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| Good Deeds in Kellen; Private | |
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| Topic Started: Thu Jul 29, 2010 11:41 pm (201 Views) | |
| Valens | Thu Jul 29, 2010 11:41 pm Post #1 |
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Valens took heavy steps across the dirt road of the Village of Kellen, weariness slowing down his progress across the town. Valens had only departed the temple where he received his training a few weeks ago, eager to spread his healing powers. Now, he almost regretted his choice. He had travelled nonstop, eating little food, and resting on the cold hard ground. But he had reached his first stop, the Village of Kellen. Why he had chosen this particular place, the young cleric did not know. At the temple, a large variety of travelers came from all across the land. But one particular traveler struck a chord, imprinting the name of the village's name into his memory. Valens had been tending to the temple gardens that day, where many of the priests, clerics, and healers liked to spend time to themselves. His head twisted immediately at the pounding of hoof beats from the nearby road. A cloud of dust followed a strong, black horse, which was barreling down the dirt path the large, stone temple. Valens' head followed the horse and rider as he intently watched the sheer display of power and beauty radiating from the animal. The connection between the rider and animal was almost palpable; each delicate shift of the rider was instantly mimicked by the graceful creature as he galloped. The horse soon skidded to a stop as the pair neared the temple. The rider dismounted from the horse with a quick leap, swinging from one side onto the ground. The man was clad in basic leather armor, the only distinction being the image of the horse imprinted on the side of his right shoulder. He had ear length black hair, which was matted in sweat due to the oppressive summer heat. His face was weary; his eyes looked weak and tired. Valens' watched intently as the man entered the temple. Intrigued, he followed the man inside. The rider stood near the entrance, obviously unsure of the intricacies of the temple. Valens approached him, and asked ", do you require healing? We offer a warm, loving place to heal both the body and soul." The man's eyes looked tired, but still burned with a passion. "My wife," he began, his voice strong, though wavering with exhaustion. "She is having trouble birthing our son." Valens nodded, and led the man to a fully trained priest, as he was only an apprentice. The priest bowed slightly to Valens, signaling him to leave. Valens left briskly, as to not disrespect the privacy of the passionate traveler, but could not help but overhear "the Village of Kellen," as he left. His eyes sparkled as he walked away, eager to explore the world behind him. Valens knew he wasn't destined to become a robe wearing priest, and yearned to explore the world, with well travelled shoes, and the memories of his closest friends and comrades. Now, Valens had finally arrived to the village of the man he had meet at the temple, and possibly the most motivated man he had met his whole life. Valens was eager to help the village, but he was unsure how. All the cleric had was a few healing spells, a standard mace, and a backpack packed with a few essentials. But he was determined to do good, throughout the world, starting with this one village. So with renewed vigor, he followed the main road of the village, his eyes yearning to help in any way possible. "Help!" came a distressed call from a nearby building. Valens quickly responded, running towards the direction of the call. His mind raced, unsure of how to react. He quickly rounded the edge of a weathered stone building, which looked long since abandoned. As he skidded to a halt, he saw a masked bandit wrestling with a young, blonde haired man, trying to grab the small cloth coin purse, which jingled loudly throughout the scuffle. The bandit pushed his victim to the floor, and grabbed a knife from his side. All Valens had done up to this point was watch with mouth agape. He always had been more "street smart" than his fellow apprentices, which was why he eagerly left the temple to share his healing power, but now, he was frozen. "Aaaagh!" The man screamed at the top of his lungs as the knife plunged towards his hearth, his bruised eye leaking tears, his broken arm hanging limp in a useless attempt to protect himself. Valens jumped to action, knowing he had to help now. He said a brief word of magic power, and almost instantly, a white circle encompassed the injured man. The blade of the attacker plunged into the shield, slowing to a halt several inches away from the heart. The holy shield, created by Valens had protected the man for now. The bandit turned around, facing the now empowered Valens. "Leave him alone!" Valens shouted, with less force than he intended. "I'm gonna have fun with this one," the attacker grumbled with a sadistic look in his eye. "Mutilating you holy types always makes my day." Valens drew his mace, and entered an almost comical "battle" stance. With a roar, the villain charged, and it was all Valens could do to hold his ground. (Sorry, first post since I came back  )
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| Hecate | Fri Jul 30, 2010 5:22 am Post #2 |
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Hecate wandered through the deep trees of the forest, her cloak billowing peacefully. In one hand, she clutched her dagger. The bloodied weapon dripped slowly to the ground, the crimson liquid staining the perfect green grass cushioning her walk. Her yellow cloak billowed in the wind, its edges imprinted by the claws of what seemed like hundreds of bloodied hands. Her face, so serene, was smiling, despite the carnage surrounding her. Corpses lay stiff in the springy grass, mouths still agape in terror. Their eyes were only composed of their whites, their pupils entirely gone. Hecate was surrounded by bodies, the forest, and pure bliss. However, suddenly, a large towering figure appeared from behind a tree. The man was tall and large, built with epic proportions. He was surrounded by a white light that swirled about him. The light radiating about him suddenly grew even brighter, shining all through the forest. With a gasp, Hecate watched as this man undid all her work. The bodies all about her suddenly let out shrieks, their eyes suddenly jerking back to life, their bodies writhing into hideous life, their souls slithering back into their bodies. All the corpses rose, each one still stained in their own blood. The man raised his mace, pointing to Hecate, his white light still swirling in power. Hecate froze as all her former victims shuffled towards her, as alive as they once were before she wrecked her beautiful active. She felt their spite and anger as they all pounced upon her, clawing at her flesh. Hecate let out a scream as pain and suffering wracked her body. However, she