One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

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TheDeathstalker
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby TheDeathstalker » Fri Feb 06, 2009 3:55 am

The Death Stalker smiled, the Deathand's words were not unexpected, but the passion and weight behind them was. He had never taken Kaome for the compassionate leader, but the shattered podium suggested otherwise. But such things can be left for pondering on a gentler day.

For now he turned his attention back to his crossbows, twin marvels of technology and magic, each expertly constructed by Orran himself and enchanted by the White Rose. Unlike your average crossbow, his had no string, no arms, their jobs taken over by a wondrous system of gears and springs, made of the finest metals, imparting the same force every time the trigger was pulled. Yet Orran had never been happy with just that much, the smallest of winds could push a fatal shot into a wide miss, and while he could compensate for this over short distances, anything more and even tiny amounts of turbulence became too much for an accurate shot. So in came Leria with a rather unique charm. Inscribed into the stock, this charm solved Orran's wind problem permanently, causing any bolt fired from the crossbow to be wrapped in a bubble of sorts, creating a near vacuum that would adhere to the bolt until it had reached it's target, and oftentimes after for messy results. It also had one other very convenient effect, creating a region of lensed air above the crossbows, allowing Orran to see hundreds of times further than the normal soldier, almost enough to contend with the Deathand himself, almost.

Finishing up his checking and cleaning, Orran spotted some of the Kan Codifier's right hand men atop the wall, and hurried over. "Greetings," he spoke, making sure to speak so only they could hear, "how fares the summoning? I havn't seen anyone run begging for mercy yet, so I can only assume Elifor is not yet loosed from his prison, but you never know with these things..."
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
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Just have one more try—it’s dead easy to die,
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Black_Heart » Sun Feb 08, 2009 4:57 am

"YOU WILL NEVER FORGET... WHAT YOU HAVE SEEN HERE... LITTLE HUMAN."

The voice echoed out from the lump in the garden.

"YOU CAN RUN... TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH AND BEYOND... BUT YOU WILL NEVER FORGET."


Hart sat bolt upright as his hands moved instinctively. The left rose to his face, feeling his eyes to ensure his blindfold was intact, and the right flew to the hilt of the blade beside him. When he was satisfied that his eyes were covered and he was not under attack, he relaxed, slumping back onto his cot with a sigh. After several seconds, he heaved himself up again, carrying his sword loosely at his side. He dressed himself quickly, pulling on a crimson tunic and pants, before fastening on his leather chestpiece and pauldrons. It was not much armor, nor was it magical, but it would protect him from an arrow or two, perhaps. After he was finally in his uniform, he buckled his sword to his belt.

As he left his room, he glanced back at the cot. To him, it appeared as a shifting, purplish shape - he was, after all, wearing a blindfold. It was rather miraculous he could see at all... but the Deathand had gifted him with a number of things, and one of them was this marvel, crafted by his mages. The blindfold itself was crimson, as the rest of his uniform was, with black sigils weaving across it, pulsing slightly. Through it, he gained the gift of sight, even without his eyes, not that there was much to see in his room.

"Never forget..." Hart mumbled to himself. Then he turned and strode out of the room. He passed several soldiers in the halls, all of them moving out of his way, perturbed by his appearance. Not only was he clad in the color of blood and blindfolded, but he was deathly pale. His hair, surprisingly, was the most normal aspect of him, hanging to his shoulders and the color of a raven's feather.

"Go... I will not stop you." Echoed a voice along the hallway. Though it was faint, Hart recognized it immediately as the voice of the Deathand himself. It sounded as though he was giving a speech. "Just... kill something... out." Hart upped his pace somewhat, hoping to catch him before he departed for some other task. Hart felt a momentary pang of regret that he had missed the speech, but it was quickly overshadowed by other feelings - a mixture of anxiety and excitement for the coming battle at the forefront.

The dark cloud at his side pulsed in agreement to his excitement. Hart spared a glance down at the sword. To most it was nothing more than a rapier, with a silver-colored hilt and guard, but most people did not see as Hart did. To Hart, even sheathed it radiated a cloud of malevolence that, at the moment, twitched with eagerness. Sünde, he had named it. As the name flitted through his mind, the cloud swirled with ever more energy, as if answering him. Hart ignored it, turning his attention back to where he was going.

