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[Mathijs]

Calmly, Bazric entered the room as well. Justicar unsheathed and over his shoulder, he positioned himself next to Theria. ''I'd like t'make something clear,'' he said. ''Sum' people in 'ere claimed I was overzealous...'' his eyes flashed around the room, landing on Tom. ''But I'd just like te say I'm most certainly not. I'm a dwarf paladin, not a human paladin. Unlike them, we dwarves serve no higher purpose then te clean up sum' o' the world's... well, less then pleasant creatures. Evil creatures, ye see... there is no influential order of dwarven paladins, we do not care 'bout politics...'' Bazric shook his head. ''When I challenged this... creature, I showed no more authority then necessary. Watch yer words, Deathknelf. I'm a servant o' good, not a servant o' whatever shady goal my ''order'' has chosen fer me...''

''As fer you, summoner of demons, there's only one thing I'd like t'say to you...'' Bazric stepped towards Zhar and slammed his weapon into the wooden floor. ''If I ever catch ye doing something like this again, I won't be quite so merciful. T'only reason yer still alive right now's because I trust these elves' judgement. If I ever have to face you in combat again, ye won't survive the encounter. This I swear on the honour of all dwarves.''

Bazric pulled his weapon out of the floor and walked towards where the gnome was standing.

[some_weirdGuy]

"Oh, I'm quaking in my boots... really i am..." the sarcasm dripping from his words was almost visible in its abundance
"Tell me, if you paladins are so fierce in combat, why did i make it into the most secure keep known to your order and free..."
"...That Demon!"
the words slipped out, and he could be seen physically biting his tongue to hold them back
he let out an angry little noise and took a breath
"I summoned that lesser demon because i felt like it!" he then swept the blade Illyriel had pointed at his throat to the side with his bare hand, the endge cut into his skin, but like before the brown blood simple dripped a little before stopping, the cut remaining open yet bloodless.
"I did it..." he sat up straighter, cross legged "because your little friends tried to make a mockery of me, and i had no further use for you. You did not know anything of the man i seek and so you were useless, nothing, worthless to me..."
he giggled manically, his insanity cleared bared before the group in front of him.
he let out a grunt, and sagged a little, squeezing his eyes shut
"... i am sorry for their behavior, there are many others in here, i dont know how long i can speak for. I am Zhar, i rescued you because its right, i... i am not like the others, i came here because it was along the trail, and although the others may not be good, the quest i am on is for the good of all..." he stopped, taking shallow breaths and closing his eyes, rubbing his eyes "... i am sorry, i cant hold on any longer" his body tensed for a moment, he sat up straighter, and as he opened his eyes they had a menacing glow once more.
"Damn the bastard! i'd kill him if i could!" he said to himself, anger and hate in his voice
"...as i would with that Demon!"
"damn you, damn you all!" he screamed, getting up and knocking over a bar stool. He stiffened again suddenly, his eyes glazing over...
"y-yes Master" he said, his hands beginning to tremble
"no, no i am, im going. No please no" his body convulsed, and shook, he squeezed his eyes closed and pulled a face as if in great pain, before he slumped to the ground and onto his side. As he did this all the group came forward, not knowing what was going on they moved, cautiously, towards the now mumbling Zhar.

Lying side-on on the ground, tracing squiggles of no meaning into the dust on the floor, Zhar could be heard by the others saying
"no master, yes master, will find Winter Vayu for master" then he looked up and the faces looking at him, staring at Theria like a scared little child, his voice could be said to match this, as he said "it hurts mummy, it hurts" he looked back down at the ground, tears in his eyes.

The others all looked at each other, very much weirded out by this whole experience, while Zhar continued to blubber in to himself quietly on the floor...

((lol, this is defiantly an interesting character to RP as... so will the group be joining Zhars quest? or will Zhar be joining the groups quest?[whatever that my be?]))

[Fire Ze Missiles!]

Illyriel's eyebrows couldn't go much higher at this point. Largely because of this he relented in his internal sarcasm and sheathed his scorned blade.
"Well, I'm sold," he began (Illyriel was, by nature, an amiable type), "let's take him with us Theria." The elf couldn't remember quite how he had been drawn into this quest but was fairly sure he had been and felt the 'us' justified.
"At least if we have have him we can keep the bugger under control."

