(Thread Necromancer! I CHOOSE YOU!!! No seriously, this thing is getting revived for mine and fura boredom's sake.)

 

 

Vixion's eyes trailed around for the vanished woman. Why did he even care where she went anyway? Was it curiosity, boredom, or did he actually care for her? That didn't matter to him, all he knew was that he wanted to know where she was and how her condition was. Without a hesitating thought in his mind, he jumped out into the street and took off in a direction that he thought to be fitting, considering it was the least busy part of town. "Ugh. Women, can they do anything without getting themselves into a fight?" He grumbled. His quick feet did not falter as he came upon a woman who seemed to have the physique of his former opponent. "You there! Wait," he called out in an abraded manner.

 

 

(Alright Fura, revive this with me!!!)

It was funny really, how she had alluded his eye. Nighleena watched from the safety of the treeline as Vixion approached the cloaked figure, whom she could tell was armed beneath the garb. Using her kusari-gama as a rope, she climbed down the tree, making her way to the edges of the town for a closer look. Being careful not to catch his attention, Nighleena ran between buildings with light footsteps, concentrating on stealth more than speed. She heard a female voice answer Vixion's callout.

 

 

 

Turning to face the stranger, Kyla stared at him from under her hood, "Who are you, and why have you halted me?" She remained cautious, hands prepared to throw her cloak off so that her greatsword could be drawn if need should arise.

(Ok, I would post but I'm lost. Iey, where are you and Vixion's characters and what's going on?)

Currently, Vix is chasing down a healed Nighleena, and Kyla is traveling into town, someone had burned down the tavern...and one of your characters captured the evil dog thing Tuck. Other characters are still in the cave which the dragons were in, but they escaped, so thats a quick sum up of everything lol.

(Iey, are you on top of the buildings?)

 

A sharp caw splits the air, and a red-eyed raven streaks down towards Nighleena. Its sharp beak narrowly misses her head, and it disappears among the shadows. Another shrieking call bursts forth, and suddenly a cloud of the black birds rises into view. As the glistening black whirlwind of claws, beaks, and obsidian plumage overtakes Nighleena, a ragged, humanoid silhouette with eyes of burning coal can be seen among the distant shadows of a bell tower.

Earth sighs, his run through of the rather huge castle showing it to be beyond repair. He suspects that like so many other things, his work has fallen apart for good. Again. He walks back to the forest, decommisioning the Ice Palatzo, the Wind Keep, the Fire Castle, The Light Tower, and the Dark Stronghold. He Poofs, returning to his main home, the Tree Soul, and reclaims his staff, his clothes, and his other belongings. he quickly sets out for a small, shrouded location, at the heart of the Dragon lands, hopefully that has still survived...

Kemios mutters something about "not enough booze in the world for all these crazy nuts" and begins the walk back to town for yet another keg of beer. Joel, anxious for more of the stuff, accompanies him.

Nighleena tried to concentrate as the mass of birds attempted to eviscerate her. Every reach for her kusari-gama's latch was painfully stopped short by a quick beak. Her clothing and mask kept the birds from doing too much harm to her, but occasionally a sharp jab would strike in the vulnerable areas and draw out a small stream of blood.

 

Wincing and batting at the birds, Nighleena quickly drew out one of her remaining kunai. She placed it in between her fingers and clenched her fist. Her strikes were vicious and precise, causing the wicked things to fall one by one.

The Man sat alone at the back of the dimly lit tavern. Smoke filled the air as he watched the sparse amount of patrons move about the place. The smoke like a fog thick in the air served as both a veil and a curse making it harder to do what was his goal. He sipped at his scotch as he pondered the individual patrons. Some would be threats, some would be annoyances, some would serve other interests.

 

Vices he thought as he sat down his scotch. Everyone here has one, no one is as strong as the facade they parade around like just like newly christened beauty queen in a parade - they act proud and strong but on the inside they are weak and insecure

 

What drives a man to pursue this path in life? an event of horrible violence, a thirst for bloody Retribution? His story was irrelevant, he viewed the past as a window to his soul, something that he often needed detachment from to pursue his endeavors

 

He sat down his half empty glass again as he eyes the barmaid with lustful eyes as he grinned under his fedora. smirking he mummers to himself.

