towards Miwato and now towards this person calling themselves Abyssal King. Though the point he made was pretty good. Miwato nodded as the man spoke. "I must agree, since long i don´t bow to a master or king anymore. Though i would be inclined to accept a cooperative partnership to achieve shared goals, example given the extermination of all that is referred to as "good". " Miwato then watched for the reactions of the others.

 

[Javax]

Health: 100%

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• Tags: DizjayDeathPride
  
  Addressed: N/A
  
  Mentioned: Faezell Lucamore
• Status: Healthy | Energized | Buzzed
  
  Location: Matthias Kensington's House ➙ The Drunken Lion
• [Outfit]
  
  Equipment:
  ‣ Shadow Bow
  ‣ One Back Quiver | 24 Arrows
  ‣ Dual Daggers
  ‣ Longsword | Disguised as a Cane
  
  Miscellaneous:
  ‣ Canteen | A Family Crest is Engraved on the Side
  ‣ Hip Flask
  ‣ +Burlap Pouch of Gold Coins
• Notes: Enter Roxii! Here's a post, ya filthy animals.
  
  [Character Sheet]

The city below was silent, save for the boisterous laughter emanating from the tavern a few streets over. No one walked the streets this late at night―or early in the morning, whichever strikes your fancy―for fear of being mugged or enduring a far worse fate. Everyone was still swept away by the wave of slumber that blanketed the city, except for the sedulous farmers on the outskirts of the city that laboriously worked from the first light to the last each day. As the sun's tendrils of light clawed their way up the grayish-blue sky, pushing away the dark blues and blacks of nighttime and snuffing the stars out of the sky, these farmers arose from their dirty mattresses to slave away in the fields they managed. He would curse those who stole his crops from him, underpaying for the food he provided for this miserable city and be unable to do anything about it. He would then turn around and praise whatever gods he worshiped for providing a bountiful harvest and requesting revenge upon the noblemen that stole from him, looking towards that beautiful sunrise that gave his life meaning each and every day.

Atop a particular rich folk's house sat a shadowy individual. They were still as a statue, silent as the dark city below them. They sat perched on the apex of the roof. The light wind ruffled their hood, but no sound came of it. It seemed that they were staring at nothing, but it was obvious that they were very aware of their surroundings. At each little sound―an uproar of rambunctious laughter at the tavern, the creak of a neighbor's bed as they tossed and turned, or the caw of a bird―the silent individual's wolf-like ears swiveled on their head, catching the sounds with expert precision and deducing what may be a threat or not. And the irritable flick of their wolf-like tail betrayed their growing restlessness.

Roxii's brow furrowed. She was facing towards the horizon at which the sun would rise. She missed the colors of the sunrise as a child. The way the dark blues turned into gray then light blues and yellows. It was serenity painted in the world. But what she truly missed most were the sunsets. The embodiment of a raging fire, sunsets intrigued her young mind the most, the way the reds and blues and greens and purples blended together in a flaming rainbow, nighttime arriving to suffocate the day and extinguish the sun. It was her favorite part of the day as a child, and now each day is the same all the time: an endless abyss of darkness.

The Lythari suppressed the reminiscent memories and focused on the task at hand. Matthias Kensington, male, 34 years of age, tax collector, and supposedly allergic to peanuts. He is a divorced man who has two sons, one in the city's barracks and the other living with the mother in a small town some miles away. Roxii had been gathering information on this man for a few days now, learning about his personal life, schedule, weaknesses, his personal guard and their rotations, and the layout of his home. And now, the assassin possessed enough information about the man to be able to easily slip in, do the job, and escape with no problems whatsoever. A shadow in the night, undetectable, unpredictable, and elusive.

The first rays of sunlight finally breached the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city. The wolf-elf felt the small shift in temperature, sunlight warming her partially exposed face. Now was the time. A pulse of dark energy radiated from the assassin, revealing to her the current whereabouts of everyone in the house she sat perched upon. Her target lay in his bed, his heartbeat slow and steady and his chest rising and falling in that way that only a sleeping man could produce. The one guard standing at the door inside his chambers―she had learned his name was Watson, a name as unremarkable as his position―had been gazing expectantly at the horizon through the balcony window, impatient for his shift to end and the next guard to take his post. Unfortunately, the guard to replace him was always late, and Watson knew this. So every day, Watson would leave his post when he was supposed to, leaving the room empty and unguarded for approximately 48 seconds.

When his replacement hadn't arrived on time, like always, Watson simply sighed and turned, carefully opening the door and pushing his way through the two guards posted outside. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." He bid the two guards farewell, leaving the manor to spend his morning doing what he did every day: drinking his self away at the local tavern until he passed out in his own drool and beer. The shadowy assassin began to move. With expert grace, she pushed herself off her perch and caught the edge of the roof, swinging herself down and dropping the few feet down to her target's chamber balcony. She landed with no more than a soft thud and open the windowed doors that separated his home from the outside world. The curtains fluttered open from the wind, but nothing betrayed her position.

The wolf-elf silently stepped towards where the sleeping man lay. The man was fatter up close than she thought. His face was round and chubby, betraying the fact that he ate better than most of the city's population. His mouth was open where drool escaped onto his pillow and obnoxious snores erupted. Roxii's face contorted in a grimace of disgust. Without hesitation, she unsheathed one of her daggers, the hilt cold in her palm. The assassin swiftly pulled the pillow out from underneath the fat man, his head bouncing off his comfy mattress. Alarmed, the man opened his eyes in shock and anger, but that was all he could do before the pillow was smashed over his head and the dagger was plunged into his throat. Matthias began thrashing, reaching for the assassin to throw her off of him. He tried rolling, grasping for her arms to remove the dagger that was still thrust into his neck. With enough adrenaline, he was able to grip her forearm and tried pulling the arm to pull the weapon out, but instead he was dragging the blade across his neck further. His grasp tightened, hoping to inflict enough pain for her to let go, but she refused to relent. It was no use. Finally, the man stopped struggling and lay there, his last breaths labored and gurgled as he finally suffocated in his own blood.

