RPG The Dragon's Wail

[Doublehex]

The man in black stared from the trees. Behind his skull carved mask of iron, he saw the two. Master and apprentice they were, both summoners. As their titles suggested, Summoners were capable of calling forth creatures from the Elemental and Divine Planes to do their bidding. For decades they would study under their master, and even when they were given the benefit of complete freedom, there was always something else for them to learn.

The man gripped his blade. He was Caine Solverwind, amongst the greatest swordsman of the Empire. There have been few that have ever escaped his blade.

His head turned towards his associates. They were nameless soldiers. Thousands more of them existed. “Let us move,” he said calmly. The scarlet armor clad soldiers nodded. The ring of metal scrapping against their scabbards could be heard. Slowly, they approached their target.

They did not surround the two summoners. The master was a bald man, with a slight beard growing from his chin. A mark was inscribed into his forehead. His student, who stood behind him, had short black hair. He wore a half cut short, giving Caine the sense he was queer.

“You are Caine, of Dugolma.” It was a statement, not a question. The master knew he was being hunted. There was a slight look of surprise on the student’s face; it was obvious the elder man had kept some vital information.

“Copernicus, your life ends here.”

“I’m sure it does.” Copernicus dropped his staff, arcane energy already forming in his right hand. He released bolts of arcane at Caine, but the warrior had already surrounded himself with a shield that would propel said spells. His blade raised, he charged towards Copernicus.

The master looked towards his student. “Live, Garviel.” He raised his hand towards the youth. At once, the student felt something push him away, further and further off of the beaten path. He saw his master cut down in a fatal stroke by Caine.

The masked man looked in the direction the student was sent. “After him,” he ordered. The three soldiers raced in pursuit. Caine looked down at the still bleeding corpse. “A pity. He lived well.”

Caine walked away. He had little to worry about the soldiers. They were well trained, and it wasn’t like the Empire didn’t have thousands more at their disposal.

[CENTER]*[/CENTER]

The hooded man walked through the woods, withered leaves cracking under his boot. A crimson blade was strapped to his back. Despite him not knowing where he was, Malphris had the sense of where he was going.

It all seemed like an odd dream to him.

As he touched the bark of a tree, he heard other footsteps. They were heavy, and out of place. He hid behind the tree, and saw they were soldiers of some kind. They had the mark of Dugolma stitched across their capes. Cautiously, he followed them.

It did not take long for Malphris to find what the soldiers were seeking. The soldiers had surrounded a man, in a half clad shirt. It looked as if he was slammed at the core of a tree, considering the blunt mark on the bark. At his finger tips was an oddly shaped staff. He was unconscious.

If Malphris had not slammed his blade into a nearby tree to alert the soldiers, the man would of have been cut down. The soldiers turned around, a look of confusion on their faces. They obviously did not expect anyone to follow them.

“Move along,” said one of them, likely their leader. His voice was stern, but considerate.

“Kind of hard to do that, when I know that once I turn away, that guy’s going to be cleaved into two.”

“It’s for your own good, boy.”

Malphris licked his lips. “Now, that was a mistake.” He raced towards them, blade in hand. The leader did not expect Malphris to move so suddenly and quickly. His guard was down. Malphris’ blade went through his gut. Blood gushed out as Malprhis pulled it out.

One of them cried as he leaped towards Malphris. He parried the move, and with a gesture of force, pushed the man off of him. He quickly cleaved the man’s right arm off. As the man grabbed his arm, crying and sniveling, Malphris kicked him to the ground.

The last, seeing the opponent was too much, ran off.

Suddenly, Malprhis collapsed into the darkness.

And Garviel woke up at that same moment.

[B]OOC[/B] Okay, so here is the game plan. Engel, have Garviel drag Malphris to the Inn at Yeshova. Everyone else, just describe your character’s entry into Yeshova, or whatever you prefer. Just get your character into Yeshova! I'll get us moving from there.

[Starwind]

It had been three days since Hector had last seen a town. Those damn sentries were on his tail all the time these days. It was getting to be a royal pain, as where it was once kinda funny. The worn tips of Hectors long red coat drug lightly across the ground as he trugged on. He knew he was coming up on Yeshova. It wouldn't be much longer now. Which was a good thing since he was just about out of food and water. If nothing else he needed to stock up on more supplies.