wasn't in a forest with a man with an army of angry victims. Instead, she was nuzzled into the arm of a tree, exactly where she set herself to sleep. She sighed, lowering herself down onto the ground of Norwood forest. In the east, the sun was rising, coming up to greet the world. Once on the ground, she immediately pulled out her deck of fortune cards. Carefully concentrating, she shuffled the deck and laid out an assortment of cards. As soon as all the cards were laid out, her purpose became clear. The first card was a skull, resembling death. The second card was a set of scales. It was clear that the death earlier foreseen could be avoided. The last card was of a village. Using her powerful divination, she clearly interpreted her dream and the cards jointly. She needed to battle the healer in her dreams in the village the cards predicted. The only close village was Kellen, which rested exactly in the direction Hecate pointed her cards. It was clear if she didn't take care of this healer she would face fatal consequences. Hecate quickly set off, shuffling her cards back up into her cloak, heading directly to Kellen in a leisurely pace. It wasn't long till she finally made it to the lightly bustling village. She walked somewhat whimsically, crossing her legs or skipping lightly into a puddle. People naturally avoided her, sensing her bizarre nature. Others recognized her as the Witch of the Norwoods, and quickly ran indoors. However, she ignored them and kept her light (yet so dark) demeanor. Suddenly, while perusing the village for the healer she was destined to battle, a large chill ran down her spine. She knew he was close. The turned the corner into an ally, and sure enough, she immediately recognized the man as he quickly tried to protect a stabbing victim. Hecate stared at the bandit, her eyes meeting with his. The man froze, his knife suspended by the healer's shield. The struggling victim quickly shoved the bandit off him, and then noticed Hecate standing blankly at the end of the ally. That man too, similarly froze. Hecate's lips curled into what seemed to be the beginning of a laugh. However, she threw her head back, her mouth opening to reveal a Hellish abyss. Suddenly, she shrieked, her voice piercing into the air. The two men covered their ears, collapsing to the ground, screaming in pain, trying to crawl away in fear. Hecate laughed at their weakness, as they flailed about, trying their hardest to forget the terrible Howls of the Abyss they heard. "I've come for your head, hero," Hecate said with a high pitched laugh. She drew her dagger slowly, feeling the tip of the blade. A drop of red blood suddenly dripped from her finger, falling and mingling with the dirt road below. "These streets will be red. Whose blood will it be?" she asked playfully. "The choice is yours," she answered, her arms limp at her side. She walked closer, her body apparently and deceptively non menacing. She moved slowly and purposefully, completely opposite from her childish demeanor in the village. Here, she was exuded power and confidence. Her body was long, and she moved almost seductively. Her eyes were slanted, filled with false passion. The mania and hatred beneath still shone through, and she seemed to shine with desire. Desire for passion, for death, for love, for violence. Most of all, for blood. Edited by Hecate, Fri Jul 30, 2010 5:33 am.
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| Valens | Fri Jul 30, 2010 6:01 pm Post #3 |
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Valens cautiously waited for the attack of the burly bandit. He knew he was severely outmatched. His weeks of travel and labor had left the cleric fitter than most "scholarly" types; however he was not stronger than the average man. The bandit was a gigantic brute, his huge arms easily overpowering his victim earlier. In fact, the dirty knife he wielded plunged far in the holy shield the healer had created, far deeper than a normal blow. There was obvious power in the attack, immense power. With a tug, almost as if pulling the knife from human flesh, the bandit yanked his knife from the faintly pulsing shield. He charged the healer, ready for a kill. Despite the difference in strength, Valens would defend himself to the best of his ability, taking advantage of his healing repertoire. However, a strange image from the corner of his eye caught his attention. All three men in the ally froze upon the strange visitor. She seemed to flow in the ally, a bright yellow cloak billowing behind her. Her face was pale and beautiful, yet shone with an unnatural bitterness. Her face curved into a nasty, malicious smile. Her smile continued to grow, into a sadistic laugh. The woman threw her head back, her copper hair flying about in all directions. Her mouth continued to open, looking almost demonic in proportion. She let out a terrible shriek, filling the air with a terrible sound that shook Valens' very core. He instantly collapsed on the ground, his fingers desperately scratching the hard stone road beneath him, blood seeping from his eyes from the terrible noise. He groaned and grunted, completely overwhelmed with pain to pay attention to the two other men, and the strange hostile new comer. He could do little to grasp the situation; he was desperately trying to overcome the intense pain. A high pitch ringing echoed in his ears as the chorus of abyssal shrieks came to an end. Valens was left panting on his hands and knees, his hands covered in dirt and debris from trying desperately to grasp reality. But he had endured it, for the time being. "I've come for your head, hero," said the woman in a sickly sweet voice, her voice becoming more tangible as the effects of the howl wore off. With an almost playful tone, she continued with her though "These streets will be red. Whose blood will it be?" Her light attitude did little to hide her evil nature. It radiated from her very being. Valens stumbled to his feet, trying his hardest to feign confidence. "The choice is yours," she added, as she slowly began walking down the alley, purpose in her step. She held a dagger limply at her side, but it was obvious to Valens what her intent was. Valens finally had reached his full composure, standing at his full height, his mace held in front of him in an offensive stance. "I don't know who you are, or why you want to kill me," Valens began, his voice rising in passion. "But I will kill you. And despite what you evil types may think, but I will enjoy taking your life from you in front of your own eyes. I'll savor the chance to rid the world from yet another evil being." With that statement, Valens charged, yelling a holy word. A holy shield formed around the charging cleric, pulsing with holy energy. He couldn't afford to let his guard down. As he approached the woman, he swung his mace out, aiming to hit her right side with the spiked weapon. |
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| Hecate | Fri Jul 30, 2010 7:22 pm Post #4 |