Roxii removed the dagger and flung the blood off the blade, wiping the excess on the man's bed sheets. After sheathing the weapon, she slipped out the balcony doors, closing them behind her, and jumped off the balcony and into the streets below. Before she was even falling, she had called upon her surrounding darkness to cloak her in its safety. She condensed the shadows around her and allowed herself to enter the familiar realm she came to call her home. The Shadow Realm paralleled the earthly world she normally walked, and physics worked slightly different. She could fall, yes, but there was no gravity to pull her to the earth, and thus would not harm her when she hit the ground. So the wolf-elf allowed herself to fall the ground and waited until she was stable before she released the shadows.

With the thrill of an assassination contract completed flawlessly flowing through her veins, the Shadow maneuvered her way through the waking streets with a renewed energy. Many avoided the shadowy rogue for fear of her hand, but they knew that she did not kill for no reason. Unless they had a contract hanging over their head or they provoked her, she was as harmless as a dove. Still, this did not encourage the masses to approach her and make conversation with her. And she was okay with that. She was not a people person, and she didn't want to give the authorities any reason to finally put her behind bars. They had no proof that she was the killer, and she wanted it to stay that way.

It didn't take long for the wolf-elf to arrive at her destination. The rowdy crowd of The Drunken Lion grew louder with each passing step. It seemed something... occurred outside of the tavern; a large demonic tail lay some ways away, its dark energy barely noticeable to the Lythari. It had been killed quite a few hours ago, perhaps in the middle of the night. A man lay off the side as well, numerous wounds littering his body as he lay in the dirty street. His chest rose and fell, revealing that he was still alive. It seems that there was quite the battle here, though the opponent was nowhere to be seen. Roxii tilted her head towards the unconscious man, wondering what transpired to injure the man so badly. Perhaps he was a demon hunter, his injuries the result of a deadly battle. She shrugged. It was none of her concern.

The wolf-elf sidestepped the situation and the boisterous men in the tavern, making her way to the bar. She sat in an empty stool and immediately was greeted by the bartender. "It's good to see you again," he greeted, pouring the wolf-elf a shot of whiskey. She simply huffed, her halfhearted attempt at a chuckle. Her fingers gingerly grasped the shot glass and the whiskey was immediately poured down her throat. It burned on its way down, and she reveled in its sweet, savory pain. She set the glass back down and pulled her hip flask out, setting it on the counter as well. Rhys lifted an eyebrow at her. "You're out already?"

Roxii leaned against the bar. "It's been a long week." Her voice was smooth and soft, a direct contrast against the other inhabitants of the tavern.

Rhys chuckled. "It's always a long week for you." After he had refilled her shot glass and her flask, he reached below the counter and revealed a burlap pouch. He set it on the counter before Roxii, the contents of the bag clinking together. "This was left for you."

The wolf-elf untied the bag and peered inside at the dozens of gold coins that she had earned from her mission. She nodded to herself, confirming that the correct amount was inside. Before putting the pouch away, the Lythari pulled out a few of the gold coins and slid them over to the bartender. "For your trouble, Rhys," she said simply. The man didn't refuse the money and pocketed the coins, patting the pocket for good measure. Rhys left a filled cup of beer before he walked away to tend some other patrons. And so the wolf-elf finished her second shot of whiskey before working on her beer, enjoying her momentary time off.

 

[Radio_Rat66.6]

Moranna idly spun the skull of her cane as she listened to the man speak. She really didn't care for his words, but her attention was caught when he said he was a king. She scoffed softly and started walking back and forth. She watched the people before her start kneeling to this man. She would not kneel. She held too much power to just kneel before this man. She worked too hard to be where she was and she would not go back a century.
"I kneel for no man nor woman. I crave power and power will not come to those weak and unwilling to chase it. To claim it."
She lifted her chin and watched the man as she had before. This man thought himself a god. He was no god in her eyes.
AnthonyWrath​

 

[DizjayDeathPride]

Tagging:
AnthonyWrath

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  Mentioned
  
  Abyssal King
  
  
  Location
  
  Dreadfort
  
  
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  Current Equipment
  
  Spears​
  
  
  
  
  Misc Items
  
  
  
  
  Active Effects
  
  Terror
  
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  Notes
  
  
  
  I just cant abide
  
  
  ​

Abignail had been so paralyzed with fear, she was one of the few that hadn't moved. With people kneeling and refusing, Abignail felt she would be forced to make a choice as well. It seemed the ones with more confidence were quick to establish their dominance. They would work in alliance, not allegiance.

No disrespect, Abyssal. But I do not bow. I am a proud assassin. I serve no one but my blade and the contract I'm assigned. I cant afford to be tied to an organization. One we know so little about. I will not bow either.

 

[DizjayDeathPride]

Health: 100%

• ⊗
• ⊗
• ⊗
• ⊗

• Tags: DizjayDeathPride
  
  Addressed: N/A
  
  Mentioned: Faezell Lucamore
• Status: Healthy | Energized | Buzzed
  
  Location: Matthias Kensington's House ➙ The Drunken Lion
• [Outfit]
  
  Equipment:
  ‣ Shadow Bow
  ‣ One Back Quiver | 24 Arrows
  ‣ Dual Daggers
  ‣ Longsword | Disguised as a Cane
  
  Miscellaneous:
  ‣ Canteen | A Family Crest is Engraved on the Side
  ‣ Hip Flask
  ‣ +Burlap Pouch of Gold Coins
• Notes: Enter Roxii! Here's a post, ya filthy animals.
  