He could see the rather large town off in the distance. Rumors say that they have high security around the town and an outsider like him was not likely to be easily let in. No reason not to peg him for a spy or something. Esspecially considering how he looked, all tatterd rags and a blood stained blade on his back. If he just told them who he was honestly who he was they still might not let him, what with his reputation for causing a commotion wherever he goes. And that wouldn't be completely wrong of them.

Guess that meant he was going to have to sneak inside of this city if he wanted in without a problem. Hector decided to scoope up some older rags from the side of the street and throw them over himself. Then he lie in wait.

Finally he saw, what seemed like another group of refugees coming along. As they marched past, with there road weary eyes, he slowly kinda morphed himself intot he group. In order to keep his sword hidden he had to pretend he had hump on his back and walked kinda slouched. Hector just prayed that the guards paid him no mind, since he still kinda stood out.

And like it was fate, the guards never gave him another look as he wanderd in with the new caravan of refugees seeking shelter in this last oasis. Hector quickly dumped the rags and immediatly wanted to know where the bars were. It had been three days since he left his last town and thus three days since his last beer. He was hurtin somthing bad.

Seemed like there was quite a commotion going on. Maybe those damn Dugolma sentries were on there way. If that was the case then it didn't look like Hector would be staying long. But after he probed about, he learned that some guy coverd in blood had just been carried through the town only a short time ago. That was kinda interesting.

This, however, didn't stop Hector from continuing on with his primary mission: Find a Bar! Hector was thirst, hungry and in desprate need of alchohol.

[Engel]

[color=cornflowerblue][size=1]The world phased in quickly and painfully, rushing back to him with terrible speed. Garviel's eyes snapped open and he gripped Anathema in his fingertips, his lips locked in a grimace as he prepared to face whatever horrible end had pushed him this far. Be it that Caine man, who gave him the quickest sneer from behind his metallic second face. Or his nameless foot soldiers who killed in Dugolma's name. Or perhaps other forces that were at work, unseen and unheard, placing their fingers on chess pieces and moving them towards one end, determined to take the checkmate.

Garviel relaxed. The world was still once again, but felt [i]wrong.[/i] It was then when he realized that his master, Copernicus had been rent down so horribly. Torn down as Garviel could do nothing but flee. His face relaxed into a straight complexion before he frowned and spat on the ground. It was only then did he realize that gore lay across the once viridant green grass that was now stained a vermilion shade. He looked around, using his perceptions to conceive how the fight must of went.

[i]I must of collapsed...against that stupid tree, or was thrown against it. And then someone came by...and stopped them. Stopped them so suddenly. So suddenly and without mercy. It must of been one skilled with a blade to make this much of a mess.[/i] Garviel suddenly felt quite inadequate as he searched the grass for his pen, which had fallen out of his pocket as he'd run. The Summoner's pride was healed significantly by the virtue that his feet's movements had not been his own.

Oblivious of the man passed out in front of him, Garviel laced Anathema to his back and began to walk forward, straight over the passed out body. It wasn't until he turned around to see if he had dropped his notebook did he notice the it. A man lay in the grass, blood speckled across his cloak. Curiously, Garviel reached a hand out and tapped his shoulder, before rolling him over. The man appeared perhaps a little older than himself, and wore simple but effective clothing. In his right hand lay a rather ornate and dazzling blade, drenched with the blood of killers and lapdogs. Garviel stood up straight, sighing and placing a hand on his hip, speaking in a rather misanthropic manner.

[b]"I could leave him here to rot...but he did save my life. I might as well bring him with me. He might be useful later. If not, I can threaten to kill him and take his money. Which is still useful, more useful than I'd been to Copernicus."[/b] Garviel spat bitterly, as he reached down and easily pulled the stranger to his feet, then draped him across his back. He wasn't the type that would steal from others, but Garviel was in need of utmost haste. He had to reach that damnable Tower. For his Master at the most and himself at the least. Slowly, Garviel began to walk to the clearing, and from there, to the road.

The stench of death and stale air was left behind in the thicket trees as a city rose from the gently sloping hills and curves of the land. It had the sweet smell of civilization and people about it, luring Garviel with the passed out savior on his back to the city gates. He was let in without a word or a check, much to his surprise. After a few moments of rest at the front gate, Garviel brought himself to find an Inn to place the man and himself, as much as the city allured him. Reaching into the man's cloak, he picked out enough for two rooms, There was barely any money left after that, and Garviel made a mental note to repay the man before leaving for the Arcane Tower.