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Hecate was amused as the man tried to regain his power. "I don't know who you are, or why you want to kill me, but I will kill you. And despite what you evil types may think, but I will enjoy taking your life from you in front of your own eyes. I'll savor the chance to rid the world from yet another evil being." His voice rose in volume as his courage and passion flared. It was clear he was ready to attack, and attempt his hardest to kill her. She chuckled slightly at the thought of this man, clearly raised in the ways of morality and good, trying his hardest to end another beings life. Hecate felt almost certain that he would need a huge resolve to kill another living being. He didn't have what it took. Few actually had the ability, let alone the desire to kill others. This was something Hecate prided herself in. The man charged her, his mace clearly aiming for her right side. He ran with great speed, alarmingly shrugging off the effects of her powerful spell. She didn't have much time to prepare a spell, especially one to halt his frightening charge. Quickly, she abandoned her mock nonchalant stance for a defensive one, trying her hardest to brace herself for the upcoming attack. Before he reached her, she uttered several dark words, barely audible under her breath. The spell she cast established a barely discernable link between herself and her victim. Her Dark Omen flared whenever her magic struck him, making all her spells more effective. The attack finally came, connecting directly to her side. She desperately attempted to stab at her attacker, her knife only sinking an inch or so into the shield. She was tossed to the side of the alley, collapsing in a heap. Her head hung limp as she whimpered, clutching her now bleeding side. She sobbed as pain racked her body. "I'm, I'm" she coughed weakly, "sorry. I didn't mean to," she whispered, blood now spreading on the ground. She looked up at her attacker, her eyes showing her weakness. "Please forgive me," she pleaded. In that moment, she sent her mind out to the hero. Her magic penetrated him mind, implanting feelings of pity and regret into him. Her Emotion spell, empowered through her Dark Omen, sent feelings of remorse into him, making him feel pity for this woman, a frail woman he just violently struck with his gruesome mace. While the blow did hurt Hecate, it was nowhere near the killing blow she made it out to be. Lying in feigned pity and shame, Hecate awaited the young healer to become overwhelmed (with the aid of her invasive charm) by remorse and come to her aid. While he was close, she would launch her most devastating attack yet. Once he was left dying, slumped over defeated, she would show him no mercy. She lacked the caring, compassionate emotions that he clearly had. That made her strong, powerful. She made up for her weakness and frailty in powerful magic and deceptive tricks. And hopefully her deceitful plan would work, allowing her to blast away her new target, foretold by the divinitory powers granted to her. |
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| Valens | Sat Jul 31, 2010 3:39 am Post #5 |
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Valens was quickly overwhelmed with a sense of grim satisfaction as the heavy, spiked blunt weapon connected with the side of the woman. The spikes tore at her skin, causing blood to seep from her flesh onto her clothing. As the blow struck, he noticed from the corner of his eye the futile attempts of the woman to stab him. Her knife plunged, but was easily deflected by the holy shield he had created, as it had protected the victim of the man before (which, along with the attacker, had long since fled the scene of the attack). Valens was startled at her frantic counter attack; the shield itself was relatively weak. It was obvious this woman was a spell caster, and lacked the strength to kill with a weapon. Valens let his weapon hang at his side as the body of the woman collided with the side of the alley, a thud resonating soon after. She laid in a crumbled heap, like a discarded toy after a child had played with it. Her head hung limp to the side, her bronzed hair frantically scattered around her head. Her other hand clutched her side, blood seeping from the gash and leaking over her hands. A strange noise echoed from her. At first Valens thought the woman was suffering from a panic attack, but in fact, it was a stifled sob. "I'm, I'm" she coughed weakly, "sorry. I didn't mean to." Blood soon began to pool in a tiny pulled close to her side, a crimson reminder of the havoc Valens had just invoked. Slowly, emotions began to flood over him. "Please forgive me, “she said, looking up with eyes sparkling with intense feeling. His eyes locked with her gigantic green orbs. Intensely, a powerful jab emotion stabbed at his heart, like nothing else he had felt before. Overwhelming emotion flowed over him, his hearth throbbed with sympathy. His eyes began to burn with tears, leaking down upon his now flushed cheeks. His arms hung limply at his side, his mace fell with a loud CLANK upon the stone path way. The magic shield which had just protected him now gently pulsed away into the air, leaving a slight sparkle in the air. Valens gently walked towards the woman, collapsing upon his knees. Another tear dropped from his eye, landing with a loud plop on the path way. "I'm so sorry..." he began, gingerly reaching for the woman.”I didn't mean too," he began, his voice wavering slightly. "I'm sorry, I can fix this." His hand glowed with an intense bright blue, as he neared the woman. "This will help," he began, as he reached to heal the woman with his most powerful healing spell, Greater Heal. He knew he had to make this right, his heart was screaming for forgiveness. An almost unnatural desire to help the woman he had hurt, but he could not focus on the nature of these emotions. All he could do was fix what he had wronged. |
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| Hecate | Sat Jul 31, 2010 5:15 am Post #6 |
