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Post by zan on Nov 14, 2007 0:36:08 GMT -5
Zan sat atop his inornate oakwood chair, a throne to the rest, but a place to rest his behind to him. Idly, he sipped at his pewter goblet, letting the water therein glide softly down his parched throat. Once upon a time, back when he was the Warrior-King, raining fire and pain upon his opponents, he would have been drinking something harder, but in his old age, his drink of choice was of simple water. Age, as he saw it, was the unseen enemy that no warrior, despite his or her best defences, could ever outrun. Age always hid just around the corner, icy blade bared and poised for the juggular.
Boredom caused a twitch in his leg, sending his gray britches swishing in the dust. What an irritation, these squabbling children and their inability to adhere to the simple laws of the land. Was it so hard? His aged features drew down in a chiseled frown. He was too tired. These kids can fight it out amongst themselves.
Calmly, he smiled and bid the gentlemen in question a fond farewell and rose from his "throne". Immediately, the long black cloak fell over his torso, whisking away all traces of his rough-cut brown tunic or his worn sword belt that no longer supported the weight of steel. His height was nothing imposing, neither tall nor short, and his girth was that of an underfed youth, so he passed easilly between the disputers. He clapped each warmly on the shoulder, though he secretly detested both, and stepped out of the grand hall (if it could be called thus) into a plain wooden hallway.
The hub of the wooden lodge lay here, were all other doors, hallways, and walks led to or from. He would find his way to the stables from here, where his blood-red roan awaited him. He wanted a ride, cool night air, and the company of the trees and stars.
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Post by Squire Witesh on Nov 14, 2007 20:15:19 GMT -5
It was a cool crisp night. The stars shown bright in the sky but the moon was mostly dark. A pair of eyes, just two shining emeralds lurked in the darkness behind the trees, watched and waited. They were looking for a midnight snack, possibly a rabbit or even a mouse. She had been in these lands before, these woods were very familiar. Hell, these were her old hunting grounds! and this is also where she was known by a different name. Funny how the past always comes back to you...
A mouse ran across her path... it was its last mistake...
She pounced and made a snack of the small creator.
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Ridlin Rin
Heroic Adventurer
Yes I am a kinky MACHINE GUN!!!, and no, you may not have my cookie
Posts: 169
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Post by Ridlin Rin on Nov 17, 2007 10:52:21 GMT -5
Rin stopped short on her way to the castle at the sight of her old friend.
"I'll be damned, if it isn't my fellow wolf. And what poor thing are you tomenting this time?"
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Post by Tormir on Nov 19, 2007 2:33:21 GMT -5
Slowly rising into the night, Tormir looked at the castle looming in the distance. His black, feathery wings rose and fell and he winged his way towards it. He seen two wolves below him but figured such small animals wouldn't be worth the draining. His bright white fangs gleamed in the moon light as he smiled.
He would eat and soon...
The castle drew nearer still...........
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Post by zan on Nov 20, 2007 5:13:16 GMT -5
Frowning in disgust at both someone having left broken pottery in the path and his own error of not seeing it until his roan's hooves crunched into the sharp shards of clay, Zan released her hoof and let it drop to the ground. Now, the beautiful creature was lamed due to a large spike slicing through the meat of the hoof and piercing a nerve. She whinnied pitifully in pain and his heart sank. She was his best and most beautiful horse, daughter of his first great warhorse.
Hardening his heart, like he had done so many times before so many battles, he drew his dining dagger. He didn't have much in the way of weaponry, but it would do to serve this heartwrenching task. With a final gaze into her lovely dark eyes, he stroked her nose lovingly, then fluidly jerked the knife through her windpipe to ease her pain. A brief flash of anguish burned in her eyes before the light of life slowly faded from view. Her body fell heavilly into the tall grass beside the acursed road, and he bent to run his fingers through her mane just one more time.
His vision blurred horribly as the tears stung his eyes and a lump formed in his throat. He hadn't even noticed the horse's blood on his hands until the metalic smell rang in his nostrils. He knew he had better be wary, because the scent of blood would attract the creatures of the night. Wolves weren't common, but he remembered the way they could appear out of nowhere, even in the midst of a bloody battle, if they were hungry enough. And this had proven to be a lean year for everything.
He pulled at the straps on the saddle bags, silently chastising himself for not having removed the saddle from his horse BEFORE putting her down. The buckles came loose and he pulled the saddle from her crumpled form. In a side pocket, he produced a kerchief that he used to wipe the blood from his hands and his dagger. Tossing the kerchief into the brush, he shouldered the saddle and began the trek back to his grand wooden castle in despair.
"Some king, eh?" he muttered irritably.