Dragging the body into a seat to rest, he sat down on a barstool and ordered a light drink, jangling the money he'd taken with slight interest, watching for any signs of Malphris stirring back to consciousness.[/color][/size]

[Earthworm Jim]

"Dear god lad! Did a blind person pick out your clothes for today?"

A smile crept up on an experienced face behind a bandanna in response to the obvious hypocrisy of the statement. In the dull light of the bar, it would take ones eyes a few seconds to fully materialize a face followed by a body at the opposite end of the bar where the statement permeated out across the room from; where a few run-of-the-mill soldiers sat hunched over their drinks in quiet conversation. Or drunken haze. In response to puzzled looks of newcomers and amused looks of regulars, the character pressed onward in his act. Besides, if the other man couldn't take a joke, well, screw him.

"I jest laddie, I jest." The character said with a splash of laughter. Spinning around to place his foot upon a barrel of ale at the floor, he began making eccentric gestures like that of a gentleman pirate or a stage performer while his accent went from thickly northern to that of a waterlogged mariner.

"Ya see lad, aye be Delago Constantine; tha captain of these here waters", the characters arms pushed forward and separated as if using the sea metaphorically to represent the city. "Aye be manning these waters fer close ta tw'nty yeas now, 'fendin 'em from all loikes of mercenries, soldias, and tha usual sack a verim that comes 'round 'ere." After a harumph from the bar regulars, the character bulged one of his eyeballs and leaned rather close to the man at the bar.

"Ye wouldn't 'appen ta be any of 'ese 'ere invid'ules, would ye?"

The character didn't wait for a response before reeling in laughter, falling over backwards at the apparent humor only he and the other patrons deep in their drink could find. Picking himself up off the floor, he sat down in a chair next to the man, back to his old demeanor and speech as when the man originally entered the place, speaking in almost a hushed whisper.

"But honestly now lad; jokes aside it's nice to get new faces around here, especially when those faces aren't half burned or cleaved in two. I be the 'Captain of the Guard' now too apparently, so if ya need anything ya know which corner of which bar ta find me in."

With that, the character waltzed back to his small corner of the bar where a few run-of-the-mill soldiers were gathered and sat down. [I]All that was left[/I], he though, [I]was to watch, listen, and wait[/I]. Looking down, he realized he forgot something. [I]And finish me Ale[/I]...

[Kitty]

[size=1][indent][b]?Oi! Keep your filthy hands off the merchandise, brat!?[/b] screeched the old woman, batting Cyd's hands away from one of the cabinets of expensive jewelry. She took the large necklace Cyd had been looking at and gently placed it back on its hook. She turned around and eyed the young woman suspiciously before speaking in a mocking tone.

[b]?One rock on that necklace is worth more than your head, girlie.?[/b] Narrowing her eyes, Cyd stayed silent for a moment before replying.

[b]?And how would you know that??[/b]

[b]?Hmm??[/b] the shopkeeper grumbled.

[b] ?Do you know who I am??[/b]

[b] ?It doesn't matter who you are; you aren't anyone important or famous,?[/b] she waved a hand passively, as if dismissing Cyd's worth completely.

[b] ?I may not be famous, but I am indeed important. I'm sure you know of [i]Wren Olyick[/i], yes??[/b] Cyd asked coolly, dropping the name of one of the nation's most famous jewelers and catching the woman's attention. She whipped around, expression suddenly curious and less disdainful, giving Cyd her answer. [b] ?So you do. Well, it just so happens, that I have a connection with Miss Olyick. I am one of her scouts--?[/b]

[b]?Oh! Dear me, forgive me, Miss, um...??[/b] the woman interrupted, her face drained of color. To deny a scout of Wren Olyick was to doom one's business.

[b]?Rieva,?[/b] Cyd sighed in an irritated tone, using the name of someone she had met in the last town she had visited.

[b]?Miss Rieva, then. I'm terribly sorry, I was unaware that Miss Olyick was interested in shops all the way out here! Please, please, take any pieces you think worthy!?[/b] she smiled, repeatedly bowing her head in apology. She backed away, not wanting to get in the way of Cyd's 'scouting'.