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Inside, Hecate was cackling with grim laughter, her heart pounding with anticipation. Just the mere thought of serving out sweet revenge caused her pulse to jump. However, she remained calm and pathetic on the outside. Her disguise, combined with the charm she cast on him, overwhelmed him into helping her. "I'm so sorry..." he began.”I didn't mean too, I'm sorry, I can fix this," he pleaded, his arm outstretched. He had already abandoned his holy shield and his mace, leaving himself utterly defenseless. His hand began to glow with intense blue light. She waited patiently as he carefully put his hand on her side. She quelled all her desire to lunge while he was close, quelled her desires to pounce upon him while he bent over her lovingly. It took all her willpower to control herself until after the conclusion of his spell. Not only would that allow her to become fully healed, but also force him to expend his precious energy. She wanted him as helpless as possible for her attack. Hecate's heart jumped with glee, her mind racing with sheer glee. She had not only deceived him into dropping his guard, but also fooled him into healing her back to full health! It was clear this spell was powerful, and probably also draining. Her charm had been so potent that he had been willing to expend his precious resources just to heal an enemy, an enemy that had already swore to kill him! She lolled her head about her shoulders in mock pain. The movement was all she could do to stifle the laughter building up inside her. His hand connected with her bloodied side. Her body was filled the warmth of his spell. She felt the bruises and cuts from his blow closing up rapidly. The energy flooded her, making her feel rejuvenated and renewed. After his spell concluded in a last wave of indescribable warmth, Hecate let her joy rush to the surface. She let her head hang limp, her hair hanging around like a tangled curtain surrounding her face. She laid her hand gingerly on his, carefully wrapping her slender fingers around his wrist. She looked up at her 'savior', her eyes filled with mock gratitude. In one instance, her expression changed from thankful to manic. Her fingers sprang to life, clutching his wrist and drawing him close. Her strength was surprising, uncharacteristic after her mock weakness mere moments ago during his initial attack. She took her dagger and plunged it directly towards his stomach as quickly as she could. It was clear that she had no intention of landing a killing blow, let alone one single blow. She intended to stab the man once desperate for forgiveness as many times as she could before he recovered from the shock and attempted to break free from her grasp. Her face was filled with a near insane expression, clearly revealing her intention to torture him as much as possible. It also revealed all the trickery she was capable of, and the pleasure she took in her intricate lie she planned so carefully only moments ago. Her eyes were filled with rage, anger, pleasure, insanity, hate. They were filled with so many dark things her pupils seemed to glow red with blood. |
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| Valens | Sat Jul 31, 2010 10:37 pm Post #7 |
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Valens hand gingerly made contact with the bloodied side of his victim. Emotions swarmed over him, he almost felt like he was drowning in sorrow in grief. The rational side of his brain screamed at him, urged him to leave the woman alone in the alley, to flee while he could. But it was quieted easily by his overpowering emotions. He had no desire of leaving, only of healing the injured woman. The pulsing blue energy he had created in his hand touched the area. Instantly, the energy laced throughout the cut. Blue tendrils flowed throughout the wound, repairing the damaged muscle and flesh. Valens rested on his heels, slightly light headed from the effort, as he watched the spell conclude its effect. The energy soon began to create flesh where once only disfigured cuts where. The flesh soon began to unravel and reattach, holding together where once had been a brutal wound. The area was a faint pink, and was smooth like new baby's skin. Valens could not help but watch in wonder at the miraculous deed. He closed his eyes for a moment, grateful for his chance to do good. A bead of sweat dropped from the side of his head. He was nearing exhaustion from casting multiple shields and the powerful healing spell. As he rested, his emotions soon began to settle. He had righted his wrong. Slowly, his logical side began to catch up with the rest of his thoughts. Why had this woman been injured in the first place? She had lunged to attack him, hadn't she? Why was he helping the deranged lunatic who had only moments ago tried to stab him with a knife? Valens began to stand up, looking at the woman with a strange look. Suddenly, the woman grabbed his wrist, catching him off guard as he was attempting to stand on his feet. She yanked Valens down, with more force than he had anticipated. He was easily caught off balance, and crashed to the floor. The woman still held the knife in her hand, and lurched forward. Her movements were erratic and spasmodic, her frayed hair flying in every which direction. Valens caught a glimpse of her eyes in the struggle. They gleamed almost unnaturally. She was filled with a sadistic, murderous glee, like nothing the cleric had ever seen before. He let out a yell, trying to pull his wrist from the woman, while trying to regain his balance. Suddenly, he heard a loud rip. The knife had plunged into his stomach. Valens could feel the cold steel invading into him. His skin felt cold and clammy, a bead of cold sweat dripped from him. From his stomach, warm blood seeped from the wound, an almost refreshing change from the coldness of death he felt beginning to wrap around him. Despite his nerves screaming for him to fall to the ground, he yanked his wrist away, all emotions of sympathy dead inside him. He desperately shuffled away from the attacking woman, still hunched over in sheer pain. "You crazy demon! Stay away or I swear I'll yank your evil head off your shoulders!" The words came out ragged and exhausted, despite his effort. He brought his hand to his belly, casting the spell Greater Heal . Once again, his hand glowed a bright blue, magic tendrils wrapping throughout the wound. The flesh and muscled closed and repaired, leaving a bright pink mark shining through the bloodied hole in the shirt. Another bead of sweat dripped from his head. He was completely exhausted, but if he gave up, the woman would destroy him. "I can't lose," he mumbled under his breath. "This crazy woman will know I helped her defeat me. I can't suffer that kind of shame." He raised his hand above his head, his voice growing steadily louder. "I can't lose to you!" Valens' hand began to glow a bright yellow color, holy energy beginning to radiate. "I'll destroy you!" He roared, the spell coming into effect. He had cast Regenerate , which filled the area with a faint golden hue. Holy light flooded into him, leaving him feeling warm (a pleasant change from the cold plunge from the woman's dagger.) With the new empowerment from the spell, Valens began to run to the other side of the alley. He dived towards his mace, his only form of defense. As he grabbed the familiar hilt of the weapon he turned around, desperately trying to fend whatever attack the crazy woman might have done while his back was turned. |
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| Hecate | Sun Aug 1, 2010 3:54 am Post #8 |