He saw the Deathand exit the room through a door and altered his course to follow him. He could a number of eyes from the crowd on his back... and ignored them.

"I apologize for my lateness, Master," Hart said in a steady voice, bowing. "I found myself in a slumber I could not wake from... though it appears I have not missed the beginning of the slaughter. What are your instructions?"

((I hope I didn't make any grave errors here... and as I suspect a number of you would be able to tell such a thing simply by looking at it, Sünde is demonic in nature.))
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Vinnam » Sun Feb 08, 2009 6:01 pm

Vinnam glared at the assembled leaders of the Order, a look of hatred mixed with a grudging admiration radiating from his eyes. He should hate these men and women, despite the vows he had taken as a sworn Brother of the Blade. And yet, he could not bring his hate to bear, and was left with nothing but a deep-rooted admiration for their courage at facing the impossible odds bearing down on them.

The relatively young Brother had defied those who had said he would not survive his early training, then his first combat, then his first command. He had proven all those naysayers wrong, however, and had even outlived a number of them. Vinnam’s battered armor bore the signs of intense combat, every notch and scrape in the lamellar breastplate attesting to a thwarted blow, every dent in his helm suggesting a dearth of stymied attacks.

He scoffed at the traditional images the other Brothers presented, their shining plate and lustrous shields his object of ridicule. He preferred his battle-tested armor, along with his own blade, a great battered greatsword. Its core filled with a heavy fluid unknown to him, it gave unimaginable strength to his swings, turning the already deadly weapon into a truly wondrous instrument of death. This was not the only reason he kept the old sword, however, as there were others similar to it and indeed superior in some ways. The main reason he kept it was as a memento, the last link he had left of a father who had given his life for the Order, leaving his son a fatherless lad in the care of the empire he himself had served till his death.

Drawing his greatsword, Vinnam raised it in the air and roared his approval of the Deathand, along with the others around him. The knew their lot, that they would be the first rampart upon which the Sable’s forces would crash and break, as a rogue wave upon the sands of a tired coastline. The high command was brewing some plot to turn back the hordes, but for now, Vinnam and his brothers in The Order of the Blade were the main defenders of the last bastion of the Order left in the land.

However, following the Deathand’s last comment, uncertainty was spreading like a taint, infecting the minds of those who moments before had rallied to the commander’s call. Was death their last reward? Would this day be the last they would feel, hear, see their world?

Oblivious to these whirling thoughts was Vinnam, still grinning at the charge with which the Deathand had entrusted him, or so he felt. “Kill something on our way out? Why, I’ll do ye one better! I’ll not just kill one thing; I’ll take a swath of those bastards down to hell with me! I have heard that Sable makes for a wonderful winter coat, and I intend to find out!”

Emboldened by his show of bravado, several of Vinnam’s fellow Blades also lifted their own weapons skywards, a ragged cry spreading through the ranks and relighting the fervor that had seemed to leave them following the Deathand’s departure. Continuing to grin, Vinnam led his fellow troops back to their positions in anticipation of the first wave of the Sable’s horde.

((There, that should do it. I'm going to be a common grunt, and most likely die, cause that's how I roll!))
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Scarlet » Wed Feb 11, 2009 1:58 am

The woman, merely a girl in truth, was thrashing wildly even as Scarlet entered the room. It was a long, low room, with wide warm cots all along the eastern and western walls, and it was immaculately clean. The Sisters kept all the White Wings this way, even in peacetime. The dreary black walls most of the Scar was comprised of were nowhere to be seen here; the walls, floor and ceiling were all pale marble, pristine, inviting. All save two of the cots in this one were empty.
The girl's erratic movements were made without any real fervor, as though she had exhausted herself long ago but had forgotten how to be still. She was completely nude but for a thin blanket and missing most of her left arm, a bloody stump left in its place where Huron's men had hacked it off well above the elbow joint. One of her breasts looked as though it had been chewed on. She was covered in dirt, in her own sweat and blood, and in the filth of the men that had ravaged her. Her eyes were darting about the room wildly, randomly, though they did not seem to see. She gave no sign of recognizing any of her sisters, not even Scarlet herself, and whenever her eyes happened to flit across the stump, she gave it no sign of acknowledgment, as if she had never had an arm there. Ceaselessly her mouth opened and closed, though the only words that managed to come out were "Please" and "No".