After a couple minutes, Cyd held in her hands several pieces of jewelry, likely to be worth even more than the shopkeeper was aware of, and headed for the door. She paused in the doorway, turning back to see the old woman had been watching her closely from behind the counter.

With a small, fake smile, Cyd called back to the old woman, [b]?With this selection, I can practically guarantee you'll be receiving positive word in the next couple of weeks.?[/b] She left without another glance, though she was sure the old woman was greedily rubbing her hands together at the prospect of becoming an Olyick sponsor.

Cyd grabbed Zel and a small purse she had stolen recently, both of which she had hidden away before entering the small town shop, and placed the jewelry into the handbag before zipping it shut. She knew she was only about a day's walk from Yeshova, and would certainly be able to find an exchange there, hopefully where she could get some money for the jewels she was carrying. But right now, she was concentrating on getting out of town before the shopkeeper's husband made her realize she had just been fooled.

[center]--[/center]

Cyd traveled very often, and sometimes for very long distances, but she was reasonably hungry and tired as she arrived at the gates of Yeshova. She blamed it on not grabbing herself anything to eat before leaving the last town she passed through. She had little patience when the guards decided to stop her and ask her questions, but her answers cleared her of any suspicion. After all, no matter where she went, almost every large city she stopped in seemed to think they should interrogate her, so she had developed an acceptable answer for any question they could ask her.

Once inside Yeshova, she grabbed the arm of the first person to pass by her, demanding the location of the local exchange. The young man looked positively terrified as her eyes flashed red over their natural green, and pointed a shaky finger towards a large building a ways down the road. She released him without a word, ignoring him as he ran away, clutching his arm.

She walked inside the building and immediately recognized it to be the exchange she had requested, but frowned at the large amount of people inside. Too tired and impatient to wait in line, Cyd managed to talk her way past the crowds and got a rather large sum of money for the jewels she traded. Before leaving, she asked the man she had just done business with for the location of an inn. He gave her some simple directions, and she was tired enough to thank him.

It took her a couple minutes to find the inn, and immediately after entering, dropped a decent portion of the money she had just received onto the front desk and asked for their best available room. She was pleased with the room she was escorted to, but had little time to examine any of it other than the large bed she fell asleep on almost instantly.[/indent][/size]

[Darth Vectis]

[SIZE="1"]The suns was still relatively low in the sky, only having been up long enough to be only a few hours into the day. Each beam tried desperately to break through the tree coverage and touch the bodies of all those people and refugees who were traveling this road into the town of Yeshova. The ragged forms of these fleeing people brought a cruel grin to the face of Astaroth, he couldn't help but admire the force that had been exerted on these people by the most powerful empire in decades. His grin soon vanished beneath his face of indifference and cruelty, he moved form the forest as he situated himself in with the refugees.

He knew he looked nothing like them, not being ragged or torn at all. He was clean cut, standing tall and proud. His black armor a vision of a warrior from the underworld come to reap the souls of those who sold their souls to the devil himself. His cloak flying freely as he both arms to his sides, his heavy boots thudded on the dried out ground. All of the refugees made the same sound as they walked, all of them made thuds of submission. Astaroth, however, made the sounds of a man walking to his glory, a man of pride and who was destined for victory no matter what. He held himself high and straight, the refugees looked like withered plants from being hunched over in their utter defeat.

[B]"These people are so pathetic looking, no wonder they were crushed by Dugolma so easily."[/B] He spat to the side in sure disgust with how these people had so easily given in to their new oppressor, but, he also marveled at how powerful the empire had proven to be. He also chuckled at the thought that sheer hatred for a country was enough alone to bring down someone. He reached up and started to scratch under his chin, using the clawed, metal tips to get a good scratch in as they started to walk into the rather large city of Yeshova. Astaroth made sure to give direct eye contact to the obvious leader of the guards.

He wanted this man to know what real power looked like, what it meant to stare into the eyes of man driven by a single purpose. He turned away at the last second before entering the city and seeing the business of it all, he was rather impressed by how these people had seemed to continue their daily lives without letting their oppression hinder them. He chuckled sinisterly at imaging the utter destruction these people probably faced in the future. He pushed through people as he started to walk through the streets, trying to get a grip on what the city held for someone like him.