[Copaman]

Shooting a glance at the dwarf, Tom made his voice heard. "When ever did I say that? All I said to you was I didn't want a good sandwich ruined. And I proceeded to ask you to either discontinue your quarrel or take it outside."

"I agree with you, Illyriel, on this issue. Keeping him with us gives us several capable swords to inflict any kind of justice-" his emphasis on justice was no mistake - "we like, should he try anything else."

He paused. When was there any 'us' or 'we' in this situation? Alas, if the gods will it of me, then I fear I must. Perhaps... perhaps this is my redemption. I will accompany them.

"On that note, I ask that you allow me to accompany you both on this voyage. The ringing in my head suggests the gods have a fate for me."

He returned his sword to its sheath and fixed his hood, which had been resting in an uncomfortable position on his back. He then put his hands on his head, and leaned to one side. Though the bands of color that played across his skin helped disguise them, various scars were still visible. It was at this time that he dropped his final concealment spell, revealing a scar that ran from the top left of his forehead to the bottom right of his face and down the neck. His hands also showed scars from lacerations running from the palm back towards his elbow, stopping just after his wrist. They then circled around around his arms, making what looked like a mark marking where his sleeves ended.

"Besides, you'll want my sword in a fight, should there be any. Very few can dream of rivaling my skill, let alone actually rivaling it."

[Vortigern]

"Well," began Theria. "I was thinking of killing him now. It would at least get him out of circulation, stop him doing any more damage. But I suppose the humanitarian option has to be considered. We'll take him with us. We can turn him over to the Paladins when we get to the Maughold." She sighed, and flicked her long, dark hair back behind her shoulders. She noticed Illyriel's wandering eyes as she did so, and almost smiled. He had not lost the old swagger and panache that had held her so adoringly captivated all those years ago, but she was a stronger elf these days. She would make sure Illyriel knew that, should it prove necessary.

"I have a feeling, my dear Deathknelf, that the gods have a fate in mind for all of us. The chances of six such as we gathering in a tiny border town on the same night are astronomic. Perhaps we shall have a long time to get to know one another." Theria turned to leave the room; she was tired, and a good night's sleep would do wonders for the ground she could cover the next day. These others would just have to keep up. "Illyriel, would you mind watching our friend here?" Bazric, the dwarf, grunted and stepped forward at that.

"Ah'll see to it that he doesn'a ha'e a comfortable night, my lady."

"Good. You can both get some sleep at some point. I'll be along at sunrise, and we'll leave soon after. Prepare yourselves for walking."

[Rafv Nin IV]

((That's pushing reality a bit, even for a fantasy world.))

"That's sure considerate of you. I am, of course, at the grand height of two feet, quite good at keeping pace with your kind," Shava replied sarcastically, "Unless your invitation did not include me, in which case be on your merry ways. But I hope you'll find that cutting people's heads off doesn't always work, and you'll regret leaving a more subtle ally behind."

[Copaman]

"Agreed. I am always about by sunrise; you can count that I will be ready to move with-" he caught his tongue, preventing himself from saying something which could be construed in a slightly embarassing manner. Seamlessly, he resumed his sentance. "-the group. Paladin, should anything between the two of you start, don't fail to wake me. I sleep lightly."

He followed Theria up the stairs and couldn't help but find himself captivated by her legs. What, in the name of the gods, have I gotten myself into? And why has she possessed my head? I've known her for but a few hours and already she teases and tempts me.

Theria shot a quick glance back over her shoulder - Tom read the motion just before she got her head around. He quickly diverted his gaze downwards, and found himself feeling like a schoolboy once more.

He made his way to the room farthest from her, and drew his sword once more. Laying it on the floor, he traced its edges and the age-old glyps that lined its sides. He traced a circle around it and began to whisper soft words of summoning magics; soon enough, the glyphs glowed a light blue as well as the circle. A few more words, and a second, identical blade lied atop the first. He had completed his assortment of weapons, as was necessary for any expedition. He proceeded to go to sleep.

((SWG, lets not let anything happen during the night...))

[Vortigern]

((I'm not saying the gods are actually involved. But it is a hell of a coincidence, and these are people who believe in gods, probably.))

