Darth Vectis

[SIZE=1]Abaddon looked at her carefully, he noticed something different about her. She had this glow to her that seem to beam at him, he had to admit that he kind of enjoyed it. Her attitude toward him was changing, even if it was only bit by bit. As he looked into her face, he started to recall the ride through the horde of angels and demons. He remembered when she put her arms around his waist, and pressed her forehead against his back. He also remembered feeling a warming sensation in his body, it wasn't the usual fire that burned within him. It was something new, and he liked the way it coursed through his veins like his hell fire did. He couldn't help but wonder what the feeling was. But, he would figure that out when he had time to ponder on it. He looked at Omi and told her to turn around, she complied with no hesitation. He straightened himself out and spoke again in his regular tone. [B] "Remove your shirt please." [/B]She turned her head slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye, then lowered the back of her shirt to reveal the wound. Abaddon took one of his hands and placed it right next to the wound, then placed his finger and thumb on the wound. He leaned his head slightly to the said so he could speak to her with himself still slightly in her line of sight. [B] "I'm gonna cartarize it now. Be prepared to scream Omi."[/B] She simply nodded, Abaddon focused his attention on the wound, he snapped his fingers and the slash in her back flared brightly. Searing the wound such in an instant, a scream echoed from Omi's lips as the fire flared and disappeared in moments. She bent forward and started panting, sweat beading on her forehead as the pain started to fade and the scar became clear. Abaddon pulled away one hand, but left the hand that was placed next to the one stay on her skin. The touch of it seem to flare the new fire in him, he concentrated on it. Holding out his free hand, seeing if he could form the new fire into something he could use. He found this fire unbelievably difficult to control, it refused to bend to his will. Just like the magma monster did, but this was different, it was something that had its own conscience about it. It had its own plans, and it wouldn't form into anything. I merely circumvented his attempts, it frustrated him like nothing before. He kept trying as Omi slowly came back to sitting up straight. He refused to give up, and it refused to give in. And with his last attempt, it hit him like a war hammer smashing into someones chest. Was it the emotion Omi had said she felt for Drakken? He shook his head, thinking it couldn't possibly be. He felt nothing but anger and nothingness, but the feeling of nothingness was gone now. It was filled with the new fire. He smiled to himself as he pulled his hand away from Omi's back, she lifted her shirt back over her shoulders. But reached out and grabbed his giant hand, she held it in both of her hands. He saw something in her eyes, something he had never seen before. Before when they would aggravate each other all the time. Always doing something to make the other mad, he grinned to himself as those memories filtered away and the look in her eyes took him again. This look was the beauty Abaddon had missed all those centuries. He remembered the last battle that seemed like yesterday. He remembered why he was laying on the floor, he remembered how he had at least ten hours drilled into his torso. But, that wasn't what killed him, it was a simple twist of a dagger. Right into his gut, it had been torn out of him, cutting him open. His wings had been torn apart from the battle, arrows had gone through the fleshy membrane of it and swords had cut it up at failed attempts at his back side. He remembered had the angel has gotten so close to cut him like that, he was watching Omi. Making sure not only Drakken was safe, but her as well. That had cost him his life in his attempt to make them safe. Omi had been the one to watch him die, who stayed by his side has the blood drained from his body. He regret deeply that Omi had to be the one to see that, that it wasn't Drakken or one of the angels. He hoped deep down that she had gotten to say her last good byes to him when it had happened. He looked back into those eyes of hers, letting them take him in. Even though his eyes seemed empty and devoid of all light, he let them soften as best they could to take in all of Omi. A small smile spread on his face as his mind wondered.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]OOC: Hope thats good for you Knuckles' Girls[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Abaddon was standing amongst burnt and torn apart bodies, blood pooled heavily and was splattered on every tree and rock with in reach. He held his blade tightly in his left hand, he right foot propped up on top of an angel corpse, the angels wing sticking up with pieces and feathers missing. A fire engulfed his feet and slowly worked its way up, burning away the flesh of the human form and revealing his demon form once again. The massive size difference in the forms was quite obvious at the end of the spells disintegration, he spread his wings as they came into view once more and rolled his shoulders. His blade suddenly heating up dramatically, the heat waves coming off wilted the grass below him. Suffocating them of the oxygen and drying up all the water, he heard foot steps approaching and turned his head quickly to see a relief to his empty eyes. Omi was running toward him, he could see a small trail of vegetation following behind her. He turned to her and sheathed his blade, walking from his pile of angel and demon corpses he confronted her. And smiled at her. [B] "Good to see your not dead, I'm sure Drakken is alive and well. He wouldn't be killed by such low level demons or there opposites."[/B] Omi looked past him and saw the pile of charred pieces, then looked back to Abaddon with a grin. [B] "I had come to warn you about the attack, but it seems that you already know." [/B]Abaddons grin grew and he chuckeld a little. [B] "Yes, I know very well. I am dealing with the problem right now, along with the angels. They ran off somewhere on their horses, I let Abigor loose and he has yet to return. Wait one moment."[/B] He looked over her head and stared behind her, he then gathered his breath and whistled loudly, it echoed through the vast forest. They stood in a dead silence for a few moments, until they suddenly heard a noise. He stared off harder, trying to find the source of the noise. A bright flame appeared from the trees, Abigor racing to Abaddon. Abaddon just smiled at the steed coming toward him, its mirage like image making it difficult to keep track of for anyone else. When Abigor skidded to a halt in front of him, he patted the side of its neck and pet its fire mane. He looked passed the horse and could see figures coming through the trees, he sighed as he walked to the side of Abigor and mounted quickly and fluidly. As he relaxed on Abigors back, he looked to Omi, she had her whip tightly gripped in her hand. He held his hand out to her, leaning down toward her. [B] "Come on, hop on. We have some creature to dispose of."[/B] Abaddon remained holding his hand out to her, waiting for her response.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Jackie Estacado [B] Age:[/B] 22 [B]Gender:[/B] Male [B]Nationality:[/B] Hispanic American [B] Race:[/B] Human [B]Powers:[/B] Jackie?s powers are basically the control of darkness, yet, much more then that at the same time. He can control any shadow or any darkness what so ever, thanks to the powers his father passed down to him known as the Darkness. His powers can create simple tentacles that can be any size and be strong enough to flip cars, to making long tendrils that have gapping mouths, bulging yellow eyes and dagger like teeth. To forming sentient beings, that can think and move independently, but still remain under Jackie?s control. Sadly, the power only works in darkness; any form of light will cause his dark creations to disintegrate into nothing. [B] Appearance:[/B] [url=http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b18/Sagethefiend/Darkness4.jpg] [I]Jackie Escatado[/I],[/URL] the man on the left, wearing the suit he always does. [B]Medical Defects:[/B] Jackie?s defect is due to his rather, law breaking life, he isn?t necessarily a psychopath, he just lacks emotions or any sort, sort of being a sociopath but not quite, he just doesn?t feel any remorse for killing anyone. [B]Weapons:[/B] Jackie?s weapons vary often, going from a simple 9mm hand gun to an assault rifle fully loaded, or he just uses his dark powers to do their damage, his guns are also used for shooting out any light source around. [B]Background:[/B] Jackie was born into a unique family from the start, partly because of his family heritage of being part of the Franchetti Family mob and the dark powers that became part of him the moment he was born. His mother was well taken care of because of how well off the mob was and he never got to meet his father, he died the very same moment Jackie was born. Which was extremely unusual, but, did little to affect Jackie?s life at all. The mob really didn?t become part of his life until he was 16, when he became a full fledged member and hitman, and for the next 5 years he did pretty much everything he wanted, living his life outside of the law and to the extreme. But, when he turned 21, his powers were awakened and soon he learned about what he had been given at birth. He had been told about how his powers were passed down from father to son (the father dieing the moment the child is conceived.) This explained many things for him, mostly his father death, and his powers also made his job as a hitman far easier but also attract much unwanted attention towards him or people he protects. Which does cause some series hassle in his life, but, he manages to eliminate any threat that comes his way or threatens the lives of the ones he currently protect.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Abaddon stood in a state of surprise and a little bit of confusion as Omi gripped at his shirt, grasping it tightly. He could hear her sobs, and noticed the growing volume of the sound of them. He quickly recovered from his shock and put his hands on her back, shushing her and trying to get her to calm down. While he tried to comfort her, as gentle as he possibly could, he wondered at what she was feeling. Abaddon understood little of emotions, except for the one that fueled his power to epic levels. And one other feeling, the one he dread every night. The one that would creep from the corners of his mind and take its ghastly grasp. The feeling of nothingness, and empty feeling that snuffed out even the fires that Abaddon ruled. It left him cold and empty, but, he dealt with it. He spoke to Omi, in a rather gentle voice, considering the magnitude his voice could reach.[B] "Its alright Omi, its alright. I know you must have seen something that tore at your heart, this is was happened last time if I remember right. But you have to remember this, we are demons. We don't get the good graces of fate, she is controlled by both sides. And neither side wants us to succeed, or to even live anymore. We cannot give into what the fate has decided. You must fight."[/B] Abaddon could now hear her heavy tears hissing as it seeped through and touched his flesh. He felt the small specks of steam rise and disappear into the air. He sighed as kept his hands on her back, comforting her as best he could. He let her cry, he let her get all her tears out. He knew that she would need to be at full strength if they were gonna win this war, and she couldn't be in this condition if they were to fight effectively. He unfolded his wings and brought them around to cover her, they muffled any noise escaping through the sobs. He shushed her one more time and lifted her off the ground, carrying her away to where he was going to sleep for the night. He stopped before a large tree, staring at its massive size and the branches that hung down all the way to the ground, making a shelter for any who saw it. He pushed one of the branches out of the way and found the branches bare on the inside, and was high enough over the ground that even Abaddon could walk under it. He set Omi down and told her to hold on for a second, she wiped the tears away as best she could while trying to hold her sobs back. He disappeared from the her sight and returned a few moments later with a log and some rocks. He set the log down bythe base of the tree length wise. He then st the rocks down and used one large hand to dig a hole in the ground. He then placed the rocks around the hole, he sat himself down on the log and motioned for Omi to sit next to him. She moved sluggishly and sat next to him, placing herself close to him. He snapped his fingers and a fire ignited in the hole. He grinned a little as the fire burned with no tinder, or wood at all. Just burned with the desire to burn, nothing else, nothing more. He turned his attention from the fire to Omi, she was ready to burst into tears again. He looked at her for a few moments, feeling a little awkward. He was towering over her and he was slouching. And it was a little odd that he was also a blood red color. He looked at his hands, then remembered a fire spell that would work for this kind of situation. He pointed in a direction that was away from him, Omi turned to see what it was through her blurry eyes. He snapped his fingers and fire started form his feet and rapidly spread all the way up to the top of his head. Omi turned back to him and saw something that shocked him. She saw the human sitting next to her, his black clothes with the crimson red snaking its way into every stitch. His bear was gone but he still had a commanding lok, and his eye showed the fire deep with in. Omi was confused, and still teary. Abadodn explained quickly to her. [B] "Its a fire magic thing, burns one skin away to show another, only effective for about eight hours. But, its better then looking like a big red monster. Plus, you can talk to me at eye level like this, instead of looking straight up."[/B] He grinned as put his arm around her and she leaned in to his shoulder and started crying again. He just comforted her while he waited for her to be ready to talk. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Abaddon looked at Drakken, pondering his question as he turned his gaze towards the horizon. His large hands dropped away form the reigns of Abigor, he patted his steeds neck as looked for the right words to explain to Drakken what had happen to them before everything went dark, before they were all engulfed in the raging war between the light and the dark. How a single act done by the Demon Lord was enough to bring down the fury of the side of darkness, while the act done by the Angel Queen was enough to bring the wrath of the side of light. He grinned at what was ahead of them as he started to speak. [B] "The final battle, yes. I remember that quite clearly Drakken. It was amazing to the eyes of demons like us. The blood shed, the gore, the sheer ecstacy of it all just piling the bodies. We were all unstoppable, our powers unmatched by any. We slaughtered many, many angels. It was also a grotesque battle in the eyes of the ones that follow you, and follow the Angel queen."[/B] Drakken looked at Abaddon with an odd expression. [B][COLOR=DarkRed]"That is something I would never expect you to say that about a battle. Never in all the time have we spent together has then every crossed your mind when it comes to incinerating bodies, especially angels."[/COLOR] [/B]Abaddon grinned as a small chuckle escaped from between his lips. He kept his gaze forward, holding himself up right and erect as his face straightened out. [B]"It wasn't the battle that insited such words, it was your single act of treason against Hell's ruler that made it, grotesque for me. Made it sickinig to my very core, but as your loyal bodyguard, and dearest friend, I stood by your side until the end. And it indeed was a glorious end for us all."[/B] Drakken now had an anxious look on his face, he wanted to know what Abaddon had meant by his act of treason. When Abaddon seemed to be day dreaming of that day, he grew slightly impatient and spoke in his commanding voice. [B][COLOR=DarkRed] "What was the act that was considered treason in his eyes, Abaddon?"[/COLOR][/B] Abaddon turned his head to look at him, his empty eyes revealing nothing, but showed everything at the same time. He spoke in a cold voice, the fire seemed to have disappeared entirely, something Abaddon rarely did. [B] "You asked to Angel Queen to marry you."[/B] Drakkens eyes widened as his face showed a look of genuine confusion, and maybe a bit of understanding as well. Abaddon turned away again, Abigor continuing his slow trott. Slowly making a circle to make sure that they would reach the camp after they had finished there conversation. Abaddon focused on the horizon again, as he started to speak again. [B] "The only thing that was more shocking then that, was she accepted. Even though we were in the middle of pitched combat, ready to slaughtered one another with such vigor. I was ready to burn them all. I was pretty sure you were ready to do it yourself when you knocked the Angel Queen from her horse. You were ready to destroy her, and give Hell a chance to finish them once and for all. "[/B] Abaddon paused for a moment, making sure it all was sinking in. He continued his story after Drakken seemed ready to hear more. [B] "But, you suddenly took a knee and asked for her hand in marriage, she accepted. It wasn't too long before we were standing back to back with the Riders of Heaven. It was quite amazing, our weapons drawn, our powers at maximum ability, and our will to fight evern stronger then before. We killed them all, every last demon, every last angel. But, it came at a cost of our own lives. I don't remember our deaths that well, I do remember taking several arrows when your back was turned."[/B] Abaddon lifted one of his large hands and rubbed his chest gingerly with it. [B] "I also remember they were spot on, but certinaly not enough to take me down. But, in the end, we passed on. And now, here we are, ready to fight this war over once more. And this, D'Haraian has quite the knowledge for war, even for being a simple farmer. This will be an interesting war. Very much indeed."[/B] Abaddon saw the camp coming back into sight, he turned Abigor around and whispered in his ear. [B] "We will ride a little longer, let him ask his questions."[/B] Abigor nodded his head quickly. Abaddon stoo up straight again, looking to Drakken. He wanted ot make sure Drakken understood what exactly had happened, to understand why the angels were traveling with us, why they fought on our side, and why Omi acted the way she did around him. He spoke in a friendly voice to Drakken. [B] "Well, Drakken my old friend, anything you care to know that I might have missed? Please don't hesitate."[/B] Abaddon watched him for awhile, waiting patiently for his friends questions, if there were any.