The Harlequin

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: This is going to be very, very painful. Shalistrae: Isn't that the idea? Ilmiwyrth: I hereby renounce my ability to speak. Lifé: But not to make other noises right? Ilmiwyrth: GOD DAMN IT! [i]He started running. Rather fast. Not that anyone had trouble keeping up, but it was certainly an increase in pace. The only question was whether Ilmiwyrth was in a hurry to get to the tavern...for whatever reason....or just trying to escape.The grim look on his face wasn't doing a lot to make it clearer.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth groaned. This really was falling apart around him.[/I] Ilmiwryth: I think I'll just tie myself to at tree... Lifé: Please, be my guest. Ilmiwyrth: I didn't mean it like.....damn it! Now you've got me thinking in innuendos. Lifé: As I remember, that's not very different from before. Ilmiwyrth: Yeah,but this time they're more personal. Lifé/Shalistrae: Do tell. Ilmiwyrth: Alright, fine. I will from now on not resists all your strange, assuredly perverted fantasies. Lifé: That's nothing to do with what we asked. Ilmiyrth: I know that. I was hoping false capitulation would off-balance you enough for me to make a quick escape. Lifé: Then [i]I'd[/I] tie you to a tree.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth, rather theatrically, tripped. And turned his ankle. He lay only a moment before dragging himself to his feet, testing his ankle, and announcing quite happily he could hobble along perfectly fine. Vichante gave him a look of pure amusement, and kept walking. Ilmiwyrth gratefully fell to the rear of the column, where he could easily keep an eye on everyone. He wasn't sure he trusted Vichante and Shalistrae behind him anymore. Or Lifé. But that was more of a "anywhere near him" basis, rather than just behind him, It occured to him at that point to wonder they trusted him behind them. No matter. They'd live. Whether he would was debatable.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Lifé: Pity you're so predictable in them. Ilmiwyrth:I would have thought you'd prefer it that way. Lifé: That would make it far less interesting. Besides, I don't need to know what choice you'd make in a given situation to be able to control you. Ilmiwyrth: I have this strange, haunting feeling that that is disconcertingly true. [I]Behind him, Vichante sniggered.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: Why me? Lifé: If you'd given in earlier, it would have been easier for you. Ilmiwyrth: With the myriad ways I could construe that statement, I'll take the safe path and ignore it.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]It's normal on OB for rpgs to start with a thread in the Recruitment forum, so that people can see that you have an idea for an rpg running, and can sign up if they wish. These sign-up threads tend to include a storyline, and what you would ask that people list in their sign up; character name, age, a description, a biography, etc. All this is basically a way of making it easier for the rpg creator, as well as getting the rpg recognised at all. This would belong in the Recruitment sub-forum, and when as many people as you want have signed up, you can start the storyline in the Advanture Arena. So, I'll just go take care of that...[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Luci infected you with that idea, didn't she? I would, but I don't really feel like seeming that desperate, [i]regardless[/i] of whether I am or not.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: I haven't decided yet. Quite probably a challenge though. Neuvox: A challenge? Ilmiwyrth: Quite simple, we see who cracks first. [I]He smiled broadly, revealing fangs at least an inch long, and placed his surprisingly graceful, for all its talons and bizarre length, on her thigh. Contrary to all but the slightest of suspicions, Neuvox didn't flinch.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: That was surprising. [I]He removed his hand anyway, despite not getting a reaction. Neuvox graced him with a slight smile.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: Feeling happy with yourself? Neuvox: You might be surprised.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Indrid, for all his previous assertations that he didn't want a crappy self-discovery thing going was, seemed more than willing to use it as an excuse to go get himself killed. Qyrain didn't have that problem. He'd get himself killed without an excuse. Dragella didn't seem to have any problem with it. Unanimous. Time to go kill ourselves. Qyrain was fairly certain, fully certain actually, that that fiend had not been his father. In main because it had attacked him at all, but secondly because Qyrain was quite certain there would have been a level of auric recognition present if he had been. Qyrain was jolted out of his reverie by the sudden knowledge that the closer they came to their assailant, the more minor demons they were likely to encounter. Most likely not in great numbers yet, but it only took a few score to kill them....