"Shava, my little gnomess, of course the offer included you," said Theria, smiling down at the diminutive figure. "I could use some female company on the road. Too much testosterone otherwise." They both laughed, sharing the first feminine moment both of them had probably had in a while. "Now let's both get some sleep. It'll serve us well come tomorrow."

[some_weirdGuy]

((@ copa: Dont worry, i hadn't planned on anything exciting
Also, im apologising in advanced for any god-modding, if you dont like something i have made your character say then i will change it))

Zhar remained in his infantile mind set throughout the night, although he did not sleep, he did close his eyes, sucking his thumb like a child and quietly murmuring to himself.

At the crack of dawn however Zhar returned to his previous unpleasant self, cursing loudly at the others and yelling unpleasant things about them and their mothers.
"If he doesn't shut up i swear i'll wring his neck" said the irritated sounding dwarf, awoken after only a few hours of sleep after watching Zhar through half the night.
"he can be rather unpleasant, cant he?" said Illyriel, stretching as he joined Tom and Bazric.
Shava and Theria, who had been sleeping in the other room, came in.
"i take it our friend is back to 'normal'... if that can ever be applied to him" said Theria, Zhar pacing in the background and stopping to turn every so often and hurl another insult.
"...Bastards all of you! i hate the lot of you!"
"....just like i hate that cursed Demon! the conniving whore son! i'd like to seal him back up in that tower again, screw his 'Gift', if i wanted this i could've...." he stopped, noticing how the group was now listening intently to the secrets he was relieving
"Shut up you... you... Bastard! and what are you looking at you bunch of ugly..." he resumed his insults once more, and the others looked away
oo Zharss gruppyss todaysss
this one is always the grumpy one...
Zhar speaks truth
"...Shut Up the lota ya, i dont need you in my head telling me what i am and am not! piss off!"


Bazric leaned towards Shava "hey, is he still talking to us, or to himself? i can hardly keep up..."
"who knows, the crazy freak probably doesn't even know for himself..." she said, a skeptical eye gauging the pacing magicker...


((ok, so its early morning, are we going to set off on our adventure?))

[Vortigern]

((Hell yes we are! Trial and tribulation here we come!))

The insane magicker continued to spout all sorts of nonsense, delving into the realms of coherence every now and then. Theria grew quickly fed up with his ramblings.

"Someone gag him, please. I can't stand him this early in the morning. Bring him downstairs and we'll get out of this poor town." Illyriel obliged, forcing a cloth into Zhar's mouth and stemming the flow of vitriol. "We're heading through the wilderness for the next few days, so expect to meet a little unpleasant company along the way." Theria looked around. Everyone was present. "Let's move."

* * * * * * *

The woods ahead were deep, dark and intensely shadowed. Theria's skin tingled with joy at the sight of them. She was a creature of the forest by birth and by nature, and she felt at home wherever trees surrounded her. She could tell Illyriel was experiencing the same rapture, staring at the dense woodland. The others seemed less comfortable: Bazric was muttering something about caverns, Shava was silent, and Zhar seemed simply unhappy at having been forced along with a cloth in his mouth. They had removed it briefly, but the maniac had still not been able to shut up, so back in went the gag. Tom was silent, his face impassive. He seemed to Theria the sort of person who would be at peace at any of the four corners of the world, regardless of terrain or atmosphere.

The group carried on, into the woods. Birdsong rose from all sides, shadows flickered, twigs cracked underfoot. Theria smiled, closing her eyes for a moment, drinking in the pure pleasure of being home once more.

"Keep calm," ordered Theria, her voice beatific and enraptured, low and pure, undamaged by the world of man. "The trees can feel your hurt." She and Illyriel shared another smile, faces shining in jubilation. Suddenly Illyriel froze, touching Theria lightly on the shoulder.

"Something is not right. The trees are upset, Theria." Theria raised her head, listening intently. She began to sing, softly, a wordless tune conjured by the aeons, the sound of peace and harmony. Illyriel joined her in song, the low sound echoing off the trunks of the ancient trees. "There are men in the forest," whispered Illyriel. "Both dead and alive." Theria did not pause as Illyriel spoke, the song continuing all the while. As she sang the trees seemed to bend in closer, leaves rustling in the breeze, replying to the elf-lady who spoke with them. Theria finally finished singing, the last notes dying off in a cavernous, echoey rumble, settling in for a journey to the far reaches of the forest.