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Abaddon yanked the chain back, attempting to pull it as far away from Omi as possible. He growled as the creature continued to fight, having enough life left to try, if poorly, to tear Abaddon from his shoulders. At this point, the creature was easy to counter and took minor tugs of the chain to simple halt its attack. He was still irritated by its reluctancy to simply submit, and the irritation only add on from Bolts comment. He was going to turn that angel into nothing but a pile of ash. He let his anger get the better of him, and viciously yanked the chain. The golem roaring. Abaddon let out a breath of steam as the excesse of energy from the creature continued to filter in. He only needed to maintain his postion and his continuing siphoning of the creature soul for a few more moments, and then he could show the foolish angel what was to come. The loss of power for the creature made it difficult for it to maintain its full form, its body began to fall away from it. Scortching the ground underneath as the chunkcs of magma dripped away, Abaddon felt the creature was on the brink of tumbiling over. He lifted his foot and firmly kicked it into the neck of the beast. It roared as the force from Abaddons kick pushed it forward. It swayed as it tried to maintain its standing postion, Abaddon gave it another swift kick and it roared again as it went forward. No possibly way for it to recover, it went face first into the ground. Abaddon securely holding the reigns, he took its last bit of life just before it smashed into the ground. Scortching hot magma and lava erupted upward as the creature was no more, and Abaddon splashed into it. Standing in the center of it, the lava simply dripping off his body as if it was water. He scopped up a large chunk of the magma and forced it into the shape of spear. Abaddon then summoned up part of his strength, and launched it into the air. He had used just enough strength to make sure he landed near his intended target, or hit him. Either was fine for him, he watched as the spear made of magma, oozing its liquid fire as it moved swiftly through the air. Firmly landing next to Bolt and shaking the earth a little with the heavy impact. Abaddon sighed as he saw it hadn't hit him. He walked out of the pool of lava as Bolt turned to see what had nearly hit him. Abaddon grinned in his sinister way as he saw the expresison on Bolts face. Abaddon crossed his arms as he looked at him. [B] "You shouldn't provoke a demon. Especially one that has a temper like me, the more you poke and prode, the more you will regret what you did."[/B] Abaddon exhaled again, more steam billowing out from the extra energy pent up inside of him. He watched as he could see Bolt ready to use what his element was good for. Abaddon reamined still and contiuned to grin. [B] "Hopfully you remember what lightning starts angel. Every strike of lightning, ignites a fire. So, I would suggest you avoid from doing anything foolish with that power of yours. Unless of course, you want to see how trully awsome the power is of fire is. But, that is your choice."[/B] Abaddon exhaled once more, this time from his nose, the steam seeping out as he had exhaled slowly. He was hungering for a chance to use the extra power, to let it tear across the plains before him and obliterate whatever was in front of it. He waited as Bolt made his decision, Abaddon would enjoy whatever he chose.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Abaddon let his cold stare assess the situation being played before him, this angel of wind. Breeze, had unleashed an attack that was fuel by none other then butterflies. He couldn't help but chuckle at her attempt to destroy this creature, he also noticed the other angel Bolt, attempting to play his role in this pitiful attack. Abaddon's chuckled grew into a deep and robust laughter, clear enough for all of them around him to hear it. He could see the two angels look at him, Drakken did as well. Knowing why he laughed, not in humor, but in his dark intent. Abaddon spoke in his hollow and booming voice. [B] "You think mere butterflies can eat away at a creature made of living fire! Fire does not die, it spreads and destroys everything around it in its attempt to live."[/B] Abaddon summoned a ball of fire into his hand, then squeezed it, forcing it to seep from his hand and form into a new shape. He fed it more fire and more anger as it became more defined, taking a clearer form before finally taking its final shape. Accepting the design Abaddon had forced upon it, it was now a two sided chain. Both sides had wicked and serrated hooks, the tips were barbed. Abaddon gripped the chain tightly in his large hand, he looked to the angels. [B]"Now you will see who you beat fire, how even the wildest forms of it can be tamed by those who know how."[/B] He turned his eyes just enough for Drakken to see them, Drakken eyes fluttered to the chain and the barbed hooks before returning to Abaddons. He nodded his head to him. Abaddon instantly spread his wings wide and to there full length. Flapping them with powerful and quick motions, they lifted him off the ground and into the air. He turned in midair to look at the angels one more time. [B] "Thanks for providing the proper diffusion of his focus, he will be easier to take."[/B] He turned back to the beast and flew quickly at it. All of its focus was on the little insects, he could see it swing at each creature, incinerating each one it touched into nothing but ash. Abaddon grinned as he came from behind the creature, hovering over its shoulders. He gripped an end of the chain in his hands, giving the barbed hook a little slack. He instantly dropped on the creatures shoulders, and raised up both arms. In the next moment, he slammed the barbed hooks into its shoulder. It roared with the intrusion of the painful hooks. Abaddon simply laughted in a evil fashion as he gripped the firey chain as if it were the reigns to a horse. It thrashed violently with an animalistic manor, it was now bent on ripping Abaddon from its back and tearing him apart. Every time a magma arm would reach for him, he would yank on the chain of the opposite side. Sending searing pain through the point of contact and forcing it to retact its arm. It thrashed more violently as Abaddon held on tighter to his reigns. He growled at the magma golem, yanking on both sides of the chain. [B] "Submit to me creature. You cannot fight these chains forever. I hold the power over you Golem, submit to my control!"[/B] The Golem seem to grow more feverent in trying to tear Abaddon away from him, Abaddon kept tugging on the chains. Adding a new means of instilling pain, by sending a wave of fire through the chains. Most would believe this would have no effect on the creature, but the dramatic introduction of a foriegn material into the Golems limited body capacity was very painful indeed. Abaddon contiuned to fight with the creature, spouting at the creature to submit to him. It failed to comply each time, and each time he increased the amount of pain he inflicted on its body. He grunted as his tugging and yanking became more violent and more angry, his face contorted to fit the rage that fueled through him that this creature refused to give into his powers. He then began to do a new method of being the beast down, he began to drain what he could from the creature. Weakning it would prove to make breaking this creature easier, he drained the life from it. Its life was created by fire, and Abaddon controlled the very fires of Hell itself. The creature grew more sluggish, but still fought. Abaddon grunted more. [B] "I will take your soul monster, and then it will be my power to use. You must surrender to my will, or I will take every last ounce of power from you. And your master will hate that I have stolen more of his fire, more of his life. Now, Submit!" [/B]He yanked his reigns violently, twisting and turning them, invoking as much physical pain he could to get it to topple. He contiuned to twist the reigns as he waited for the inevitable loss of this creature.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Abaddon watched as the creatures massive hand slammed down upon Drakken, the black mist squeeziing out from under the giant hand. His rage igniting to another level, unlocking more doors to his power and the fire that he controlled. He knew that he couldn't take control of this creature unless he hit the absolute limit of his power, he wasn't even close to it at the moment. But he knew he could use what power he had to do enough to this creature that would satisfy his anger. He knew all lava creautres made of pure fire or of liquid form like this one, spurted fire from it at times. That was its only weakness. He noticed the first fire spurt and thrashed his hand across the hand with his fingers curled a bit. The part of the creature that Abaddon had focused on, was ripped away from the creature and pulled toward Abaddon as he tossed it away. It roared and wheeled on Abaddon, he tore another piece of the creature off as the fire erupted. Tearing off a large chunk of the creatures arm, he grinned in a cruel fashion as the creature stomped toward him. It towered over Abaddon as he tossed away another chuck of cooled laval material. It raised its gigantic foot and thrusted down on Abaddon, he held up his hand and pressed it against the foot about to smash him down. The instant it touch him, he sucked the fire of the creature into him, taking its fuel and its fury with it. He laughed in triumph as the collected all of its fury in the palm of his hand, and shot it straight up through the creatures body, exiting out through the top of his head. His laughter growing exponentially as he sent a wave of pure rage and fire through the spike. All of the power exploding outward, sending the creauter into little bits flying all over the camp. Setting tents ablaze and melting demons into nothing as they screamed. He stood alone in a crator, smilling and holding himself up in a triumphant manor. He stepped out of the crator and cracked his neck, he looked aroudn to see all the pieces destroying everything around him. He knew it wouldn't last long, the pieces would eventully form back into the creature. There was no way to really eliminate it unless they found some water, but that wasn't his area of power. So, he would just have his fun. He walked through the camp, collecting the pieces and forming them into large spikes and stabbing them deep into the earth. Hoping to delay the creautre just a bit longer.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]The black fire swollwed Daimonas whole, doing simply more then just incinerate his clothing. It burned at his flesh, melting it away as it seemed to try to reveal something a knew to the world. The fire coursing through his veins as it searched quickly and with a deadly purpose, it continued to take away all the parts of him. Everything was burned away as all that stood was a being of pure fire and evil, the fire began to take a new shape. Crafting a new form for its weilder and showing its true abilities as the rider took control. The fire stretched itself out as it began to plump in form, the arms growing thick and larger then ever before. His chest reaching barrel size as it expanded to full width, his head widened as well as elongating,the horns forming as the fire reached out away form his skull. His legs thickened and grew to support the massive form that was the central core of Abbadons body. His toes and fingers all became clawed, the fire forming a tail with a spade end to its full length. His wings sprouting out of his back and soon came to full size, adding to the intimidating look Daimonas remembered seeing. The memories of everything that had ever happened in the life of Abbadon enbeded itself into his mine. The sight of burned corpses and blood filled battle fields litered with the corpses of all that had dare pass him. The fire lifted from his limbs, coating his body in its tainted warmth, it covered his arms and his legs. Wrapping around his waist and dropping a fire sash between his legs. The fire vanished as he saw what was replaced by it, armor that glinted in the way he remembered. He flexed his hands and arms as he felt it tighten and loosen, he felt the mobility once more in his body. Abbadon grinned in a dark and sinister way, the way that all the riders would remember easily. He cracked his neck and started to play with the fire in his hand, letting it float as if water, and leak over the sides of his hand. He grinned as he simple closed his hand and it vanished into nothing, he saw as Omi had changed and thought it was oppurtune moment to use his powers again. He simple snapped his fingers and fire lashed out at her, only cutting her a little, but enough to get him to grin once more. As Omi had been looking herself over, he snatched her whip without her knowing. He chuckled as she noticed he had it, tossing it up and down like a toy. She managed to get it back by trapping his leg with a rose vine, and jumping on top of him. He felt hardly any of her blows to his defined body, grinning as he eventully let it go. He couldn't stand the smell from her, it was intoxicating in too many ways for his liking. The Higher One looked over Abaddon as he let his wings spread out before pulling them back close to his body he bowed at the waist to Abaddon. [B] "Rider Arcane, lord of fire. Abaddon, welcome back."[/B] He grinned again as his empty eyes looked around to the others. He then felt a warming sensation from his hip as he looked down at his blade, he drew it looked at it. He didn't have to look close to see how the heat resonated off of it. The heat wave clear enough for all to see, it looked as if it was about to burst into flames at any moment. Abaddon felt the warmth and power of the blade pass through him. His grinned widened as he heard a whine from a horse. He looked and saw a creature running from the plains, he could see the fire trailing behind it as it raced to him. The creature stopped dead in front of him, he looked at it with recognition and awe as he remembered the creatures name. The creature was a steed, the steed he had ridden into countless battles with, fire coated its tail, hooves and mane of hair down its neck. Liquid fire leaked from its nostrils, eyes and off the tips of its ears. The rest of the steed would have been a redish black color, if it didn't shimmer like the heat on the horizan. It looked as if it was incorporial, unable to be touched by any. Abaddon walked up and patted the mane of hair down its neck, the fire feeling like course hair through his fingers. Anyone else, the fire would have bruned their hand off in an instant. The horse nuzzled him as he patted its nose. The steed was large and needed to be if it was to support Abaddons large body. Abaddon turned away from the horse as he continued to pet its firey mane, looking to Drakken. Bowing his head to him and then looking back up to him. [B] "It is good to be back, it is about time we had this war. I looked forward to contiuning my duty to you and slaughtering any who get in the way."[/B] He pressed his large, metal clad hand to where his heart would have been. All that was there now, was fire and the anger that brought on his most powerful abilities. Drakken nodded his head with smile on his face. Abaddon bowed his head once more as he looked to his steed, patting it on the neck and petting its long face. [B] "Good to see you old friend, its time we cause more trouble and spread the fire again. Are you ready for that Abigor?"[/B] The horse nodded its head furiously, he chuckled as he pet its face again. He could help but smile and chuckle as he thought about all the damage him and Abigor were going to bring on this world, standing by the side of Drakken once more. He relished the idea as he kept his shimmering steed content, feeding it fire from his hand.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Daimonas waited until the last possible moment before drawing his blade with a speed hard to mimic without the talent for sword fighting. He swung the blade in a fluid and relaxed fashion, it sliding effortlessly in his hands as he slashed at one and cleaved one of the gypsies in a diagonal pattern. His entire left side falling away from the rest of his body, his head attached to the dismembered side. He dodged a blow, then dodged another, swiftly moving on the wind. He swung his blade again, removing the mans hand and disarming him. The gypsie fell to the ground on his knees and screamed while he gripped the bleeding stub where his hand was once. Blood pouring from the wound, Daimonas's face was obvious with his heat in battle. The dead face that felt nothing for anyone on the field. That slaughtered all that crossed him, regardless of what they said or did. He removed limbs from all that passed in front of him, all attempting to bring there blades and other weapons down on him. He could feel the fire building in him, he brought a foot up and smashed it into one of the mens chest. Cracking the sternum and leaving them without breath, he then threw his blade through the air. It twisted through the air and removed a mans head easily from his shoulders. The blade then firmly planted itself into a tree. Daimonas let the nature of the rider take hold, he started using his bare hands to destroy the gypsies. Grapping an arm and twsiting behind a mans back and then raising it suddenly, a disgusting pop followed as he screamed. His screamed halted as Daimonas grabbed his neck and then jammed his knee into the mans neck. The snap of his brain stem breaking off clearly heard, discarding the body he snatched the mans blade. He smashed another gypsie in the face with the handle, sending him sprawling to floor. Daimonas stabbed the blade through the mans gut, pinning him to the ground leaving the man to shred his fingers on the sharpened blade trying to escape. A gypsie woman charged him this time, he used his elbow in a fluid motion and smashed it against her face. Smashing her nose in something horrible, he grabbed her neck and squeezed mercilessly. Crushing her windpipe in no time at all and leaving her to die slowly. Daimonas went from his slow walk, to a jog as he saw someone trying to remove his blade from the tree. His jog picked up to a sprint, at the last second Daimonas pushed himself off the ground and brought both his feet up. Smashing both of his boots straight into the mans head. The gypsies head lashed back so hard his neck snapped. Daimonas stood up and yanked his blade from the tree with minimal force. He walked back to the man with the stub for a hand, he stared at it. Weeping to himself as the blood contiuned to flow, he cried in pain and anguish. Daimonas heard none of it as he stood over him. The man looked up at Daimonas, he pleaded for his life, holding up his only hand and the stub in obvious surrender. Daimonas looked at him with a look of death coming to collect his promised soul. His eyes had that horrible pitched black look, a fire burning deep inside of thise bottomless eyes. He spoke in a hollow and horrible tone, one not belonging to him. [B] "D'Haraians give no mercy, we take no surrender."[/B] Daimonas gripped the blade tightly in his right hand as he stared. He felt no remorse, no compassion. He hadn't felt anything since he was betrayed, and that fatefull day with the dream. He knew feeling nothing made him better at what he did, made him that much more effective at cutting throats. He drew back his sword, the two prongs presented and ready to kill this man.