After a bit of looking around and not finding any obvious land markings that could guide him to any sort of place of rest and food he snatched the nearest person by their upper arm and pulled them towards hims. He looked into the face of the person he had just snatched, he wanted to see what feelings he could read from their eyes. He came to a pleasant surprise of seeing he had snatched a young woman, a rather attractive one. He looked into her big blue eyes and saw the most obvious feeling, fear. He then saw basic feelings, ones that he no longer knew on his own. He then started to look around and speaking to the woman.
[B]
"Can you tell me where the nearest establishment for rest and food is? I am in need of sleep and to fill my stomach. It would be nice if you could make this quick."[/B] She quickly pointed to an inn that wasn't far from the entrance, he looked to size it up to see if it seemed acceptable from where he stood. He soon released the young lady and started to walk off, he stopped for a second to looked over his shoulder at her.

[B]"You best hurry on home, attractive girls like you usually don't last long from where I come from. Especially when there are predators on the prowl, they eat up lambs like you."[/B] He then continued to walk towards the inn, his hands held into fists as he walked steadily. His cloak flying back as a wind picked up, revealing clearly the sword on his left hip, the tattered and beat up handle exposed to the harsh wind. His cloak flapped and swayed as the wind tossed it around. He soon came to the single wooden door to the in and pushed it open with his left hand, the rings clanking lightly against the hard wood.

When he opened the door and stepped in he was met by the warmth of a fire and the sweet aroma of cooking meat. He could also see a group of soldiers sitting at a table, all of them talking about their business, discussing matters the pertained to their continuing domination of this land. He also noted the people who stood out to him, one was the most obvious to him, a flamboyant looking fellow with odd clothing. Well, odd to a man like Astaroth who wore simple clothes at all times. He could also tell that this man was drunk beyond normal limits, Astaroth scoffed at him before taking not of the others.

The other was a man with a scar on his face that made it look like they tried to extend his smile, his shirt that only covered his upper torso that left his midriff exposed gave the impression that he was about as straight as the drunken man in his clothes. Then there was the last one, one that simple laid on the bar with a rather lavish handle sticking out from the scabbard on him. Astaroth wondered what the blade itself looked like, he was curious if it could hold up against Rashaverak. Especially when the magic was released from the blade into Astaroth, it would be quite the spectacle. But for now, he would need to feed himself before he could think of fighting anyone, especially putting hie body under the strain on his blades magic.

He strolled up to the bar and seated himself, he then began to drum his metal clad fingers on the table as he waited patiently for one of the waitresses to come and take his order. Soon one came up and he asked for a simple stew and an ale, he reached into his pocket and pulled out to gold coins and placed them on the table. The waitress took the coins and quickly hurried to the back, he cracked his head as he inspected the fingers covered in the armor. Checking for cracks or possible weaknesses in his armor that could cause him to lose his hand or fingers. After finding nothing he switched his hands.

Inspecting the quality of his five rings, making sure that the words were still clear to read. Even if the language was in a dead dialect that almost no one would understand. He didn't even know what the language was called, but he understood its words and the meanings of these five. It had taken him several years to find someone who could craft these rings with such precision, along with his armor. He came back to reality when he smelt food and saw his cold ale sitting before him. He took the spoon that had been placed beside the bowl of stew and began to eat and a slow pace, cooling it off before taking each bit.

He drank his ale every so often to wash down what was stuck in this throat. After a few minutes, he finished the stew and held the mug of ale in his hand and drank it down quickly. He set down the empty mug and leaned on the bar, the metal studs in his armor pressing into the wood as he spoke to the waitress coming for his things.
[B]
"I need a room for the night. What can I get for a few gold coins?"[/B] He reached into his pocket with his left hand and pulled out five gold coins and placed them on the bar. The girl took them casually and tucked them away in her apron and came around the bar to escort him to his new accommodation's. He followed her slowly, looking at all the soldiers before reaching the stairs and heading into the upper quarters. When they reached the landing they turned down to the rooms and she grabbed a doorknob and twisted and pushed open the door. Astaroth stepped in and inspected it for himself.

