Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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Invoker
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Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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The Orcblood's Apprentice
"Let's make a deal: I tell you why Wirg hasn't brought me into battle, yet, and you take off that mask of yours...yes?"

He rewarded her with a hint of amusement in his crimson eyes, the chair in the Gloura's meeting room creaking under the weight of steel and muscle as he shifted, his jet black cape covering it like a shroud.

Her name was Draya, or so she said. A Bregan D'aerthe's agent, and a very peculiar one, at that: no battle training, nor tactical knowledge at all. Apparently, she was the protege of a highly ranked member named Wirg...an orcblood, of all things. As she talked, he wondered how could a female be an obviously skilled adventurer, and yet such an affable mercenary with zero experience, and still be alive in Sshamath, the Land of Deceit and Illusion, where saying the wrong word at the wrong time could mean tragically failing to come out of reverie the next cycle.

Several kivvil he interacted with figured the "Drow" were a bunch of murderous psychopaths that by a miracle of the Dark Seldarine somehow failed to exterminate each other, staving off extinction only by interrupting the internal backstabbing for raiding or having sex with the frequency of rodents. Well...it was a somewhat accurate picture, but far too simple, like a young one's first attempt at drawing a humanoid figure with limbs portrayed as sticks.

What very few understood from the outside, was that his people were not only powerful, but also far more sophisticated than most could imagine. The delicate balance was held by the real source of true power in the World Below: information. Killing someone, anyone really, was not a problem. The real issue was what that "someone" might mean to others, especially powerful "others". The most important principle in the life (and death) of an Illythiir was: "It's not what you do. It's whom you do it to". Immensely powerful organizations, even great Houses, had been brought down by one, careless dagger slid through a nobody's ribs...when the nobody's friends turned out to be extremely powerful, and less than pleased.

The wooden chair cracked wickedly as he stood, the long cape falling in all around him like the shadows around a fading faerie fire. As he walked towards the door, he answered her:


"Perhaps next time, if you still live."

"Where did you say I could contact you, Blackblade...?"

His lips curled into a wan smile under the mask

"I did not. I'll find you..."

His last words were already hard to hear, covered by his heavy steps climbing the stairs and the metallic song his armor whispered with his every move
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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mrm3ntalist
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Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

Unread post by mrm3ntalist »

[table]
[tr][td=2]
Patiently Waiting
[/td][/tr]
[tr][td]Image[/td]

[td]Many tendays have gone by, but still, many questions remain unanswered. Why they came here? Who is after them? What are their plans? So far he can only assume...[/td][/tr]


[tr][td=2]He doesnt dare to ask though. He knows better than that. In a city like Sshamath were everything is up for the taking, not knowing can be seen as a weakness. Especially with matters concerning the Church. On the upside, they spend much time together, so he believes that it is only a matter of time to for the couple to open up.

During their many adventures they made many acquaintances. Some could serve the group, others worthy allies and many potential enemies. In the last group, the followers of the Spider Queen are high on the list. The status of Sshamath is a heresy to them and they are not concerned being open about it. The skills of the group are getting better and better. The Blackblade is an impenetrable wall, the bardess a great inspiration for them all and Valen getting faster and faster. Even the newest addition of the group, the agile Nawen who slips in and out of the shadows so effortlessly has gotten close to the group.

Only the arcanist remain a mystery. She keeps to herself and never displays her powers. Which is both curious and scary...[/td][/tr][/table]
IS EMOTIONAL KEKW - GIT GUD

Mendel - Villi of En Dharasha Everae | Nikos Berenicus - Initiate of the Mirari | Efialtes Rodius - Blood Magus | Olaf Garaeif - Dwarven Slayer

Spelling mistakes are purposely entered for your entertainment!
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Invoker
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Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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Sshamath's Finest
"Take a look at the contracts, before our next meeting. And think about the fruit, hmm...?!

He observed her thoroughly one more time, examining her features, her clothes, her body language. She was either utterly genial, completely insane, or both, with peaks of "selective incompetence", as she would have defined it herself. Remarkably devious and cunning even for their people's standards, she was offering to him one of the most difficult conversations he had to follow in the last two centuries...as far as he could recall, of course.