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Ridlin Rin
Heroic Adventurer
Yes I am a kinky MACHINE GUN!!!, and no, you may not have my cookie
Posts: 169
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Post by Ridlin Rin on Nov 20, 2007 20:01:54 GMT -5
Rin's attention revoked it's self and trained on the sudden shift in the air. It was the dark sound of an animal being ingured. She couldn't tell if her fellow wolf had heard or not, however she had no intention of waiting. Afterall, she was rather close to the castle, ergo any odd happening had to be considered a possible threat.
Without warning, the shift of form over took her. Where a young girl had stood now sat a vibrate red wolf. Immedently, Rin tore toward the sound.
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Post by Squire Witesh on Nov 30, 2007 17:37:18 GMT -5
"Just a mouse..."
Witesh replied to Rin's question. Then an awful sound, and a beautiful smell arouse in the air. It was the sweet smell of blood. She watched the red wolf take off in a quick sprint. She sampled the air, it was horse blood, no dought. Maybe if she hurried she might have a good meal. That is if she could get there before the red wolf devoured it herself. Witesh through herself into the night after Rin, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust where she was standing among the trees.
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Post by Ser Mehran S'Disraeli on Nov 30, 2007 20:19:13 GMT -5
The time had long come for an audience with the king of the closest neighboring realm. A hard time had fallen upon them, after ending a war so recently, and Mehran felt as though she might have some "services" to offer Centrawoven. Mehran had met Zan (Now King, she remembered) before in her travels, but knew more of him than actually knowing him personally. It would be good to renew her knowledge of him. After all, kingship can be hard on some people, and Zan had never had particularly broad shoulders. She wondered how he'd reacted.
She had chosen the least dangerous, and therefore most dangerous, path: through the forests around Centrawoven Valley. Mehran knew that thieves and worse, and wild animals of the night, would frequent the area, but her cloak kept her figure dark and her slippers kept her feet silent. The Mistress had long learned to keep complete quiet when sneaking around. Part of it was from her early free-folk days, when she hunted. Later, it was to stay alive when training to become the Sultana. Now, it was to stay hidden from things that she was better off not knowing.
Silently, she slipped past wolves who appeared to scent something. They acted strangely, and were definitely not pack-mates: one was of a crimson hue, the other a silver. Still ,they weren't fighting, which meant their awareness would be on the world around them. Unafraid, she walked calmly past. If they bothered her, she had the protection of her djinneyeh.
Mehran came up Zan in a small clearing off of a path. He had been muttering to himself about his kingliness. She chuckled quietly. "Oh, I don't know, your grace; you seem to be rather heroic to me." It was not a false statement; she was not a liar. "Instead of holding an animal to a lame life, you chose to end it for it. I see it was dear to you," she said, unknowing of the gender of the beast. Mehran felt genuinely sorry for the King. But she didn't know how temperamental he might be about his titles and rank, so she kept a respectful, and cautious, distance. She had no doubt he had skill with that dagger.
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Post by Tormir on Nov 30, 2007 22:29:03 GMT -5
As he winged his way to the castle, Tormir thought back to the day before.
It had dawned clearly enough, and after a nights troubled sleep, dawn was a pleasant thing. He hated being one of the Fallen but it was an unavoidable fate. He had prepared food as humans did and once again marveled at the taste of it. He couldn't survive off of it but he could enjoy it. Being a blood angel, a fallen angel, damned to be a vampire, he needed blood to survive. He didn't feel at all accepted in the world of humans and it shamed him. He had just finished his meal when a man had charged past him on a fell looking steed. He had marveled at men and all their haste when a whole group of them had ridden up to him as if Hel herself was after them. 'Have you seen a man on a steed of black with eyes of red ride past, stranger?" He looked at them, hunger surging through him and answered "Aye milords. 'Twas naught but a moment past and he went that way. Pray tell what did he do?" They looked at one another and chuckled. "Well he didn't do much did 'e? Killed a man he did and we aims to get 'im afore he does it again." The man who spoke hadn't looked like the most scholarly type but most farmers weren't. Tormir stood and flexed his black wings. If you would, leave him to me and he'll harm nary a soul. He looked at them, cocked his head and winked. The horses shied away and snorted in fear. The men looked uneasy and began to sweat. Their leader spoke. "Not a problem stranger. Just leave our town be. We're peaceful folk, with no bother from demons and the like. With your kind neither." They wheeled the frightened horses and rode away, nervously exclaiming to one another about how lucky they were. Dousing the fire, Tormir rose to the sky in a steady pattern of up, down, up, down, up... Once aloft, he could see for miles and, being once divine his senses were heightened. He spotted the trail of dust and shot off like an arrow, seeking the black form at the head of it. He arrived, a bit in front, not a moment later. "Halt!" He shouted the word and the horseman complied. Or rather the horse did. The beast stopped at once and the man was thrown to the ground, and the telltale sound of vertebrae snapping was clearly audible in the empty wood. With an empathic message he sent the horse flying back towards the village it had ridden from. He then dropped lightly to the ground and walked to the dying man. He then bent and with little effort, hoisted the man to eye level. "Tell Lady Hel who sent you. Tell her Tormir, Son of Odin and user of the berserker rage sent you!" He then sank his fangs deep in the mans throat and began to feast. What a feast it had been too...