[B] "For D'Hara!"[/B] Daimonas yelled out in a battle cry as he slammed the blade with immense power. The blade smashing through the bone and organs easy, passing through this man easily before existing. Penetrating his heart dead on, Daimonas tised the blade so it was no vertical. He brought it up with a might force, slicing open the mans head. Brain matter followed as the blade exited, splashing lightly on Daimonas, along with the blood of the several other victims. The rest of the corpses brain spilled out as it made contact with the dirt. Blood draining from the lifeless corpse as Daimonas let the blood drip from his blade. He turned toward Ashen, walking toward him with the pitch blackness still holding control and giving him his strength. He saw the new person present herself to the group, this one had a giant fan as a weapon. Daimonas was lost in his heat of battle, he altered his course and started walking toward the woman with the fan. He was not three feet away before a spear moved in front of him. He halted as he saw who it belong to, he sheathed his blade and saluted Ashen. Pressing his fist over his heart before moving away, the look of darkness still heavily possessed his eyes as he took his place beside Ashen.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Daimonas started to chuckle, the group of people glancing back at him as his chuckle turned into a roar of laughter. He was gripping his gut as the laughter sufficated him the air around him, he inhaled deeply as he rubbed his face. Still letting out the laughter in small incriments. The woman with the whip spoke, gripping the handle once more as she looked at him with serious distaste. [B] "Whats so funny jackass?"[/B] He rubbed his left eye with his hand and let the last bit of laughter escaped before speaking. [B] "You are. A long with Mr. Serial killer here. Both of you think you are so tough, so powerful. As if you were anything important to me."[/B] He started to chuckle again when he saw Gueno step up to him. The axe laid perfectly across his back as if it was meant for that. Daimonas just grinned as the chuckles escaped in small amounts. He grabbed the hilt of his blade as he noticed Umi was ready to draw her whip again. He looked passed Gueno to speak with Umi. [B] "You think that whip instills terror, you have no idea what terror is."[/B] He drew his blade, the clean and pure ring of his blade leaving its sheath was magestic, but sinister in the fact that it echoed from a blade of pure darkness. The convex shape to it making it seem as if one edged to any with untrained eyes. He grinned as he caught the sun just right and let it glimmer of the blood red edge with the two pronges adding to its effect. [B] "This here, is simply more then a weapon of terror, its a weapon of war. And if you plan to draw that whip again, you better be prepared to use it."[/B] He felt as if this fight between him and this woman was normal, like everybody had there fair share of blows thrown and returned by her. And Gueno standing in front of him, it was a familiar scene to him. He changed his gaze to Gueno, watching as the light glitered of the edges of his weapon. The grin remaing on Daimonas face. [B] "Now you, Gueno Nathruta. You need to consider that you are not the only experience killer here. Also, you need to take notice that I am not someone you can present yourself to and think you will intimidate me. I killed my fair share, family being part of it. And, I get the feeling that the only reason why I don't remove your head from your shoulders is because of Ashen. So, be carful."[/B] He looked passed Gueno once more, seeing the woman gripping her whip tightly now. Her knuckles turning white. Daimonas grin was gone now as he pointed to her with his blade. [B] "That goes for you too, woman. Watch what you say or even Ashen here won't be able to stop me from cutting your tongue out of your pretty little head."[/B] Daimonas was certain Ashen could stop him, he had before in Daimonas' rage back in the village. But, it made for a good threat when need be. He sheathed his blade and took a few steps back, standing besides Ashen with his arms cross and his head held high. He spoke again in a harsh tone. [B] "I am Daimonas Rigas, and I believe we should indeed move this little party along if we are going to avoid anymore problems because of fugitive boy here."[/B] Daimonas purposfully made it degarading, calling him boy instead of man. He kept his eyes hard as he let his fall back down next to his blade, his other hand stroked his chin and slid down his beard as he waited for them to move out.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Daimonas stared at both of these strangers that stood before them, as tif they knew who they were. He felt this unsetteling aura to them, one of light and kindness. It seemed to way down on his very soul, he didn't like the feeling and didn't like how this woman looks seemed more decieving then how she really was. The man that had just bowed before her was an interesting sight as well. He had a blade slung across his back that seemed rather ordinary in appearance, but had a feeling of power behind the plain exterior. He growled to himself as he moved in front of Ashen he was protecting for some odd reason. He drew his blade and placed it next to the mans neck, looking down at the kneeling man, shifting his gaze ever so slighty to the woman then to her servant. [B] "Who are you two? You cannot just walk up and ask us who you are, we don't even understand whats happening here. Stand up warrior." [/B]Daimonas rose his blade as the man rose. Daimonas could see something in his eyes, something hidden and powerful. Like a rage of energy coursing through him, ready to be released in a flash, but with devestating power. Daimonas felt the fire raging from within, the power of his temper taking hold as it showed itself in his eyes. The shift of brown eyes to a pitch black would startle anyone who stared into them. The blade in his hand began to resonate a wave of heat, sizziling the air around the blade. Daimonas didn't like these people at all, just being near them weighted him down, constricted him. He felt as if his soul was trying to catch its breath in an endless sea that refused to let him to the surface. The blood red edge drew closer to the mans neck, then he felt a hand grab his shoulder and his fury had subsided. The blade no longer resonated heat and was now cool to the touch. He turned his head to see Ashen staring at him with eyes of dark power. Daimonas eyes changed insantly, taking back the hard, dark brown look. He sheathed his blade and stepped to the side of Ashen, gesturing with his hand towards the woman, and using his eyes to point at the man. [B] "They are all yours, Ashen."[/B] Daimonas stood idly by as he watch Ashen approch the two strangers with an odd confidence that seemed to fit him perfectly, as if he was a King addressing his people. His commanding presence alone was enough to bring many men to there knees and to serve him loyaly. Diamonas felt liked he need not take a knee, as if just looking at Ashen for the first time cemented his loyalty to this man.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Makhaira looked with eyes of disbelief that had been beat to his own weapon, only his eyes betrayed his shock and fear. He let a little growl out of his throat, he started to think about what this man had just said. And spoke without letting his eyes move away from his. [B] "You know of the Baka Tau Mana. You must have done something significant to be allowed to cross out land."[/B] The man smirked at Makhaira, he didn't like the smirk or the odd feeling coming off of him. The man spoke. [B] "Yes, I know of the Baka Tau Mana. Rather smart people, rough around the edges but you are talented people in your art."[/B] Makhaira let his eyes slide for just a second to where this mans hand laied on his blade hilt, then returned his eyes to the mans gaze. [B] "Would you mind releasing my blade, sire?"[/B] The man released it and Makhaira grabbed the cord and wrapped it around his wrist once again. He then spoke in the Baka Tau Mana language, confident neither would understand. [I] "He is fast, faster then even me. He must have been a great enough man to earn the respect of the Elder Blademasters." "Your damn right I did."[/I] Rath said to Makhaira, he looked at the man in awe and disbelief. Rath just grinned at him. [I] "You speak Baka Tau Mana, this is quite amazing. What could you have possibly done to earn the right to learn the language?"[/I] [I] "I also learned your blade skills, I, myself, and a Blademaster."[/I] Makhaira clenched his hands and hearing this information. He though it was difficult enough for outsiders to learn the language, but to also learn the Blademaster technique was something altogether different. Makhaira contiuned to speak in his village language, leaving Leies completely confused. Makhaira threw several questions at Rath, wanting to know what he had done. He finally asked the only question that could explain this mans training. [I] "Are you the[/I] Carhain?" He said in a serious tone. Rath nodded to Makhaira. Makhaira instantly drew his blade, he went to one knee and held his blade up to Rath. His gaze was focused on the ground, then he looked up from the stone floor to Raths eyes. He spoke in the common tongue so Leies would understand [B]"Please forgive my insubordinance [I]Carhain[/I]. If you see if fit to slay me with my weapon please do so."[/B] Leies looked at him oddly, speaking in a commanding tone. [B] "What the hell are you doing Makhaira, he just tried to kill the king."[/B] Makhaira turned his head and looked at Leies with a deadly stare. [B]"This is the [I]Carhain[/I], he is the reason why we are called the Baka Tau Mana. It means "those with a master". The [I]Carhain[/I] is the lord of my tribe, he is the only being alive who killed thirty Blademasters alone. I am sworn to protect and serve the [I]Carhain[/I]."[/B] Makhaira returned his gaze to the floor, feeling suddenly that he had found his purpose. He still held his blade to Rath when he heard footsteps coming from his side, he saw that Leies was moving towards Rath. Makhaira instantly moved and brought his blade up, gripped in his right hand as he stared at Leies. [B] "Stay away from the [I]Carhain[/I]. You come any closer and I will kill you."[/B] Makhaira had a dead set look on his face, he was ready to do his dance with death. He didn't care how this would end, all he knew was that he was sent to protect the Carhain. He would fight to the death for the Carhain, and only death would stop him from doing his duty. Makhaira tossed the blade between his hands, ready to slash at him with either.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Makhaira looked at him oddly, he could tell this man was thinking himself superior to him. As if being raised amongst the elves was better then any other place. To Makhaira, the marsh land he lived in for almost thirty years was the most amazing and beautiful placehe had been too. He shook the other mans hand with a tad bit of an insult saying his sword was greater then his own, as if it was going to be used within enough time to stop Makhaira's from removing his head from his shoulders. The half-elf spoke to the king, Makhaira spoke shortly after he had finished. [B] "Names Makhaira Draisun, and I am no sort a mercenary or free-lance. I do this for a higher purpose. My village is one passed on finding your higher calling through the use of your skills. And I was not admiring your blade, I was assesing whether you would be a good fight in blade against blade."[/B] Leies look at him up and down, Makhaira could see the look that so many had given him before. Looking at him as an uneducated barbarian. One that understood nothing of civilization and the finer things in life, Makhaira leaned in to whisper into Leies' ear. [B]"In the village of the Baka Tau Mana, my village, that you said about your blade is considered a challenge. You ought to be careful, I will take you up on the challenge next time you present it. Because my skill, is in my blade."[/B] Makhaira tapped the blade at his side as he back away, he removed the cord from his wrist and let it slack a little. He watched the half-elf while in a slack sort of stance, this was hardly the case, Makhaira was ready at anytime to draw his blade and quickly take this man down. Leies gave a Makhaira an odd stare. [B] "And what exactly do your people call men with skills of the sword." "Blademasters." [/B]Makhaira answered blatantly, his stance still slack as his hands were on his sides. Makhaira caught Leies glance at the black handle to Callandor, he could see that he was decideing whether Makhaira was bluffing or telling the truth. Leies know nothing of this man, so he wouldn't be able to know of Makhaira's sword skills. Leies spoke in a calm tone. [B] "Anyway I can get you to show me these skills?"[/B] Makhaira grinned as a chuckle came from his throat. [B] "Drawing my blade would mean either you or I is going to die. I only draw in selfdefense or when I am left with no choice."[/B] Leies seemed to consider whether or not get Makhaira to draw his blade. Makhaira spoke in a dead tone. [B] "I would suggest not tempting me, we are called Blademasters for a reason. Large kingdoms would call us, paladins. But I am a Blademaster of the Baka Tau Mana, and you will see how I fight one day." [/B]Makhaira looked away from Leies as he looked around the grand room of the kings thrown room. He wondered if he would find what his purpose was on this quest, he also wondered if he would ever see his village again, or his friend. High Priest Francis.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Daimonas Rigas [B]Age:[/B] 25 [B]Gender:[/B] Male [B]Demon Name:[/B] Abaddon [B]Rider Name:[/B] Rider Arcane [B]Personality:[/B] Arcane is very, rebellious and reluctant to do anything that doesn?t suit his personal interest. His temper usually gets the better of him and never fails to get him in and out of trouble, but, even though he is very, self-centered about everything. He is loyal to Chaos and does as he orders, regardless of what is ordered of him. His behavior is at best reckless and short sighted, he only seems to see things straight a head of him. Even though his beastly side hides his more, intelligent and cunning side, a side that makes him ruthless and formidable in combat. [B]Appearance:[/B] [url=http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b18/Sagethefiend/Leonidas1.jpg] [I]Daimonas.[/I] [/URL] His regular attire is rather, humble for being the Demon Lord. He wears a crimson colored cloak with a black shirt that has dark red stitching of a symbol where his heart would be. It is a circle with a triangle on the side of it, the triangle as three arrows pointing in three different directions. Inside the triangle is stitching of red and black fire. The symbol is called the Red King, it stands for power and Man. He then wears black pants that are a little baggy, but constrict around his ankles, his boots go under the ankle constriction. [url= http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b18/Sagethefiend/Abaddon.jpg] [I]Abaddon.[/I] [/URL] [B]Weapon:[/B] The weapon of choice is a double edged sword, even though the sword has a curve to it that makes it look as if it is only single edged. The blade itself is pitch-black, the blade gives off the feeling that it will swallow up the light all around and extinguish it. The edge on the inside of the blade is as black as the sword, as if it was hiding itself from any until to strikes. The other edge is blood red, looking as if it had been dipped in blood and permanently stained. The tip is odd in the fact that it is two prongs, about 6 inches long and creates a V shape. Both sides of the prongs are razor sharp and seem to leak the raging inferno that resides within the blade. The blade that they use was crafted from fire s of hell and evil, being the sheer essence of it, having the power to burns ones very soul. Or, as the other Riders like to say, the blade is almost 3 feet long, just a few inches short of it. This puts it within the range of what Arcane likes, long enough to swing with power, but short enough to be used swiftly and quickly. [B]Bio:[/B] Daimonas grew up like any other poor youngster, his family was simple and quaint. They were mere farmers, growing, tending and harvesting the crops they made each year. Selling what little amount that was left over for other pieces of either farming tools and animals that were needed to plow the fields every year when the season came around. He lived a rather happy, but poor, life. He never asked for much, never demanded anything from anyone. He just enjoyed what was given to him and used his higher intelligence to do what he could to get the best deals for his family. When Daimonas turned 22 he had fallen in love and had married the woman he had been courting for sometime. He took care of her as best he could, while still helping his father and mother with the farm work. His brother was too young to do the hard labor, and his three sisters were all being taught different things, so, Daimonas was forced to pick up the slack. Within a year of Daimonas? marriage, his father passed on, falling pray to a sickness that could not have been seen coming. This put a heavier amount of pressure on Daimonas, he now was forced to support his whole family. Still, he pulled through, doing everything he could to make sure his family lived comfortably. When Daimonas was 24 tragedy struck him once again, his three sisters had been in town with his mother. They were all on some errand that Daimonas had sent them out on so they could get him some more farm tools and whatever they needed. Unfortunately, they never made it back, they were ambushed by a group of bandits who saw this as an opportunity to relieve some of there human needs. They raped his three sisters, and used them for there twisted pleasure of cutting them and watching them bleed while listening to them scream and cry. His mother was killed quickly, due to her age, they saw that she would do no good for there lust so they removed her head from her shoulders. Several days later, after Daimonas, his wife Agkelos, and his younger brother Promesium had been searching for his three sisters and mother they found there mangled bodies thrown into some random field. His sisters were all naked and torn up, their flesh was cut all over and there faces had been beaten in so badly that he could hardly recognize them. His mother?s corpse was a distance away from them, her head was one a sharpened stick next to the bodies. Her expression of terror and pain still present on her rotting head, Daimonas made sure not to cry in front of his wife or younger brother. He knew he had to remain strong in order for them all to move on from this. They buried the bodies in the same field they found them, Daimonas handled his mother and her head. Daimonas was then forced to be the head of the house hold, Agkelos was now the only one who did all the tasks his mother and sisters did. Daimonas and Promesium tended the farm lands, making sure they had a prosperous crop so they could continue to live on. But, the worst of Daimonas horror was not yet