(O.o I said I was making the topic and had the last relavent posts so I don't know why you come to the assumtion I intended to start all over, Greg. In any case I only have the last three posts, but since my memory is nigh infinite [at least with a few reminders] you can pm to ask about anything in the devoured posts. Below this are the last three posts in order of posting.)
Vernon almost wanted to leap across the pathetic little line the half-celestial drew and prove the fool worng even further, but laziness, common sense, and the notice that he was not quite so alone on the roof kept him rooted. Over the chaos of scream and screechs, Vernon heard footsteps behind him. Another random do-gooder hoping to salvage Taras by defeating the nasty rat no doubt. Yet it didn't seem so, her footsteps were slow and cautious, but not stealthy. The scent given off was one of a female, possibly elven yet he couldn't exactly tell sort of elf by scent alone, but there was a strage scent about her similar to that of dragons. How curious. What was she doing up here it it was not to to attack him? Didn't she know the foul green fog that slolwy fell downward and was more than likely hazardous to her health? Her simple and short question as she came to his side offered little hint into her intentions.
"I would certainly say so. People run wildly through the streets with foul clouds threatening to kill them, bats swarm around them to keep many of them under the clouds' cover, and the one fool to oppose me did an incredible job of setting himself up for defeat. I would certainly say my words have merit," Vernon snickered as the summoned angel vanished from sight in a breif flash of light. Vernon was almost disappointed to see the creature dealt with so easily. He couldn't very well target Gregory with an spells, the swarm did well to get in the way, yet he could always give the swarm a little aid with his crossbow, but that wasn't neccesary. Vernon noticed that the green fog was finally low enough to start taking effect on the roof, prehaps Gregory hadn't been entirely stupid in getting off it. It would still take a while before the cloud came down to Gregory and even longer before it took full effect on the roof. Gregory might get lucky and cut in the into the swarm's numbers enough to cause it to disband and disperse in fear before the fog go to him, though at this rate he'd likely be tired and out f breath by that time, but if he didn't get rid of then in time the toxic fog would do the job for him as the bats with their small aerial bodies were more suceptible to the poisons of the fog. As for Muna, he wondered how long before his rooftop guest was left choughing, choking and suffocating or if she, like himself was immune to it's toxin.
Vernon sheathed his blade with one hand as he looked over at his guest. He it seemed he had no more need of it, and if proved he could easily make used of the deadly daggers at his side. She seemed to be some sort of elf half dragon, though holding the general appearance of an elf. He couldn't even tell what sorrt of elf by her looks. Too light skinned to be a drow, but maybe she was one of those moon elves. Though, the important question wasn't what as she, but rather what did she want.
She watched the summoned being disappear and eyed Gregory then. He was not a good judge of power. She doubted the elven celestial was immune to poison and this rat reeked of it. In a way it reminded her of her encounter with that mutated almost dragon who killed the horse she had been already hunting. She had been put off by that and the fact he then started to spoil the food by cutting it apart to cook. Why someone would burn their food first was something she wouldn’t do with her food, but she knew it was an incredibly common thing to do. Gregory didn’t really have a chance and she wouldn’t be at all surprised if Vernon didn’t just finish him off.
“He doesn’t seem to be much of a challenge.” Muna commented as the fog descended on them. She turned her pure black eyes back to the large rat. “Words, I think, have as much value as appearances. Though if your words hold as much merit as you claim they do…” Muna trailed off, both for emphasis and because she really didn’t want to breath the fog. It wasn’t the poison she was worried about though, but the moisture. There was enough moisture in the air from the sea, let alone being able to see it. Water always made her feel, for a lack of words, dirty and in need of a complete drying out. Drying out as in basking in the noontime sun when it reached a hundred plus degrees. She doubted she would die from breathing it, but she was worried that the moisture would gather in her lungs and cause her breath weapon to falter. She also wasn’t sure the best way to get rid of that moisture.
She pushed those thoughts from her mind, ideally wondering weather or not this large vermin would comment about her not breathing. She needed something that didn’t dissolve or weaken when exposed to toxin. That was why she had come so far south. She was becoming increasingly more disappointed at the fact she wasn’t finding anything. Perhaps most dragons simply had fragile hoards of decorative things, which would explain why she had never seen one for her mother and father. “I’m looking for something and I think you can likely assist me. Let me know when you’re done here.” That was about it. She couldn’t use any more then a word or perhaps two short ones without taking another breath of air. Muna sat down on the edge of the roof then, ignoring the fog and for all intents and purposes, seeming very much a simple spectator at some sort of event.
At last, after much swinging and relentless flailing about, he was down to the last few bats. It had seemed like he had been spinning for days, and upon reach the last he summoned up the last bit of power he had in his arms and hammered downwards, grounding the bat. He had never viewed bats as being any bit of a challenge, and this time they were not. In such numbers, though, it was quite tiring to take them all down, but he managed to pull it off with no damage, merely exhaustion. I would have preferred the damage in this scenario... As he gasp for air to catch his breath he gazed up at the roof, and two dark figures were standing side-by-side in a green fog, that was slowly moving downwards. Nevertheless, he could not give up.
"B-Bastard..." His words were loud, but weak, and he new that he was just proving how worn out he was, but that did not matter. With a great effort, he lifted his spear back and slowly shuffled his feet to the defensive position. With a grunt, he lit up the spear with a weak and fluctuating holy light, and stood ready. If I die fighting this mutant, I will consider it a good death...