The Red Sisters gathered in the room were gaping at the former captive in terror, eyes wide and bright with fear of the atrocities that had been committed on one of their own. Many were tense with anger, thoughts of righteous vengeance already filling their heads. Most of them, however, now turned to look at Scarlet with obvious relief, their prayers answered. Undoubtedly many of the Sisters had grown hopeful at her appearance, but all Scarlet could think was Why do these vermin persist in wasting my time?

"Tell me, Kira, is this baseborn girl the reason my meditations were disturbed? I have much and more to do, yet you seek me out to tend to this lackwit?"

The Red Sister flinched as if she'd been slapped, but one of the others gathered had no such decency. "Sister Scar-"
"You are to style the Lady with an appropriate title," interrupted one of Scarlet's personal guard "not as an equal to one such as you." This was something Scarlet had only recently deemed necessary, but the Sisters of the Order of the Rose were taking to it quickly enough. It pleased her immensely, though she could not say why. She hated titles.

"Yes, madam. Lady Scarlet, we would not have asked after your presence, only it could not be helped. You are the only one with enough strength in the healing arts to save Lysa from forever losing her mind and spirit to madness. She was the commander of the outriders that had been sent to-"

Scarlet's voice lashed out like a whip, interrupting the Sister yet again. "I know who she is, girl. Do not presume to lecture me. This peasant girl is not worth the time and effort it would take to restore her, nor is she like to thank me for it. My attentions are required elsewhere. Give her the peace of eternal slumber, if it please you, but do not pester me with rabble such as this again." Showing the horrified women her back, Scarlet swiftly made her way back to her rooms, her personal guard trailing behind.

When she arrived, things were much as she had left them. The copper bathtub sat on several layers of thick toweling that were laid out across the center of the room, the crimson floor tiles hidden underneath. The large marble hearth still blazed away merrily, flame crackling out to warm the room. Very comfortable. A slight irritation, though: she had to wait for the tub to be refilled, as the water had grown cold during her time in the White Wing. Scarlet refused to have magic involved in any part of its heating - it simply did not feel the same! - so the water had to be brought up from the kitchens, in heavy pails with tight lids to keep the water from cooling on the way up. Eventually, the tub was drained and then filled again, thick strands of steam rising out of it. The scented oils her servants had added to the water filled the room with their aroma, pleasant as always.
Scarlet had long since gotten out of the merely serviceable clothes she had been forced to wear to attend to the matter of the soon to be dead girl, opting instead for a robe of fine velvet, pale violet in color, with a small ruby threaded into the left breast. After allowing her handmaidens to help her out of the robe, she quickly sank into the tub. Hot water was one of the greatest gifts she had found in her long life, and this particular patch was heated exactly as she enjoyed it the most.

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Kaome Sky Deathand » Wed Feb 11, 2009 2:34 am

"I apologize for my lateness, Master," Kaome turned his head, seeing a man bow before him. "I found myself in a slumber I could not wake from... though it appears I have not missed the beginning of the slaughter. What are your instructions?"

Kaome looked the man, Hart..., in the face, staring into the place where one should have eyes instead of a cloth binding. Two auras conflicted briefly, The Kaelis-Ra flashing against the blade on Hart's side. They settled again almost as quickly as they had been spun up. He clapped him on the left shoulder and spoke.
" Make ready for war how best you see fit. Enjoy this night, the last one before the world comes crashing down. Do not go hard into your ale or wine, but reflect with it. Find a girl, or two, or the one you have claimed as yours...embrace them. Cherish your time together. Catch a last draught of sleep, real sleep before the dawn brings us blood."
He looked to the side, as if to say more, something inspiring, then decided against it.
"Go. Heed my advice about staying light on the drinking."

He turned, as if peering deeper into the Scar.
"I have things to do as well..."
The mantle wrapped around him and he was gone.