[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Lifé: It certainly wasn't my idea. Ilmiwyrth: That's been quite well established. Since the directions you mentioned encompassed north, south and west, I assume this tavern is east? Lifé: Well, actually not. It is north of here. Ilmiwyrth: Contrary natured fiends... Vichante: You seem to be taking it surprisingly well. Ilmiwyrth: Doesn't mean I have to like it. Vichante: Isn't that kind of inherent though? Ilmwiyrth: .... [i]After that long moment's silence, Ilmwiyrth simply started walking. There wasn't really much else he could do this time around.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth turned to Vichante, cutting off whatever he was going to say.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: Don't say it. Shalistrae: A little jealous? [I]Ilmiwyth tossed a wry raised eyebrow at Lifé, and retorted in good humour.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: What makes you think I have reason to be? Vichante: You're still standing. Ilmiwyrth: .....Point. Lifé: Besides, Shalistrae knows very well that I have better taste. [I]Profoundly outgunned, for once, Ilmiwyrth sighed, and turned away. [/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Neuvox: You're [I]my[/i] half Shadow-baalor, and I have no intention of sharing you with anyone. Ilmiwyrth:Look again. It's not me she's staring at. [I]Neuvox gave him a long look. Then looked back at the woman. Then quite calmly looked back at Ilmiwyrth.[/I] Neuvox: Now how did you know that? Ilmiwyrth: Because before you came in she had the audacity to ask me if I was female. Neuvox: I won't ask how that mistake could be made. Ilmiwyrth:Wise decision. North west....I have no idea. So I won't say anything. Neuvox: Just enjoy your drink. [I]Ilmiwyrth had every intention of doing that. Interestingly enough, Neuvox didn't move either. Tankard in his hand, woman on his leg....He was fitting in with these mortals quite nicely....[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth stretched his shoulders, and muttered to himself.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: You do a wonderful job of making it sound like a threatening incentive. [I]He gathered what few items he had with him and left, easily finding his way to the door he was looking for. He debated the merits of a few different tactics to open it, but decided that, all things considered, mainly the fact that he was unlikely to return, the direct approach would be best. He leant back, and kicked the latch one. Then the door. It splintered rather than fell, so he kick the top half and then axed his foot down, effectively clearing it. He walked in.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: Sorry to interrupt, but apparently it's high time we.... [I]He looked around the room, eyebrows raised. [/I] Ilmiwyrth:...wow... [I]He looked at a rather irritated Vichante, muttered something about Lifé being north of here, and left. He wasn't quite sure what exactly had happened in there, but it certainly must have taken a while, and was probably very, very strange.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth, who had yet to get up, looked at her in a fashion that quite clearly conveyed he certainly had no intention of doing anything to the contrary. He looked at her a moment longer, still somewhat disgruntled, then smiled pleasantly at her. Remembering his former antics, she backed away. Didn't save her. He slid forward, wrapped his legs around her waist, and raised himself up, throwing her onto the bed, her face hitting the pillow. He held in place while he stood up, and sat down on the bed next to her. Calmly holding her down with one hand, fending off angry swipes with the other. When he at last let her up, she turned to face him, more annoyed than angry.[/I] Lifé: Are you simply going to act like an elder brother every time I annoy you? Ilmiwyrth: I haven't decided. Tormenting you when you make me get up seems well justified though. And besides, it's not like you didn't just run in here and jump on me. Which was completely uncalled for. Lifé: Not completely. You hadn't gotten up yet. [I]Ilmiwyrth decided that it was quite obvious she wouldn't be able to see that there was a very good reason for that fact, and left it alone.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: So, what was so pressing that you had to physically assult me?