  [Character Sheet]

The city below was silent, save for the boisterous laughter emanating from the tavern a few streets over. No one walked the streets this late at night―or early in the morning, whichever strikes your fancy―for fear of being mugged or enduring a far worse fate. Everyone was still swept away by the wave of slumber that blanketed the city, except for the sedulous farmers on the outskirts of the city that laboriously worked from the first light to the last each day. As the sun's tendrils of light clawed their way up the grayish-blue sky, pushing away the dark blues and blacks of nighttime and snuffing the stars out of the sky, these farmers arose from their dirty mattresses to slave away in the fields they managed. He would curse those who stole his crops from him, underpaying for the food he provided for this miserable city and be unable to do anything about it. He would then turn around and praise whatever gods he worshiped for providing a bountiful harvest and requesting upon the noblemen that stole from him, looking towards that beautiful sunrise that gave his life meaning each and every day.

Atop a particular rich folk's house sat a shadowy individual. They were still as a statue, silent as the dark city below them. They sat perched on the apex of the roof. The light wind ruffled their hood, but no sound come of it. It seemed that they were staring at nothing, but it was obvious that they were very aware of their surroundings. At each little sound―an uproar of rambunctious laughter at the tavern, the creak of a neighbor's bed as they tossed and turned, or the caw of a bird―the silent individual's wolf-like ears swiveled on their head, catching the sounds with expert precision and deducing what may be a threat or not. And the irritable flick of their wolf-like tail betrayed their growing restlessness.

Roxii's brow furrowed. She was facing towards the horizon at which the sun would rise. She missed the colors of the sunrise as a child. The way the dark blues turned into gray then light blues and yellows. It was serenity painted in the world. But what she truly missed most were the sunsets. The embodiment of a raging fire, sunsets intrigued her young mind the most, the way the reds and blues and greens and purples blended together in a flaming rainbow, nighttime arriving to suffocate the day and extinguish the sun. It was her favorite part of the day as a child, and now each day is the same all the time: an endless abyss of darkness.

The Lythari suppressed the reminiscent memories and focused on the task at hand. Matthias Kensington, male, 34 years of age, tax collector, and supposedly allergic to peanuts. He is a divorced man who has two sons, one in the city's barracks and the other living with the mother in a small town some miles away. Roxii had been gathering information on this man for a few days now, learning about his personal life, schedule, weaknesses, his personal guard and their rotations, and the layout of his home. And now, the assassin possessed enough information about the man to be able to easily slip in, do the job, and escape with no problems whatsoever. A shadow in the night, undetectable, unpredictable, and elusive.

The first rays of sunlight finally breached the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city. The wolf-elf felt the small shift in temperature, sunlight warming her partially exposed face. Now was the time. A pulse of dark energy radiated from the assassin, revealing to her the current whereabouts of everyone in the house she sat perched upon. Her target lay in his bed, his heartbeat slow and steady and his chest rising and falling in that way that only a sleeping man could produce. The one guard standing at the door inside his chambers―she had learned his name was Watson, a name as unremarkable as his position―had been gazing expectantly at the horizon through the balcony window, impatient for his shift to end and the next guard to take his post. Unfortunately, the guard to replace him was always late, and Watson knew this. So every day, Watson would leave his post when he was supposed to, leaving the room empty and unguarded for approximately 48 seconds.

When his replacement hadn't arrived on time, like always, Watson simply sighed and turned, carefully opening the door and pushing his way through the two guards posted outside. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." He bid the two guards farewell, leaving the manor to spend his morning doing what he did every day: drinking his self away at the local tavern until he passed out in his own drool and beer. The shadowy assassin began to move. With expert grace, she pushed herself off her perch and caught the edge of the roof, swinging herself down and dropping the few feet down to her target's chamber balcony. She landed with no more than a soft thud and open the windowed doors that separated his home from the outside world. The curtains fluttered open from the wind, but nothing betrayed her position.

The wolf-elf silently stepped towards where the sleeping man lay. The man was fatter up close than she thought. His face was round and chubby, betraying the fact that he ate better than most of the city's population. His mouth was open where drool escaped onto his pillow and obnoxious snores erupted. Roxii's face contorted in a grimace of disgust. Without hesitation, she unsheathed one of her daggers, the hilt cold in her palm. The assassin swiftly pulled the pillow out from underneath the fat man, his head bouncing off his comfy mattress. Alarmed, the man opened his eyes in shock and anger, but that was all he could do before the pillow was smashed over his head and the dagger was plunged into his throat. Matthias began thrashing, reaching for the assassin to throw her off of him. He tried rolling, grasping for her arms to remove the dagger that was still thrust into his neck. With enough adrenaline, he was able to grip her forearm and tried pulling the arm to pull the weapon out, but instead he was dragging the blade across his neck further. His grasp tightened, hoping to inflict enough pain for her to let go, but she refused to relent. It was no use. Finally, the man stopped struggling and lay there, his last breaths labored and gurgled as he finally suffocated in his own blood.

Roxii removed the dagger and flung the blood off the blade, wiping the excess on the man's bed sheets. After sheathing the weapon, she slipped out the balcony doors, closing them behind her, and jumped off the balcony and into the streets below. Before she was even falling, she had called upon her surrounding darkness to cloak her in its safety. She condensed the shadows around her and allowed herself to enter the familiar realm she came to call her home. The Shadow Realm paralleled the earthly world she normally walked, and physics worked slightly different. She could fall, yes, but there was no gravity to pull her to the earth, and thus would not harm her when she hit the ground. So the wolf-elf allowed herself to fall the ground and waited until she was stable before she released the shadows.