"There are Vyre abroad in these woods. Be on your guard."

[Copaman]

Tom took a deep breath and opened his eyes once more - he had closed them listening to the elfsong.

Slowly, he reached towards his back and drew his swords one at a time. He then flipped his left-handed sword around so that the point was behind him: from experience, he found that this let him hit quickly with his left hand but harder with his right. Besides, he could always spin it back around.

"We'll be in for a fight should more than two come at us. As she said, be on your guard."

He regained his stone, yet peaceful, concentration on nothing in particular. And then he realized what he was focusing on: his swords. As he looked at them, the glyphs began glowing their unique shade of blue and the tips shared a similar color. A rustle snapped his concentration, and he immediately entered his guard stance. Upon finding nothing threatening, he continued walking. It was no suprise that he felt his fingers tingling with anticipation of a fight... from birth he had been indoctrinated as all deathknelf are, in the heat of battle.

He put his hood up and his head down, and tensed his muscles. His concentration was now solidified to the point that a blast of fire would barely shake him. He muttered four words to the group once again. "Be on your guard."

His second utterance was slightly more grave. "Some of us might not live to see nightfall."

((OoooOooohhh big cliffhanger... will there be a really big ambush waiting for us? ))

[Mathijs]

''Aye...'' Bazric mumbled. ''Aye, I too sense something. I may not be too at home in these here woods, but the slight alteration in the air, the feelin' something's... out of phase here, it can only be attributed t'somethin' bad, a defiance of life. Undeath.''

He now walked besides Theria, his right hand on the handle of the sword, which hung on his back. ''If the going gets pale...'' Bazric said, ''the pale turn pro.'' This old Dwarven saying raised one of Theria's eyebrows, much to Bazric's amusement. ''Y'see lass, us dwarves usually dun' see too much sunlight, so we're pale, but that word can also be applied to-'' Theria put a hand on his shoulder and nodded. ''Yes Bazric, I understood,'' she said. ''Heh, alright then,'' Bazric answered. ''Now be ready...''

[Vortigern]

Theria took point, bow in hand. Illyriel was somewhere in the woods to her left, masked by the foliage and by his dark green cloak, camouflaged by the dim light and the colour of the woods. Tom, at the back of the group, moved ever so silently, and even Theria's highly attuned elven senses could not detect the sound of his passage.

"There's a clearing fifty yards ahead, full of blood and death," whispered Illyriel, right in Theria's ear. She almost jumped, having not heard him approach.

"You still move as silently as a shadow, Illyriel. Is there anyone living nearby?"

"On the far side, I think. I saw movement, but I don't know what."

"Be careful, then." Theria slowly made her way forward, edging closer and closer to the clearing. On the ground there lay maybe twenty bodies, blood pooling around many of them. Three, though, were dry, in spite of the gaping wounds torn in their flesh. "Vyre," she hissed. The Vyre were the most filthy, putrescent and vile creatures of Arsencia, living on the blood of others, immune to physical pain. There were two ways that she knew of to kill Vyre: magic, or removing the head and burying it deep underground. Until the head was buried and the healing magic of the earth itself severed the link between head and body, the limbs, torso and talons of the Vyre would remain active, intelligent and hungry for flesh and pain, if somewhat uncoordinated.

An arrow flashed out of the woods, hammering deep into her bow-staff. Theria's eyes widened in horror as she took in the engravings on the shaft.

"Drow!" shouted Illyriel, drawing his swords and leaping deep into the trees. Theria threw herself to the ground, slithering on her stomach back into cover. Bazric came rushing forward, accompanied by Tom and Shava, the gnomess riding on the dwarf's shoulder. Behind them Zhar came forward, trying to say something.

"Take the gag off him," ordered Theria. "He can help us here."

"I see eight drow, maybe ten humans and three Vyre," murmured Illyriel. Once again the wondrously talented wood elf had emerged from the shadows as silently as the dawn light. "Some fight we've got on our hands."

[Rafv Nin IV]

Shava slipped off Bazric's shoulder, and slinked off into the woods. She made her way to the interior of a dense shrub and hid there, avoiding the physical fight that she could take no part in. Although it would take intense concentration to notice her curled between the woody stems and dark leaves, Shava was able to see the majority of the clearing. She focused into a state of uncontrollable panic, retaining just enough of her sense to keep aware and be ready to attack. Shava peered earnestly through the bramble for humans--they would be the simplest to incapacitate.