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth took a sip. Amontillado, his drink of choice, if he couldn't get Scurrd. But then, the one known substance that could get him drunk wouldn't be the best choice. He rolled it through his mouth. Rather crude, all things considered, but he'd get by without quality for a while. He ordered a few more, then changed his mind and simply asked for a constant supply, reaching under his huge cloak and drawing out a money pouch which he casually left on the bar. The bartender got the hint. Ilmiwyrth drew Neuvox over to a side table, less in public view, and less easily eavsedropped upon.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: So, now would be a good time to tell me where we're going, seeing how I seem to have quite easily attached myself to you, or the other way around.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Unsurprisingly, it was Ilmiwyrth who woke up first. He stayed in bed quite late though, not particularly doing anything except staring at the ceiling. He had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn't get any more interesting, no matter how long he stared at it. That was a hyopthesis he was willing to test. That was the excuse he gave to whoever knocked and asked, anyway. It wasn't anyone he yet knew, so he felt pretty safe with sounding like a fool. Not that he really cared who thought what about him, but saying it to Lifé might provoke a reaction he didn't want, such as forcibly dragging him out of bed, and he didn't want Rinkayum dropping that uninteresting ceiling onto him. Not that he really thought that would happen, but taking chances was making staring at the ceiling more interesting. A time passed. He would have called it something a little more accurate, but he didn't know what time it was, much less how much of it had passed. Which probably meant it was time to get up. He'd deal with that implication later though.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Hmmm. That excuse might work, but claws tends to designate more than one appendage anyway. I believe the term you were looking for is "talons", rather than claws. Oh, and I'll start this in another week or so. *Looks meaningfully at anyone who hasn't signed up yet.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Ilmiwyrth gave the man a rather unconcerned look, and reached out, blindingly fast. The men fell back, quite literally, but not in time to stop Ilmiwyrth from relieving one of the swords. He turned it over in his hands a few times, it appearing nothing more than a large dagger when scaled against his huge form. He calmly ran the blade over his inner forearm. Nothing happened. He gently tossed the sword down, and reached out, holding his fingers above the torch. Again, nothing.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: Certainly, I'll leave you the right to attempt to refuse me passage, but that wouldn't be very prudent, given that evidence. I personally think a better course of action would be to step aside and allow me access to the tavern. NPC2: You expect us to allow a demon to get dunk in our town? Ilmiwyrth: That was almost a relevant point. However, I won't be getting drunk, based on the fact that I can't. Now step aside. [I]They didn't move. Ilmiwyrth sighed, and motioned Neuvox to step away. She watched him warily, uncertain as to whether he was going to cause trouble. All he did was walk forward. Through the men. Neuvox laughed at the expression on their faces. Perhaps having a Shadow Lord for a parent had its uses. Neuvox shrugged to the men, and slipped past them. Ilmiwyrth didn't stop until the tavern, and then only to open the door and re-materialise. There was a moment of dead silence. Then the bartender looked up.[/I] Bartender: Wha' cin I getcha? [I]Everyone turned back to their drinks, unconcerned. Ilmiwyrth had always stood by the idea that alcohol made for better social situations.[/font][/color][/I]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Raiha [/i] [B][COLOR=royalblue]Race: Water dragon, of Imperial blood, [b]five claws/hands,[/b] able to shift freely between the two forms. [/COLOR] [/B][/QUOTE] [color=indigo][font=gothic]You were saying? I did say that I was taking the description off the text. And why are you insulting Qyrain? Scullery maids are certainly not his type. And Raven can kill me anytime she wants, thank you very....wait a minute. Check that.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][i]Ilmiwyrth watched in quiet amusement as Lifé gained control of herself. It took quite a while, and when she finally calmed down, there was still a glint in her eye.