With the thrill of an assassination contract completed flawlessly flowing through her veins, the Shadow maneuvered her way through the waking streets with a renewed energy. Many avoided the shadowy rogue for fear of her hand, but they knew that she did not kill for no reason. Unless they had a contract hanging over their head or they provoked her, she was as harmless as a dove. Still, this did not encourage the masses to approach her and make conversation with her. And she was okay with that. She was not a people person, and she didn't want to give the authorities any reason to finally put her behind bars. They had no proof that she was the killer, and she wanted it to stay that way.

It didn't take long for the wolf-elf to arrive at her destination. The rowdy crowd of The Drunken Lion grew louder with each passing step. It seemed something... occurred outside of the tavern; a large demonic tail lay some ways away, its dark energy barely noticeable to the Lythari. It had been killed quite a few hours ago, perhaps in the middle of the night. A man lay off the side as well, numerous wounds littering his body as he lay in the dirty street. His chest rose and fell, revealing that he was still alive. It seems that there was quite the battle here, though the opponent was nowhere to be seen. Roxii tilted her head towards the unconscious man, wondering what transpired to injure the man so badly. Perhaps he was a demon hunter, his injuries the result of a deadly battle. She shrugged. It was none of her concern.

The wolf-elf sidestepped the situation and the boisterous men in the tavern, making her way to the bar. She sat in an empty stool and immediately was greeted by the bartender. "It's good to see you again," he greeted, pouring the wolf-elf a shot of whiskey. She simply huffed, her halfhearted attempt at a chuckle. Her fingers gingerly grasped the shot glass and the whiskey was immediately poured down her throat. It burned on its way down, and she reveled in its sweet, savory pain. She set the glass back down and pulled her hip flask out, setting it on the counter as well. Rhys lifted an eyebrow at her. "You're out already?"

Roxii leaned against the bar. "It's been a long week." Her voice was smooth and soft, a direct contrast against the other inhabitants of the tavern.

Rhys chuckled. "It's always a long week for you." After he had refilled her shot glass and her flask, he reached below the counter and revealed a burlap pouch. He set it on the counter before Roxii, the contents of the bag clinking together. "This was left for you."

The wolf-elf untied the bag and peered inside at the dozens of gold coins that she had earned from her mission. She nodded to herself, confirming that the correct amount was inside. Before putting the pouch away, the Lythari pulled out a few of the gold coins and slid them over to the bartender. "For your trouble, Rhys," she said simply. The man didn't refuse the money and pocketed the coins, patting the pocket for good measure. Rhys left a filled cup of beer before he walked away to tend some other patrons. And so the wolf-elf finished her second shot of whiskey before working on her beer, enjoying her momentary time off.

Faezell was able to get a long rest, undisturbed. When the sun started to burn his face he groggily woke up. To his delight, Tiana was still with him. His outfit was completely ruined. He would have to go back to the Order and explain how he was humiliated in battle by a woman hardly trying. Heh... how embarrassing Lucamore. The tarnished jacket loosely blew in the wind as he stood up and cracked his back. Sleeping in the dirt wasnt the most comfortable, afterall. He noticed he still had a few scratches that hadn't healed yet. She really devastated his regeneration.

Survival called for celebration in this world, so he made his way to the tavern. There was hardly anyone here this early in the morning. The way Faezell likes it. There was a hooded, shadowy looking figure at the bar. Note to self: Dont start a fight. There were plenty of empty seats, but Faezell picked the one that was one bench over from the stranger. The chanced he, or she, knew about Mulva was slim to none. But he wouldnt find her without asking. He wanted another round. Without asking, the tender filled a glass and placed it in front of Faezell. He took a drink and exhaled loud and annoyingly.

AHHHHH!!!! That's some GOOOD mead, man! You really stuck your foot in this cup!

One outburst wouldnt be enough, he was sure. He would try something less subtle. I heard theres a band of vigilantes running around gathering members. Know anything about that? His question wasnt directed at anyone, just to see if he could inspire the stranger to say more

 

[Shagranoz]

"I agree with my fellows, here," Phagora said as she rested her wings on a ledge. "No demon bows to another willingly. I will gladly help you, since our interests both seem to lie in bathing the world in eternal darkness, but after that, there may well come a reckoning. We'll see." She wasn't confident in her ability to actually win a fight, but a bluff might well get the King to at least think twice about crossing her.

 

[DizjayDeathPride]

Crisp ocean mixed with the earthy pine, the feel of the cool gentle breeze, isolated peace, and the gleeful chirping of the carefree birds living in the pines always overwhelmed Jezebel with a sense dangerous tranquility in these times. The castle was in the most optimum location, and she appreciated every minute of it. She and Eliah were one of the last pairs to leave. Part of her was worried about the others finding members of her blood and her not being here to interrogate and see if they were under her pack or not. But she put her faith in the group to make their best judgement and do what was necessary. Neither of the two could travel across the water quickly, so they had to take a boat. It crawled across the lake, creeping ever so slowly to the shore. Jezebel sat staring at the castle as it got smaller and smaller until it was completely out of view. About halfway across the water they were out of the visibility field. Now it was as if they had sailed across the entire ocean and would soon finally reach land. Elijah had his umbrella opened, blocking him from the approaching sun. He wasnt a vampire, he wasn't burned by it. But she had come to learn Elijah was just as uncomfortable with the sun as she was. She was never close to him. He was often out, providing backup to whomever needed. Shes never seen him in battle, either, so she was very confused on how their abilities worked together. Considering her own weaknesses; bloodlust, ranged fighters, mental attacks.. he must have had control over himself and others. Or, at least some ranged support. So... where should we go first? I was just wondering the same. Many of our members are still scattered from various missions. We should at least notify who we can. The others must have felt that... evil. Definitely some. But not everyone. We'll go to Gihar and support the north for now. Sounds good to me


H HugoVodka

Mon-Elizabeth and the Commander, Milda Hugovich, were the last two people in the castle. Elizabeth stared out of the window, watching over the group as one by one their little boats crossed the invisibility field. When the last boat crossed, Elizabeth went back to the ground table. Elizabeth had never been face to face with the Commander, only following the orders she gave. She felt honored to be given the responsibility of her partner. She bowed lightly when she reached the table. Everyone has made it out safely, Commander Hugovich. Godspeed to them. The sun is coming up soon. With it, I should be able to sense everyone under its glow. Is there anything I've been wondering, and forgive me for overstepping, but just how experienced are you in battle? I believe we should try to find out where the Knights and Abyssal King reside, then spread our influence to the cities nearest to them. But if we get spotted... we have no idea what we're up against. What do you think we should do?