His thin lips curved into a wan smile at the thought. He could not explain it, of course: it was a terrible thing...there was nothing to laugh about. And yet, his mild amusement persisted. Perhaps madness was taking him as well, after all...

Fruit...of all things...

Shaking his head briefly as he smoothly moved his dark cape away from his sword's hilt, he headed for the door as he replied:


"I will deliver the papers in the right hands. It will happen within this very cycle. Feel free to clear your schedule for the next meeting, already..."

Then, he left her office and the building's premises, and was quickly swallowed by the city's darkness.
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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Invoker
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Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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The Wilds

They decloaked all around him, shadows among shadows, their attack and movement speed unmatched. Three, coming from different directions, with perfect attack vectors. He did not see them coming.

He didn't need to.

Sidestepping to his right, his dark sword formed Apple Blossoms in the Wind (had he ever known any of these things?), scoring thrice on the closest opponent: two shallow cuts, one on the arm and one on the side, with the third thrust straight through the neck of the monster, almost severing its head. As the light faded in its all-too-elven eyes, he used his momentum to slam his shield into the next enemy's head with all his considerable strength, crushing its skull, while contemporarily freeing his blade.

The third one tried to stab him in the back, but he rotated at the last moment, expertly using his armor's plates to deflect the razor-sharp darksteel daggers, transforming lethal blows in harmless glancing hits.
The ambush had suddenly become a duel. Grinning under his mask, his crimson gaze met the surviving Drider's in mocking challenge. As his sword fell into position, he remarked:


"And now, just for pure documentative reasons, let's see how many legs a Drider truly needs to stand..."

After he used both his sword and huge shield to execute the Heron Spreads its Wings (where did that name come from?), the answer turned out to be many, many more than the ones it had left...
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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Invoker
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Joined: Thu Jan 23, 2014 5:21 pm

Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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The Peddler
She was standing exactly where the Gloura said she would be, perusing the Bazaar's wares with the utmost care. He fell in beside her, his heavy steps and metal wargear announcing his presence long before he actually entered her field of vision. When she spoke, her tone was deferent, her words carefully chosen, her eyes downcast. As he replied, she lifted her cyan irises to meet his crimson gaze, and what he saw within convinced him she had what he was looking for.

The Peddler was in no hurry to sell. She took her time, and gave him a quality sample to demonstrate just how good her product was. Once he was inclined to believe in the quality of the goods, she proceeded to fix a comparatively convenient price for it, and add a refund clause in case she failed to deliver what was advertised.

Transactions were made, and future developments discussed to both parties' mutual satisfaction.

When he left, about a candlemark later, his thin lips were curved into one of his rare, wan smiles under the mask.
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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Invoker
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Joined: Thu Jan 23, 2014 5:21 pm

Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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First Orders
The Conjurer spoke, and the dark clad behemoth slowly rose, the chair creaking its relief as the weight of muscle and steel was lifted from it. As he stood, he grabbed his large shield from under the strategy table and extracted his dark sword in one unique, fluid motion, before walking towards the intruder with inexorable steps.

The Tiefling, an aspiring recruit in her own right, seemingly sponsored by at least two renowned agents who were also the ones who (perhaps too hastily) let her in, had failed to maintain proper etiquette and show the required level of deference to the powerful mage. That would be a deadly mistake in almost every conceivable situation, and even more so in Sshamath since an influential arcanist was involved.

He offered her to cut her tail only and spare her life. Her answer was morphing into a colossal Dire Bear and using her enormous mass and supernatural strength to pin him down, as razor-sharp fangs and claws as hard as any tempered steel battered his armor plates furiously, seeking the vital organs below. Crushing one of his special healing vials between his teeth, he grinned wolfishly under the face mask as the liquid poured into his throat. This had been more than enough entertainment, already...

The onslaught would have killed most opponents, even fairly competent ones. But he had spent most of his three centuries of life fighting to the death against overwhelming odds. With a weapon in hand, he was armored Death incarnate. Using his own considerable strength and fighting technique, he pushed the lumbering beast away from him in between its attacks, using his tower shield to create distance and get some maneuvering space. Once he regained his balance, he launched himself in an all-out assault of his own, his sword flowing from one mysterious form to the next, all the while using the shield to keep the creature off balance.