over. The year Daimonas turned 25, he saw something that would break what strength he had left and unleash all the rage and fury he had in him. Daimonas had been working the fields all day, harvesting half the crop by himself. Promesium had run off somewhere and left him to do all the work. He returned when the sun was fully out of sight, entering the home he had lived in for his whole life. He entered his home and found the house void of life, well, downstairs that was. Upstairs, he heard noises and decided to see what it was, he came to his bedroom. As soon as he pushed open the door, he saw the most shocking thing of his life. He found his wife in bed with another man, the other man was his brother Promesium. His wife and younger brother both saw him and reacted quickly, trying to cover themselves. Inside of Daimonas? mind, the final barrier against his release of anger was broken. He roared in sheer rage as he tore his brother from the bed had shared with Agkelos and dragged him downstairs. He took him outside and tossed him out into the cold dirt. His brother still naked and Daimonas livid, he grabbed the nearest item next to him. It was a pitchfork, he took his newly found object and ran his brother through his chest. Piercing both of his lungs and his heart, his wife came out, running after him trying to explain everything. Then she saw the gory sight of Promesium dead on the ground, the pitchfork in Daimonas? hand covered in blood. The look of the devil himself in the eyes of Daimonas, he used the pitchfork to slaughter his wife next. After he had done his deed, and came back to realization of his horrible crime he dragged the bodies into the house. He sat in the chair as let the tears pour out. After he let this happen, he walked over to the hearth, a fire already blazing in it. He used the oil from a lamp and some wood to get the fire to spread to the rest of the house. He seated himself on his knees, the whole house burning around him as he readied himself to be burned along with his slain brother and wife. The fire burned his brother first, the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils as his wife was burned next, the fire licked at Daimonas. He screamed as it spread across him, singing his flesh and slowly killing him. Daimonas thought he was finished with this world, and would now move on. But, he soon found he was wrong. He awoke in a place of sheer fire and hellish torrent of fire winds. Daimonas could see a creature sitting atop a large horse. The creature terrifying and intimidating as it merely looked at Daimonas, the black horns and red skin giving it that look of darkness, the way this place looked. Its wings were even more intimidating, adding to the things size. The Rider rode down to him, slowly trotting to him from atop a hill made of pure fire that slowly evaporated behind this creature. Daimonas could see the essence of rage and hatred radiate off him, as if it was alive and searching for something. The Rider stopped before Daimonas as if he were the king of some land, the Rider seemed to stare into Daimonas? very soul. Daimonas heard a ring when the blade from the creature was drawn. He could see the gleam from the blood red edge, Daimonas also saw the two prongs as the tip. The creature drew back its blade and thrust it forward, the sword stopping just inches from Daimonas face. Suddenly, a fire seeped from the blade, twisting around it like a snake around a vine. It leaked from the blade and found its way to Daimonas, pushing its way into every open space in his face, snaking its way into his eye sockets, his nostrils, his ears, and his mouth. The fire tearing its way through his body and corrupting his soul, forcing itself into him and permanently rooting itself deep within his core. The pain was excruciating and seemed to last an eternity, when in actuality, it lasted mere moments before the creature pulled back its blade. Daimonas collapsed before the mighty being. Daimonas awoke to the blue sky, the sun shining brightly on his face as the birds chirped. Clouds partial covered the sky, allowing the blue and the sun to show greatly. He rose from where he laid, he found himself amongst a pile of ash and burnt timber. The stone hearth before him still remained, he looked around in sheer shock, then looked at himself to see what kind of markings was left from the fire. He found nothing, not even a single scratch. He rose to a full stand and found himself in the dead center of where the blaze had been, he should have been dead, but he wasn?t. With this amazing event, he had a new inspiration for what to do with the rest of his life. He traveled to the nearest town, traveling naked and bare foot is rather difficult, and managed to get some clothes from a family friend. She gave him the clothes that he wears to this day, and now, he searches for the answers to all of his questions. To the answer to his ultimate question, he needs to find it, to discover its secret and then decide his destiny. He need to find the answer to the question, ?Why me?? [B]Snippet:[/B] The sun was bearing down on all that were caught in its shine, all embraced it with carefree arms. Daimonas was one of these people; he seemed to soak up the sun at times, as if the light of it made him powerful and strong. He always felt it deep within, but he never could grasp why it would effect him like this, he cared little since it only seem to strike at random times. But, its effects were strengthening with each day. He walked down the road, the hood on his cloak down to let the sun beam over his face; he sometimes did enjoy it for more sentimental reason, like he did back when he simply worked on the farm. Back when life was so simple. He shook his head to disregard all those ideas. He let the wind catch his cloak but continued forward, revealing the sheath at his side with a wicked blade handle extending outward. He was coming up to the next town and he didn?t have any intention to slow down until he arrived there. He was being drawn there so some reason and he needed to get there and soon as possible. He entered the town with ease; it was busy like the rests, filled with horses, wagons and people with different intentions for the day. He avoided the people as he walked through the streets, not wanting them to touch him out of sheer gut instinct. But, he had stopped caring for a mere moment when he swiped against someone else. They fell over and gripped there arm, where Daimonas had touch them, he quickly left the scene before witnessing anything. As he continued on his way, he noticed a fellow in the town, they way he looked with his spear in his hand was like the image of the creature on his steed with his terrifying appearance. He saw a man on the ground, gripping his jaw and trying to cry out in anguish. Three of the guards in the town were heading towards him; Daimonas instinctively drew his blade and head to the three guards. He knew not why he was going to help this stranger, but something told him that he must. He used his blade and placed it on the shoulders of one of the guards, a light sizzle came from where the sword rest on the guards shoulder. The guard turned as he ducked away from the searing hot blade. He saw Daimonas standing with his sword gripped in one hand; his eyes had a fire in them that showed what he was, and what hid deep within. The guard had an angry look on his face as he looked at the blade in Daimonas hands, and then at Daimonas himself. His cloak and his clothes rather made him more fearsome looking, and his stance of holding his blade also added to the look of a creature spawned from the hottest fires. The guard looked at the burned patch on his shirt, then to Daimonas. His face creased with anger and extreme dislike. [B] ?You dare to confront a guard of this town? You will regret this fool!?[/B] The guard drew his short sword as the two other guards occupied themselves with the man with the spear. The guard came at Daimonas and he reacted quickly, parrying each attack with little effort. Each strike from the guard?s blade created a shower of sparks as it bounce off Daimonas blade. There speed was nowhere near what they needed to get that amount of sparks. It was just the heat from within the blade, building as Daimonas temper started to flare. His rage, hatred, anger and fury all flowing through him as his swings became faster, Daimonas took control of the fight. He put the guard on high alert, forcing the guard to only parry and block all of Daimonas attacks. Daimonas? cloak tossed back and forth as he fought with a grace of a true warrior, of a natural born killer that was seasoned in the art form known as the dance of death. In a mere moment, the guard and Daimonas clashed together, pushing each other back and forth, Daimonas found he wasn?t using all his strength and was pushing the guard back. The blade was so hot that the blood red edge started to melt the guard?s short sword. Pushing right through the metal, drawing closer to the guards face. Daimonas pushed with much more force, the blade split from the heat and Daimonas blade buried itself in the mans skull. He sliced down with his blade and a large chunk of the mans head fell off. The part where he had sliced on both halves, were seared. Cauterizing the wound instantly without leaving any blistering or scorch marks on the mans flesh. Daimonas swiftly spun his sword and bolted to the man with the spear, standing a bit in front of the man with the spear. His sword gripped in both hands, his fiery intensity surging though his veins. He seemed so ready to give up his own life, to spare this stranger, and he didn?t know why. He lifted his sword as he readied to swing it and bring down a swift death.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]OOC: Hope you don't mind me moving in on your snippet there Sazabi, gave me something to do with Daimonas.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]The kingdom of Mecki was very large, very expansive, the gates to this city were much larger then to the ones of Fazen. Makhaira walked through the gates that were open to the public to walk through. He had left his horse two miles back, he had riden it so hard it collapsed from over exerting itself and died right in front of him. He just disregarded the horses and started to run towards his destination. The speed of the Baka Tau Mana was legendary amongst the other tribes in the marsh land, they could boast about how they were just as fast as any man on a horse. This was an over exaggeration, but not far from the truth. As he walked into the market place of the city, where every person tried to sell someone something, whether they needed it or not, and some people would buy these things, while other wouldn't even glance at the sellers. A majority of the sellers didn't even look at Makhaira when he passed by, all of them knew of they was he was dressed and the cord around his neck were clear signs of his tribe. And, because of there primative ways they were shunned by many, always feared since they were known for there skills with the blade at there waist. Makhaira kept his focus forward, ignorning the dirty looks and people pushing into him on purpose. He knew if he was to fight, he wouldn't stop when they meerly stopped moving. He would only stop if they were dead, it was the only way for a Blademaster to fight. To the death. And the took this very seriously, as did all Baka Tau Mana who were trained in the art of that dance with death. He noticed a few gaurds starting to watch him, whiserping to themselves about him, keeping there eys on him and there hands on there weapons at the ready. A majority of them had polearms present in ther grasp, the rest gripped the hilt of there blade. Makhaira knew they would never get a chance to use them if they tried to fight him. He kept his hand away from his blade, in order to dissipate any sort of tension that was building up around him, and among the guards that watched him carefully now. As he walked past many groups of people who were just talking amongst themselves, Makhaira listened carefully to the words that were spoken as he passed. He clearly heard the news of the two elven forests being raized by the foreign army. The one that seemed to be spreading across the world like a plauge, one that would choke all the lands until there was no breath of life left. He growled to himself as he remembered his past. He cut around a corner as he saw his path was bared by a building, Makhaira honestly had no idea where he was going. But he was deteremined to get to the fortress that lay inside the city. He knew if a king would be any where in this city, he would be there, where he could plan his strategy safely. He walked through a number of alley ways before he hit the main road, the road heading straight for the fortress. He grinned to himself and walked down this road, melding into the crowd as best he could. Even though he still stuck out like a sore thumb, the people around him simply ignored him. Believeing he was inferior to them, he accepted this without any problems. He desired no blood today, at least not from these innocent people. As he neared the the entrence to the fortress, he was grabbed by the shoulder and yanked into an alley way. He twisted into the alleyway as he saw a couple of men and a woman standing behind them. He watched them all with his multicolored eyes, his focus on the two men. The women pointed at him, saying something Makhaira couldn't believe she would blame him for when he had only just arrived. It was sheer foolishness and an attempt from her to cover up for her obvious pregnancey. She spoke again as her hand shook from pointing at him so hard. [B] "He was the one who raped me. His child is the one I am to bare into this world."[/B] Makhaira straightened himself out as he listened to what the woman was accusing him of. He shook his head as he let out a small chuckle and a bit of a smile. [B] "This is foolishness, I have only just arrived in this kingdom. And judging by the size of her belly, she is obviously lieing to protect the true man that impregnated her."[/B] The man who stood a little in front of her spit at Makhairas feet. He was a young and stout man, he could tell that this lad was this girls older brother or very close friend. The man standing right beside the girl had slightly graying hair, but was still of a large size, it showed he worked hard in his life time. He was clearly her father, from what Makhaira could tell. Makhaira watched the man who spit at him, the young man then spoke. [B] "He's got to be lying. Look at him, he came from such a primative tribe. Only someone like him could be so savage as to rape an innocent girl." "I didn't rape anyone, I just arrived in the city. There is no possible way this could of happened. And your a fool for believeing her. She obviously pointed me out in fear of you finding out who the real father is."[/B] Makhaira changed his gave to the older man beside his daughter. [B] "Or, she is trying to hide it from you. And he already knows, he's just playing along to divert suspision from the real father."[/B] Makhaira could see the shock in there eyes, the only one who didn't seem to be shocked by this, was the father. He seemed to think about what had just been said, how the youngster had been so willing to take this man out. And the daughter randomly pointing out some stranger in odd clothes. Makhaira looked to the young man again. [B] "Don't insult my intelligence or my tribe. We are smarter then you know, and we use that to our advantage. The Baka Tau Mana are no tribe to fool with, we are quick to think and react properly. The only thing quicker then our wit, is out sword, and when we draw out blade, we use it to kill. Be aware of that before attempting to strike me."[/B] Makhaira looked at them all carefully, he could see the young man had a distinct look of fear and a break in his confidence. The girl was close to the brink of tears, she was gripping on to her fathers arm. The old man watched Makhaira. Makhaira was growing impatient about this, so he held out his chest and held his arms to his side. [B] "If you think I really am deserving of this, then strike at my heart. I will not try to stop you or fight back. Only strike if it is the right thing to do." [/B]The young man had a sword at his side, he drew it with a distinct ring to it. He held it back so the point would plunge into Makhairas chest, the father snatched his elbow as he was about to thrust it. The young man looked at the father with eyes of surprise, the father had a hard look in his eyes. [B] "He doesn't deserve to die. He didn't do anything. I saw the look in both of your eyes, he is innocent." [/B]The young man tugged his arm free and sheathed his sword and moved away from Makhaira towards the girl, the father moved towards Makhaira. He bowed his head to him. [B] "I apoligize to you for this mess you were involved in. Your words revealed much to me."[/B] Makhaira bowed at the waist, then straightened himself out. [B] "It is fine sir. You knew what was right, and I am glad that nothing had to transpire that wasn't necessary. I will take my leave."[/B] Makhaira started to walk awy until he reached the two standing together, he looked down at both of them. His eyes seemed to look into there vary souls, revealing all there secrets to him. His face was hard and unforgiving, it was his way of giving them a threat if they did something as foolish as this again. He then turned away and walked into the street. Turning so he was going to the fortress. He came up to the fortress and spoke to the guards, telling them he was sent from Fazen to meet the kings request. The guards hurried him to the king. Makhaira entered the large halls that was the kings chambers, he saw an unusual sight. A half elf, half human standing in the same room. Conversing with the king, Makhaira bowed his head to both as they noticed them. The king approched him and looked him over. Makahaira spoke in a cool and calm tone. [B] "High Priest Francis has sent me to heed the word of the king of Mecki. I hope my word is good enough for you, I was not given any physical proof."[/B] The king patted him on the shoulder. [B] "It is fine. I know Francis, he would not send just anyone for this mission. I am King Tyran, welceom to Mecki. I hope your time in this city has been well so far."