 

[AnthonyWrath]

The King watched as some had decided to kneel and how others had decided to refuse," I see so this is your decision is it.... " he spoke somewhat softly slouching his head downwards, suddenly The King began to chuckle, which slow turned to laughter growing to a slightly maniacal and joyous laughter," Splendid! Absolutely wonderful! I'm glad to see that my candidates have some feistiness within them." The King bellowed with a slightly gleeful smirk," Your tenacity is admirable, and those who decided to kneel you need not feel discouraged by your decision it was a wise and humble action. " he exclaimed, The king then bowed his head to the candidates, suddenly the air began to feel heavy and those standing could feel it a immense pressure weigh on them. This spiritual pressure was so strong that it forces all those standing to fall on one knee, it was then they all realized this pressure, this heaviness was all coming from The King." Allow me to clarify for you all, I do not see you as my servants. Only young and glorious beings I can guide to eventually stand by me as equals in the cold, dark, and very gentle world we shall create for ourselves." The King emplored standing tall once more, releasing the pressure weighing down the others. " So I'll ask again will you stand with me to conquer and destroy the light, or will you refuse me again? "

DizjayDeathPride The Fluffiest Floof H HugoVodka Eliasdagood Shagranoz Radio_Rat66.6​

 

[DizjayDeathPride]

Tagging:
AnthonyWrath

​

• ♣
• ♠
• ♥

• 
  
  
  
  Mentioned
  
  Abyssal King
  
  Jason's Bored Borheez
  
  Location
  
  Dreadfort
  
  
  ​
• 
  
  
  Current Equipment
  
  Spears​
  
  
  
  
  Misc Items
  
  
  
  
  Active Effects
  
  Sharp stabbing pain
  
  ​
• 
  
  Notes
  
  
  
  I... shouldn't have spoken
  
  
  ​

Tagging:
AnthonyWrath

​

• ♣
• ♦
• ♥

• 
  
  
  
  Mentioned
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Location
  
  Dreadfort
  
  ​
• 
  
  
  
  Current Equipment
  
  N/A
  
  
  Misc Items
  
  
  N/A
  
  Active Effects
  
  Endless Hatred
  
  ​
• 
  
  
  Notes
  
  
  I... will.. show you... suffering... like you couldnt.. believe..
  
  ​

This weight was unlike anything Abignail had been exposed to. The intensity of gravity seemed to be multiplied, squared, and raised to the 4th power after that. Her mind definitely over exaggerated the spiritual pressure, but it only took moments for Abignail to be spammed to her knees. She was forced to bow before the king. Even if it was only temporary, he had proven her point. This being demanded subjugation. An assassin did not belong here. When the pressure subsided, Jason Borheez was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, and chose to leave. Abignail knew it wouldnt be wise to just refuse the offer, again, but if she had to die a coward or with her values...

She stood slowly, pain coursing her body. The spears worked as phenomenal crutches to support her. Limping, she followed Borheez

At first Jason figured that he and the others made the right decision, until the weight of the universe fell on his shoulders. Instantly the threads weaved together and locked his legs, but eventually they began to bend and warp. Jason struggled with all of his might not to fall. His stitches started tearing, but the threads were so tightly woven that none could thrash around. The bindings around his knees eventually gave out and be was forced to collapse. When the pressure subsides, the threads fixed the broken bindings and he was able to stand on his on. His expression was as cold as ever, but his eyes were filled with a burning hatred.

I guess that's that then.

Jason said no more and turned, walking out of the castle. Doing anything now would be a death wish. But at this point Jason and the Weaver agreed: The Abysmal King would die by their hand. Even if it was the last thing they would do. They didn't know how, or where they would find beings strong enough to take him but were also weak enough to be turned into puppets, but he would find them, alone. And he would be back. If the king didn't kill him here before he left, Jason would make sure he regrets the decision.

 

[Radio_Rat66.6]

Moranna smirked upon hearing him say she was feisty. She certainly was and she didn't need to deny it. She was startled when the weight pressed upon her. She gripped her cane tighter, causing her knuckles to turn white, and tried to fight it. She gave in and bent down on one knee. The force with which her knee hit the ground made her wince slightly before her face went back to impassive. She growled under her breath. The nerve of the man! She attempted to stand back up but the weight over her was too much. Her finger itched at the release button on her cane when the weight left her. She immediately straightened back up, smoothing her dress. She thought of her options from then on and found hers with the best outcome. She smiled and looked to the man.
"I will join you at your side."
AnthonyWrath​

 

[Javax]

Health: 100%

• ⊗
• ⊗
• ⊗
• ⊗

• Tags: DizjayDeathPride
  
  Addressed: Faezell Lucamore
  
  Mentioned: N/A
• Status: Healthy | Slightly Buzzed | Aggravated
  
  Location: The Drunken Lion
• [Outfit]
  
  Equipment:
  ‣ Shadow Bow
  ‣ One Back Quiver | 24 Arrows
  ‣ Dual Daggers
  ‣ Longsword | Disguised as a Cane
  
  Miscellaneous:
  ‣ Canteen | A Family Crest is Engraved on the Side
  ‣ Hip Flask
  ‣ Burlap Pouch of Gold Coins
• Notes: N/A
  
  [Character Sheet]

The tavern's patrons began leaving one by one, leaving those who had nothing to work for at the dirty building to drown in their sorrows. The bartender never came back over to start another conversation; he knew that the assassin was not the conversational type. Instead, he worked on keeping his customers happy, hoping that another brawl wouldn't start in his establishment and he'd have to ban some low-life—albeit paying—heathens. So the elf hybrid was able to relax on the bar stool and finish off her alcoholic beverage without the stress of some mercenary coming for her bounty or some guards looking to put her behind bars. Or worse.