As he flew toward the castle, he looked to the path below and noticed it ran to a village and from there wound to the castle. He passed it, and then the scent hit him. It hit like a raging troll and didn't stop. It got stronger. There was one thing that was as desirable as human blood... Horse blood. There was a reason... If only he had let that centaur go.....
He followed the scent and shapes began to form. A man and a woman, as well as the source of the smell: a dead horse, a blood-red roan. How delightfully ironic... He flew lower and decided to hover for a time before hailing the figures.... These humans may or may not accept the fallen and if they didn't, well human blood was top on the list and the horse would make a fine dessert.
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Ridlin Rin
Heroic Adventurer
Yes I am a kinky MACHINE GUN!!!, and no, you may not have my cookie
Posts: 169
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Post by Ridlin Rin on Dec 1, 2007 10:24:10 GMT -5
Rin stoped short of the clearing as she caught wind of both King Zan and someone else. It seemed to be familiar, but she couldn't recall exactly who it was. Could she be a friend, or anouther assassin trying to kill off the head man. At anyrate, it was apparent she had some reason for calling, so Rin choose to wait till there was a solid sign of danger. Then she'd but training to test and start chowwing things down.
The sound behind her brought Rin abrubtly back to reality. Reaching out, she made a grab at her fellow wolf Arwin. "Arwin don't!" She hushed "It's King Zan and someone else. Stay here with me in case something happens."
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Post by zan on Dec 2, 2007 17:45:03 GMT -5
Startled, Zan shot to his feet and silently cursed himself for not having heard the visitor approach. His eyes had adjusted to the night hours ago, but there just wasn't enough light to illuminate more than figures and sillouettes to him. Or maybe his eyes were going...wouldn't surprise him, everything else seemed to be. His muscles burned from having bunched up into a rigid block as instinct had spurned him into a defensive battle stance. His still dripping dagger poised at the ready for...for what?
He visibly relaxed, as he consciously decided that if this intruder was truly going to make an attempt on his life, it would've been while he was unawares. She had already accomplished that feat, and, as they used to say back in his homeland, she had the drop on him. If she wanted him dead, he would be so by now. So. Establishing that, he still wondered what it was that she DID want. His body relaxed, but his mind was wound tight and ready to throw his body and soul into battle without hesitation. All he needed was a reason. Er...and maybe a better weapon than an eating utensil, but who's counting?
"She was indeed dear to me...the end of her line of great beasts. I mourn her nigh meaningless death." Moisture burned his bottom eyelids. "Heroism comes from responsibility, not honorable throat slitting. This was...was..." Frustration squeezed away his remaining words. A pregnant pause allowed him to wrestle his emotions back under control.
"Apologies," Zan muttered. "I'd introduce myself, but by the titles you carefully choose, I suppose you already know who I regretfully am. May I inquire as to who you may be?" His pools of raw emotion solidifying into what his soldiers fearfully refered to as his "raptor gaze". While his days of war and conquest have fallen behind him, his eyes would never lose the ability to stun the bravest of warriors.
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Post by Squire Witesh on Dec 3, 2007 21:51:11 GMT -5
Witesh skidded to a stop kicking up a cloud of dust. It had been along time since she had been called by that name... it brought back such pleasant, and horrid memories...
"I wouldn't worry about the women Rin."
she said turning to her old pack mate.
"At least not for now..."
Her midnight ears twisted and her great head turned to the sky. Her onyx and steel colored pelt shined beautifully in the star light and her eyes, like to emeralds, were fixed on something.
"We have bigger things to worry about. There is human blood on the air, not just horse. There is a dark aura near by too... to near for comfort, and I can hear the flapping of wings!"
She said in a hushed whisper.
"Look there Rin!"
Her orbs stared into the sky above the two figures...
"The light of the stars has been blocked from our view... My friend, there is a demon in our midsts!"
She got the felling of urgency, that something must be done about this... She was not the heroic type to go about saving kings or anyone really for that matter. But he had once been a very close pack mate of hers and was still a very good friend, even though it had been forever since they last saw eachother... Still she had her sense of duty to him, not from him being the king of this realm, but from him being a friend and a loved one, family almost, and this demon was most definitely planing a meal of him...