[/B] Makhaira grinned to himself as he looked the half-elf standing beside the king, watching him closely as he assesed him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Makhaira Draisun [B]Age:[/B] 35 [B]Gender:[/B] Male [B]Race:[/B] Human [B]Appearance:[/B] Makhaira is a different sort of breed, he is roughly 6?0? to 6?1?and he has a dark skin tone about his body, a tan color that could blend in nicely with the ground. He has one green eye and the other is blue, his hair is a pitch black color. His face is clean of any mark or blemish even though he is an, experienced worker. His attire is simple but very effective for his line of work. He wears a simple black vest over his bare chest that has holes where laces should go, but are not there. His pants are slightly baggy, but only enough for his legs to maneuver quickly, they constrict around his ankles, just above his ankle high shoes. He has an armguard on his right arm, starting from his wrist and going up to about his elbow. The arm guard only covers the front part of his forearm, leaving the back exposed. On his left wrist, there is a cord wrapped around it once, the cord then goes up and ties around his neck. The other end of the cord attaches itself to Makhaira?s sword, which is his primary means of killing any person that is presented before him [B]City or Forest:[/B] The Kingdom of Fazen-High Priest Francis [B] Class:[/B] Paladin [B]Personality:[/B] Makhaira is very honorable in the field of battle and in all aspects of his life. He lives by a strict warrior?s code that heavily dictates what he does in his life and how he acts among the public. He does enjoy his life, but in a different way. Since he is, as they say, the back bone of the army he is dedicated to his sword skills and treats every movement he does, regardless of being in combat or not. He calculates every step, every glance and every hand motion he makes at all time. He takes his life seriously while still enjoying with his own hint of fun. But, being a product of war, he is not left without his sadism and merciless side. This side becomes evident when he becomes caught up in his battle, when nothing around him matters to him, only simply focusing on his enemy. In this state of mind, he is heartless machine, virtually no one can bring him back from this unless he so wishes it. Even though Makhaira lives with a spiritual leader, he still tries to perfect his technique, always remembering what the Baka Tau Mana Blademasters always told him, ?No technique is absolutely perfect, it must be refined every day.? And every night, he deals with the horrible images of the foreign forces sweeping through his village, it puts a heavy toll on his heart and mind. Leaving him vulnerable to the only sword that cannot be stopped by any man. The sword of pain, the pain of memory that is powerful enough to bring a man down to his knees. Makhaira is not exception. [B]Weapons:[/B] [I]Callandor:[/I] This is Makhaira?s only weapon, and he is extremely proficient with it. Its black handled and wrapped in black leather that slides easily from hand to hand but remains in place when held firmly. The blade itself it as a bit of a convex curve to it with a two pronged tip, the slight curve in his blade has an edge to it that is as black as the blade itself, along with the outward edge. The blade is about 3 ½ feet long, enough for good swing, but short enough so that it can be with drawn and used again. Makhaira?s sword skills are unprecedented which makes him very effective with any bladed weapon handed to him. The cord that is attached to the hilt end of his sword is tied to his neck so that he never can lose his sword in combat, even though the chances are immensely low, it is better to be prepared, rather then dead. As Makhaira says to all. [B]Magic:[/B] N/A [B]Bio:[/B] Makhaira didn?t have a normal childhood in the least bit, it consisted of traumatic events that shaped the part of his being that takes joy from murdering any who challenge him. When he was young, maybe only about 6 or 7, he witnessed his world being turned upside down. He saw an expeditionary force from some foreign land invade his town; they were ruthless, murderous, and full of human need. He watched in sheer horror as the force swept through his town, slaying all men that didn?t have a profession useful to there need. And all the women they encountered, they looked them over quickly and then stuck a ring through there lower lip to classify who they would go to. They had three different colors: white, black, and gold. White meant they were only decent at best and would be used in the men?s camps; black meant that they were far more attractive then white and were more welcomed by the men and there savage needs. And gold meant they were the highest of beauty and were only for the ruler to enjoy fulltime, unless he passed them down to his soldiers, who were more then willing to take them. Makhaira?s mother was branded with a gold ring through her lip; she was raped by as many men as possibly could take her. His father was murdered brutally; they slit his throat so deeply it looked like his head would roll off at any moment. They were about to so the same to him, when an outsider interfered, slaughtering the officer and the few men that had been with him to rape Makhaira?s mother. The outsider stole away Makhaira, saving him in actuality from a fate of death or slavery; he was forced to leave his mother behind and the corpse of his father. The outsider that had taken him what part of a little bit more primitive village, which resided in a marsh land that was laced with dangers. Here, in the village of the Baka Tau Mana, he was treated like a son to the man that had taken him. His name was Hinsai, and he was many of the Blademasters in the village. These were warriors who were so skilled with there blades that none could dare to beat them unless they were wielding heavy magic. To Makhaira?s luck, they started teaching him this fighting style, teaching as soon as he entered the village and putting a blade in his hand. He spent almost ten years learning to just get the basics down; the sword style itself was extremely complex and difficult for anyone not born in these lands to learn. But, when he finally mastered the basics of the technique his technique flourished. Picking it up quickly and becoming very talented and was fighting elder Blademasters at the age of 25. At about that age they were still trying to refine there technique. After he had fought his first elder blademaster, he was crafted a special sword to fit his person and his specific quirks. Callandor was created then, and had never left his side. Makhaira left he village when he had turned 28, the village didn?t want him to leave due to the fact he had lived with them so long and became family. He told them to consider him as the walking dead; this is a ritual among the Blademasters that is initiated when the Baka Tau Mana leaves the village on an important mission to him. The whole village wept from him as if he had passed away moments ago as he left the village and its sight. Makhaira spent a year wandering the lands, trying to find the place his heart was drawing him to. He found the Kingdom of Fazen when his year long journey had ended. When he had entered the city he had been met with hostility and was forced to defend himself. He slew seven guards before he was confronted by the ruler of the land, High Priest Francis. He was asked by Priest if he would lower his weapon and talk to them. Makhaira complied with his wishes, throwing the blade of his shoulder and letting it hand as he puffed out his chest, letting them know they could strike him down at anytime if they thought it just in cause. This was Blademaster etiquette when confronted by someone willing to talk. Francis treated Makhaira with a respect and kindness he had only received from the Baka Tau Mana, and the family he had before they were taken from him. He was taken to the High Priests meeting place, which was a very elaborate and large estate that served as just the mere meeting place for dignitaries and important people in the city. His true home was almost like a palace in the heart of the city, mostly since this Kingdom was a based on religious devotion and many followed it to the teeth. Makhaira was treated by the rest of the people in this land as nothing better then filth, do to his savage looks and his clear disregard for these people?s customs, only due to the fact he knew nothing of them. But, since the High Priest took the time to talk to Makhaira and let him explain his history, he became a favorite personal guard for Francis. While at the same time, leading an elite unit of sword carrying specialists, He still serves the High Priest faithfully and giving him the same respect and kindness he showed Makhaira. [B]Snippet:[/B] The sun showed brightly down on the Palace of the High Priest, giving it an ominous and spiritual look. One that gave the impression to all that it was made for none other then the one closes to the one who created them all and gave them life. Makhaira idly walked through the Palace hallways, checking the rooms all along the hall. He had ordered his unit to check every room, mostly as a safety precaution, but also due to the feast that would take place in the Palace tonight. This was extremely rare at all, usually feasts were held at the estate, where Makhaira and his unit could keep a closer eye on them and not have to travel around the large Palace. He checked another room, opening the door enough for him to see within the room. He could see two bodies on a bed, he closed the door slowly and moved on. He shook his head as he replayed the image for the moment of the two naked couple on the bed. He opened another door and checked the room, he continued this circuit the entire way down the hallway. Checking a total of seventy-two doors, he sighed to himself as he headed down another corridor, meeting eyes with one of his men. Giving him the nod to continue his search as the soldier saluted him. He walked into and past several large rooms, all of them decorated different for different tastes. One such room was coated in blue, blue drapes, carpet, bedding, fabrics in every shade of blue was present in this room. Covering everything in the different shades to make it flow nicely and give it a soothing effect of the ocean. Others were of different colors, giving off different effects. Makhaira?s personal choice in room was one that lay on the outside of the Palace. One that usually held servants and other such people who didn?t live close enough to the Palace, he liked its feeling of the village he lived in for so long. The cord around his neck reminded him constantly of where he had learned his technique, and how he paid tribute to them on a daily bases. Soon, he came across a room with two large double doors made of a thick white oak that was engraved and painted to the High Priests liking. Covered in the white and blue of the High Priests traditional colors, this had been the colors of the religious leader ever since this position was created. Makhaira pushed through one of the doors, passing the guards that watched him carefully. Walking down the long stripe of blue fabric that laid on the ground, it leads from the door to the High Priests throne chair. The walls to each side of Makhaira either had an elaborate painting of a past High Priest, or had a stained glass window that depicted some event in the history of Fazen. He ignored all of these images as he approached the High Priest, he walked up the steps leading up to the throne and then bowed his head to Francis. [B] ?High Priest, every room has been checked in the Palace for tonight?s feast. I have my men checking every room over again to make sure we didn?t miss anything.? [/B]Makhaira raised his head to look at the High Priest in the eye. The High Priest had light brown hair and a bit pale skin, his robes consisted of the classic white and blue that was required of him to wear. He had soft hazel eyes, which could be inviting and pleasant and suddenly shift to piercing and deadly. Makhaira had seen that look, and knew the look always meant. It was the look he always gave when ever the High Priest was going to send his unit out to do there job. The High Priest held out his hand, revealing that Francis was a bit more built then his robes showed. He gestured for Makhaira to come closer to him. Makhaira complied and stepped closer, standing by his side as the High Priest spoke to him in his powerful voice that held every ounce of kindness and decency that was within the man and constantly shown to the public and private parties. [B] ?You have done well, Makhaira. You have kept me safe for several years and done an excellent job of training other men. Even if you have been holding back a great amount of your technique to kept it within your people?s hands, and not strangers.?[/B] Makhaira kept his face straight, not revealing the surprise behind his blank expression. He had been out in the court yard training soldiers only the bare minimum of his technique, only wanting them to learn enough to keep them alive and give them an edge in battle that other nations wouldn?t have. But, other nations didn?t have a Baka Tau Mana in their midst. He never was aware that Francis would watch as Makhaira practiced with these men. Only Francis had seen the full extent of Makhaira?s skill, and it had frightened him to see such fluidity and sheer power and force behind each swift swipe. Makhaira cleared his throat cleared his throat before speaking. [B] ?Yes, well, I try to give them enough of an advantage to remain strong. But, my full technique can only be shared with someone who I believe is truly worthy of it. Your men don?t seem to want to learn it, or care if they only know a bit of it. But, regardless, they are better fighters now. And I will be at your side tonight, so there will be no concerns.? ?No you won?t. You are going to leave tonight.?[/B] Makhaira cocked his head and looked at the High Priest with an odd look. [B] ?What do you mean? There?s nowhere else they need me, I am the personal guard of the High Priest. No duty is greater then that in your Kingdom.?[/B] Francis straightened himself out as he stood up from his throne and took a step forward, standing right on the first step leading down. He spoke again as he placed his hands behind his back. [B] ?There has been a call from Mecki. They are calling for the strongest warriors from all over the land. And, you are one of the only people from the Baka Tau Mana village that could prove to be a great fighter.?[/B] Makhaira step towards him, holding up the hand with the cord around it, protecting his order to leave and speaking his mind to the High Priest. [B] ?I refuse to leave. Mecki can survive without my help, my duty is here. This is where my mission lies.?[/B] Francis turned around. [B]?No, it doesn?t. Your mission, your destiny lies in Mecki, on the battlefield. Makhaira, the enemy they fight, is from a foreign nation. One that none of us know of, one that swept through countless towns, murdering many without mercy. And, if I remember correctly, they have women with them, all of them ringed through there lip.?[/B] Makhaira?s fits tightened, his face was creased with the anger and rage from the painful memories. His neck was pushing against the cord around his neck as it expanded a bit. Francis didn?t honestly know if there were women in the camps of this foreign army, but he knew it would get Makhaira?s blood to boil. Makhaira lowered his hand and bowed at the waist before straightening himself out. [B] ?I will leave immediately. I will find a horse quickly and be off to the Kingdom of Mecki.?[/B] Makhaira started walking until he reached the side of the High Priest, he spoke in a dead tone. [B]?I am the walking dead. If I am slain in battle, then the cord around my neck will be delivered to you, along with my sword. It will be proof that I have passed on, if my blade makes it to you.?[/B] Makhaira paused for a moment as he saw flashes of his town burning and his mother being raped repeatedly, her horrible screams echoing through his head. [B] ?Bring it to the Baka Tau Mana, they will know what to do with it.?[/B] Francis waited a moment before answering, he could hardly think of his personal guard, and his friend, dieing in combat. Especially with his amazing technique that was impossible for most armies to match. He nodded before he answered. [B] ?I will make sure they get it, old friend.?[/B] Makhaira then stepped down the stairs, walking out the door and down to the stable, dead set on riding to Mecki to face the forces that threatened the lands freedom. And to gain his vengeance that had so long eluded him. He settled up his horse, and rode off through the open gates, changing his direction slightly to head to Mecki.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]OOC: Hope this is just fine with you Sazabi, if positions are full, then hope your Rp goes well[/SIZE]

[CENTER][B]When Worlds Collide[/B] [SIZE=1][COLOR=DarkRed][I]?As the Gods once clashed with one another, Men will do so too. But men of extraordinary power will battle, And the fate of two worlds will be decided By a man who thinks himself more then mortal and The people of the worlds at stake.?[/I][/COLOR] The sky was covered in dark clouds; the sun tried to break through the clouds but failed to penetrate the thick coverage. Smoke rose from a city, buildings were set a blaze and the fire was spreading fast, scorching the buildings and licking the sky as the flames grew. The massive wooden gates that was bound by steel was torn apart, splinters of the gates that once protected the city was now spewed across the ground. Bodies littered the ground, all of them mangled, ripped, cut, and shredded in different ways. Sprawled on the ground; none of them were full corpses. All had something ripped off, cut off, or there was no body for it to be attached to. Heads were bashed open, their brains were scrambled on the ground, and they were cut open with blood dripping out of their open skulls. This was the city of Kanzel. A city that was filled with diversity and cultural variation, where people lived in happiness and peace, knowing they were protected by a group of women called Asheen. But now, they all lay dead. Never to speak, to dream, to live a full life. Even children were slaughtered like cattle; their bodies were mangled the worse, their torso had been cut open cleanly, their organs spilled on the ground. This was the work of a true monster; no man could have done such damage. In the middle of the town, with two pure white sword with ancient inscriptions on one blade, and the other with a dragon, spewing fire from its mouth. Both were dripping with blood, they were held by a single man standing in the center of the town. He himself was drenched in blood, from head to toe. He swung his blade as a man with a pitch fork came at him, taking the mans arm off cleanly then ramming his other blade through his chest. An Asheen came at him next, using her abilities that made her one of the protectors of this city. But, she failed like all the rest, her magic having no effect on him; he cut her straight down the middle. Both halves falling in different directions. He slowly started to turn in full circle, seeing who else was still alive. As he finished his full circle, he saw that none were alive. He lowered his swords as he looked into the smoke filled sky. He roared in triumph, holding his blades up. The tips pointed to the sky, he smiled wickedly as his sinister laugh left his lips. He continued to marvel at his work, at the death and destruction he had caused by himself. He sheathed his swords on his back as he stretched with the smile still on his face. He yelled to the sky as if to taunt it with his great achievement. [B] [COLOR=Dark Green]?I have done what no being has ever done! I have destroyed Kanzel! The city of power! I am no longer a simple man, I am a God!?