[Mathijs]

Bazric watched Shava wandering off, and nodded to himself. He drew Justicar from his back and with a slight touch of his fingers, the runes engraved on the steel lit up. Bazric knew that stealth wasn't his speciality, especially outside of a cavern, so he didn't bother trying to remain hidden. Another moving of his hand lit up his armour in a golden glow, and he took his helmet from his backpack. Putting the massive steel contraption upon his head, the dwarf lept forward, seemingly unhindered by the massive weight of his full plate armour. Justicar firmly grasped, Bazric stormed into the clearing ahead.

A sly looking human, all suited up in a set of leather armour and carrying two large daggers, was the first to approach the sturdy looking dwarf. ''What's this?'' the man asked in a mocking tone. ''A glowing dwarf, with his sword on fire? Do you believe we are afraid of a little light, afraid of your primitive cave-magic?''

Bazric didn't answer, but laughed instead. He took a stance of combat, and prepared to deal a fatal blow. As his blade took flight, it was met with a clashing of metal, and the man grinned down upon him. ''So you wish to fight? How brave,'' the man remarked as Bazric spun back around and got ready for another slash. ''Yer bloody right I want te fight, ye bunch of rat-faced, woodman-killing sissies!''

After these words, the rest of the enemy party began closing in...

[Rafv Nin IV]

Shava watched the growing confrontation without interest--she was so preoccupied by her state of panic-and-yet-not-panic that she did not have even the slightest bit of concern for her newfound dwarven friend. By instinct Shava waited until another man closed in on Bazric, and struck a single moment before he attacked--the human's focus was so entirely on Bazric and his sword that he had no control whatsoever over his own emotions. The man's sword swing halted as he experienced unimaginable fear. Shava expected him to turn heel and flee at any moment.

[some_weirdGuy]

((sorry if this is to god mod-ish... if you dont want me doing stuff like this again then i wont, i just felt like doing something awesome and evil))

Zhar stood, drinking in the sense of death and bloodshed bathing the woods around him. It was.... wonderful.
He had sensed the darkness ahead before any of the others detected a disturbance. Unnoticed by everyone was the glee which could be seen in his eyes. for a moment his 'good' side had broken out, trying to warn the others of what he felt, but the gag had stopped him, and the personality had receded.

While the others moved forward to the fight Zhar remained behind. Like in the tavern he cast the enchantment, and he slid into the ground, changing into a black liquid mist...

He hovered by a tree, dark tendrils whisping around his indistinct form. He could not help but feel something as his eyes were drawn to the Vyre among the opposing group, they were more like him now then the humans... but of coarse, not nearly the same...
I might have liked to be a Vyre, it would have been... pleasant.
He watched as the group fought with the attackers, noticing suddenly the little gnome tucked away in the tree he was behind. He had another chuckle at the creatures misfortune, before moving in the get some of the action... with this group around he did not know when he would get another chance to take victims, so he might as well stock up now.

Like a dark fog Zhar descended upon the evil men, he picked one at random that he found to his liking, the darkness within the mans soul was greater then those around him, and Zhar couldn't resist.
The dark mist flowed towards the man, flowing through his mouth and ears and though his skin. The man let out a cry as he was lifted.

Suddenly the man stiffened, and landed again. his eyes were now a deep black, no pupils, but a slight dark purple glow emanated from within, showing through his eyes, mouth and ears like a jackolantern.

Zhar shivered with happiness
"this is wonderful..." the demonic kriss materialised in his hand, and he stabbed the nearest man in the chest. Others who had been watching, shocked as the horrific possession occurred before their eyes, snapped to action.
"thats not Van anymore! he's possessed! kill the poor bastard!" and so Van's 'friends' turned on him...

Within the mans head Zhars chuckling could be head clearly; your body is mine now...,
and all Van could do was scream out, mentally, against Zhars control, helpless to stop his body from carry out the battle against his 'friends'...