The room was lightly decorated with pillows and little things all over, a nightstand was beside a rather large bed with a lamp on it. A single window was to the right side of the bed from where Astaroth stood, it faced out into the street. He looked around casually for a few moments before turning back to the woman.
[B]
"This will do. You are excused."[/B] She turned away and was walking away when Astaroth spoke again.
[B]
"You best watch your back young lady, there are things out there that will get you if you are not careful."[/B] Astaroth had a evil smirk on his face before he closed his door and locked it. He turned away from the door and walked to the chair sitting in the corner of the room. He unclipped his cloak and placed it on the back of the chair, then unstrapped his blade and placed it between the bed and the nightstand. When he had those things set away he laid down on his back and got comfortable before letting sleep take over. [/SIZE]

[SergeantOhashi]

Zsaul sighed as impatience poked her on the back of the neck. It was only midnoon, but the inn and the conjoined tavern were very dark due to lack of sunlight from the outside. Zsaul heavily prefered to stay out of the sun. The light caused unwanted warmth, warmth that was a rare commodity in the Forbidden Forest, where the canopies swallowed up all but small rays of sunlight. It was for the same reason that the demon stayed a great distance away from the fireplace in the lobby of the inn.

She could hear others talking, but their speech was irrelevant to her. Neither was she relevant to them for that matter. The best things about human towns is that they're so ignorant. A figure of any nationality, gender, or motive could walk into a town and do whatever they please without inquisition... that is, if they don't try to harm any of the townsfolk. Otherwise, they'd only attract the local militia and any travelers in want of spreading their name. In the Forest, all occupants who were not of race were instantly prosecuted, usually resulting in the removal of both hands if they did not offer a good enough barter. Of course, outside the stretches of the Forbidden Forest, it was Zsaul's race what was not accepted, therefore she had to wear a cloak to conceal her facial features. Prefering to do otherwise would most likely result in her being hung or similar death sentences utilized by the humans.

The air was musty due to the illfully tended wood. The chill of the cold made pinpoints of her skin tingle and solidified her breath in front of her face. The only light that her sensitive eyes picked up was the occasional flickering of the dancing fire. Cold... Little Light... No Humans Bothering Her... this is the environment that she grew up with and adored so much. It would be even better when Heart and Malice returned from their errands. Heart was in the marketplace, purchasing rations so that they may continue traveling towards their objectives. They had gotten the currency to purchase the rations from a defenseless caravan that was running through a forest trail about three towns ago. The caravan was also shipping kerosene, medicines, and other provisions to the local militia in case they ever need to mobilize and set up parties in the forests. Since such items were useless to the three, they decided to leave the caravan with its wares, that way, there would be less of a bounty on their heads, providing fewer complications in the future.

But Zsaul was here waiting...



[COLOR="Magenta"]Zsaul's delicate hand reached out and clasped the small fruit in her fingers. She inspected it beyond the hood of her cloak and took note of it's characteristics. It was smaller than a mouse, a scarlet colour, and has odd protrusions all around the surface. Such a peculiar morsel... Zsaul guessed that it was one of the tart fruits, like the oval yellow ones. She placed the fruit back in the basket and set the sack of food on the counter in front of the farmer. He began to sum up the net cost as Heart turned to the busy streets.

[b]"What's a lonely woman like yourself doing travelling?"[/b] the farmer asked. "'Specially at a dangerous time like this."

Zsaul refused to respond to the farmer's question. Eventually he understood this and finished tallying up the cost.

[b]"Fifty-two Pences,"[/b] the farmer stated. Heart paid him exactly and walked off with the sack of provisions toward the Inn.[/COLOR]



[COLOR="Red"][b]"Caine Solverwind of Dugolma..."[/b]

Caine halted his pace and turned slightly and glared at the speaker out of the corner of his eye.

[b]"Ah,"[/b] Caine's features perverted into a smile beneath the mask on his face. [b]"I expected this day to come a little sooner"[/b]

Standing across the opening in the trees was a woman. Her skin was pale due to the lack of iron in her diet and the neglection of sunlight from her everyday lifestyle. She had donned two small blades, one elegantly placed in both hands. From memory, Caine had remembered that there were six of them total; they were probably hidden in the white cloak that she wore. The hood of the cloak was down, revealing her flowing white hair, which was parted by her horns, and pointed ears; her eyes were a green hue, one not available to the kalaediscope of the human race, and as light reflected off them, they temporarily became topaz spheres. And beneath the cloak, the woman's spaded tail was nearly still. It was these features that defined the woman's race. Tribes and Clans of humans that became so possessed with the occupants of the demonic plane, that they were banished into the Forbidden Forest to prevent the proliferation of their corrupted ideals. Perhaps they interbred or perhaps the influence of the demons had corrupted, but during the assault upon the Forest, it was notable that the residents shared many traits with the icons they so adored; an example was the woman before him.[/COLOR]

[b]OOC[/b]
Leaving your side of the tussle to you, Matt.