Her face twitched slightly at the memories. The constant heat, surrounded by sweaty bodies, the constant lack of nourishment, wondering when your time would come. Fearing for your life each and every day and forgetting what the sun looked like—felt like. Instead, the heat of the furnaces and torches was the only warmth provided through the cold winter nights. The diseases and illnesses running rampant among the prisoners, simple colds and flus and headaches turning into serious ailments that led to death. Mangled bodies were no surprise anymore, as the unexpected cave-ins were common and "accidents" occurred on a day-to-day basis. If hell existed, she wondered if it were any worse than the endless days she endured at Sanguine Isle. She doubted it.

The door to the tavern opened again, but this time no one was leaving. Instead, the footsteps grew slightly louder, announcing the arrival of a customer. An ear swiveled towards the entrance, listening to the arrival of the stranger. Judging by the slight hobble in their step and the copper-tasting smell of blood on their person, the stranger had been injured. The Lythari sent out a low-energy pulse and revealed the stranger that was unconscious outside not long ago. It seemed he had finally regained consciousness enough to drag himself into the tavern and get a drink. She also noticed that he was less injured than he was when she had first seen him. Wounds like that didn't heal in just a few hours. Judging by the oddly dark and fiery energy coming off of him, she could only deduce that this man was of some demonic origin. A demonic demon hunter. How ironic.

The male made his way over to the bar and, much to the wolf-elf's dismay, chose a seat closer to her than she'd liked. A deliberate choice, she realized, as there were plenty of open seats throughout the tavern. She was in one of the farthest seats from the entrance, so unless this man wanted to get as close to the seat she was in as possible to make up for not getting his "choice seat", this stranger was intrigued by the shadowy assassin and was bound to attempt a conversation with her. An exasperated sigh was all that escaped Roxii as she began to ignore the stranger on a stronger level, mentally preparing herself for the new contract that Rhys had subtly left underneath her beer mug.

An exaggerated exhalation left the stranger's lips after his first gulp was downed. A desperate attempt to gain her attention, if he hadn't already. If her eyes still functioned, Roxii would be rolling her eyes so hard, they'd be rolling around her head or snapping out of their sockets. The bartender realized the tension rising between the assassin and this man, noting that his two favorite patrons had never had the decency of meeting before. So when the stranger popped the obnoxious question to get her to say more on the subject, Rhys interrupted before the Shadow could snap. "I've heard some rumors from some of my other customers—the Infinite or what have ya—but not much else." He turned his attention towards the rogue, and Roxii strangled the friendly man in her imagination. "What about you? Have you heard anything about them?"

Roxii allowed a moment for her to collect her composure, refraining from carrying out the desires of her imagination. "No," she answered firmly. The one word alone was enough to make the bartender take an involuntary step back, knowing that he had crossed a line, but he knew that the assassin wouldn't dare lay a finger on the man without reason. For he was just the bartender, after all.

 

[The Fluffiest Floof]

Miwato Igasuya

Miwato rose again after he was forcefully pushed to one knee. Of course he could activate the barrier to have the pressure not hit him, but that wouldn´t be wise. It would be far better to have the king think he was in a position of power over the corrupted. Raising again, Miwato shrugged. "I suppose we will find out what will be the result of this alliance.", he commented before putting a hand to his chin. "Depending on how useful the others are, this might actually achieve a lot." With that, he looked at those that had stayed. He would make the most of these people. Though if they, including the king, started to be in the way of his goal, he would dispose of them.

 

[Yaboymiller]

Bethethel Sunbreaker


​

location: tavern

walking through the streets, Bethethel held a map in his hand and an ogre head strapped to his side. "If i'm correct the tavern should be somewhere around here." He said to himself as he looked around at the different buildings. "Man I really hope I'm not lost." And as if on queue rain slowly started to por, the clouds above turning the sky intov a dark gray. "Crap, crap ,crap." Bethethel said as he ran to what looked to be a nearby tavern. Bethethel shut the door of the tavern behind as quick as he could, completely soaked from the rain. "Well would you look at that, seems I found the right place." Bethethel said as his tail wagged happily for knowing he wasn't lost. "Excuse me bartender, I believe I have cleared the bounty." Bethethel said as he layed the ogre head on the counter along with the bounty poster. The bartender inspected the ogre head before confirming it was the right one. reaching under the table he grabbed a pouch full of coins and had set it on the counter next to Bethethel. Bethethel looked around the place seeing at how empty it was except for two others. "Is it always this empty in taverns. I expected a lot more people." He asked no one in particular.

mentions: Javax , DizjayDeathPride

 

[Shagranoz]

Phagora nodded with smug satisfaction as the more rebellious members of their little team of evil were smacked down like flies. Sure, it was one thing to beat a villain, but to crush them so thoroughly that they admitted it? This King could help her achieve her own goals, she was sure of it. "Very well. I assume you have a plan for obtaining dominion over the world, King? Or are we simply winging it?"