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Hecate furiously plunged her dagger into his side, stabbing him deeply. Her eyes glowed with rage and intensity. The fervor pulsing through her body was practically tangible, making everything around her curl up in hatred and violence. The man quickly yanked himself from the witch, clearly caught off guard by her furious attack. Still slouched against the alley, she cackled with glee. Her sinister plot had worked, and she was no stronger and with the clear advantage because of it. Still slouched, he shouted towards her. "You crazy demon! Stay away or I swear I'll yank your evil head off your shoulders!" It was clear that the anger and rage building inside him was erupting. She recognized this stage in her attacks against her victims. Here, her victims felt like it was the last fight before they miraculously escaped. All the anger they felt towards her embodied itself in violence and rage. If she wasn't carefully, he could launch devastating attacks, even fatal blows. This was a fight for his life. Hecate, however, was beyond the point of normalcy. She ignored signs of defeat, death, and surrender. Her brain always worked in a strangely cool, calculated way, despite her erratic behavior. During combat, she carefully watched her opponents and was capable to devise and execute precise plans, even while her opponent launched blows at her. She lacked sheer strength, but made up for it in agility and magical potency. Combined with her maniacal genius, she was capable of combining charms, fear tactics, and underhanded ploys to gain the upper hand against even the most deadly enemies. Despite her calculating mind in combat, she was very unpredictable at times. She often struck the most random targets, babbling in half understood words about prophesies revealed to her. While it was true she was a potent physic and prophet, most of these rants were mad ramblings that were truly of no prophetic origin. Her lunacy was due to her prolonged exposure to the Calamnah forest, an evil desecrated place where even the wildlife were transformed to hideous beasts. Because she was raised in such a terrible place, her mind had been changed to something violent and dangerous. She mistook her paranoia and lunacy for prophecies and divinations, often attacking the most innocent people. However, while her mind changed to a violent, anger filled thing, her intellect remained untouched. Combined with her altered, evil state, her intellect made her into a dangerous being, truly capable of the terrifying, violent, and deadly. The hero she recently played into healing her quickly shuffled away and healed himself, still prone. Her were eyes slowly dimming, but still bright with manic desire. The man rose as well, preparing his assault. Hecate heard him mumbling under his breath. All she could make out was "I can't lose...I can't suffer that kind of shame". The witch chuckled, her pride and glee overtaking all other emotions. Before she could reprimand him for his absolute ridiculousness, he charged for his mace, racing for his weapon, leaving his back exposed for only a moment. Hecate took the opportunity quickly, quickly springing forward and pouncing onto his exposed back. She aimed to cling onto him, and stab him wildly with her dagger, attempting to stab his hand while he groped for his weapon, piercing his flesh and the floor beneath it. |
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| Saeborn | Mon Aug 2, 2010 5:02 am Post #9 |
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The large bathing house stood in the middle of the thriving magical city. Statues of the former gods filled the halls, pictures of kings and Queens littered the walls, creating a warm environment. Smaller pools of water lay here and there, men and children bathing, cleansing themselves of all that was done wrong. A large empty pool stood in the center of the room, that looked as if it were created for the gods itself, crafted with the purest of gems and tiles. Removing his robe, Saeborn began removing all clothing from his body. He slowly lowered himself into the empty pool, stretching his long bony hands forward. His eyes rolled back up into their sockets as he began reciting the incantation. Water slowly began to flow from the cracks between the tiles that had formed from being dry and barren for so long. After what seemed to be forever, the water flow had ceased. Scooping the warm water with his hands, the battle worn mage began to remove the stains of dry blood that had tainted his skin. Upon returning to his room, the caster flopped himself on the mattress formed from hay and cloth, exhausted from a long day of battle. Sprawled out on his bed, the room seemed to get darker and darker, eventually fading to black as his eye lids closed and his mind quickly drifted off into another world. Dreams pursued, as he found himself on the large velvet and gold throne, thousands of people begging for mercy at his feet on their hands and knees. *Slam* The sorcerer bolted upright, shocked by the loud slam of what seemed to be his room door. Searching around for what seemed to be even slightly odd or out of place. Opening the drawers to his wardrobe, the mage felt a magic like he had felt never before. Reaching into his pocket, the sorcerer grasped a hold of a small scroll. A small gem lay on the scroll, encased in silver and gold. The crystal in the center glowed a feint hue of blue. Unrolling the scroll, glowing letters revealed themselves to Saeborn in a language he had never before encountered, except one word caught his attention, Kellen. Reaching for his bag containing all of his things, including all his weapons, he reached in a searched for the small scrap of paper in his bag containing the drawn picture of his mother and sister. Peering upon the picture of his former family, tears began to flow from his eyes, clouding his vision. Saeborn began to remember his childhood in the Village of Kellen, his mother coming home from work late at night baring their nights portion of food. The small blue stone in his hand began to grow warmer and warmer, glowing brighter and brighter by the second. A small blue orb floated from the stone and towards the center of the room. The orb began to grow and grow, revealing its real purpose as a vision of Kellen formed in the portal. In shock, the sorcerer grabbed for his things that were out and shoved them in his bag. Reaching towards the portal, the mage stepped through, gasping for air as mystical energy pulsed through his body. Suddenly all went white. The room was small and warm, lit by candles, and smelled of baking chicken. A woman stood over her fireplace, turning the bird as it cooked. Reaching around for his things, the mage found himself laying on a bed of fresh linens. Standing to his feet, Saeborn reached for his bag perched on a small wooden hook on the wall, and for the small gem that had caused this strange happening. The sounds of screaming began in uproars out side in the streets. Opening the door the the cottage and thanking the woman, Saeborn found himself in the midst of a on going brawl between a holy man and a evil witch looking woman. Reaching for his staff inside his bag, he withdrew the staff given to him by his mentor, known as Raimaru. Pulling the wind staff forward, the mage shot a whirlwind towards them, in an attempt to get both of their attentions. |