[Doublehex]

Mathias awoke from his dreams in a quick and abrupt manner. The dream dispersed instantly, and he returned to reality. His eyes opened wide, and he felt his face lying on a bar stand. He blinked the sleepiness from his eyes, and raised his head. He squinted as he looked around his surroundings.

It looked like a bar of some kind, albeit a somewhat empty one. Most of the benches were on their sides. Sawdust covered the floor. It looked like it was still a work in progress. Some portions of the floor didn?t eve have planks installed yet.

Mathias shook his head. ?Wait, what?? His mind recollected what had occurred. ?Oh, yeah, those soldiers??

[CENTER]*[/CENTER]

Caine drew his blade. It was of the two handed variety, the zweihänder, a favorite amongst the Dugolma shock troops. The shortest of these were near equal height of the average male, whereas the tallest were an additional two feet. It was a difficult blade to adjust to, and some would dare say neigh impossible to master. Its weight alone would be enough to tear away at the muscles of the unprepared. To swing with it could send the bones tearing through flesh.

But if it hit, even tower shields would shake under the impact.

Caine tightened his armored fists around the hilt. The blood demon, in turn, drew one of her blades. She allowed her one of her legs to slide, whereas the other stayed bent. She crouched, giving her the perfect position for a swift first strike. Her left hand, the one with the buckler, lay open, giving her the opportunity to push off the ground. Her right was in a fist, her blade held tightly within it.

She leaped towards him, marking the first move of the battle.

[CENTER]*[/CENTER]

?Those soldiers, they were attacking somebody?? Mathias? words were not meant for anyone in particular, excluding himself. No one was near him; two men, who both had dirty blonde hair, were bickering with each other over something. An elderly woman was brewing something in a large pot on the other side of the room.

Mathias shook his head one last time to shake any dizziness out of it. ?Did he bring me here?? He sluggishly rose from the stool. He didn?t realize his boot had bumped into something. The blade fell to the floor with a slight sound emerging.

Mathias looked down. ?There you are,? he said in a tone one would say to an old friend.

As he bent down to pick it up, he heard someone approaching. It was one of the men.

?Good; you?re finally awake.?

[CENTER]*[/CENTER]

The Blood Demon raced for Caine at a startling speed. It was almost elf like in how she moved; not like the brutes he fought with in the war. It was odd, how just a change in gender marked such a huge difference in battle tactics, of any kind. She will likely leap towards him, and attempt to send that blade of hers through his armor.

Caine would make things interesting. He slashed downward with zweihänder. Expectedly, the woman leapt. However, Caine did not expect for her to leap [I]over[/I] him. Regardless, it was too slow. He slashed upwards.

She parried with her small sword; the sheer force shocked her very system. She plummeted to the ground. She curled up somewhat, and propelled herself far away from Caine with her left hand.

Caine sheathed his sword. ?Too weak. Grow stronger, demon of the ancient trees.? He snapped his fingers, and particles emerged around him. They arranged themselves into an octagonal shape. Magical energy connected between them, creating a force shield like effect. An explosion of energy emerged within it, and when the dust dispersed, Caine was gone.

[CENTER]
*[/CENTER]

?How long was I asleep for??

?Only an hour.?

?That?s not something to be worried about,? Mathias sighed.

?It is when your one of our first customers.?

Mathias raised an eyebrow. ?One of? Who was the other??

?It was that man in that half shirt. Odd fella.?

The other man emerged behind him. ?I still say he?s queer.? The man slapped him on the head. ?What? He does! Brother, what did I say??

The man sighed. ?The name?s Maru. This is Relm, and the kind woman in the back is our mother, Rella.?

Mathias didn?t want to give time for a conversation he didn?t care for, so he cut right to the chase. ?Where am I??