[/COLOR][/B] He roared again, knowing he had done the impossible, he had achieved a level of power that none could surpass. And in his moment of ultimate triumph he continued to laugh. But, he felt something shoot through his mind, the thought that would lead to his ultimate crime, the thought that he had lost this world, before even trying to take it. With the crime of ultimate consequences just committed by his own two hands, there was no way he could get these people under his command. Even by force, he would end up eliminating every last one. He needed a new world to inhabit, a new dimension that held massive magical potential. A world where he could create his very own kingdom. But, there was no one world that held enough power to supply his needs. He would need to do something extremely dangerous, but he didn?t care. Nothing would stop him. [B] [COLOR=DarkGreen]?I?ll make my world. And if anyone in those dimensions try to stop me. I?ll kill them like these people, slaughter them like pigs!?[/COLOR][/B] Right then, he gripped his head and he began to groan. His voice started to change; it went from a harsh, hallow voice that sounds like it resonated from the depths of the underworld. To a human voice, that sounded like it was normal. It spoke as he gripped the sides of his head. [B][COLOR=Blue]?You can no do this Sage! The taint from this crime can be washed away! We cannot destroy more worlds, they don?t deserve this!? [/COLOR][/B]Sage roared again, standing straight up with his face pointed to the sky. He lowered his head, his hair covering his face. [COLOR=DarkGreen] ?The taint of evil was always there Gabriel. I just acted on it. I got my revenge, but I need more. And I don?t care about other worlds. The prophecy haunts me, not you! So I will do all I can to make sure that the prophecy does not come to pass, and any who try to stop me will be crushed.?[/COLOR] Sage closed his eyes, and breathed deeply for a few seconds. His body then started to shift; his bones cracked and moved places, his skin turning an awful chard black color. His clothes then began to change, his green shirt and pants turning pitch black, his forest cloak shifted into a trench coat and a mask enveloped his face with black eye pieces and white horns sprouting from the top of the mask. Black metal covered his arms and his torso, the metal on his hand pointed at the fingers. He arched his back as his roared into the sky; he straightened his body and pulled on his coat. He then reached up to his face and pulled away the mask, his eyes were blood red. He smiled wickedly and revealed wickedly long fangs, the hung over the sides of his bottom lip. He reached outward and touched the space in front of him with his index finger. He closed his eyes and began to whisper words in a dark language, the air shimmering in front of him as his made symbols in the air the would glow brightly, the fade. His words slowly picking up pace as the symbol drawing became more aggressive, more swift and commanding, each symbol growing brighter and taking longer to fade as the incantation continued. He stopped dead, no more words passed form his mouth, and the symbols stood steady in the air as they lined themselves up, creating a large circle in the space in front of him. He then let his hand fall as a slice formed in the air before him which leaked white light from it; he then stabbed his hand into the gash and moved it around a bit, getting a better grip on what was beyond. [I][COLOR=DarkGreen]?Tear it open Azuroth. Take us away from this disgusting pit and bring us to the new world where we can conquer everything.?[/COLOR][/I] Azuroth?s wicked smile grew with the request from the inner voice. [COLOR=DarkRed][B]?With pleasure, Sage the fiend.?[/B][/COLOR] And with one swift swipe, he ripped through the very fabric of space and time, creating a hole with white light pouring from the rip. Azuroth placed the mask back on his face and looked back one more time. He let out a chuckle, then a full sinister laughter as he walked into the portal of light. [COLOR=DarkGreen][B]Summary:[/B] Well, as you can see. This, creature has done something that no one before him could do, but because of his sinister nature he craves to rule a land of his own, and he cares not who he hurts or what kind of damage he causes to either of these worlds. As long as he gets his ultimate world with maximum magical strength. But, the prophecy states that he will decide the fate of the worlds. But the hero?s of the two worlds will also have a say in what happens. And that is who will save their worlds. This RPG will be a combination of two different book series; one is called The Sword of Truth series and the Shannara series. Now, it would be helpful if people who are going to sign-up are familiar with one of the series. And if you aren?t then just sign-up, it will probably make it all around more interesting. There are going to be key characters for each world, here is the list for each world. [B]Sword of Truth:[/B] [B]Richard Cypher:[/B] He is the second son of the king of Hartland, which is deep in a land called Westland. And even being the son of a king he still enjoys the simple life of the woodlands by being a woods guide. But Richards life is shrouded in secrets that he doesn?t even know exist, he believes his life will remain simple, and free of complications. But that is the farthest thing from the truth. Richard is truly a kind person, but not afraid to teach someone a lesson when they need it. His devotion to honest is only matched by his continues giving of his forgiveness to others. [B]Kahlan Amnell:[/B] She is a delicate looking woman who is very fierce; she originates from the Midlands and had a very troubling childhood. Death being the main culprit, she hides a secret that makes her the most feared and powerful person in the Midlands. But, this secret that she holds is a heavy part of her life, and makes her cautious around everyone, but she also remains stern in the presence of all. To maintain her status of being on the most powerful magic users in the Midlands [B]Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander (Zedd):[/B] An old man who spends his time in to forest, reading clouds is what he does. They tell him things that others don?t know; he has an extensive knowledge of herbs and things that others don?t know. Richard is like a son to him, he has taught him every day of his life. And hopes to help him to the end. Zedd holds a secret that makes him a very powerful man with the power to do almost anything, but, his power also has made him wise beyond his apparent old age. [B]Darken Rahl:[/B] Darken is an extremely wicked man, his soul is blackened and tainted with the filth of the Keeper, the ruler of the Underworld. It is also tainted with the evil passed down from his father, teaching him in the practices of anthropomancy. It is the divination by the entrails of a man or woman, this has its limited use but Darken takes pleasure in its use. He also has deep relations with the underworld, making a pact with the Keeper in exchange for use of a side of magic that has been lost for 3000 years. Darken likes to keep a curved knife at his side; this is something he likes to use when he does his executions. His cruelty and malice towards the rest of the Midlands is greatly reflected from his position as Master of D?hara and controlling the fiercest army in all the Midlands. Darkens ultimate goal is an obvious one: To dominate all life in the world, and to silence any who would oppose him. [B]Shannara:[/B] [B]Ohmsford:[/B] Ohmsford is a last name, but it belongs to the people who hold elven blood of the famous Jerle Shannara. An elf who fought a creature called the Warlock Lord. The Ohmsford?s are generally very determined to do what is right, even though the live in a small village in a valley. (Need two people for this role.) [B]Druids:[/B] Druids are an ancient race that holds great magical powers and knowledge that is far too great for man to handle. The druids live in reclusion in their Keep called Paranor, druids usually don?t interfere with things going in the outside world but one is very well known for helping the Ohmsfords. Allanon. Druids tend not to be trusted since they never tell the whole truth to the Ohmsfords. A man named Walker Boh has become the last druid, after Allanon passed away three hundred years ago. [B]Leah:[/B] Leah is a kingdom in the southern lands; son?s of Leah always seem to get caught up in what the Ohmsfords do. Princes of Leah tend to be very courage?s, clever and hold a very powerful sword that was created by Allanon for Rone Leah, a protector of one of the Ohmsfords. The swords magic changes with each new wielder, which makes it ever evolving. The only draw back of the sword is that it makes the wielder dependent on the magic and becomes very addictive. [B]Shadowen:[/B] Shadowen are a dark race created from magic, ethereal shapes and seeping into the bodies of those they believe worthy vessels and twisting their body and features until desirable. Their magic is dark and powerful; their coming alone can drain life from the land and wither it until it is dead and black. Shadowen feed off of magic; this also includes the magic that is deep in the earth or magic that comes from others, that is, if the magic doesn?t destroy them first. Shadowen tend to be very intelligent creatures, think at or above the level of humans. But if starved of their major food source, then they completely revert to primal instincts and become ravenous beasts. Only a few Shadowen have been seen taking on human form, the most infamous Shadowen is a man called Rimmer Dall. He covers as an elite soldier who hunts down magic for the Federation. Whew, ok. Now that we have gotten through all of that and you all know what exist in what world. I give you, your means of signing-up.[/CENTER] [B]Name:[/B] (Pretty obvious, choose from the top list. Unless it is Ohmsford of Leah, then make up a first name. And if all the spots are filled, make someone up.) [B]Age:[/B] (Ohmsford and Leah tend to be young, as in mid-twenties or so; Zedd and the Druids are very old.) [B]Gender:[/B] (Pretty simple.) [B]Race:[/B] (Sword of Truth there is only human; Shannara has many types of creatures. Dwarves, Elves, and Humans live in the southland. Gnomes, Trolls, and other creatures live in the northland.) Personality: [B]Weapon:[/B] (Kahlan, Zedd and the Druids don?t have physical weapons. They have magic. Richard will receive his true weapon in the beginning of the RP.) [B]Character Snippet:[/B] (I just want this to be about what you do in your daily life in your world, if you Ohmsford then you are living a simple farm life, Leah lives like royalty, Kahlan do what you want and so on and so forth.) That is everything that you will need, if all the Key characters are taken and more want to sign-up then just create a unique character. [B]ATTENTION:[/B] This is not first come, first serve. This is who ever has the better sign-up gets the part, so try to do your best. Others wise have at it. After a few, I?ll post my character.[/COLOR][/SIZE] [COLOR=Red][SIZE=1]I would also like to give major credit to Redemption, for helping me make this. Hope you all enjoy and have fun with this.[/SIZE][/COLOR]

[SIZE=1]Kain only saw the man with the brown bag over his head coming down on them with his spear. He was about to jump out of the way himself when he remembered Claudia, and how she was still rather drained from the receiving of there new, weapons and such. He instead threw her out of the way and held his glaive up in both hands, the shaft facing the spear as it slammed down beside him and sent him and a few others to the ground. The shockwave resonated from the blast area and effected the rest that had managed to avoid his direct attack. Kain lay face first in the ground, his face cut up in several places along with his clothes and body. He laid there for severals econds before gripping his glaive again and stnading shakly. He stood up on one knee, using his glaive to support him, one of his eyes were closed from a cut just above it, as blood steadily ran over his eyelid and forced him to keep it close. It dripped off his face in slow drops, Kain used what strength he could muster and pulled himself to his feet. Standing up straight and holding himself up as confidently as possible. He witnessed at the man meerly flicked Matt on the forehead and sent him hurdiling through the air into a tree. He listened to the maniacal words of the brown bagged man. [B] ?Come on now! Everyone fight me! You can do it! Beat me, blast me! Hit me with all you?ve got!?[/B] Kain growled himself as he used his shirt to wipe the blood from over his eye, once he noticed the blood flow wasn't going to stop he jammed his glaive into the ground and tore of the bottom part of his shirt and tied it around his head tightly. Hoping to stop the blood from flowing into his eye, he need both if he was going to do any sort of damage to this man. He grabbed his glaive and whistled loudly to grab the mans attention. The man turned to face him, Kain could see the crazed look in his eyes. [B] "If you want to fight, come here and fight."[/B] Kain said in a harsh tone as he lowered his body, crouching almost, and placed his left arm in front of him and held up his glaive, while slightly resting it on his left. The man smiled as he gracefully and menacingly made his way to Kain, kain onyl had to wait a few moments for him to be within in striking distance and then struke. He thrusted the glaive forward, using as much strength the push it forward. The man dodged it and Kain withdrew and struck again. Repeating this motion as he stepped forward with eavh thrust, gaining ground while trying to formulate a plan. the man didn't wait for Kain to get a steady plan, he used his spear with such speed and ferocity that all Kain could do was dodge and parry, barely. The man hit Kains glaive in just the right place that it spun it in his hand and Kain was able to let it rest across his shoulders and turn his body side ways. He planted his feet once more put on a fierce face, his features hardening and responding just like his ancestors had so long ago in that battle that had put them at such odds. He used his right hand as the power and thrust, as he used his left hand to guide his glaive to its target. He thrusted the glaive forward, taking a step as the man with the brown bag over his head dodged and parried. Kain grwing more aggresive and fersome as the battle waged, using more power, more precisions and hidden skills that he never knew he had. He kept thrust the glaive, twisting it at the same time to see if he could use the hooked edge to snatch the spear and twist it out of the mans hands. He failed at every attempt, but still refused to give up. Kain then took it off his shoulders and swung it from behind him at the mands knees, hoping to knock him down. Letting the spiked edge do its damage if it hit. Unfortunetly, the man reacted far quicker then Kain could swing. He had brought his spear down to cover his legs. Kains glaive collided with his spear shaft and bounced off, Kains arm went back with it as he gripped it tightly. He man brought his hand up and smacked Kain right in the forehead with his palm. Sending Kain through the air, sliding across the grass and dirt. The dirt digging into all of his wounds and cuts, the pain was barely noticable on one cut, but the many he had was rather painfully. Kain cringed as the dull and throbbing feel corused through him. He lifted his arm up and planted his glaive into the ground. Using all his strength to lift himself up, the blood had oozed out of the makeshift bandage and flowed over his left eye. He spit to his right and let the taste of copper exit his mouth as his blood stained the earth. He brought his glaive up and his left arm across his body once more as he rest the glaive on it. His left arm cut up and bruised along with his glaive arm, his face hd more dirt smeared into it and more blood seeping from it. Several new cuts had been made by the man, every time Kain had dodged, he somehow had a new cut. The man smiled through his brown paper sac in his head. [B] "Come on, you must be tired from that. I can see it, you my boy are on ther verge of collapse. Just lay down and go to sleep, just do it, just do it!"[/B] He let out his cruel and maddened laugh echo, his twisted smile showing his pleasure and lust. Kain remained silent, gripping his glaive tightly, his knuckles turning white. Kain could feel how weak he was, his body was almost out of stength and he didn't know how much more of a beating he could take. But, something inside of him, something deep with in the dark recesses of his mind urged him on. Telling to never quit, to keep fighting until the only release was death. Kain smirked through the blood and brusing. The man turned his head, his smile still on his face, as if it was forever painted on. He moved swiftly, quickly and with no mercy, thrusting his spear toward Kain, Kain, at the same time, thrusted his glaive. Roaring with such ferocity, rage, anamalisim and power, that he could feel the glaive move faster, harder, with more force behind the thrust then any other time he had before. In that one moment, in that very instant. You could see it. The mere image of a proud spartan. Of a warrior who was raised to fight, to battle, to kill. Of a being that was beyond anything that any could fathom. That was such a force, then any that had hear the ring of his blade, would fall to there knees and weep. But, in the same instant, the sight was gone and all that stood was Kain, his polearm thrusted before him. Held in the air in front of him, tip to tip with the mans spear. The man just smiled as he held his spear out with such ease, Kain was huffing and puffing as his struggled to keep his up. To keep from faultering and losing his life to this psychopath, his left arm was still held across his body. As if a shield rested on it. The man licked his lips, and let out a breath. He then swiftly brought the other end of his spear across Kains head, sliding his hand effortlessly across the shaft as he smashed his spear butt against Kains face. The sheer force twisted Kains whole body and flung him through the air. Skidding across the dirt and grass once more, and forcefully hitting a tree. He lay limp for a moment, he looked dead to any who coudlsee him. His head hung and blood dripped from his mouth. The gash under the bandage gushed more, it looked grim for Kain Cull. That was, until his hand twitched. then his whole arm moved, his head swung a bit and his whole body moved slowly. Trying to gain some strength back, he lifted his head and looed around with one eye. He found his glaive laying a foot away from him. He reached out and grabbed it, then pushed himself up. Using his glaive once more to support him, he stood up. He spit once more, the copper taste was all that he coudl tasted. He wipped his forearm across his left eye to remove the blood. The man crouched down and held his spear firmly as he smiled sisnterly and observed Kain. [B] "Your very resiliant. You are fun, well come on. Hit me some more, you did very well with parrying tip to tip. Now show me some more, theres no time to waste."[/B] Kain huffed and puffed, summing what strength he had and brought his arm across his body and his polearm up. Standing in the spartan phalanx position as if he was born in it, he waited for what was to come. He couldn't move or else he would collapse, all he coudl do was wait for the next attack to attempt to aprry once more. The man took this oppurtunity, standing up and readied his spear. Kain stood at the ready, feeling weak and tired. But going to let himself rest until he knew he had held this man off long enough for the other to recover. [B] "Come on! Show me what you can do against a Spartan!"