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| Valens | Mon Aug 2, 2010 6:46 pm Post #10 |
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Valens quickly spun around to face the attacker, uncertain what the woman's next attack would be. She was lunging for him, her wicked and bloody dagger aimed to stab him yet again. Valens held his mace in front of him horizontally, hoping to shove her quickly enough so that the woman would not have a chance to stab him. Time seemed to move slowly as her knife slowly plunged towards him. Something strange out of the corner of his eye caught Valens' attention. There was another man in the alley way. He was too different to be one of the two men that Valens' had seen grappling earlier. This man was much too slim to be the brutish bandit. In fact, he was built like an elf. He wore long flowing clothes, and had brown hair, which made him think the elf was a mage. The fact he held a powerful looking staff confirmed his idea. The man raised a strange looking staff, unlike anything the cleric had seen before. The elf was aiming the staff at Valens and the woman! Unsure of the staff's function, Valens quickly mumbled the holy words of power, creating a faintly pulsing shield of holy energy to protect himself. From the staff came a powerful gust of wind. It hit him like a brick wall, different from any wind he had ever felt before. Only once before had he been outside in such a powerful wind storm. In the temple he had grown up in, he had exited during a storm to assist an old lady inside. But this wind was different. It was made maliciously, and with magic, its purpose to cause harm. The windstorm Valens’ had been in was from nature. Though powerful, he could almost sense nature’s good will. But this wind was powerful, and created for the sole purpose of harming whatever it could. The elf mage was certainly potent. But instead of being pushed backwards, Valens could feel himself being sucked into the certain of the vortex. From the certain of the staff, came a powerful bolt of lightning. The function of the whirlwind was not only to disorient the enemy, but to pull it into the certain for the staff's true purpose, which was the bolt of lightning. Valens' feet dragged against the ground, in a desperate and futile attempt to stop the suction and protect himself against the bolt. The bolt struck him only a few moments later. Valens' clenched his eyes, uncertain of how powerful the strike would be. When he opened his eyes only seconds later, he saw the faint light of holy energy fade into the air, which crackled with electricity. Once again, his holy shield had protected him. Valens quickly backed into the alleyway, trying to get a grasp on the situation. Finally, feeling overwhelmed, he shouted as loudly as he could "Stop!" Now more quietly he began ", Just stop! What is going on here? Who are you people!?!" Despite his plea for all to stop, he still held his mace as a futile attempt to defend himself. Edited by Valens, Tue Aug 3, 2010 5:34 pm.
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| Hecate | Mon Aug 2, 2010 7:29 pm Post #11 |
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Hecate was dragging herself across the ground, lunging time after time towards the young man she was pursuing, her knife plunging deeply into the ground each time she missed. Suddenly, she noticed her victim pause, looking towards the alley's entrance. She turned to look as well, finding a new man standing in the alley way, observing the vicious fight that was ensuing. The newcomer was tall and thin, with ill fitting robes that billowed in the soft evening breeze of the plains. He had a unique staff, clearly an artifact, and seemed to come from nowhere. He seemed to radiate with magic. It was clear that he was a powerful mage. Suddenly, Hecate's analysis turned into a vision. The man became enormous, looming over her. He towered over trees and buildings. He slammed his staff into the ground, creating a huge crater. His body was pulsing with a bright purple arcane energy. The magic power around him cackled, manifesting itself into fire and water, lightning and water. It was clear that he commanded whatever he could. Suddenly, energy began to manifest all about. The elf raised his hands high into the air, sucking all the energy he could find inside of him. Then, she felt a ripping, tearing feeling deep inside her. All her power and energy began to slip out of her, rushing towards the mage. She let out a shriek, desperately trying to fight back the leech stealing from her. Suddenly back in the alley, Hecate gasped back into reality. Her brain worked quickly, analyzing her vision. It didn't take long for her to understand that this mage was power hungry. Who knows how he obtained the unique staff he was now using, or the magic he no doubt had in his repertoire. She reacted quickly, trying to justify her vision. Tapping into her energy, she peered deeply at the man’s soul. Her fears were confirmed. He was a ruthless man, willing to do just about anything to make himself more powerful. Hecate was simultaneously overjoyed and worried with this discovery. It was clear she would need to be extra careful in dealing with him. He probably had a vast amount of artifacts and spells and his disposal. On the other hand, she knew defeating him would be an extraordinary feat that would crush his willpower and destroy his ego. Defeat for him would be equivalent to death. She relished in the idea of plunging her knife into his side, paralyzing him, listening to his pleas for mercy while his own brain tried to grapple with the idea of defeat. Suddenly, the mage raised his staff, sucking the two into a wind vortex. Hecate was powerless to his spell. She took the full blow of his lightning bolt. She spasmed with pain as the electricity pulsed through her body, setting her nerves aflame. After the jolts died down, she took careful stock of the situation. She was in between two extremes: A healer intent of peace as he shouted for them to stop, and power hungry maniac willing to do anything for more power. Both of them were her enemies. Both of them would have killed her. Amidst her pain, she carefully pulled herself up, collapsing on the ground several times as she got used to the shocking pain in her body. Blood was dripping from her mouth. She took an edge of her cloak and wiped it off her chin, laughing slightly at the blood. She could hear the hero saying things, but could barely hear him. After reorienting herself, she could barely hear "Just stop! What is going on here? Who are you people!?!" Hecate laughed, her head hanging low, draped by her hair. She looked up, her mania clear through her eyes. "Who am I? I am Hecate. I've been sent her to kill you. The stars have foretold what will happen." She raised her hand, palm face up, pointing it towards the healer. She turned her head towards the mage. "I am Hecate, and I've seen what you are, elf. You are a monster, you will take all I worked for. You will kill me, take all I've gained, and desecrate who I am. I've been sent here to kill you as well. The stars have foretold both your deaths." With that, she pointed her second hand in a similar position to the mage. With that closing remark, she launched two black bolts at both her enemies. The spells launching with cackling dark energy, speeding towards their targets, aimed to kill. |