- - -

The air smelled of scented oils and the steam rising off hot water.
The underlying aroma of burning wood, cherry, the very slight ozone of heated metal. Of perfume that would bring sweet promises of tomorrow, if only there was one to look forward to. It smelled of women, as only a place like this could, even warrior women. It was something in the air, perhaps primal in place. On the tip of his tongue and yet...
He was glad for the concentration on the sense of smell. He had instinctively averted his gaze towards the fire in the great marble hearth to one side of the room, resting his left arm against the wall. He gazed into the fickle flame, trying to tease out something from the fire that wasn't really there....trying to forget the sleek curves and fine complexion that jittered in his head. He blinked slowly, letting them slip away.

"Red Countess..." He stated loud enough to be heard.
He always liked that title, it suited her, even though he knew she despised all that....just as she would more than likely despise him for intruding into her rooms, unannounced and uninvited. In the middle of a bath of all things. He cleared it from his mind, whatever she was going to say she was in her right to, just as he had right to question those on a council he himself made.
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Black_Heart » Wed Feb 11, 2009 4:36 am

"I have things to do as well..." the Deathand said, just before he vanished. Hart barely heard him, nor did the Deathand see his cold smirk.

"A girl...?" Hart shook his head slightly before turning and slowly walking down the halls. The younger recruits plastered themselves to the walls as he passed, and even some of the more hardened moved out of his way. After a short while, he found himself in his room once more, peering into a drawer at a small box. He lifted it up and opened it, gazing at the shape that he knew was a silver ring.

"'You will never forget,' he told me... and perhaps he was right," he said to himself. "But then, perhaps forgetting is not what I should do at all... The Lord thinks that I should find a girl to spend the night with," he told the ring. "What do you think?" The ring simply lay there, of course. It was nothing more than metal, and yet still Hart chuckled slightly. "Would you spend this night in remembrance with me?" Once again, the ring was silent. Hart smiled as he slid the band onto his right ring finger. "I knew you would say yes." He brought the ring to his lips for only a moment, then turned and strode out of the room once again.

* * *

The hall was empty. It was no surprise. This was a hall for entertainment, and there was hardly time for that with a siege on the horizon. Hart, however, had time to spare, and had chosen how he wished to spend it. He pulled an instrument from the rack – a lute, the most suitable for what he was to play. He carried it into the courtyard, which saw very little traffic. The main feature in this part of the Scar, after all, was the entertainment hall, which was empty. Hart settled down on a ledge and began to play.

His song was a slow, sweeping tune that seemed incomplete in and of itself, as if it was meant to be paired with something. It was, and after playing for a short while Hart began to sing quietly. The language was from a distant land – not Hart's home, but a neighbor – and was full of lilting sounds. Hart doubted that many among the Order would know the language, and he doubted even more than any of them were close enough to hear. Even those that could not understand could hear the melancholy tone of the words, however.

The song was a lament, sung from the view of a dying man as he thinks of his love, so far away. He describes every aspect of her in great detail, painting a picture of an unreal, perfect woman who is as gorgeous as the sun and gentle as the moon. The final chorus is repeated twice, trailing off the second time before it reaches the end, and the music abruptly stops.

Having finished his song, Hart sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall, lost in thought.
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby VZhitogoroshi » Wed Feb 11, 2009 3:12 pm

"What has been started may not be interrupted, but hear this. If this fails, I will not hesitate in banishing that beast once more. Nor you with it. Do you understand me, Sargun?"

Sargun smiled. "If this fails I'll be dead anyway. All of Huron's forces could not break the bond between the Earthbrother and the beast. For Elifor to become free once more would require the link between us to be broken."

A dull whine filled the room. "He has crossed into the World-Between-Worlds, now, and cannot return. Your parts are over. Leave, or stay, it is no concern to me." Quel graciously burst from the room. Ret walked out as well, but at a leisurely pace. Oimaya was still speaking for the Golem and couldn't have even heard Sargun's message.

Quel would prepare the Lance members, Sargun was sure. It was their nature to skirmish before the fight proper, as to take advantage of their great mobility over the rank and file. Once the beast had been summoned - and that time was fast approaching - the battle would begin.