 

I guess even I have a weakness

 

He surveys the tavern scene skillfully...waiting for something or something to make a move

 

 

Character Profile:

Real name Name: Jacob Spector

Gender: Male

Age: Early 20s

Height: 6 ft. 4 in

Weight: 250 lbs

Main Combat Style: hand to hand

Profession:Classified

Specialties: Small Arms expert, expert marksman, hand to hand combat, has a dark power that few know

Equipment : independently wealthy, supplies his own state of the line gear. Wears an obsidian amulet around his neck

 

Fights with animal-like instinct and commands military esque battlefield intelligence. Has mastered the art of Melee Combat and is well Adapt in most small arms and hand to hand weapons. He has an ace in the hole he rarely uses due to the power and drawbacks of it. He's at a glance a highly religious and gentlel man, however his friends and family say he acts like he's distant and he's much more serious and cynical.. He is socially withdrawn, distrusting of strangers and paranoid of peoples intentions. He knows he has a secret agenda and others do as well. He places high values on honor and morality. He has an addiction to attractive women and likes lifes finer things

(Welcome, Das! Sorry if it's not too much of a coherent story, such things sometimes wander here. And Iey, looks like someone rebuilt that tavern. :))

 

Nighleena's blade slides through the ravens like mist, every blow parting one from its mortal coil. The cloud begins to thin...

 

And you hear the clear tolling of bells through the turmoil. The whirling black of the fell birds, the ebony patches of visible night, and the shadows cast by the looming tower congeal into a single mass. A black hallways engulfs the warrior, dimly lit though disparate from light, and at the end stands the coal-eyed figure.

 

It approaches, with footsteps sounding of the clack of talons. The red glow of its eyes grows stronger, and you see that they are occluded by a black, cracked mask spreading tendrils across the figure's face, seeming to seep into the skin. Feathers seem to sprout where the creeping fingers of obsidian end, as if in horrid fascisimile of a masquerader's colorful visage. The figure, now visible as vaguely feminine, stops a few feet away. Its burning eyes seem to trap you, the bloody darkness it projects encasing you as surely as the tide of a volcano does the town below.

(Have you guys ever considered the prospect that this may be an Irish town? [/stereotype] Seriously, there could be more than one tavern...)

(Why must I constantly be in combat??? lol)

 

A slightly battered Nighleena glared at the new hostility, quickly sizing the person up. Hands flying with deadly grace, her kusari-gama was already whirling around the kunoichi's body, a beautiful warning to the demonic figure.

(I haven't seen any leprechauns yet, and for a fantasy game set in Ireland that would be too far from the cliche to not have them... perhaps Joel would qualify?)

(I haven't seen any leprechauns yet, and for a fantasy game set in Ireland that would be too far from the cliche to not have them... perhaps Joel would qualify?)

(Joel is black, draconic, and serpentine. He dun qualify. But if you want leprechauns, all you have to do is poast...

 

Also, I can't start writing a post right now because I'm not sure when I have to leave my current location..)

The figure holds out its left hand, palm up. An enchanting, singsong voice echoes through the corridor.

 

"Little soldier, you have something of mine... What for you was an unwanted gift, is what I have sought forever... The Rose, Nighleena, and you may return..."

 

A blink, and the hallway has disappeared. Everything has disappeared, save for the demonic figure. You stay on your feet, standing on the empty void, staying at the ready despite an omnipresent pull at your very soul. The voice of the figure is now sharply clear, ringing in your ears and in your mind.

 

"It is a simple decision, what have you to lose? If you accept, a single cursed flower. If you defy me, everything."

Earth reaches the Draconic settlement, looking about in releif. it's JUST as he remembers it, though it has grown a bit scince he last saw it. he heads twords his old home near what was once the edge of the town, and knocks on the door. (Gtg work on stuff. may add to this or post another one.)

The whirl of the deadly weapon faded, Nighleena's eyes narrowing. She knew the rose held a power she was unfamiliar with, and ridding herself of it had been an option she had considered. Curiosity and small craving for power forced her to keep it, despite her mistrust towards it.

 

Looking again at the twisted figure, she decided it wasn't something to be trusted either. A small part of her regretted chasing away those 2 mythical beings earlier. They probably could have shown her how to use the cursed rose.

 

Taking a careful step back, Nighleena began to twirl the sickle end of the kusari-gama threateningly. She knew her opponent was not bluffing about ending her, but she could not bring herself to hand over the rose to such a fiend.

At the sound of her voice, Vixion grimaced. He had stopped the wrong woman. "Uh, I... I'm sorry Miss," he faltered due to embarrassment. In the distance he heard, or rather thought he heard, the sound of metal hitting something. "Shh," he warned the woman to keep quiet, gripping his katanas tightly. "Do you hear that?"

 

(really short post...just woke up and i am dead tired. plus i have school >.< eww and my kitten just like destroyed my christmas tree! -.-)

As Kemios arrives in town, he sees smoke...