(My up to date post)
She had a point, it was always so easy to tell a lie and tables could be turned so easily, as a matter of fact this whole ordeal began out of his favor. Yet in still for every point she had she lacked another, if it looked like a duck sounded like a duck, and walked like a duck it was pretty darn likely a duck. Her greatest point, however; had no counter measure, for he didn't seem much of a challenge. This was a simple day out in the market compared to his rumble with Munwithurix. It was a good thing that that abnoxious dragon now seemed out of his way and most hopefully permanently. There'd be no others to try and steal his ownership of the marshes, though of course there weren't who would want to d that in the first place.
"Ah, well in that case I'm glad you can trust my appearances so well..." Vernon replied as he watched the last of his summoned bats scatter from their swarm fearing the being that had reduced their large numbers. Their cowardice too led to their deaths, as they flew too high into the toxic cloud. Vernon was surprised that gregory had managed put them off before the cloud had done the chore for him, but he was even more surprised when the half-celestial called out for more. Of course the fool would be too dumb to run away.
"It appears the fool is eager for his death, and I can't have him getting what he wants," Vernon snickered as he reached into the pockets of his bag and pulled out two long claws. Demonic claws, painful to the forces of good an even moreso to celestial beings, and not a deadly poison on them unlike most of his weaponry. He wove a simple spell as he fitted the claws over his own more deadly clawed fingers and slowly a thin yellowish liquid coated the claws. Not a deadly poison but rather one to put him to sleep. Oddly enough it'd be his best chance at keeping the fool from dieing from the poison.
"I'll try not to keep you waiting too long," Vernon said before jumping of the roof. There was a loud sickening crunch as one of the trampled bodies softed his fall and brought blood on Vernon's boots. Claws weren't the best match against a spear, but if he could get in close enough things would run somoothly from there.
Muna smiled to herself as the rat spoke. He hadn’t gotten her point with words or appearances. Perhaps he would later if and when any information he had proved useful in her little weapon or item search. Life for the most part was a façade anyways, at least the way she lived it. She could appear to be nearly anything she was given a chance to study, her best forms being of a female dwarf and a similarly aged elf girl. She really didn’t consider most things a threat due to the fact of her dragon’s blood and the only thing she was really concerned about was meeting another dragon. She still had yet to meet one, well besides that monster who smelled of dragon but clearly wasn’t one.
The claws that he pulled out caught her attention and she simply nodded as he went to deal with his... could you call him a foe? Perhaps this meeting would prove more valuable then it first appeared. If he had access to claws like that then he would likely be able to direct her to similar items. Perhaps she may even be able to do him sort of favor, especially as his attempt at death and destruction seemed to have gone astray from the defiant man standing so bravely and utterly drained below them. The fog was settling quickly still, though it had yet to meet the street below. She lifted her arm as Vernon dropped below to run her hand through the poison fog about her. It swirled about her false dark appearance, a few beads of toxin collecting on her skin. She felt a slight sting at first before her body balanced it out. It itched slightly and she wondered if it was from the water or the poison. She had a feeling it was the water. Annoyed she whipped her hand off on her dress. The poison wasn’t as acidic as her own though. It didn’t eat through the fabric. Perhaps that was it then. His own toxins were not as corrosive as hers.
If this little venture turned out to be another dead end she might well have to give up on the entire concept. Did all dragons really have hoards anyways? Perhaps she should find that out first and seek out another dragon first. That might be the next step. She really didn’t know where to start looking though. There was a rumer of a library, and a magic school somewhere around here. Dragons were magical beasts so perhaps she should seek out someone who studied magic or even take up the mantle herself.
Gregory edged foreword slightly as the rat attached some odd sort of clawed weapon to his hand. He was beginning to get dizzy, and he needed to grip the earth so he did not stumble and show weakness before his death. He saw the odd claws gleam with some unknown syrup-like liquid, and he knew that he would not win this fight. His vision blurred momentarily as he almost lost consciousness, and he did not dare follow the sight of the rat as it jumped down to meet him. He had not imagined that the bats would make him this tired, and surely they wouldn't, but the effects of the thin cloud of poison that foreshadowed a great cloud above was taking it's toll.
The spear shivered slightly as he maintained his grip on the shaft, watching the rat's every move as if in slow motion. The vision of an angel appeared in his sights, and he was unsure as what to think. His mother had told tales of the angels of death, black winged angels that guided those who died to their proper place, but this was a woman with bright white wings and a cold, crooked smile. The angels had come to witness his death, he thought. Perhaps he was being judged worthy of ultimate rebirth as one of them, or never-ending death and pain found in failure. He had always been sure he was a good person, but now he was scanning over all of the bad actions in his life, and he was growing bleak.
The angel watched him in an amused degrading way, almost as if she was weighing him like a piece of meat at a butchers shop. He vision grew much more blurry as he watched the girl watch him, and red began to cloud his thoughts. He had failed his new angel and Tyrandil had left him, and now he was being judged for these recent actions and his life was being judged as he spoke. Anger clouded his thought, and with one more exhalation a newfound energy leapt to him. This energy was fueled by rage and rage alone. His father had told him to avoid this, how after this there was nothing left, but right now he thought he had nothing to lose, and he allowed the flames of hatred consume him.
His feet threw him foreword as he swung his spear, watching it swing through the air towards the rat man. His eyes flared bestially, and a deep roar that surprised even him filled the air between the two with noise. His staff was growing brightly with white light, brighter than it ever had before, but his golden aura was a thin yellow line compared to its usual glory. This was the end, and he had to fight harder than ever for good if he was to pass judgment. The angel was still above, still smiling. Still judging.