[/I] Lifé: Or worst of all, he could have been you... Ilmiwyrth: Now that was well and truly uncalled for. And probably not even correct. Lifé: Oh? Ilmiwyrth: Hey! I'm by no means perfect, but I'm certainly not a manic depressant ex-cleric of darkness with no respect for anything even remotely involving existance. Lifé: What's that got to do with anything? Ilmiwyrth: You'd be surprised. Lifé: I doubt there's anything you could do that would surprise. [I]He shook his head and raised an eyebrow, the smile never fading. He rose slowly, absently stretching.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: Much as I dislike agreeing with him, I believe it would be best if I retired. [I]He left with no particular haste, but he didn't exactly wait around, considering the rather nasty bent of laughter that followed him.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: I'd rather go drink. Would they serve Scurrd there? Neuvox: Do they serve what? Ilmiwyrth: I take it you've never had that particular experience? Neuvox: Is that a bad thing? Ilmiwyrth: Depends on where you prefer to wake up, and how long you prefer it to take before you do so. It's a particular brew made on my plain. Basically, it's everything that could possibly wreck you through into a surprisingly nice taste. For about a second. Then it starts to burn, normally in ways you don't want to know about. Neuvox: Am I stuck with an alcoholic? Ilmiwyrth: What are you talking about? I can't get drunk. Neuvox: Convenient. Ilmiwyrth: So? [i]Ilmiwyrth devoted the next few silent minutes to determining exactly what he would do if the village decided it didn't want a greater baalor inhabiting it. The results probably wouldn't be pretty.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][I]Qyrain looked at Dragella for a long moment, his face grave. He closed his eyes a moment, and when he reopened them, they again were bright white. Small pinpoint black pupils were vaguely visible. Qyrain took a few steps back, the glow increased. He took a few steps forward, closer to Dragella, and the white became cloudy, inky patches roiling in and out of visibility with all the undercurrents of bubbling swamp. Qyrain blinked a few times, and his eyes returned to normal.[/I] Qyrain: Yes, that seems to work. You were indeed the shield. What colour were my eyes back there though? Indrid: Pure white. Qyrain: Then it looks like my parents have some explaining to do. If Dragella had attacked the demon through me, my eyes would have turned cloudy. The shield was a passive effect, so it didn't change my eyes. I don't know about the healing, but it was probably just a side effect. Dragella: I thought something strange was going on, but hey, who wouldn't claim credit. Qyrain: At least you had the decency to be half-right. The problem is though, why the hell am I doing this all a sudden? Indrid: What has that to do with your parents? Qyrain: Simple. My mother was married to my step-father, and I don't know who my real one is. [I]Indrid rolled his eyes.[/I] Indrid: This isn't going to be one of those crappy "I need to run off and find my father because I've got so many insecurities, and then it turns out he's some angel or something". Qyrain: It had better not be, or I won't be happen. Besides, if my father was an angel, he would now be a fallen angel, which means he would be hanging around, and quite probably near me. And I haven't noticed anyone overly bizarre over the last twenty years. Dragella: You probably weren't looking hard enough. Qyrain: True. Who cares. I don't, know that I think about it, really care who my father was. Chances are this is some ingrained human thing rather than the result of an irregular parentage. I don't care why, I just need to learn how to use it. Indrid: How long will that take? Qyrain: I give it a week. Dragella: You're rather confident. Qyrain: No, I just don't have anything better to do. [I]The way he said it didn't seem to inspire a reply. Qyrain sighed.[/I] Qyrain: That was a hint people. Shall we go? Didn't someone want to find some weapons or something?[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ilmiwyrth: How permanent do you think Vichante would allow such a relationship to be? Rinkayum: That depends on how well he knows what is good for him... [I]Ilmiwyrth regarded him with a slightly amused smile on his face, a mere upturning of the corners of his mouth.[/I] Ilmiwyrth: Tell me, should that be construed as "He'd better stay with her", or "He'd better get outta town quick"? Rinkayum: Either way you like. No doubt the end result will be the same. Lifé: Which still doesn't change the fact that it is Shalistrae's choice. Rinkayum: And it's my choice not to like it. Ilmiwyrth: Yeah? Well it's [i]my[/i] choice to....wait, we're not doing that, are we... [I]The sudden trail-off get a few confused looks. But at least it lightened the tension.[/font][/color][/I]