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| Saeborn | Tue Aug 3, 2010 1:39 am Post #12 |
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Saeborn, upon using his staff to get their attention was shocked by the plea for the fighting to cease. "Just stop! What is going on here? Who are you people!?!" The holy man said in a tone so holy and pure in which the sorcerer thought his impure ears were about to bleed. The scraggly witch looked stunned at first but with a smirk on her face repeated to them both, "I am Hecate, and I've seen what you are, elf. You are a monster; you will take all I worked for. You will kill me, take all I've gained, and desecrate who I am. I've been sent here to kill you as well. The stars have foretold both your deaths." The mage peered directly at Hecate, laughing deeply to himself as if amused by her statement. "You, Hecate as you call your self, shall indeed die, but it will be for your foolishness. From there you will rot in hell for the rest of eternity with the devil himself". In response the witch launched a bolt of dark pulsating energy towards the both of them, intent to cause a fatal wound. The sorcerer reached in to his body focusing all his energy in the spell that would save him from certain death. His feint white skin began to grow a hue of brown getting tougher by the second, becoming like bark itself. The magic bolt hit Saeborn right as she aimed, at his heart. The mage felt Minor pain as the bark shattered off of his torso, exposing his skin once again leaving him vulnerable. Rapidly his skin returned to flesh once again, restoring his agile movements and swift reaction capabilities. Saeborn began to feel a rage inside, one he hadn't felt for a long while. Not only did the witch cause him physical harm but tried to sabotage his ego. Reaching into his pocket, Saeborn pulled out two artifacts, a card in his right hand and a fan in his left. "Foolish woman, your have been greatly mistaken and misled for not only am I a powerful Sorcerer, but I am a collector of rare and powerful artifacts". Stretching the fan out to its full size, the mage pointed the fan towards the direction of the two beings. With massive strokes of his wrist, the fan began creating massive waves of air in an attempt to push them both to the wall. "You see this card dear? Not only is the delicate card beautifully hand painted by the god of war himself with a wicked weapon, but it can also turn into one". With a smirk on his face, the sorcerer put Raimaru in his bag and lifted the sword in the air over the sun itself. Light encased the card as it grew into a weapon of terror. The weapons intricate details and curves made the sword even more deadly. The mage pulled the magical sword into the fighting position, ready to strike at anything the two could throw his way. The sorcerers eyes focused on the witch, the one who tried so hard to hurt his pride. This would either end in a truce between them all or certain death for all three. |
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| Valens | Tue Aug 3, 2010 5:34 pm Post #13 |
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Valens' chest heaved up and down in exhaustion as he panted heavily, overwhelmed by the situation. He was unsure of what to make of the new comer, but from the look on Hecate's face, he was surely up to no good. Did this woman know the elf mage? Her face almost beamed of recognition. She spoke, saying ""Who am I? I am Hecate. I've been sent her to kill you. The stars have foretold what will happen." She raised her hand, palm face up, pointing it towards the healer. She turned her head towards the mage. "I am Hecate, and I've seen what you are, elf. You are a monster; you will take all I worked for. You will kill me, take all I've gained, and desecrate who I am. I've been sent here to kill you as well. The stars have foretold both your deaths." She did likewise, pointing her palm towards the mage. From her outstretched palms blasted two black bolts of crackling evil energy, aimed for the cleric's heart. From her other palm came a similar bolt of energy. But Valens did not have time to watch the mage defend against the bolt. He needed to protect himself from his own challenge, for the bolt was speeding towards him at an almost impossibly fast pace. Valens did the first human instinct that popped in his mind, dive. He lunged to the side of the narrow alley, almost colliding face first into the dirty stone wall of the building. Suddenly, a searing pain gripped his body. The black bolt had struck his right calf. Valens inspected the wound, wincing in pain. His flesh was seared and sizzled as the dark energy ate away at his life. Around the wound, black scared flesh oozed dark blood, seeping onto the grimy stone path. Valens extended his palm, moaning louder as the pain intensified. It was unlike any pain he had ever felt. It wasn't physical; it seemed to eat way at his life and soul. His palm began to glow a faint blue, radiating with holy energy. He cast the Heal spell. The effects were minor, and rather insignificant, but it took the edge off the pain. The black scarred flesh slowly restored, leaving a pink wound. Blood still leaked freely from the blow, but the life sucking energies seemed to have faded. Valens stumbled to his feet, using the building wall to help support himself. The mage across the alley began to speak. "Foolish woman, your have been greatly mistaken and misled for not only am I a powerful Sorcerer, but I am a collector of rare and powerful artifacts." In his hand he held a wicked looking fan. He pulsed the fans forward, creating a powerful wall of wind. Valens gripped the firm brick wall, holding on against the gale of wind. His grip slowly began to loosen as he was continuously barraged by the wall of wind. He began to fly backwards, in direct collision with the alley wall behind him. At the last moment, he managed to grab another loose brick, and hold on for the duration of the wind storm created by the sorcerer. The mage continued to speak, even after the deadly torrent of wind. "You see this card dear? Not only is the delicate card beautifully hand painted by the god of war himself with a wicked weapon, but it can also turn into one." The mage pointed the card to the sky. A golden light encased the card, which began to morph into a powerful looking blade. All Valens could do was grasp his mace. He charged for the mage, swinging the spiked weapon at the left side of the elf. |
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| Hecate | Tue Aug 3, 2010 6:48 pm Post #14 |