 

[DizjayDeathPride]

Javax Yaboymiller

Geez... the temper on this one, eh? Faezell figured it wouldn't be best to press future with the stranger. So they're real... Hmm. His thoughts went back to Mulva The Lightning. The unnatural speed that she possessed... it was unlike anything he had faced before. He's fought a number of speedsters, but she takes the cake. He thought about how... heavy she felt when he punched her up. How her belt must have been shielding her gut when he slammed her down. And how she invigorated him.

The mug was emptied as someone came bursting into the tavern, soaking from a storm that must have just washed by. The bartender finished his glasses and retrieved a small sack of gold. A fair exchanged for the head of an ogre. He might possibly know more about these Zynfinite and why they wanted him, a demonic demon hunter.

No, He replied, But I think there's a sickness floating around. Getting the tongue swollen.
He finished the mug quickly and slid it closer to the bartenders half of the table before standing and approaching the new face
So you're a hunter, eh? What's your specialty? Deformed monstrosities? I rid the world of demons. I'm looking for the band of goody two shoes known as Infinite or Zynfinite or something. Any rumors, friend?

 

[Yaboymiller]

DizjayDeathPride Javax

Bethethel Sunbreaker

​

Bethethel's ears perked up as he heard Faezell's footsteps approach him. "So you're a hunter, eh? What's your specialty?" Bethethel looked at the brownskinned man as he looked back to the drink he ordered. "Not even gonna ask for my name huh?" Bethethel said jokingly. "I consider myself more of an adventurer, that kills evil."
"I rid the world of demons. I'm looking for the band of goody two shoes known as Infinite or Zynfinite or something. Any rumors, friend?" Bethethel gave him an odd look. Why would he look for people who were good ? Unless he was evil himself. But Bethethel knew better than to react off of thought alone. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. " He took a sip of his drink. "Why does it matter to you?"

 

[AnthonyWrath]

The King watched as two of the candidates walked out, he showed near no emotion towards it for if they could not accept his authority now, what would make them change their minds later on. " Such a pity to see such fine potential reject me, but no matter." The king turned his attention to the rest of the candidates who were wise enough to show respect," I am pleased to see the rest of you have some semblance of intellect, and yes I do have a plan though much has changed since I've been absent I will need to learn more about this world, and i ask you to forgive for some of my harshness for now. Being trapped in an endless abyss for eons will do that to even the best of us." the King apologized moving closer to them and bowing slightly. "Now I wish to bestow a gift to all of you, for not only freeing me but also choosing to be on the winning side of this war to come. " But just as he was going to present their reward the pool of black water started to rumble and ripple crazily, nearly as much as when The King emerged.

Suddenly an arm, stitched and mostly purple wrinkled flesh burst through the surface of the water and grabbed the edge of the pool facing the King and the others, " My what do we have here?! " The King said with a surprised but intrigued look. Soon a second arm broke through the surface followed by the rest of the boy, he had the same stitching and purple skin on his chest and most of his face. Finally pulling himself out of the pool, nude and shaken the boy coughed up the black water that filled his lungs. The King raised and eyebrow," And I thought the human was bad. " he said under his breathe before moving to the boy, " Welcome to the new world my child, what is your name?" asking curious for his response, the boy looked to the King and swiftly jumped away before charging back furiously his hands engulfed in a seemingly viscous black and white fire. The King surprised by such a barbarous action he was taken a back for a moment, he quickly released the same pressure he used on the others and sent the boy crashing to the floor. Though forced to the boy still attempted to crawl through the pressure in a fit of rage, this intrigued the king but he increased the pressure enough to knock out the boy. "Well now that was quite a shock don't you think." he said with a slightly gleeful smirk. "Ladies and gentlemen I think we may have a new candidate."

DizjayDeathPride The Fluffiest Floof Shagranoz Eliasdagood H HugoVodka Radio_Rat66.6

 

[DizjayDeathPride]

Yaboymiller Javax

Faezell chuckled at the question. I try to save introductions for people that seem interested in knowing more. I asked, to be blunt, because a member attempted to recruit me. She handed me my ass on a silver platter after I talked some major shit, and I kind of want to balance the score. I don't like losing. As an adventurer you can understand. One second slower after stealing the crystal skull and you'll find yourself trapped in a tomb for eternity, huh? I appreciate the help in ridding the world of evil. You like adventure, of course... I'm looking for the Zynfinite. I heard they could be somewhere north. Since they're also trying to rid the world of evil... you up for the adventure? You can join too, silent treatment. I'm sure there will be plenty to kill, and loot, along the way

 

[DizjayDeathPride]

Jason and the limping Abignail reached the last step of the kingdom before looking back. Such a shame... we would have been better as allies than enemies. Don't.... Jason looked to her, irritability all over his face. Obviously she was too weak for the weaver to take over if she was injured so easily. And now she somehow felt... paired with Jason. If he didn't value his extended life...

The two walked in silence, or however long the silence would last between Abignail's constant winces of pain. What's your name? You didn't say it back there. Who are you? Oh... Abignail. Feinheart. What got you caught up in all of this? I was an assassin. Well, I still am. I haven't taken a contract in some time. I guess my dark deeds got me noticed by this dark power. Apparently. The two went back to walking in silence. They intended to go to the nearest town and part ways. It wasn't verbal, but understood. Neither expected the other to follow them wherever it is they lived. But they could protect each other while walking. Hours went by, and Abignail's condition was getting better, but she was getting very hungry and very tired. The sounds of her growling stomach made Jason feel unease. He hadn't eaten anything in so long. Well he has, but it wasn't the same. Not how when he was human. We'll stop here. Set up camp. You can make fire, right? I'll hunt. No, I'm fine. Let's just kee- Her stomach growled even louder, causing her to hunch over. The sound of your stomach says otherwise. You haven't eaten in some time. Make fire. He forced her to sit and disappeared in the wilderness. She quickly got back up, and felt light headed. Abignail let one of the spears fall and leaned on one to hold herself up. As quickly as she could, she gathered wood for the fire and sparked it. The small flame soon grew larger and more self sufficient. Not too long after, Jason returned with a dead deer he was dragging by his antlers. His hand was replaced by countless metal threads wrapped around the antlers. Once he returned to camp he threads went back in, his hand coming out of the wrist and... stitched into place.