[/B] Kain yelled without realizing what he had spoken aloud. He stood waiting for the next attack, hoping to not collapse, and that he wouldn't die just yet.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]OOC: Anyone can jump in and fight him, or you can continue to watch Kain fight in the Spartan Phalanx style. Your choice. :animesmil [/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Oni was listening barely and very uninterested at the beginning of the meeting, but through out the time that they were told of an impending war. His interest grew, along with his worry and concern. None of these emotions or thoughts passing over his face, it remained blank and dispassionate about everything and everyone, even when the Genin looked at him to see if he was had taken back and scared as the rest of them. Oni waited at the end of the hearing for the Jounin to leave, then slowly started his leave. His chain rattiling and make his leave very obvious, dispite his usually attitude about drawing attention to himself. He could feel several eyes following him, watching every step he made and listen carfully to every rattle of every link, regardless of whether they wanted to listen or not. He exited within a few moments and was out in the village. Not jumping from roof to roof, not moving inhumanly fast anywhere. He just walked, his hands in his pockets and his lone eye watching the way he went. Making the correct calcuations to avoid people and not run into anyone, while also observing the beauty of the village, remembering what he would be fighting for and letting it all burn into his mind to forever remind him that this village was worth fighting for. No matter what the cost. No matter what was demanded of him. He continued his walk, walking until he reached the outter part of the village. The part of the village that lay a few shops, Oni strolled up to one, walking in casually and up to the merchant. The merchant smiled warmly at Oni, Oni came to this shop every week always buying the same thing. He stopped at the counter and bowed his head to the merchant, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a little bit of money, just enough to get him what he needed. The merchant took it and handed Oni a small tin box, Oni grabbed the box and bowed once more to the merchant then left. He walked away form the shop, away from the village filled with people who were on the verge of mass hysteria and panic. Oni disregarded everything that was going on around him, only focusing on his goal. To reach the graveyard that was placed away from the village, he entered and walked around the graves as he was finding the msot direct path. Being vary carful not to disrespect anyone. He soon found what he was looking for and got down on both knees, closed his eye and bowing his head a little. Then brought it back up and pulled out the tin bos he had picked up earlier and removed the lid. He then pulled out two incense and a single match from the box, then set it down. He lit the incense and looked at the grave markers. He placed one in the dirt next to one graver marker, then did the same for the other. He read the marker once more, like he did every time. But this time, he read it aloud. [B] "Here lies Kanpaku, Mizu, loving wife and mother. May her soul find peace and paradise in the after life, and may her loved ones remember for who she was and for what she did to protect her family."[/B] Oni's gaze shifted fluidly to the other grave marker, he read ir aloud as well. [B] "Here lies Kanpaku, Kaji, loving husband and father. May the village remember his contribution and passion in serving the village and giving his life for his cause. May his soul find peace and paradise in the after life."[/B] Oni shifted his gaze from one to the other, trying to remember what he could of them. He remembers that he was far to young to lose someone, especially both of his parents to meaningless death. He shook his mind of what had happened, and let the anger fade away. He knew the anger would destroy him if he let it, he knew it would consume his soul and change him into a mindless killing machine.He desired nothing of the sort, so he said his usual prayer and then kissed the tips of his fingers on his left hand and placed them on the grave markers. [B] "I will make you both proud, and not let my hatred consume me. Nor will I fail to protect this village you both loved so much, I will fight until there is no longer a breath in my body. I love you both, goddbye for now. I hope to return to you both. Alive or not."[/B] He then withdrew his hand and grabebd the tin box, replacing the lid and stuffing into his pouch. He stood up and walked from the graveyard, as soon as he was outside of it, he vanished. Racing through the trees to the village, racing from roof top to roof top to the stadium where he became a Chuunin. He reached it quickly and effortlessly. He stood on the streets and entered the stadium, wondering if anyone had arrived before him. When he entered he found Tsunade-baasan already there, with a few Jounin. Oni figured that the rest would arrive soon, he walked up to Tsunade-bassan and bowed before her with his arms at his side. "I hope I prove to be useful in this war." Oni said with his dead and dispassionate tone, he then stood up straight and walked a bit away from her and sat down to the left of the door with his legs crossed and his hands placed in his lap. He closed his eye and started to mediate. Awaiting the arrival of the rest.[/SIZE] [SIZE=1]OOC: Hope this is a decent post.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Sorry I didn't clear that up, it is before, way early. That was my fault, I will make my post clearer in the future[/SIZE] [SIZE=1][B]EDIT:[/B] Also, I will make the time lapses better then I did in the recent post[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]The sun was clear in the sky, even if it was being broken into slivered streams by the clusters of leaves that hung from the trees with a lush green color that reflected only a small fraction og natures true beauty. The forest birds chirped and made there different sounds, the creatures on the forest floor scurried and ran about, all trying to survive to the next day. To support there children and themselves, nothing interrupted this cycle this day. The only odd sound was the unsettiling rattle that echoed through the empty forest. The rattle that followed Oni everywhere, it was the only sound he could trust, and yet be betrayed by at the same time. Oni had his hands in his pockets, his face was forward and his lone eye was set forward. Not staring harshly but sort of relaxing to take in the full view of the beauty and magnificance around him that welcomed him with open arms. He treaded softly and slowly through the forest, letting the silence melt into his very core and absorb him. He stopped dead and pulled his hands from his pockets, stretching out his arms and closing his eye and pointing his face to the sky. In that instant, that very moment, a small smile cresed his face. Barely extending the corners out, but enough to be noticable on Oni's face. He was soon interrupted by the very faint noise of a twig snapping, with that sound Oni instanstly disappeared and remained dead still and silent as he watched carfully with his single, all seeing eye. He noticed a figure, a barely discernable image that vanished the second it was seen. Oni reached up with his right arm and grabbed his chain, letting the rattle that emminated from it echo loudly. Right away, the figure lunged for him, seeming to come from all sides. Oni quickly evaporated from his position and tugged at his chain. Releasing it from the wrapping aorund his body and letting it extended fully. He swung it effectively and swiftly, not letting the sheer length hinder his skills. The weight of his chain snagged one of the figures and locked around it. Oni then swung the chain around him in a full circle, making it spin fast enough to provide a sort of shield from outside attack. The figure wrapped in the chain soon vanished in a puff of smoke, this gave the distinct look of a clone jutsu. Oni quickly reeled in his chain and made the dragon head release, he then slowly began to rotate his chain to his side as he looked around for anymore images that would assult him. His eye was focused and searching every corner and inch of the forest laid before him for any unnatural movement. At the last moment, he saw a glimpse of moment when he was then assult from every side at once. Several images attacking at once with full force, Oni swung the chain with a ferocity that showed only a small bit of his true animal nature. Eliminating several clones, but not enough, he was quickly overwhelmed and was forced to use his trade mark jutsu. He quickly signed with his hands and growled under the weight of the clones. [B] "Astral Walk Jutsu!" [/B]And in a moments time, he was gone, the pile falling flat on there faces and then standing quickly, all of them searching furiously to find the escaped Chuunin. The rattling from Oni's chain echoed around the clones that readied themselves to finish this youngster off. Oni watched from his astral plain, looking for the oppurtune moment to strike and to eliminate more clones. He waited patiently, while continusly moving to continue the errie noise of his chain. After a few moments he spotted his moment and lunged for it. Leaping from one of the trees, holding several kunia and shurkiens in his hands and unleashing them in swift, fluid motions then sent them raining down on several clones. He then brought his chain up and threw the dragon head into one clone and let the jaws clamp down on the clones chest and yanked the dragon head back as the clone vanished. He landed in the middle of the rest of the clones and swung his chain once more in a full circle, taknig out knees forcing the clones ot the ground. He was about to smash one clone in the head with the spike when a kunai came up to his throat. Oni lowered his arms and let his chain dangle as he relaxed his muscles and stood up straight with his head held high. He felt the point of the kunai start to pull him towards his assaliant. He willing turned with the weapon and looked into the face of the Jounin that was obviously better and more skilled then he was. He saw the clear face of the Jounin Neji-sensei, and the kunai that was held firmly in his hand. Neji withdrew his kunai and Oni bowed his head with a fist in a open hand held out in front of him. Neji bowed his head to Oni. [B] "You really are worthy of the title Chunnin Konpaku Oni. Even considering your rather young age."[/B] Oni bowed once more and brought himself back up straight. [B] "You flatter me Neji sensi. I just practice like I am suppose to, no better then anyone else."[/B] Neji let out a chuckle as Oni kept his eye focused on Neji. [B] "Modest until the end. That is enough training for today, I must be going. I have an important meeting to attend. Don't get into any trouble Oni."[/B] Oni nodded his head and Neji vanished into thin air, Oni picked up his chain and wrapped it around himself once more before vanishing himself. He contiuned throught forest, enjoying the silence and tranquility as he neared the village. Oni figured if there was an important metting, that must mean something interesting was going on. He would find out in due time, but, until then, he should see how his former cell mates were. He soon entered the village, jumping from rooftops to rooftops seeing what was happening in the village that would cause so much excitment. He stopped on top of a building and look in the streets as he saw people the the Sand village walking around, looking like refugees. Oni could tell that was the case, he wasn't sure why they would be here. But they were here for a reason, and only time would tell. Not far from his postion, he saw three genin standing on a building furhter off. He knew two of them, Ichiro his cell mate who always tried to buddy up to him. He didn't mind it, he just didn't want to treat him any differently then anyone else. The other was Kuro, an associate he had worked with several times. Him and his brother. Oni watched as he tried to figure out who the girl was in there little group, but gave up soon when he decided he would just go to them. Oni disappeared and reappeared on the building they were, standing behind them as he looked over there shoulders. [B] "Interesting view we have here, isn't it."[/B] Oni said blantanly and in his dead tone as he continued to look over the edge as they looked up at him with a surpised look.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Kain watched in a sort of horror as people collapsed around him. He had kept his emotions from being evident but he could still feel this encroching terror creep into his skin and up his body, like an infection that coursed through his veins. Threatening to take over his entire being and to never let go, a cold feeling clawing its way into his gut and gripping tightly, not going to let go anytime soon. What truly seem to bring everything to a realization was to see Claudia collapse as well. He thought of her as very beautiful and was rather concerened for her. He started walking over to her to see if he coudl bring her out of it when he stopped dead in his tracks. Everything started out with a light shift in the earth, losing his balance for a moment then regained his composure. But, soon enough, everything started to spin, slow at first but slowly gaining speed and gave no sign of slowing down anytime soon or giving in. Soon, the spinning forced Kain to his knees, his face pointed to the ground and his breathign geting harsh and rather erradic. His eyes opened wide, the aviators had fallen off which revealed his hawk eyes, with there hazel color intensifying. His pupils constricting forcing his eyes to focus harder, small beads of sweat began to develop on his face and body. Kain stayed on his hands an knees for a few more moments. He felt the earth stop moving, he felt that everything wasn't spinning anymore and that everything was calming down around him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, he then started to stand up while exhaling and taking in another breath. Calming himself down enough where he could think straight and react properly if need be. He slowly opened his eyes and his eyes widened without his face reacting at all. He was no longer in the gardens, but in a desolate wasteland, one of fire erupting from the ground and spewing into the air and sky. The sky itself was blood red with the same colored moon hanging ideally, as if it was an eye watching him. Kain looked around as the terrain continued to erupt around him, showing how unforgiving it was. Kain kept turning in circles, trying to find a way out, trying to find a means of escape from this level of hell he had managed to fall into. Kain was about to risk getting brunned by running past the erupting fire when it all suddenly stopped and died down. His eyes continuesly searching and surves. He uddenly stopped dead as he caught a glimps of something and then is disappeared. He then felt its presence, the presence directly behind him. He turned around smoothly and calmly, only to find a hulking figure towering over him. Its stance was tall and unforgiving, confident and menacing. A cold, metal mask covering the beings face from Kains sight. Even though he was a little more preoccupied with the being features, its well defined and large muscles and the way its form was structured, as if it was built for battle and war. To easily take a spear head to the chest and just break it off and continue forward without thinking twice. His skin was a variation of every green and black possible, with a slightly slimy and rough texture with clawed fingers that well outsized any adult Kain had ever seen. Its dreadlocks hung over its shoulders, even though they looked hard and nothing like hair, it still was. Kain looked down to its feet and saw clawed toes as well with a consderable amount fo scars placed randomly on its body. Giving the impression it was in battle before. The tribal armbands and legbands certinaly add to the effect. Kain then heard a voice, echo through his mind with a hollow tone. [B] "Welcome Kain. I hope you are enjoying your stay. I know this place is very, wats the word,"[/B] The creature moved its hand in a poetic manor, which seemed impossible for it, [B]"Repulsive and terrofying. But, you get use to it."[/B] Kain stared at the being with hard eyes, trying to not let this creature believe he was scared or weak. [B] "What is this place, and who are you?"[/B] The being let out a vocal chuckle, sounding rough but still powerful with the resonating tone, its face pointing to the blood red sky, then coming back to Kain. Its head slightly tilting to look him over. [B] "This place is my home, and you will find out about me soon. But, for now. I must let you become better aquainted with your new, abilities. Hope you enjoy the gifts I give you."[/B] The creature turned around and staretd to walk off, it got about three steps away when it turned back aorund and walked up to Kain again. [B] "Oh, I almost forgot. Here's a, physical gift. From me, to, me."[/B] The being took one of its clawed fingers and jabbed it into Kains chest, he groaned and looked down at it as the being pulled his clawed finger out and stepped back. Kain fell to his knees and placed his hands right on the spot of his chest, he then opened his hands to see the blood pooling in them, then it staretd to take shape, the shape of a small rod that was protruding from his chest. He grabbed it with his right hand and slowly began to pull. The pain coursed through him as he pulled it out, he did everything he could to ignore it as he started to use two hands to pull out the rod. He continued to pull until the rod stopped, which was about five feet long itself, when he saw a piece of a razor sharp edge appearing, he then continued to pull. The edged slowly revealing itself as he drew it out more, soon enough he saw three spikes on the opposite side of the razor edge and at that point, he yanked it out and roared in pain as he breathed heavily and harshly. He then looked at the weapon in hand and saw that it had a sort of hooked edge then continued with the edge, around the pointed tip over to the other side until it touched the three spikes. Kain then looked to where the being stood and heard its deep throated chuckle. [B] "Beautiful isn't it. Well, my young host, I shall see you again when the time comes and we are to fight as one. Until then, I bid you farwell. Kain Cull."[/B] The being disappeared and the whole world he stood in vanished before him and he stood in the garden once more looking around to make sure everything was what he saw it as. He sighed with relief to himself then quickly remebered Claudia, he went to see how she was doing. But much to his suprise, found her well with a new sort of, accessory. He grinned to himself. [B] "She just gets more intriguing as we go. Mabye I should get to know her a bit better."