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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby VZBushkiller20 » Wed Feb 11, 2009 9:07 pm

"Your parts are over. Leave, or stay, it is no concern to me."

The Kan Codifier did not lower his blade. "You are fortunate. There are other matters to which I must attend." No other words were necessary at the moment, and the Great Kan disappeared into the shadows of the room. His disembodied voice lingered on, repeating a single message. "Though I doubt your attendance very much, I will see you at the council." Along with the words hung the unspoken comment. No matter if you succeed or fail, you will cease to exist.

The Council. A host of old fools younger than himself. It was almost an insult to be on it, yet how could he refuse the summons of the Deathand? He felt the shadows twisting in his anger, shaping themselves to fit his mood. It was...cathartic in a way and very dangerous. Mostly dangerous. Calm the fire in your heart, lest the darkness consume it. It was one of the first rules of the shadow walker. Step into the darkness, and you may disappear. Light and time were nonexistent within the shadows.

The shadows continued to morph around Brother Bush in a more natural way. Chaos, to be certain, but a natural chaos. From within the darkness, light appeared...small, but growing gradually. The shadows receded and the Council room appeared before the Great Kan. In what had been to the world a few seconds, to Brother Bush what had seemed like half the journey of the sun, the Kan Codifier stepped out of the shadows into the room before him. Empty. Not even the Deathand sat within the chamber. It did not bother the Great Kan. His preparations had been completed long before. His orders had been given. He could wait.

In the empty chamber, he sang to himself a song of glory, of sadness, of heroes, and of the end of all time. But mostly, he sang to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Greetings, how fares the summoning? I havn't seen anyone run begging for mercy yet, so I can only assume Elifor is not yet loosed from his prison, but you never know with these things..."


Tarsil looked at Vali, who in turn was looking at the stranger. It was obvious that they belonged to the Order of the Robe. Yet to speak of such things in the open was...unthinkable! Only caution would serve here. Vali remained silent, so Tarsil began.

"We know not of what you speak," he lied "Now if you excuse us...we have orders from the Robed Master that must be completed." Vali nodded in agreement and the two brushed past. A feeling of unease ran up Tarsil's spine. How did he know about Elifor?
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Loki » Mon Feb 16, 2009 1:19 am

"Hey, did you hear?"
"What?"
"Rumors from the Robe say that Huron has a secret weapon against the Order especially for the Council."
"What? You must be mad. No way that Huron has ever acquired such a weapon. The -entire- Council?"
"It's true, they say it's something that made the entire Order collapse in the first place."
"No way.."
"What else can explain everything that has happened to us now that we are stuck in this desert?
"You might be--"


The guard stopped in mid-sentence to feel the presence of a Brother coming closer and closer. As he looked around carefully to see a man clad in steel approach closer to the gate where the Council awaited. He stuttered, "Wha-what is your n-name, Brother?"
The man raised his eyebrow and curiously looked at him in the eyes. He raised his hands and pounded his chest as a greeting and spoke, "Do you not remember the face that was once your leader, Kal?"

He revealed himself as Brother Loki, and the guard responded with the same greeting. It was the same salute used by the Crusaders when they addressed each other in battle and in peace. Kal was once a part of the Crusaders that took battle as their pride and fought for it dearly. He looked carefully at Loki to see that he was already fitted to battle and was carrying a familiar banner.
"Commandant Loki! You are still bear the banner of the Crusades," Kal questioned curiously since the Crusades have been over and the Crusaders have disbanded ever since.

The High Reclaimer chuckles to himself and whispers, "Aye, the banner still symbolizes our once powerful strength and I do plan to bring that back; The Crusaders shall return." Such news shocked Kal, the large majority of the Crusaders were killed in action in the last few battles and those who were still alive were returned to their original posts. But the look from Loki's eyes gave away why he wanted to recreate the Crusaders. It was his shattered pride that he was slowly picking up and piecing together that gave him the idea of banding together and recreate the Crusades.
Loki eyes Kal curiously once more, "Are you prepared to fight with me once again, Kal?"
"Yes," Kal nods as he salutes his old leader once more.