While traveling, Elijah and Jezebel were stopped by the sight of smoke coming up. It was too small to be a forest fire. Must have been campers. Jezebel sniffed the air deeply. Nooo... I smell the darkness coming from there. Knights. What should we do? Approach. Find out where they're hiding. If they're out here, then the group is already expanding. We should find out where their base is and report back to the Commander.

 

[Yaboymiller]

Bethethel Sunbreaker

​

Bethethel looked at the man excitedly as his ears perked up at the thought of adventuring, although anyone could tell by the look in his eye. " Of course I'm up for it." He replied as he finished his drink, slamming the vu p on the counter. "Glad you said that, it would have been a shame if you were evil, and I'd have to kill you. " Bethethel said with a slight laugh as he slapped the man on the back. "What about you beautiful one? Will you be joining us?"

Javax DizjayDeathPride

 

[Javax]

Health: 100%

• ⊗
• ⊗
• ⊗
• ⊗

• Tags: DizjayDeathPride | Yaboymiller
  
  Addressed: Faezell Lucamore | Bethethel Sunbreaker
  
  Mentioned: N/A
• Status: Healthy | Irritated
  
  Location: The Drunken Lion
• [Outfit]
  
  Equipment:
  ‣ Shadow Bow
  ‣ One Back Quiver | 24 Arrows
  ‣ Dual Daggers
  ‣ Longsword | Disguised as a Cane
  
  Miscellaneous:
  ‣ Canteen | A Family Crest is Engraved on the Side
  ‣ Hip Flask
  ‣ Burlap Pouch of Gold Coins
• Notes: Sorry for the wait!
  
  [Character Sheet]

"Geez... The temper on this one, eh?" The wolf-elf didn't bother continuing the conversation; she knew that she was a hardass, and she felt no remorse or guilt for how she treated others. Life was never handed to her on a silver platter, nor were the people a considerate lot. In fact, the assassin always had to take hold of the necessities with an iron grip, sometimes forcing it out of the hands of those around her just to survive. The world was a cruel place, and she had no room for the consideration of other people's feelings.

The hybrid's uninjured ear swiveled towards the entrance of the tavern as it was thrown open and slammed closed. The steady patter of rain hitting the door betrayed the new patron's eagerness to get inside. She found it odd that it was storming now; she didn't recall the falling pressure that normally betrays the oncoming arrival of a storm. Perhaps the alcohol was already beginning to affect the rogue's senses. It was possible; she couldn't deny that she was rather small, resulting in her being quite the lightweight. Unfortunate for her, due to her love for alcohol.

The new stranger―one that she noted also possessed some animalistic hybrid qualities―made his way to the bar, brandishing the ugly, decapitated head of an ogre for the bartender to inspect. Another bounty hunter, the wolf-elf realized. This city housed many more hunters than she expected. She supposed it was a pursued line of work; the concept of picking and choosing your own missions and completing them your own way, getting paid as long as the bounty was completed. Mercenaries were a little different, being hired directly by their buyers. The money was good, yes, but picking and choosing your own battles wasn't exactly a benefit. But she bet that not many found the appeal in being an assassin like she. The thrill of stalking your prey, memorizing their routines, and killing them like a shadow in the night. The best part was the fact that her face nor her name could ever be plastered on the bounty wall, for no one knew who "The Shadow" really was. The secrecy was what enticed the Lythari the most.

After the hybrid stranger made his way over to strike up a conversation with the other bounty hunter, the topic of the odd group was brought up again. The wolf-elf had heard of the Zynfinite. A group of supposed good people that only sought the best for the world, whatever that meant. Their hold on the world was subtle, a ghostly hand keeping an eye on the evils of the world. She had run into their people a couple times as they attempted to sabotage her assassinations. Roxii found their influence a bit irritating, especially since they were beginning to meddle in her line of work. It seemed that her killings weren't exactly the most sinless missions, and if it angered these "goody two-shoes", as the male referred them to, then she didn't plan on stopped any time soon.

"You can join too, silent treatment." The Lythari tuned back into their conversation, barely catching the invitation to an adventure. Roxii opened her mouth to snap again but stopped herself. Her fingers ran over the slip of paper in her fingers, her thumb tracing the lines of ink that spelled out a particular name of a Zynfinite member. She didn't want to get caught up in their web again, but the pay...

"Will you be joining us?"

Roxii allowed herself a moment to contemplate before letting out an exasperated sigh. She stood up suddenly and chugged the rest of her beer before setting the mug down with enough coin to pay for her visit. The assassin turned towards the two―though useless for the blind Lythari―, revealing the blindfold that covered her eyes. With a specific grace and swagger, the Shadow made her way to the exit, calling behind her, "That woman already has a head start on us if we're to track her down, so if we're going, we better leave now." Roxii stopped before the door, waiting to see if the two men were going to get off their asses.

 

[Eliasdagood]

Corrina smirks, pleased that she chose the right side. This King is more powerful than any creature she’s encountered, and offers her some of that power. The new arrival catches her attention, and she grins, resonating with the raw, bestial aggression she shows. What can she say? The spawn of a vampire was hardly going to be stable.

She licks her lips, waiting to see what will happen, and what kind of new and interesting creature just emerged from the void.