In mere moments, the furious attack was over. His adversary had become a tiefling once again, coughing blood, wheezing weakly in the corner he had pushed her into. Luckily for her, the Conjurer had other plans for the unwanted guest that required her to keep breathing.

He silently wiped the blood off his blade on her torn clothes, before letting the others help her out of the compound.
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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Invoker
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Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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The Harbinger of Death
It is said, that Drow have a superiority complex. That they are egotistic, treacherous, greedy, and ready to exact devastating revenge when the time is right. All fundamentally true, except for the fact there is no "complex" whatsoever: they really are superior. They possess fabled physical and magical abilities other creatures can only dream of. Shaped by the world they live in and favoured by their long lives, they can help them become truly legendary individuals.

When one of the aforementioned individuals incurs in a bad turn of event, like an unexpected delay in reaping certain long-awaited benefits he had been working for (circumstances that are not uncommon at all, given the amount of plotting and scheming going on in the life of ambitious Drow with the skill and relevance to back that drive up...), it is often the case that multiple members of any inferior race within arm's reach are going to be obliterated, a sacrifice to quench the murderous fury. Not to say that any of these exceptional characters need a reason for genocide, mind you: Drow are whimsical, and do indulge their violent urges more often than not...

The wisest among the Duergars entrenched in the compound adjacent to the Illithid Mines most likely realized just how fateful the cycle was about to become when their reinforced outer gate blew inward, giving way to a colossal two-handed claymore spinning in a deadly arc, and killing two guards before they could even react. The nefarious extent of the dark-armored swordsman's intentions manifested in the next few seconds, with three more dark dwarves cut to pieces, their axes dodged or deflected by his steel and their spells rendered harmless by invisible magical defenses.

Without slowing down, the warrior quickly moved across forms very few kivvil (and probably nobody in the Underdark) would recognize, opening with an improved version of River of Light (since the sword was already out of its scabbard) to close the distance, into a wide Reaping the Barley arc flowing into The Heron Spreads His Wings, and ending up thrusting the large blade through the last Duergar Weapon Master's heart with Kissing the Adder, burying the sword in the wall behind him. He did not speak, nor listen. He was silent and relentless as death itself.

Leaving the broadsword and its last victim where they were, he kept walking deeper into enemy territory as he strapped to his left arm a large shield with exotic engravings probably portraying some sort of hero or religious figure of the World Above, and extracted an elegant longsword, blade so black it seemed to feed on the faint faerie fire light of the compound, and radiating an aura of malevolence easily noticeable even by the less perceptive.

The Duergar Leader and its lackeys were seconds away from death.

And they wouldn't be the last ones, before the cycle's end...
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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Invoker
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Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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A Wizardess from Ched Nasad
"The price is twenty-thousand gold pieces per agent involved."

The wizardess' expression stiffened, her lips thinning. That only increased his level of enjoyment, which was already pretty high considering the evident discomfort having to ask for assistance was causing her, as opposed to being able to command it. His face mask concealed the wolfish grin he was wearing, probably avoiding either a diplomatic accident, an assassination attempt or both.

"That...is a very steep price. Can you explain me why exactly that amount?"

The annoyance in her tone was a sweet melody to his pointed ears. This must have been the very definition of a kivvil's dream...

"Easily enough. Given the location and type of operation you are asking for, as well as the lack of information on the specific threats in question, 6.000 will be spent in special equipment; 10.000 will book each agent for the desired timeframe, and I consider this on average assuming recruits will come along as well, because I myself am worth much more; lastly, 4.000 are the standard 20% profit."

Ah, the twitching of her mouth...the narrowing of her eyes...the stern tone...it had been decades he didn't have so much fun. This would be a very rewarding, fruitful cooperation...up to the point he would discover why had she been lying all along, and what was it she was hiding.

Then, she would be the next one to disappear. For good.
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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Invoker
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Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

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The Dark at the End of the Tunnel
He slowly stood, stepping away from the bed. After meeting the crimson gaze of the stranger in the mirror, he began dressing, jet-black muscles chiseled by centuries of battles and constant training flexing rhythmically as expert fingers moved through his equipment.

"You're leaving without me."