Loki passes the banner to Kal and shifts his arm more comfortably. "Keep this banner, let everyone know that we are not finished. You know what to do." He returns the salute and walks towards the Council but before entering, he turns around one more time, "Meet me at the bestiary, I plan to awaken my mount. Tomorrow will become a good day to put him to use" And he enters through the door and into the darkness where the Council is.

Taka.. Taka.. Taka..
Each step in the dark hall that led to the Council would echo like drums and as he would get closer and closer to the end where a dim light glowed in the darkness, he would hear a song that rang through his ears ever so faintly yet became louder with each step he took. Was he going mad? No.. It was a voice of a man that was familiar to Loki. And oh how familiar it was when he reached at the end. A smile spread across his face when he saw him, by himself in the dim light.
"It's been awhile since we have seen each other. How long has it been, Brother Bush?"
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby VZBushkiller20 » Mon Feb 16, 2009 1:50 am

The sounds of armored footsteps echoed through the Council room. Brother Bush continued to sing, but in a softer tone, using the steps for his beat. The High Reclaimer stood across from him in the room. A rank as prestigious as the Kan Codifier, leader of the Crusades. One of the few Council members that Brother Bush could stand, and in truth respected..

"It's been awhile since we have seen each other. How long has it been, Brother Bush?"

The Kan Codifier was silent, recalling past battles in the name of the Order. "Since the last Crusade, Brother. The last time the Serpent ruled the sky. It has been long indeed." He rose, his sword shining brightly in the dark room.

"Come, join me, Brother. You bear the banner of the Crusaders. I must know, is this in memory of the past...or of hope for the future?" Brother Bush asked, a slight gleam in his eyes. Perhaps hope still lived in the council. Perhaps.
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Loki » Mon Feb 16, 2009 2:37 am

"Since the last Crusade, Brother. The last time the Serpent ruled the sky. It has been long indeed."

"Ahh yes, the Crusades... Those battles... Mm..?" Loki spoke as his attention was driven away towards the sword that Brother Bush had by his side. He raised his eyebrow and looked at Bush questionably, "Could that possibly be the..--" He was entranced by the sword's light for a moment until Bush spoke once more.

"Come, join me, Brother. You bear the banner of the Crusaders. I must know, is this in memory of the past...or of hope for the future?"

Loki shifted side to side to regain his composure and walk towards the seat next to Brother Bush while glancing towards the sword. He sat and spoke in a clear voice, "You will not be disappointed, my Brother. The Crusades shall return.. And..I shall return as the Commandant of War when I drive these mongrels from this hellhole." Brother Loki coughs and his eyes wander into the darkness trying to follow the dim light that dances in his view.

"My brother.. Even I was not born into the Robe, and yet.. I can feel the presence of another from that blade of yours.. I remember your sword, it was not so...different from the one you have right now. What have you been doing since we have been in the Scar?"
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby TheDeathstalker » Mon Feb 16, 2009 4:31 am

"We know not of what you speak," he lied "Now if you excuse us...we have orders from the Robed Master that must be completed."

"Yeah, sure..." the Death Stalker muttered, heading in the direction they had come from. He hated being lied to, especially so clearly, but he wasn't going to get much out of those two, so he set himself off in search of the ritual himself.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, his mind filling with hundreds of threads that quickly formed into a mental map of the Scar. There were only a handful of places he hadn't been in the right direction that were both big enough to house such a ritual, and secure enough to hold him if and when it failed.

Orran, as brilliant a mind as he had, never thought to plan for what he would find. A strange force pressed upon the back of his mind as he approached the door, giving him only the slightest of pause. Ignoring the screams from the primal part of his mind, he cracked open the door, slipping in on the ritual.

It was only then that he finally realized just what his mind was trying to warn him of. It wasn't Elifor, no, he was more than ready for that, it was the golem, it's... words weaving into the Death Stalker's mind. A small trickle of blood came from his nose, followed by his ears only moments later. No human mind was meant to comprehend what was happening here, not without untold amounts of preparation, and yet the dreamer dreamed on, the primal vibrations filling his very being, trying to shake his very soul apart.