[font=gothic][color=indigo]Ha! It's also a classic example of the person who actually payed attention in Physics, Bio and Chem. And read a few to many books. And besides, who are you to talk of "sad"? This coming from a five-armed water dragon who just [i]happens[/I] to be an empress? Tell me my dear, do we have any insecurities we need to work out? Hehehe. You know you had that coming.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=crimson]Well, I wrote this letter once, to this girl, about how much I liked her and how I was really confused. And I let Raven read it....that was one of the stupidest things I've ever done. That, and trying to kill myself. I've not yet decided which one of the above was worse for me....lol.[/font][/color]

[font=gothic][color=indigo][B]Name:[/B] Qyrain Alethyne [B]Race:[/B] Outsider - Planar Void - Shadow Archon. As stated, a planar creature, though from the area of non-existance that lies basically in the centre of the universe, a planar void that keeps tha various realities from crashing into each other. A Shadow Archon is a collection of negative energies, in essence it is bundled unlife. As it exists as a pure energy state, has no natural physical form. When forced onto the material planes, is forced to shift its energy lanes into alignment with a known signature of positivity in order to continue stable existance, and avoid nullification. One this shift is made, it cannot be realigned, so the Shadow Archon is forced to remain in that physical form until released by death, or until it returns to the void. Qyrain's case is so far unique, and shall be explained later. [B]"Class":[/B] Dervish. The Dervishs were the former elite of The Empire's armies, unmatched in combat, whether against man, beast, magical creature or planar entity. There was no uniformity to them, they were not trained for the post, they were chosen. All that was required was combat ability. This was not as simple as being able to hit something until it fell over, this was everything from tactics, being able to assess an opponent's weaknesses from anatomy to mind set, being able to survive inhuman amounts of damage, to diplomacy and knowing when to avoid a fight. The Dervishs were an indepedent unit, they fought their own battles, with their own weapons and tactics, at their own timing, at their own cost. There was no rank structure in the unit itself other than mutual knowledge of one's comrades abilities; they answered only to two people. Qyrain, the captain of the unit, and the Emperor. And then only sometimes. [B]Bio:[/B] The multiverse. The term given to that various quantum zones, physical, and astral, otherwise known as the planes of reality, that make up what mortals try to sum up as everything. Of course, these physical, semi-physical, or ethereal substantiated entities don't make up everything, but they make up the everything that anything bound by material laws can comprehend or interact with. This reality is too limited to describe what exists externally to it, and this reality is too severely limited to even exist in any kind of parallel state to "everything else". This reality, however, is the quintessence of existance. It is the most primal form of the quantam zones. It could be said that this reality is the heart, the centre, of all existance. And at the centre of this existance, is the very anti-thesis of everything else. A Planar Void, a resistance against everything that exists that fufills neccessary quantam balances. If counters the "gravitational" force that all existance exerts on everything else. This force is exerted due to the fact that everything stems from the same source, and seeks to recalibrate itself into a single "plane". If not for the void in the centre of the Primal Reality, the multiverse exist as a single quantum zone, albeitly one where all things were infinitely and equally possible and impossible. This void then. It exists as dark matter, dark energy. An inverse to everything else. As such, it exerts a negative force equal to the existential-gravitational force exerted by all positive existance. And as positive existance has sentience, so must negative. Qyrain came into being when the multiverse did. He existed a non-static energy, a warp and weft of unlife and unmatter within a realm of unlife and unmatter. It was time uncounted and irrelevant before self-awareness manifested into sentience, but Qyrain grew sentient, and interacted with his surroundings. Interacted with others, in varying degrees of maturity themselves. A form of intelligence results, more a