It wasn't a question, so he did not reply. He simply continued his work with remarkable efficiency, methodically fastening the heavy steel of his armor pieces to the leather and mail underneath.

"What do you think you're doing...Blackblade, or whatever name you go by this century?!"

"I am following orders. Being the dutiful, dependable butcher I have always been. Isn't that how you want me?" he replied blankly, tightening his armored gauntlet's fit by gripping his fist while pulling the chainmail's edge towards his elbow. "I thought you'd be pleased"

The gorgeous female languidly stirred, delicately tracing the exposed curves of her naked body with her finger, before replying playfully: "Oh, but I am pleased. Just wondering whose orders are you following, and what plan.

With three rapid, subsequent movements so fluid they could have been one, he tied his longsword's scabbard to his waist as he spoke: "The orders I should have been given long ago, and there is, and always has been, only one true plan. I won't insult your intelligence pretending otherwise."

She erupted in a liquid, hearty laugh that might have been associated with joy, if it hadn't been for the deadly edge underneath...a poisoned dagger under silk sheets: "Do you even know who you are anymore, "Blackblade"?! You're talking like the mask, following its code...but can you still remember who's underneath?"

He turned around, face mask in place, two pools of crimson radiance pointed at her from the dark depths of his cowl: "I do. Grief is like energy: it changes shape over time, but it's never truly lost. The real question, however, has never been who I am...but what."

"If you fail, I will leave you to the consequences."

Casually lifting his heavy shield from the ground on his way to the door without even breaking stride, he replied: "How disquieting. Now, if you'll excuse me..." before closing the door behind him.
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
User avatar
Invoker
Posts: 1392
Joined: Thu Jan 23, 2014 5:21 pm

Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

Unread post by Invoker »

Haunt
Out of the mists and shadows, from darkness he came.

Their kivvil eyes did not see him approach, even though he made no effort to conceal himself. Their kivvil ears did not warn them, their chanting voices covering the sounds of his steps as well as the low, metallic growl of Kel'drin'ar, the Soulstealer, leaving its scabbard. When their planar allies finally alerted them of his presence, he was close enough to smell their fear.

The chanting stopped, surprise and adrenaline getting in the way of the deep concentration high level spellcasting required. They did not expect anyone alive in the dwarven tomb, except for the Khanaraun. They thought they could easily handle them, and perhaps they could.

But he was another story.

The Black Sword low, his stance relaxed, his dark form barely distinguishable in the almost complete absence of the faintest light source, he kept on advancing slowly as they retreated towards the river, letting his long mantle swing and flow around his figure, playing with their senses. Soon, they were left out of space, their backs to the dark water.


Good...

After a long moment of silence, he spoke in a perfect version of their Common tongue:

"Do you realize who I am, and what my presence here means for you?"

They did. The kivvil threw themselves on the boat, using their spells to speed it up as their creatures attacked him. Without slowing down, he cracked the closest one's skull with his huge shield as his blade deflected the other winged outsider's attack, turning it into a thrust through its heart.

He stood there, his crimson gaze lost in the dark, now quiet horizon beyond the underground stream as he cleaned his blade with an oiled skin.


"I'll take that as a yes..."
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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Invoker
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Joined: Thu Jan 23, 2014 5:21 pm

Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

Unread post by Invoker »

End of an Era
Her eyes weighed him appraisingly, lingering on his facial traits, examining his bone structure, gauging his muscle mass from the way it was shaping the leather and chainmail sections of his armor. Her interest was open, and unconcerned: she was a powerful female, used to take what she wanted, when she wanted it. And in her eyes, he was not a "who", but a "what".

They went over the plan once more. She knew he would help, and she knew his contribution would be of capital importance for success. Her annoyance was partly mitigated by what seemed like a begrudging admiration for him, and by the fact she was convinced she knew his reasons for aiding her. He very much doubted she did, even though he had told her openly. He doubted she understood him. Nobody ever did.


Almost nobody. Almost...

The outcome would bring an era to an end, at least for those of the faith. A new one would begin, the one they envisioned. A better one for everyone, involved and bystanders, by the looks of it. The Lieutenant and the Regent would certainly be very pleased with the gold flow and the opportunities this would generate. He wasn't averse to getting richer, either...