 

Ignoring it, he continues on his way to his "favorite" tavern, eager for a drink. He arrives, and the tavern is burnt to the ground.

 

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO [insert more o's here]!"

 

And after that disparaging cry which would have awoken birds in the distance had he and Joel not killed them all earlier, he walks calmly to the tavern across the street and orders himself a beer. Despite the odd looks toward his dragon, the barkeep gives him a tankard, which he promptly downs. He then asks for another, and soon has run the poor "Tavern Acrros the Street" Tavern out of anything that might even slightly remember alcohol. "Poor Timoshy...." Kemios mused. "The man alwaysh had lotsh of beersh, unlike THIS SHODDY PLACE WHICH HARDLY CARRIESH ANYTHING!" And he stormed out the door, livid with rage for no apparent purpose.

 

The barkeep didn't even bother asking for payment, opting for bankruptcy instead.

Tuck, who was feeling in quite an odd situation, began to shake violently in the cage. He thrashed from side to side as he growled and spat. 'For Pete's Sake! Get me out of this damned cage,' he wanted to scream it. Surely speaking would give him away so he continued with his self abuse.

 

In one final attempt he rammed his skull against the opening of the cell. Success. Tuck's tail began to wag proudly as he ran off. Instead of running away from everyone, he ran in the direction of Vixion.

Despite the awkwardness of the clumsy ninja standing before her, Kyla stopped to listen. Maybe this ninja wasn't as inexperienced as he seemed, because the noise was barely audible. If it weren't for her magically enhanced senses she would have never heard the wind being sliced by the whirling of a deadly blade.

 

Looking back over at the scruffy man, Kyla was impressed that he had heard it at all. There wasn't a scent of magical aura about him, yet he caught the noise so easily. In fact, better than she herself would have.

 

Kyla closed her eyes and sighed. She had hoped to avoid any confrontations, but it seemed such a luxury was not possible. Ripping her cloak off, the armor beneath was revealed. Ancient symbols of dark red adorned a light, metallic, plate material. Attached at the waist of her plateskirt, a series of pouches, also red in color, hung loose about the metal. A greatsword was sheathed on her back, its handle silver, a jewel of red in the hilt center.

Earth, as he is almost at his small little hut, is accosted by several draconic humans. They ask, in a strange accent, "Why do you come here, Human born?" Earth just grins, and says back in full draconic, "Now, is that any way to treat and greet your old pal Earth?" The draconics look stunned for a moment, before they all laugh heartily, and join in on a great reunion. Earth quickly puts his stuff away, and then goes to the main Plaza for the party.

(showoff XD jk)

 

Vixion stood in awe at her armor. The uniqueness of its design was foreign to him. He wanted to stop and ask questions about the woman's place of origin when he heard the familiar sound of four padded footsteps running, stumbling really, into him. "Tuck! Wher have you been?" He glared at the strange mutt and returned to the even stranger female.

 

"How far away do you think it is? The noises, I mean," Vixion found himself clumsily trying to relocate the place where his acquaintance might have been engaged in battle.

 

Tuck looked at the woman. 'Ah, interesting find Vixion, boy. An elder of the dragon keepers. I thought they were all extinct,' he could not contain himself from rasping out a husky laugh. "Kyla, might I ask what you are doing out of that useless sanctuary of yours?" His voice grew deep and menacing when he saw the ancient embroidery on her armor.

 

Vixion's eyes grew wide as Tuck spoke his threatening words. "Tuck...you know her?" His head was beginning to whirl with confusion.

Tuck's demonic scent filled Kyla's nostrils seconds after his arrival, so she was not surprised by the hostility in the dog's voice.

 

"Still trapped in your eternal prison I see," her words soft, but scorching to the mutts ears. She remained expressionless as the mutt growled at her, clearly showing that his threatening tone was no more than a bluff.

 

Turning back to Vixion, "That canine is nothing more than an ancient demon, permanently trapped in his transformation into a dog. He is harmless to most, so you need not worry. Leash him, and lets be off."

Tuck's jowls tightened upwards, revealing his teeth. "You let a certain girl stay at your residence, no?" He said no more, but what he did, a strong malignance resided within it.

 

Vixion was even more dumbfounded than before. "Wait! Tuck is a demon?! I let a demon stay with her, in my house...under my nose? Perhaps I should have let her kill me," he muttered with a melancholy air. He pulled out a rope and threw it around Tuck's neck and looked up at Kyla.

"I am Vixion, pleased to meet you...I guess. I apologize if I interrupted you with my haphazard movements. I was looking for my," he searched to find the right words, "...an assassin."