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Hecate took careful stock of her progress. Surprisingly, the healer attempted to dodge her spell rather than shield himself. He dove, futility because her bolt seared away at his leg. She watched as he whimpered in pain, healing himself, lessening the impact of her blow. The mage, however, defended himself with a unique spell, covering his body with a layer of magical bark. Her spell harmlessly chipped away at the wood, revealing an unharmed mage underneath. She grimaced, worried at what the mage would do. She then suddenly realized what a dangerous situation she was in. She was in between two powerful opponents. At the entrance of the alley, the mage was launching powerful ranged attacks. At the other end, the healer was behind her. She knew while his offensive magic was essentially nonexistent, he still had a strong arm and wicked mace. He charged recklessly because of his healing capabilities, making him a truly unpredictable foe. Before she could formulate any comprehensive plan, the mage began to reach in his bag. "Foolish woman, your have been greatly mistaken and misled for not only am I a powerful Sorcerer, but I am a collector of rare and powerful artifacts." With that statement, the wizard pulled out a fan and flicked it almost effortlessly towards Hecate and the young healer. However, rather than a breeze or gust of air, a full fledged blast plunged towards the two. She tumbled back quickly, losing all control. She continued to tumble and fall until she collapsed in a jumbled heap at the far edge of the alley. "You see this card dear? Not only is the delicate card beautifully hand painted by the god of war himself with a wicked weapon, but it can also turn into one." With that statement, the mage threw the card in the air. Still disoriented, Hecate only noticed it disappear, and a large, wicked blade had took its place. It looked awkward and clumsy in the mage's scrawny arms, as he attempted to assume a fighting position. The hero had apparently managed to cling to the side of the alley, and managed to stall the mage's air attack. Still recovering from Hecate's assault, he readied his mace and charged the mage, aiming to the mages left. Unbelievably, Hecate was in a more advantageous position after the sorcerer’s attack than before. Now, the two were going to be engaged in hand to hand combat while she was at the back of the alley. Although she was cornered at the back, it was certainly more beneficial to be at the back rather than be cornered in the middle. If the mage had launched a spell simultaneously as the healer attacked, she could have easily been killed. Back here, she could keep a range while the two battled. She took careful stock of the situation. The mage and hero would collide directly at the edge of the alley, just where the street meet the dark corridor. The building on the right that composed the alley was apparently being constructed, with a large sack of bricks placed at the edge of the roof. The other building that composed the alley was virtually free of debris, rubble, or improvised weapons, excluding three barrels lined at the side. She quickly called up her energy, focusing it on the large, heavy sack of bricks. With the aid of her magic, the bricks shifted off the building. She guided her telekinesis to cause the bricks to levitate directly where the struggle ensued. As soon as the mage and hero collided, she would drop the bricks over the fighting pair. She then would launch the three barrels at the duel in an attempt to disorient the fight and incapacitate them as much as possible. |
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| Saeborn | Fri Aug 6, 2010 4:49 am Post #15 |
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With powerful flecks of his wrist, the mage knocked the witch back with his fan, disorientating her momentarily. Valens clung to the bricks on the deteriorated wall barely able to avoid the vicious wind attack. The priest lifted himself from the ground and began to charge the sorcerer, mace in hand and aimed for the left side of the mages tall slender body. In a attempt to dodge to jagged mace, the sorcerer turned to the side. The sharp steel tore through the skin on Saeborn's side, leaving the red meat of his torso and his blood covered bones from his rib cage were left exposed. The mage began to cringe, breathing heavily from the would he had just received. Saeborn fell to the dirt covered stone path, getting dirt and rock particles embedded into his fresh, bleeding wound. Weakly, the sorcerer pushed himself away from the priest, anger pumping through his veins. The wizard began to feel enraged, his heart began skipping faster and faster. Saeborns sea blue eyes began to turn into the color of magic, purple sloches eventually took over his eyes, putting him into a state in which he was completely charged. Turning his attention to the priest, Saeborn took his fingers and shoved them into the ground. The mage began speaking to the roots and vines in the earth, "Rise, entangle this man in his place, grab his wrists and feet and bind him in place". Green vines began growing out of the cracks in the stone, leeching forward in a violent attempt to grab the priest. Slowly getting to his feet, the wizard shifted his attention towards the witch who had regained her consciousness. movement appeared in the corner of Saeborns eye, grabbing his attention. Turning around, the mage witnessed bricks floating in the air hovering about the mage and the priests heads. Shifting his attention back towards the witch, he noticed she was focused, controlling the large bricks about to smash into their heads. The ally in which the witch was cornered in, had a small building under construction, leaving a hole in the wall giving access to the exposed home. In a way to distract the witch from killing the both of them with bricks, the wizard focused his magic into the room. Water began to flood the small room, rapidly filling it with sea water. The spell, meant to be used in large rooms, caused the small rooms loose bricks to break. Water flushed out of the room, flooding the ally with several inches of water. "Etak, where are you"? The sorcerer began to repeat over and over in his head. The small fly dragon came billowing over the roof of the flooded building at high speed, clumsily colliding into the mages side. Wincing in pain the sorcerer lifted his tunic revealing the tattered and stained with blood, red like hell itself. The small dragon began to glow in a blue light. Slowly the open and exposed wound began to close up, becoming less painful every moment. The tired and worn out dragon began to feint and began bouncing up and down in an attempt to stay in the air. Saeborn grasped the small dragon, placing him in his bag, "Rest well little one, you have served your purpose well". Backing himself into an open area, the mage prepared himself for a barrage of attacks from both the healer and the witch. |
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12:57 AM Feb 10