She rushed twords him leaving anouther cloud of dust behind her but she dare not go close enough to be within the reach of the king's knife, even if thrown... She knew how easily he spooked and how unexpectingly deadly he could be. She only got close enough to bark out to him,
"Zan! Above your head, there be a demon!"
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Post by Ser Mehran S'Disraeli on Dec 3, 2007 22:40:10 GMT -5
Mehran nodded. "Aye, that's so," she agreed. "But you seem to wrestle with responsibility with no problem. And after all, action springs not from thought, but from a readiness for responsibility." She smiled. Her eyes, magically charmed to see even in this dim light, viewed his with caution. He appeared to be on the defensive, but that was no truth; at will, he would be offensive. And she would be dead. But the Mistress courted Death every day; the Incarnation's grim specter held no fear for her. Death was but the next great adventure.
He asked her name, invoking her favorite conversation. "Yes, milord. I am called many thin--" A raspy bark invaded the clearing, and one of the wolves she had glimpsed earlier seemed to be the source. "There's a what?" But the word "daemon" was all Mehran had needed. She yanked the bluish-green bottle out from under her copious amounts of garb. She wore a long skirt, and underneath was house two pairs of pants, and a long pair of woolen trousers. She took no chances with the frost, having come from places farther north than this.
Rubbing the lamp, she hoped it wasn't too late. I should have been more wary. Or brought Sidheag, she silently admonished herself. A red smoke, with bells and sparks, filled the air around them. The fume was almost invisible in the dark, but the sounds and lights were perfectly sensory. Then, where the effects had been, a pretty brunette in red skirts and veils stood. She was definitely not dressed for the chill, but appeared warm anyway. Such was the firey basis of the Djinn.
"Yes, Master?" Pyra intoned, dipping her head to Mehran.
"I do believe a protective shield is in order, my pretty red princess," Mehran replied respectfully, and being careful not to use the "magic words." Mehran pointed upwards. "I think you remember our good friend Tormir?" For it could have been no other. Mehran felt the chill associated with the daemon. "Hello, there, old friend!" she shouted at him. "Back away slowly, or perhaps I'll have my djinneyeh blast you with heat as you've not known?" She hoped the threat worked.
"Pyra, do extend the shield to be big enough for our company," Mehran said politely, gesturing to their surroundings and the creatures that inhabited them. "If you all should wish, you're more than welcome to join me in my safety, unless you have better defenses."
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Ridlin Rin
Heroic Adventurer
Yes I am a kinky MACHINE GUN!!!, and no, you may not have my cookie
Posts: 169
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Post by Ridlin Rin on Dec 4, 2007 19:38:58 GMT -5
Rin, while not known for have self-restraint(Kye could back that with one of many scars), did have a remarkable bit of self-preservation. Arwin brought the issuse of vistors to her attention, and all possible senses were on full alert. Worse, that odd looking woman was now involved, shooting off some wack bit of magick, AND currently ingulfing Rin's searchee in said magic.
"Ah KASU!!!!"
Once again throwing herself into trouble, Rin sprang from her place and rolled over the ground. She felt her bones shift as her form changed. The warm fur that had protected her from the cold recided, drawing anouther curse. When she finished the roll, where a red wolf had entered, the young jackress had replaced. In hand, was Kye's "librated" dagger that he failed to take back before her early pupnapping.
"Well, Zanny! I guess if she's trying to kill you inside the bubble, I'll just make sure I'm here to do something about it."
Standing, she turned to face the on coming demon. There was a moments pause before she turned back to Zan.
"OH! By the way, I ran into Buster today."
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Post by Tormir on Dec 5, 2007 14:07:33 GMT -5
A demon? They called him a demon? And how did the djinn summoner know his name? The whole situation was confusing to him. But it appeared they intended to do battle. However with so many of them... Silently assessing the whole thing he decided that retreat was the best avenue of escape. Flapping his great black wings he rose into the night. Then it hit him. A rush of memories. Who...who was this? Some bastard was in his head, these had to be false memories. Had he really been a balor? He felt an intense pain and screamed. It wasn't a pained scream. It was a feral scream. It rent the night air better than a banshee's wail. He saw the wolves whimpering and covering their ears with dusty paws. He saw the humans gaping at him in awe. Then he realized it. It was an illusion. Chances are they were doing things much differently and he was possibly in danger of dying at this moment. He felt different. He had transformed. He was a balor. But the real him, the blood angel was a voice of reason. It echoed in his head and questioned why. The balor's laugh was haunting. Then he felt as if his skin was melting and he realized that the true him had won out. And he blacked out, plummeting to the forest floor.
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