?This is Yeshova, last free city of the Iaeselians.?

[P.J. McKrafty]

[B]OCC: Sorry for the late post, had a little case of writers block.

[CENTER]-==-[/CENTER][/B]
The clamor of clashing armor filled the market district whole of the market district. Guards were running every witch way scrambling after a thief who had lifted a great deal from a nobleman in the area. The sound of yelling came from the distance as a young man wearing torn clothes and a rag wrapped around his face came sprinting down the street dodging people with great skill. The guards instantly recognized him as the thief Mael.

Three guards turned at the commotion to see him bearing down at them. The first one didn’t have time to react as Mael was able to topple him before he could even raise his spear. The second guard went down faster than the first, but the third was quick enough to get his spear up before Mael reached him. Mael dodged under the thrust of the spear grabbing it with his left hand and liberating it from its owners grasp, Mael spun the spear around and stuck the guards head with enough force to floor him.

The guards scrambled to their feet only to see Mael disappear in the distance around a building corner. Mael went a couple more yards before he ducked behind a building outcropping. He stood ridged with the wall for a couple moments hearing the voices of guards crying out and he could hear them moving away from where he hid. He let out a sigh of relief and dropped the pack strapped to his back filled to the brim with his newly obtained wealth.

Mael unwrapped the rags covering his face to show his bright green eyes and dark complexion. He slid down the wall meeting the ground and sitting next to his pack. He suddenly heard the yelling of the guards start to close in on him. He jumped to his feet, wrapped his face and grabbed his pack. He ran into a close by alleyway finding only a dead end. The voices were growing ever closer. He made a quick decision and tossed the pack on top of the building to his left.

He flattened himself against the adjacent wall, he took three deep breaths and leapt against the wall kicking off against it and once again on the adjacent barely making his mark and grabbing the edge of the building. He hauled himself up just as a guard turned the corner. He yelled out that Mael had made his way to the rooftops. Mael couldn’t help but to chuckle at the Guards demanding he come down and trying themselves to get onto the roof.

Mael tired of taunting the guards and leapt to the adjacent roof grabbing his pack and starting jumping from rooftop to rooftop towards the inn.

[Engel]

[color=cornflowerblue][size=1]As the family told Mathias where he was, Garviel came down the stairs wearing not his half of a shirt, but instead a long sleeved cotton shirt that was colored black. It was rolled up over his forearms. He wore a sarcastic look upon his icy features, and responded to what he had heard coming down the stairs.

[b]"No, I'm not queer, barkeep. dispel your hopes."[/b] Garviel taunted, electing a laugh from Maru and a smile from Relm. Slowly, he took a seat besides Mathias, regarding him with a short nod. Almost without hesitation, he ordered an entire bottle of spiced rum to chase away the headache that bit at his thoughts. As it was handed to him, he took a slow drink, and then turned to Mathias.

[b]"Thank you, sir, for the help back there. I hope that you shall find the room I've put you up in adequate. I, however, plan to leave by the morning. Something in the distance awaits me."[/b] He said, answering the unheard question with a slight edge to his voice. Stashing the spiced rum in a bag, he wrapped the entrance to it shut and began to stalk up the stairs before running back down and nabbing a bowl of fruit. He stalked back up the stairs, eventually entering his room and closing the door with a silent latch.

As Garviel set the bowl down and made sure Anathema was propped up against the wall in a position where it wouldn't fall, he turned around and looked at the door. He almost expected Copernicus to come through the door. Realizing that he wouldn't was the first real pain that the young Summoner felt since the entire incident. A pang resonated through his being as he sat down with an apple from the bowl and bit at it gently, staring at the bottom of the door expectantly.

[b]'That stupid damned Arcane Tower. If it didn't exist, Copernicus would be here. Who's to say what I'm looking for is there anyway?"[/b] Garvi nursed the bottle of rum once more before he shook his head.

[b]"Can't think like that...gotta keep going on. Copernicus would reprimand me to push ups and study if he saw me like this."[/b] As he composed himself to leave by tomorrow morning, he smiled at the ring on his right middle finger. The mark of the Summoner shone on it brilliantly before fading to a dim ruby red.[/color][/size]

[b]OOC:[/b] It's a short and sucky post, but Matt asked me to post something. :D