recognizant form of causality than a true mind, but it developed, aided by others and its surroundings. Qyrain came to full intelligence millions of mortal years before The Empire's forebearers had evolved from primitive single celled organisms. The first planets were yet to undergo primary succession. True positive life had yet to come into existance. Qyrain watched, from a metaphorical rather than literal, darkness. He was present as true life unfolded its expansion, he watched with a disinterest born of complete opposition. The others around him, all with their separate identies, watched, and said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. It was outside, outside the fluctuating boundry that marked the void. Then, a shock. Sentience manifested in these living beings. There was debate. There were arguments, for the first time in existance. There were opinions, for the first time in existance. Qyrain watched passively as those around him attempted to find out what to do, or even if anything needed to be done. It was eventually decided that someone would try to enter that realm. Thousands of attempts were made before success, but the number of entities that surrounded Qyrain seemed no less. All who entered the realm were nullified, into true nothingness. At last, an entity realigned itself with the quantum phases of this new realm, and contact was made successfully. These new sentients were unaware of the void, and those that inhabited it. They were harmless, and underwent a phenomenon known as "death", at seemingly random intervals, or upon physical contact with an entity from the void. The outsiders withdrew, quiescent for now. These beings, as well as being sentient, also had a sense of identity. And this was the catalyst for Qyrain. For, out of all the shifting possibilties, a being in the mortal realm came into existance, that Named itself, on a far deeper level than the tag given for recognition among mortals, Qyrain Alethyne. The planar entity watched with interest as it was sucked through to the positive realm. It watched with interest as it melded with the positive version of Qyrain Alethyne, creating a previously unknown phenomenon. Duality. The existance of both life and unlife, positivity and negativity, black and white. Universal perfection perhaps. Qyrain, the planar entity, supplied the mind. The mortal Qyrain supplied the form. Qyrain watched with interest, then sudden concern, as his life unfolded. For new sensations, known to mortals as "emotions" plagued him, and he knew how to deal with them not. Centuries passed, and Qyrain grew accustomed to pain and emotions, and bodily sensation. He noted with interested, and something known as "relief", that he did not succumb to that random end known as "death". At last, the Empire was founded, and Qyrain watched it spread with interest. He joined its army as a form of learning, and found his nature made him an easy match for any being of this realm. Among the hard, perfect warriors known as the Dervishs, with their often wild and raucous ways, Qyrain developed true personality. Duality at last. Now, Qyrain existed as a quasi-mortal, unfettered by any, who exists simply for the wonder of sensation. Any sensation. Pleasure of pain. Qyrain, the planar entity, is yet unsure whether it shall return to the void, and Qyrain, the mortal, is yet unsure whether it wants the entity to. Perhaps, in duality, they have become a symbiote. For in battle, Qyrain has been wounded, and both the physical and the mental have felt the pain and damage. Qyrain has yet to take a blow that would kill the mortal frame, so the effects of one are yet unknown. [B]Description:[/b] Qyrain Alethyne, the mortal, was an archon. A bipedal being, vaguely humanoid in shape. Archons are about seven feet tall, and very slender. Rather than arms or legs, Archons manipulate their body into any required shape, keeping it bound together and functioning through the kinetic energy that is created. This constant energy flux may well have something to do with the duality phenomenon, and may explain why it has to date only happened once. Anyway, so archons, in theory, exist as merely a blob. They extend part of that blob out into an appendage, and manipulate it from there. The ulimate shapeshifter. Qyrain tends to use the form of a human for daily needs, but is known to resort to a lythanoid on occasion. In human form, Qyrain is again seven feet tall, and slender. His skin is almost translucent white. His eyes and hair, which exists on his scalp only, are jet black. That hair falls just past his shoulders. Tends to wear a black and grey leather brigandine, and black pants. [B]Other:[/B] If anything comes up, I'll explain it then.[/font][/color]