His weapons clattered to the floor as he slumped to his knees, his eyes staring into some vast abyss known only to him. "Bloody H---" he whimpered, cut off by his own bloody vomit. In a matter of moments he had gone from perfect health to the very brink of death, and was slipping fast. As the strength in his arms failed, he slumped into his own bloody spew, clinging to sanity and life as his brain tried to understand the deep magicks that flowed around it.

Thoughts formed suddenly, only to be dashed against the rocks of the golem's words. His "map" of the Scar popped up in his mind, only to dissolve into the threaded memories that formed it, each flying in it's own direction. One in particular flew at his face, cutting it deep as it flew by, but bringing with it a long forgotten memory.

    "Leria, give it back!"
    "Gotta catch me first," she said with a giggle, her flight literally given wings by her new found gift that would eventually bring her to the White Rose.
    "You know I can't catch you, I never could..." Orran cried, defeated once again by his older sister.
    "Well then, little Orran, I guess you'll just never get your teddy bear back, maybe then you'll stop being such a baby!"
    A rage filled him as he grabbed two stones from the dirt, his eyes darting around, gathering as much information as possible. A slight breeze at his back, three story buildings surrounding the atrium, a bright sun overhead, and his sister's cocky smile. Lines appeared in his mind, guiding his hands, hurling the first stone almost straight up, missing Leria by a wide margin. Two ticks of a clock unheard by anyone else, and he threw his next stone along it's path right at his sister, causing her to roll out of the way, just as the first stone fell back to earth, ripping the bear from her hands.
    "W-w-whoah, Orran, what was that?" she stumbled over the words, in shock.
    "I," he paused, looking at the bear, shredded by it's impact from the rock and subsequent crashing into the ground, "I don't know."

He did now, and he'd be damned if he'd let himself die to the side effects of some strange magicks. Clenching the thread in his hand with a new found strength, he picked himself up and spoke but a single word, shared only by Elifor, the golem, it's rider, and himself. In that word, the world shifted, the scales tipped, and the Death Stalker's strength was restored, allowing him to stand as an equal with the ancient things around him.
Last edited by TheDeathstalker on Sun Feb 22, 2009 6:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try—it’s dead easy to die,
It’s the keeping-on-living that’s hard.

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Scarlet
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Scarlet » Tue Feb 17, 2009 3:44 am

His arrival was not unexpected, but that did not make it any more pleasant. The fact that he had intruded on her bath made things worse. Did the man have no decency, no shame? Who did he think he was?

Kaome Sky Deathand. Hard, isolated, stoic, and a killer. Where had she read those words before? It mattered not, except that they must have been written for men such as he. Scarlet would have said he had been made for war if she didn't already believe the man was older than it. Tall and broad of shoulder with a severe, perpetually frowning face, he still looked much as he did when she had first met him ages ago. He could have been anywhere between his twentieth and fortieth year. His body was all hard muscle and sinew; there was no trace of soft or fat on him, all of it having boiled away through centuries of battle. His mouth was a sharp line etched into the hard leather shield he carried around for a face, his eyes the harsh, humorless grey of flint. He was an instrument of death and utterly without peer, alone even in this warrior's abode, seemingly empty of purpose or passion. And he was in her rooms, standing there like a giant at a ball, awkward and out of place, though he betrayed no sign of knowing it.

"Red Countess...", he had said.
Had he meant to mock her? Where did the man find the gall to not only encroach on her place, her haven, but to insult her, to give voice to such a contemptuous title, to disgrace her, to...
For an instant, Scarlet's eyes changed. She blinked, and for a split second her eyes were crimson, terrible in their fury, all sign of their usual cool, icy blue vanished. Her vision seemed to dim and, oddly, grow keener; all she saw seemed expanded and slowed. Everything was drenched in different hues of red - blood and scarlet, garnet and rose - and it seemed to her as though it all wanted killing or, if it could not be killed, burning.

As quickly as her rage had taken her it was gone after she blinked, the world back to normal in an instant. She was disappointed in herself. Scarlet had managed to keep a tight rein on her anger until now. She sighed in exasperation and turned her head from the fire to at last focus fully on Kaome.