Gold does not move you. She does. You know who I mean...and if you go through with this, she will die.

Not if he could stop it, of course. And there was little he couldn't do, at this point. He just needed to

She won't consent...

convince her certain measures needed to be put in place, and

She won't listen, as usual...

then, he would be able to keep his promises to all the involved, and everybody would win.

...and if you try to save her anyway, you'll fail AND die with her.

The irony of it brought an ill-timed smile to his lips, which his interlocutor completely misinterpreted, fortunately without consequences. He needed to focus, or he'd be dead far earlier than expected, and in a far more useless fashion...

Now...our pride would never allow that, would it?!
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
User avatar
Invoker
Posts: 1392
Joined: Thu Jan 23, 2014 5:21 pm

Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

Unread post by Invoker »

Preparations
He walked out of the Tower of the Masked Mage and headed immediately towards the ghetto with quick, heavy steps. Under his armored glove, the ring of non-detection felt tight, but comfortable...The Mistress had been right, as usual. He was lucky she had welcomed his proposal, instead of...the alternative.

Once in the ghetto, he proceeded deeper and deeper without slowing down, nor wielding weapons. He felt their eyes upon him. Three. Six. Eight? When he thought he put together a sufficient amount of them, he stopped dead, looking around for the first time. He spread his cloak, arms demonstratively wide, before vanishing once again within his mantle:


"Shall we begin? I haven't got all cycle..."

The first two assailants were stopped dead by one heavy crossbow quarrel each. While the first one was shot through the heart and died before touching the ground, the second one gurgled to a slow death, the projectile driven through his throat. The dark-clad warrior let the two crossbows fall to the ground, as his hands vanished once more within the folds of his large, jet-black cape:

"Oh, I'm sorry. Never been a good shot, and I am even out of practice..."

Throwing daggers killed the second pair, one coming from the shadows on each of his sides. The throws were so brutal, the lowlifes were killed by their snapping necks even faster than their head wounds:

"Hm. Better..."

He vaulted, dodging the dagger attack of his next victim as his sword hand went to the hilt of the two-handed sword strapped to his back. The extraction became a full vertical slash cutting the female in two and hitting the ground with such force, the blade bounced back up, preparing the thrust with which he spitted the next attacker's heart, their faces a mere hand's-breadth from each other. Pivoting on the elbow he lodged in the corpses' chest, he used the momentum he created to free his weapon, twirling away as the dead body fell limp to the blackened floor.

The attacks stopped, eyes watching him from a safe distance, deep within the shadows, almost transfixed before the big, black wolf with crimson eyes and a long, steel fang. Blade held high, point towards them, he spoke:


"Good. Now that we established a chain of command, bring me someone my size. He needs to be a male, big enough to fit my armor. If you don't do as I say, I will keep killing you until I find one. If you do, you'll be spared and rewarded. Shouldn't be a difficult choice, so you have five seconds before I restart cutting you down."
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
User avatar
Invoker
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Joined: Thu Jan 23, 2014 5:21 pm

Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

Unread post by Invoker »

Ghost
The guard captain evaluated him with a long, appraising look. He could almost read his thoughts as the experienced warrior took in the details. He clearly appreciated his size and muscle mass, and was impressed with the quality of his equipment: a mithral full plate is a very rare thing to behold, and even more so on an aspiring recruit. And yet, doubt shrouded his magenta gaze. The applicant was strikingly handsome, his age difficult to define. No visible scars on his face, which should be a sign of little to no combat experience...but then, how did he kill three of his men in less than six seconds...with their own weapons?

"Think faster, captain. I am getting bored."

The candidate was sitting on the largest chair available, his leg dropped casually over the armrest, his elbows as wide as the chain connecting his wrists comfortably allowed. Five fully armed and armored men were standing mere steps behind him, utterly alert. Suddenly, he broke the silence:

"Who are you, what are you doing in my city, and why in the Nine Hells did you kill my men?"

The killer raised an eyebrow, before replying blankly:

"So, you speak. Excellent. I am the solution to your problem, I am waiting for a friend and I mainly killed them so that this meeting would happen immediately. I'm not a patient male."

"How did you know I wouldn't just execute you?"