[/B] Kain said to himself as he tightly gripped the glaive in his hand, the dark gray metal cold in his hands. His grin returning as he picked up his aviators and palced them on the top of his head and then walked ot Claudia in his smooth manor. Trying to act like nothing had happened and his glaive was natural, he seated himself next to her and looked at her new accessories with more interest, he thought of the question to ask that would work right. [I] 'Hmmmm, this could more difficult then I thought.'[/I] Kain thought as he kept looking for the right question.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]The day dragged on, longer then normal, but Kain had these days before. The kind of days that seem to last longer then humanly possible, that seem to draw out as much as it could to keep from approching the evening. As is the light was afraid of handing control over to the darkness, even if was ony 12 hours or so. But, Kain didn't let it bother him he just occupied himself with meaningless tasks and sleeping between hours, finding it was very relaxing to be able to nap during the day. He thought about how the school system should bring that back for teenagers, mostly because he liked sleeping over paying attention in English. But, there was one subject that drew his attention today quite heavily this day. It was in history class, it was on a Greek group called the Spartans. He listened closely to this lecture as the details of these people unfolded before him, there history or there politics, there lifestyle entirely based around battle. There daily activities that constantly worked there bodies. What trully fascinated him was how they were raised from birth to be the perfect warrior, fearless, ruthless and learning that death in the battle field was the most glorious thing possible. Kain marveled at this awsome civilization that refused to bow to anyone. He found much of his characteristics, as his friends explained to him, were like the Spartans. There relentlessness, there need to grow stronger, there sheer power and mind set was enough to inspire anyone to live like them. Then, the teacher came to one particular battle that showed the Spartans full potential and attitude. The Battle of Thermopylae , a hand full of Spartans against the mighty Persian army, what made the battle even more spectacular was it was three hundred spartans, against the thousands of thousands of persians that swelled the ranks. But of course, the spartans had back up, if you could call it that. They handed weapons to the farless capable Thespians and Thebans, even though the Thespians stayed willingly, the Thebans were reluctant to. While the Spartans, held there heads high and refused to back down when the Persians had managed to cross into Greek territory through betrayal. The Thespians and Thebans surrendered after Leonidas was killed in battle. But, the Spartans refused to give in and slew as many as they could, before there final stand when the Persians rained arrows down upon them. Kain had listened to this lecture intently, remembering every detail and letting it soak in. He was a bit angry that the Thespians and Thebans had just given up on the Spartans and thought of them has cowards. He leaned back in his seat as that final bell rang and he left quickly and rather quietly; his binder under his left arm and he was thumbing through his music collection as he dodged and avoided people. He stopped when he found the perfect song for his current mind set. He quickly tapped the button and listened to the soothing piano playing at the beginning of the Nine Inch Nail song Just Like You Imagined. Listening to each key closely; they somehow sturring his insides, getting all his aggresion and frusteration to ther surface. Then its quick yet, rythmic change to the drumming and metal consistency. Walking slowly to the front of the school, smiling to himself as he looked out the doors through his aviators. Pushing through the door into the outside world, he looked around to see a decent crowd of people and the senior off to his left side. He walked down the steps and over to the crowd, pushing through people into the center; where a nice area was set for Kain and his opponenet. Kain calmly placed his things on thr ground, removing his sunglasses and putting down his head phones and ipod. Kain then began to stretch, pulling his arms across his body and bending voer ot touch his toes, getting as much flexibility as he could get out of these simple stretches. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders a few times before he heard a satisfying pop. Then cracked his neck by leaning it left and then right, he shook his limbs one last time and readied himself. The senior looked a little irritated but waited anyways. [B] "All ready when you are."[/B] Kain said bluntly as he just remained standing straight with arms down. The senior broought his hands up and balled them into fists, then slowly approched Kain. In a split second he lashed out with one fo his fists, Kain narrowly avoiding it by leaning out of the way. Kain brought his hand up and smacked him square in the jaw with an open hand. Causing him to turn his head every so slightly, and his eyes opened with a little bit of suprise. He backed up and rubbed his face a little.[B] "What kind of a panzy hit was that?"[/B] Kain just shrugged witha goofy face. [B] "Not really a hit, felt like given ya a little smack before I actually hit you."[/B] The senior growled and swung again, this time swinging once then swinging instantly afterwards. Kain barely dodging the first and second blow and then brining two fingers up and poking them straight into this throat then drawing back and swiflty planting a kick to his chest, leaving a nice show print of dirt on his shirt. The senior fell back, coughing a little and trying to get the air back. He sat up and started to speak through gasps. [B] "What kind of cheap move was that?"[/B] Kain grinned. [B] "Its called reflex, try getting some then mabye we will try this again."[/B] Kain picked up his sunglasses and his things and walked away through the crowd. Grinning to himself as he made his way home, confident in himself and his new found knowledge of the amazing Spartan race. OOC: Just to state to any Thespians or Thebans out there, I am extremely biased on the Battle of Thermopylae since I am myself Spartan. So I just want to apologize to anyone head of time and just in case. You never know.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]Hey, this looked really interesting and I figured I would give the artist who made my Avatar and banners rp a chance. I put some time and effort into this but there are always ways to change it, please don't hesitate to tell me. [B]Name:[/B] Konpaku Oni [B]Age:[/B] 14 [B] Gender:[/B] Male [B]Appearance:[/B] [url=http://www.animevisions.net/Pictures/guys/guys90.jpg] [B]Oni[/B]. [/url] Oni's usual attire consists of somewhat lose fitting forest green pants that allow for him hide the weights underneight. His sleeveless shirt is almost ptich black with that japanese symbol for Wrath running down his chest, he also wears a jacket as well witht he symbol for his village in the upper left corner along with the head ban strapped around his forehead. [B]Alliance:[/B] Mist [B]Rank:[/B] Chuunin [B]Personality:[/B] Oni is a hunter in every sense of the word. He is abnormally patient for someone of his age, quite when the time comes for him to be. Ever observant and calculating his next strike, never worrying about his opponents next move. He is also very aggressive, very dangerous and very brutal. He has little to no mercy for his prey, for if you let your guard down while on the hunt, you become the hunted. But, his personality can also shift, if ever so slightly. Since he usually keeps a straight face, you can sometimes view, on rare occasions, the hint of smile or grin. And this comes from the part of him that enjoys the very area around him. Enjoying the everyday things that people regularly take for granted. And that is when you can see his ever illusive smile and view into the kinder, softer side of his being. But, his harsher, more sadistic side shows when it comes to his hunting; he has a twisted sense of justice. Treating crimes in a cold way, if one is committed you deserve no second chance, only punishment. He is initially feared in secret by many for his rumored ways, only he really knows what he does, and how he does it. [B]Equipment:[/B] Oni has no real need for many tools of the ninja trade, but he does have a kunai belt around each thigh only holding about 4 each. A pouch with shurikens on his belt, a spool of nearly invisible string and a couple of bells that are well wrapped up to avoid making noises while he moves. [B]Main Weapon/Technique:[/B] Oni?s technique and fighting style are a direct reflection of his name, which translates out to ?Ghost Demon.? And how it reflects it is how he uses quick moves with a special chain he has on him, utilizing weights (Much like Rock Lee) strapped to his forearms and his shins up to about mid thigh. Passing over his knee caps as well to continually strengthen them to support all the weight of course, the weights are not unreasonably heavy. Just enough to boost his speed and agility when they are removed, and because of his quick moves and his rather, unique jutsu known as Astral Walk Jutsu. He can stalk his prey without being seen or detected until he is within striking distance. The only thing that makes him known to anyone when he is coming is the unsettling rattle of his chain as he takes every step. Which sometimes sets his prey into a panic, or causes them to prepare, either way, he doesn?t let that hinder him. Now, the chain that gives him away as he moves is his key weapon. The chain itself is dull and rather rugged looking. The ends of this chain are the parts that make the chain his most effective and deadly weapon. One end of his chain has slender, wicked looking dragon head with its mouth wide open. And on the other end, it?s a round spike that has an extremely sharp point. The Dragon head has an interesting mechanism inside of it. There is a slightly protruding tongue there is highly sensitive to the slightest touch, and when the tongue is triggered, the mouth clamps down and doesn?t release unless Oni touches a certain spot on the head with pinpoint accuracy. He also tends to use the ultra-sensitive dragon head to clamp down on his chain and use the chain as a means to capture his prey. Oni has one final move that requires a bit more concentration and for his prey to be within arms reach and to look into his eyes for ten seconds or more. It?s called Demon Ghost Eyes Jutsu; this instills paralysis and delusions of terrible nightmares into the being. Allowing Oni to deal with them in anyway he wants. Which could be a variety of slow and brutal ways, depending on what his prey has previously done and if they deserve it. But, because Oni is quick and agile, he lacks in frontal assaults. Even though he could stand against an attack against one maybe two enemies, if he is assaulted by someone of superior strength and brought down he stands no fighting chance. So, he relies heavily on his speed, and when weights are removed, he is almost impossible to catch. This makes him rather formidable. [B]Biography/Writing Sample:[/B] The forest was quiet; nothing unnatural could be detected in this empty land of tall trees and brush everywhere. The bugs clicked and scratched lightly, barely noticeable to anyone listening, the night birds flying swiftly and soundless, the occasion screech echoing from there beaks was the only sign that they hinted at the fact they were out stalking in the darkness. Another Chuunin was running through the darkness, his face streaked with sweat and dirt, a frantic and desperate look imprinted on it. His breathing was heavy as he continues to jump from tree to tree, trying to escape something, escape that horrible sound that followed him. That stalked him in the darkness, the sound that couldn?t be seen or detected. A heart retching sound that always sounds like it is closer then it was a moment earlier, never getting quitter, never failing to catch him and show him how close he was getting. How close the hunter was getting to him, to catching him and punishing him for the crime he had committed. He viewed he had done nothing wrong, only what he was suppose to do, what he was trained for. Trained to carry out whatever mission that was told to him, but his hunter, refused to see it that way. He saw it as he had committed a horrible act, which he had done something terrible and immoral that he needed to suffer. So the Chuunin ran, trying to stay ahead of the terrifying rattle that pursued him. Eventually, his continual fleeing succeeded in evading his stalker. The rattling slowly faded and then was gone completely, the Chuunin finally slowed down from his radical pace to a complete stop. Resting on the tree trunk as the breathing was harsh and ragged, his eyes closed and his thoughts drifting off to sleep as he tried to relax. Believing he had escaped his persistent pursuer, he let his limbs go limp as he left all the now sore muscles recover from over exerting then on his flight when he couldn?t win the fight. His thoughts drifted back to the fight, to the hard to see, to keep up with. All he could clearly remember was that unsettling rattling sound and dragons gapping jaws. As the young Chuunin relaxed his nerves and calmed himself, things and noises around him began to clear up and now belong to certain forms of wildlife, the nocturnal beings of the forest, the forest that belong to the Village Hidden in the Mist. He let his eyes close and rest as he let the soothing sounds of the forest lull him to sleep as he went over his escape from death. Or, so he thought, from out of the darkness and the silence he heard an awful sound. A sound that instilled terror and fear when heard, because it almost certainly meant death for any who heard it. And what emerged from the blackness was enough to cause the Chuunin to freeze in his position in terror. From out of the pitch of dark, a form was shaped, the shape of a humanoid that slowly took on a more defined shape. The shape of a man, no, a teenager. But, his posture and confident stance gave the impression of someone older then they really were. Oni kept his face straight and kept his single eye on his prey, the patch covering his right eye was hard to see in the darkness but his silver hair gleamed in the moon light that filtered through the tree tops now. His dark face was focused on the Chuunin in front of him, his chain wrapped around his body in a diagonal pattern, with three rows of dull chain showing as it was around his left shoulder. Oni looked into the chuunin?s eyes dead on, his eye was unforgiving, and had that effect of looking like it was ever watching. Like it could see into the very soul of the poor Chuunin before him, Oni brought his right hand to his chain and gave it a small tug; it then unraveled and laid itself along the trunk. Oni kept his stare on the other as he quickly whipped the chain, sending it out with the dragon mouth swiftly wrapping around the Chuunin and clamping down tightly on the chain. He tugged it once more and brought the Chuunin closer to him, within arms reach. He then brought up one hand and fluidly did quick hand motions; this made his eye go black entirely and sent a force into the Chuunin, rocking his head back as the paralysis set in. Shortly afterwards, the illusions set in, producing horrible images of dead, rotting, mutilated corpses and monsters of unspeakable and indescribably terrible faces and disfigured bodies. Oni took this opportunity to hang him up by sticking the spike into the tree and letting him hang, Oni waited for a bit before the paralysis and delusions disappeared and the Chuunin came back to consciousness. When he did, he found Oni a few feet away from him crouching on the ground, waiting for his prey to become aware of him. He stood up when he noticed that he was awake and approached him; he stood near him as he lightly pushed his body, making him sway from the chain. Oni spoke in a clear and dead tone to the Chuunin. [B] ?There is a reason why you dangle from this tree, care to take a guess why you are here??[/B] The Chuunin just stared at him as Oni began to circle around him slowly, letting his lone eye drift from his surroundings to the teenager hanging from the tree. He shook his head and Oni answered for him. [B] ?It?s because of your ill tempered ways, and your reckless behavior towards your fellow students. Especially the one that you brutally beat to a pulp and what makes it even worse, is that you beat a woman. Yes our women are strong and can handle themselves, sneaking up on them and savagely abusing them is dishonorable in all instances. And now, I hope you enjoy what you?ve got coming to you.?[/B] Oni then produced a kunai and held it up to where his feet were, the Chuunin looked harder and saw a nearly invisible piece of string. Oni was about to sever it when another form appeared from the brush, it was a Jounin teacher. Oni looked him up and down with his left eye. Then replaced the kunai back into his thigh holster and bowed his head to the Jounin teacher. [B] ?What are you two doing out here? Explain yourselves!? [/B]Oni brought his head up and spoke in his dead tone. [B] ?I was just, administrating my brand of justice, Sensei.? [/B]The Jounin had a scowl on his face. [B] ?Not this again Oni, release him immediately and then let him return to his Sensei.? [/B]Oni turned to hanging Chuunin and struck the dragon head with a graceful and effortless move, the head released and the Chuunin fell to the ground. He quickly took off and Oni grabbed his chain and yanked it from the tree, then threw it over his shoulder, letting it wrap round his body in a diagonal pattern once more. The Jounin beckoned him toward her, he obeyed willingly, and she looked at him with a frustrated face and hands on hips. [B] ?What were you planning to do Oni??[/B] Oni let his eye drift upwards, to a nearby tree and she looked as well. Seeing three neat rows of kunai and shuriken lined up. The kunai handles stuck in the tree and the points protruding outward, she shook her head and looked back down at him. [B] ?You were going to release him into those??[/B] Oni nodded. She exhaled heavily. [B] ?You can?t do this to other students; it is not the right way to deal with them or proper in anyway. You only kill if you need to, or, if you are sent to do it.? [/B]Oni bowed before her. [B] ?Yes sensei. I will try to control myself better.? ?Lets go, we still have more training to do.? [/B]His Jounin sensei turned her back and vanished, Oni followed shortly after retrieving his kunai and sherukins. Letting the rattle of his chain echo behind him as the sun was peaking over the horizon. [B]Extra Notes:[/B] Oni is generally feared by the lower class to current class, very, very few upper class man even know him let alone fear him. So he keeps things to himself and he is a moderate to heavy user of Taijutsu, mostly with his chain and some Genjutsu and Ninjutsu that aid him greatly in his silent/hunter tactics. Also "Friends" with Hizen Shirosai and Hizen Kurosai Even though Oni acts cold and doesn't really show affectionto anyone, he respects all, treating them with a bow, regardless of whether they are better then him or not which usually puts him on a nuetral bases with anyone he comes in contact with.[/SIZE]