"Greetings, Warlord,", she called, her voice sweet and mocking, a tinge of scorn showing through in her use of the title. "Still relegating yourself to the shadows, I see. Tell me, my lord, is it fear of the light that has kept you there all these years, or do you merely take joy in impressing the green boys you call soldiers? It comes to me that a man such as you would." She did not deign to acknowledge his intrusion, much less remove herself from the tub. The fault was with him, and besides languor had long ago crept into her bones; she had been enjoying her bath. He was just another irritation.

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VZBushkiller20
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby VZBushkiller20 » Tue Feb 17, 2009 1:36 pm

"My brother.. Even I was not born into the Robe, and yet.. I can feel the presence of another from that blade of yours.. I remember your sword, it was not so...different from the one you have right now. What have you been doing since we have been in the Scar?"

Brother Bush drifted off. "Mar'Zhal, the blade of shadows...served its purpose. As will Malachi-Esh'Or..." His eyes quickly became alert again and he looked at Brother Loki. "I see you recognize the sword then, High Reclaimer. There should well be another's presence in the blade I carry. Has it been so long since my grandfather served the Order? Has it been so long since he faced down Ja'Los the Damned?" Brother Bush reached through the shadows, a slight smile on his face.

"Has it been so long...since this banner flew over the heads of our armies?" The Great Kan threw his grandfather's banner into the arms of the High Reclaimer. "I have been busy, it is true. Since the Council so greatly desires the past, I have brought the past to them.
Last edited by VZBushkiller20 on Tue Feb 17, 2009 4:03 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Rising_Dusk
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Re: One-Shot - Tangent 2 - Siege of the Scar

Postby Rising_Dusk » Tue Feb 17, 2009 2:59 pm

For the longest time he fell.
It was not that his pocket dimension was in the sky or in the earth, rather it was the feeling that was experienced in leaving his sanctuary and returning to the mortal plane. He was giving up his agelessness, much of his infinite well of magickal power, and his inability to die. He was giving up what so many men would give anything to hold onto forever. He could have stayed in his world forever and watched the falling of the Scar. He would live to see the future, know all about the past, but he would be alone in the knowledge that he gave up his one chance to save the only thing he had ever truly cared for. That would be a fate worse than death.. Far worse than death in the name of that one thing, for certain.

And so he fell.
No one would remember his name. No one ever knew his name. He didn't know his name. There were likely titles and labels and so forth allocated for him at one point in time, possible places of prestige bestowed upon him... But he cared not for such mundane things. Worldly possessions meant little, because everything is but dust in the face of the one true master - time itself.

He continued to fall.
Where he would land he had no clue, but he had to shield himself from them lest they unleash their portion of the cup of wrath upon him. His catharsis of locked away emotions had long since passed; he would not react to these people at all since his Ascension. He had faced the worst of himself and prevailed once, and trust you in the knowledge that there is none more dangerous to you than yourself. He thought of who he would contact when he landed, who he could trust, who he might even know. No names came up. There were others he remembered ascending, but he doubted any would still be alive. Ascension was a rite of passage long lost to what the Order had become since his exile. Now they were more interested in possessing titles and false respect than destroying that which perverts the mind in yourself - now they embrace such evils. Blasphemers, the lot of them. He could scarcely believe that he actually wanted to save what the Order had become. It was only the hope that there were still honorable members left that reject the new ways that kept him going. It was those whom would be saved from wrath by his hand.

His fall persisted.
He would have to hide himself from mortal eyes and magicks upon his return. Any fluctuation detected might send the respective orders into a frantic panic of espionage and betrayal. They would set upon themselves like wolves over the last shred of meat. It is very difficult to make someone invisible; it requires too much light manipulation and far more focus than should be necessary. There is a much easier way to accomplish the exact same end. The human mind is easily deceived; it is very simple a task to simply cause the mind's eye to overlook an object. This requires almost no thought on the source's will to maintain as well, making for a much more amiable solution. He would hide himself in this way until he felt someone needed to see him.

He stopped falling...
A whirlwind of dust surrounded him, much like a typical dust devil within the Scar. He lifted his head and looked upon the fortress... It was always so much more beautiful to see in person...
"I'll come to Florida one day and make you look like a damn princess." ~Hep


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