"Every piece of information I gathered on you told me otherwise. Besides, I let your men put me in chains, to make you feel at ease. Of course, I could kill them fairly easily. Even now." As metallic sounds behind him started, he added, calmly: "You might want to order them to stand down, captain. Or I'll slaughter them all with the first blade any of them draws."

The officer nonchalantly raised a hand, and the bared inches of steel slid back into the respective scabbards. Well trained men. It would have been a real waste to end them just to prove a point.

"Which problem of mine can you solve, exactly? So far, you merely costed me three good warriors."

"The escaped slaves. Those you let slip almost two tendays ago, led by the halfblood cavestalker. How many men did you lose to the traps? Fifteen? Eighteen? I forget..."

"Who-"

"-told me?!" he chuckled, amused. "Please..."

"Very well, then. What about them?" He was losing his patience, now. Trying to get to the point as fast as possible. Good...

"I can get them back for you, dead or alive. I just need two of your men..."

The captain shook his head, laughing in disbelief "Two?!"

"...to carry my extra weapons, and the necessary amount of restraints."

The jaluk had stopped laughing now, looking at him as if he were completely insane.

"As if"...?!

"You have five cycles."

"Two."

"AS IF"?!

Once again the seasoned veteran's head shook as he snorted.

"If you live through it, consider yourself hired. So...what about this friend of yours? When will he come?"

"She. And I never said she would. I simply said I'm waiting."

After another long pause, he finally remarked:

"I didn't catch your name...

"I didn't give it."

"So...do you even have one?"

The behemoth of a male that had been Blackblade for almost two centuries, and someone else for over a century before that, grinned wolfishly as he replied:

"Yes. Of course I do."
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
User avatar
Invoker
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Joined: Thu Jan 23, 2014 5:21 pm

Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

Unread post by Invoker »

Sword Savant
The slender male in black suddenly dodged sideways, whirling to a 180 degree turn as his longsword sang its way out of the inlaid scabbard, two darts whistling a palm away from his dark mantle, right through where he had been a moment before. Several more were shot at him as he danced through the sword forms, the runic blade ablaze with arcane power tracing deadly patterns through the vibrating air before him, deflecting everything he didn't dodge.

Suddenly, he was close enough to one of the two aggressors to engage in melee. The goblin was killed in a blink, his hands and head cut off, his heart pierced, his back full of the darts his companion had intended for his opponent. As the body fell limp, dead before touching the ground, the swordsman in velvet, silk and dark leathers elegantly deflected a last salvo with his weapon, arching and eyebrow and giving the shooter a meaningful look, as if to prove a point.

Finally realizing the situation, the surviving goblin turned tail and tried to run, but he burs into flames a few steps from a side tunnel's entrance at the Drow's casual gesture, almost distractedly weaving the lethal spell that killed him while seemingly intent on cleaning his sword on the corpse at his feet.

He turned around and kept walking towards Sshamath before the screams were even over, humming a motive of his own.

Not long now.
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
User avatar
Invoker
Posts: 1392
Joined: Thu Jan 23, 2014 5:21 pm

Re: Myths and Legends of the Endless Night

Unread post by Invoker »

Introducing to you
He was promptly introduced to all the available, relevant Bregan D'aerthe's members by the Mistress herself, in their own compound. These were to be his new colleagues, and therein lied the challenge: he wasn't used to work in a unit. He had operated alone for most of his life, surrounded by expendable allies at best...and he had contributed to getting them killed as much as the assignments he had. Nevertheless, the Mistress deemed him the best choice to replace his predecessor as Bregan's Representative within the 7th Circle.

The Master of Hounds maintained a detached, professional attitude, but nobody else really pretended to even tolerate the term "replacement", of course. In only half a year, Blackblade had inspired loyalty and respect within these legendary mercenaries. That was not something easy to replace. Or even replaceable at all. Fortunately enough, he was not there to do that. He had his own style and skillset, and had to tread his own path.

He would meet the Conjurer himself, and show him what he was capable of.

And then, all would become crystal clear.

For everyone involved.
This twisted culture got you feeding from its hand
But you will lose that food if you don't meet all their demands
And loyal is the soldier that gets slaughtered with the lambs
Examining the blueprints got you questioning the plans
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