[Vortigern]

((No, I'm fine with you doing that. As long as you don't try it on any of us. ))

Theria stayed low as Bazric leapt forward to confront the humans. She slid upright against a tree trunk, hiding as best she could, waiting for the moment to strike. She nocked an arrow to her bow, preparing to swing out and fire at whatever target she could find first. As she did so, her eye was caught by two things: first, the sudden unconquerable terror appearing in the eyes of the human facing off against Bazric, and second, the black wispy tendrils emerging from a man in the centre of the group. Then her battle senses tuned in again, pointing out to her the greatest threats. That had to be the Drow. No doubt Illyriel would be off in the woods somewhere, picking them off one by one, but Theria felt she could at least give him a hand. She scanned the tree line on the far side of the clearing, and caught a flash of purplish-grey flesh. The arrow zipped off the string, flying straight and true through the air, rewarding the long years of training with a satisfyingly wet thud and a gurgling scream.

"Lucky shot," she muttered. "But where are the Vyre?" She thought deeply as she automatically drew another arrow, eyes scanning the clearing while she remained deeply immersed in the shadows of the trees and sent it into the midst of the human flesh in the clearing. "Zhar!" she shouted. "Seek out the Vyre! Zhar!" She had no idea if the human would have heard her, or even cared. He might, too, have slipped away already, leaving them to fight on their own. She had to hope his humanity would win out.

[Mathijs]

''Is this all the strength ye can muster, long-shanks?'' Bazric yelled as he cleaved through the legs of the panicking human, scared by Gnome-magic. The lifeless body dropped before him as Bazric shook his head. He then turned around and noticed the sudden uproar of the human infighting, and stopped to think for a moment.

Hmm... that one man there...

And then it hit him, he detected Zhar's presence throughout the man's body. He decided to ignore his righteous instinct for now, and ran over to the brawling. ''Dun' forget about me now, lads!'' he yelled as his blade dug deep into a man's spine. ''Dun' ever forget about the dwarf!''

As Bazric engaged in combat, a strange feeling crept up on him. He turned around, and on the edges of the clearing, he felt a presence so clear and so evil, he could almost see it physically. ''Theria!'' he yelled. ''Theria! Vyre!''

[Copaman]

Tom had been off with Illyriel taking care of straggling humans and drow. His fight looked more like a well-choreographed dance; he didn't have to put in much effort to take out his targets.

He'd flip off a tree, and run one person through. He followed that up with a spin over another's back, plunging his swords into their chest at the point where neck becomes shoulder. All the while, he blades began glowing a more and more intense shade of their signature blue. As he lacerated the throat and chest of yet another drow, he heard the call of Vyre and headed off towards the clearance. As he broke the cover of the trees, he let the others be known of his presence.

"The Vyre are mine!" he shouted. Some human thought he could slow Tom up. As he walked up to Tom, Tom could sense his swagger. "You'll never be able to beat them. They're fierce. Not to mention, you'll have to get thorugh me first."

Tom laughed quiety. "Get through you? No problem." He immediately threw his sword into the man's gut. Running forward, he smiled at the shocked man and jumped. Flipping through the air, Tom grabbed hold of his sword and yanked it along with him, opening up a huge hole and spilling the man's severed entrails on the earth. His blades began to burn a bright blue flame, and as he looked up, he saw the Vyre coming into the clearing.

He looked at his hands as he stowed his swords. The bands of colored skin that adorned him were moving, crawling across his hand. He pulled out his bow and nocked his first arrow. The Vyre began to come out from the trees - perfect for Tom. His arrowheads were burning with the same flame that his swords had been, and as they flew through the air, that flame kept burning. The arrow hit the first Vyre in the chest... and the Vyre laughed and snapped the shaft, pulling the shaft out but leaving the arrowhead in. It looked down in suprise as it noticed a blue fire spouting from the wound. The fire began to climb all across its body, engulfing it in an undying blue flame.

Tom had begun to laugh meniacally. The ground around him was burning in blue flame, and he had redrawn his swords which were now covered in the blue flame. "Come..." he said. "Come and face your annihilation!"

His eyes gave off beams of bright blue light as well as his mouth. It almost appeared as if the bands which adorned his skin were aflame as well.

"Abandon all hope, ye who fights here. The armageddaeon rides not on a pale horse, but on the edge of my blade!"

Edited by Copaman, 20 November 2008 - 07:36 PM.