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Forever Evil; [private; Kilad, Seele] GRP
Topic Started: Sat Jun 4, 2011 5:03 am (926 Views)
Kalim
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Kalim ignored the blazing mid-afternoon sun as he swept through Taras' debris riddled streets, only pausing to exchange the ocassional nod with one of the city's many volunteers as they passed one another. It was a truly sobering site, the utter decimation of the city; he had seen the grand capitol before its destruction; it had been his main source of work in days long past. Ironically enough, when the demons struck, and his services were most needed, was when he decided to abandon the city. Kal harbored no feelings of guilt, of course; only a fool would choose to fight an impossible battle. His life was more important that a cluster of buildings and roads, no longer how long it had taken to build. He eyed what had once been a famous tavern, now a pile of rubble. The monsters had certainly been thorough.

His musings were pointless now, of course. The past was the past, and Taras was well on its way to recovery. And, perhaps, it would serve to line his pockets with money once again. The officials in charge of the rebuilding paid fair wages to anyone interested in lending a hand, but even more so, they wanted fighters. The city was still a dangerous place even after its destruction, albeit from a different source. Thugs and criminals assailed the city now, preying on innocents who cared only for returning the city to it's majestic origins. That didn't matter to Kal; he could care less about restoring the place. But the money...that was a different matter. A slight smile touched his lips, and a finger lightly stroked the hilt of his sword, sheathed on his back. A different matter, indeed.

Turning a street corner, he came across a newly begun restoration zone. Workers cleared huge piles of rubbles, the remains of crushed buildings, away, creating mostly empty plots of land, which in turn awaited the homes that would someday grace them. It only took a moment for Kal to find the supervisor from his perch atop a stool, shouting orders. Kal waited patiently for him to finish speaking to one of his workers, then approached him. The man's eyebrows lifted in surprise and recognition at the sight of the swordsman.

"Eh?" he grunted, looking Kal up and down. "You, again? I thought you'd already left the city! Whaddya want?" He had to shout to be heard over the clamor of the site.

Kal stepped closer to him so he wouldn't have to speak as loudly. "You know full well what I want, Dale." His voice was quiet, and he shifted his shoulders so that the man would notice the sword on his back. "Anything new? And better paying than the last job?"

The man's mouth twisted in a grimace. "Always work with you, eh? You gonna regret it on your deathbed, you know?

"That's my concern, not yours."

Dale chuckled. "Fair enough. Yeah, I've got something for ya...beastie in the western slums. Apparently, people had been gettin' killed at night, with bite marks, of all things, on 'em. People gettin' chewed to pieces! Fellas on top want it dead, and they'll pay a nice price for the man that does it. And that's all I got to tell ya." Chortling, the man walked off, already bellowing commands. Kal turned away, staring at the steadily-setting sun.

Mauled...? It was definitely an intriguing proposal, far different from the usual rabble he had to clear up, and as such, his reward was sure to be much greater. But what the hell was it? It sounded like some kind of wild animal, but no natural creature, no matter how daring, would venture into Taras. The place may be in ruins, but the sheer number of workmen would scare off any potential predators. Whatever it was, it was no normal beast. That only left a few possibilities...and none of them good. He might be dealing with something far greater than a mere criminal or pest problem on this one. He was perfectly confident in his martial abilites - his broadsword had cut down plenty of foes. But...if he went and got himself killed due to overconfidence, his sister would never forgive him. Unconciously, and lost in thought, he gripped his sword as he gazed at the sky. Was it worth the risk...?
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Kilad
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OOC: Sorry for the wait. I was busy moving, but now I'm finally settled. In this post, I did a minor bunny; I hope you don't mind, but if you do, just PM me and I'll change it.

There existed a memory that was Taras. Now it was the ash of roses. Rubble and dust permeated the sites where spectacular edifices, testaments of former glory, once stood. Recently, the seed of rejuvenation had sparked to life, but overall the restoration was a decrepit phoenix carrying a giant, ill supported for the grandiosity of the measure. It required as much help as possible, and Kilad was one such generous soul, who decided to dedicate his time and effort to remedy the catastrophe, motivated not by reason of currency, but by reason of compassion.

The young Tiefling strolled through the dilapidated streets with a grim expression tainting his attractive effeminate features. His phthalo green eyes squinted on account of the brilliant sun and swirling dust, as he gazed at the hustle and bustle around him: workers running back and forth, clearing debris, laying stones, and putting up wooden posts that would function as the buildings’ foundation. He wasn’t here to construct, though. He was here to demolish—

—criminals, those unscrupulous thugs, who relentlessly beat and kicked at this fallen paraplegic city, which, even unopposed by the ruffians, would still strain desperately to get off the ground. Unlike the other members of his notorious race and heritage, this Tiefling wasn’t one to do nothing while iniquities were being committed. He had been raised by his late mother to help those in needs, to protect the vulnerable, and to realize peace, justice, and harmony. In addition, her unfortunate demise by his very own hand impressed Kilad to venerate her memory by upholding these virtues.

“Where the f**k’s Dale?” he mumbled to himself, having received word earlier that afternoon that if he wanted to know which criminals needed immediate attention, Dale was the man to talk to. “Pretty sure I’m in the right area, but I don’t hear him.” Kilad had been told that Dale would be the fat man shouting orders at the other workers. Then, suddenly as the sun began to set, the Tiefling heard a thunderous voice resonate over the cacophony of construction, “No, you idiot! I said ‘right!’ My right! Whaddya learn in school, boy?”

Kilad turned his head to the left and spotted the large man a few dozen yards away, but so distracted was he by Dale that he failed to notice the blond swordsman gazing up into the sky until the two collided.
Edited by Kilad, Sat Jun 11, 2011 11:49 pm.
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Seele
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There was something about the ruins that intrigued him.

Maybe it was the familiar streets and buildings, reduced to rubble. Maybe it was the blood that still stained the cobbles. Maybe it was the scourge of the world that hid in the shadows of ruined buildings and collapsed hovels. Maybe it was the scent of desperation and fear and hunger and sickness and violence and sorrow in the air that permeated every minute of every day. Of course, he had always seen the streets of Taras in such a manner, due to his curse. Yet for the first time, reality mirrored his cursed vision, and Seele was seeing the same world as the others who inhabited this bleak, dilapidated hell.

The elf sat cross-legged on the top of a ruined statue, his eyes closed, as still as his stony perch. It had once been the figure of a beautiful maiden, draped in a flowing dress that barely protected her carved curves, her marble arms outstretched as if to embrace the very city around her. It had been a renowned piece of artwork, once. However, most of its features had been melted off during the fall and subsequent sacking of the city. The once pristine marble had been blackened by fire. The sorcerer could taste the twinge of demonic magic in the stone that suggested some fell creature had been responsible for the statue’s vandalism. He brushed his fingers over the warped stone, feeling the demonic energy resonate with his own dark magic, and a slight smile touched his thin lips. Taras had always been an eyesore, with its elaborate frescoes and huge murals and flowing architecture. His only regret was that he had not been present for its downfall.

A rustle from below alerted Seele to another’s presence. His eyes slid open, golden irises gleaming in the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat. A woman was picking her way through the rubble, completely oblivious to his presence. Her hair was dirty and matted, lazily tied into a loose ponytail, and her once-fine clothes had been reduced to little more than rags. Grime caked her exposed flesh, and a rusty dagger hung at her hip, although she did not have the gait of a trained warrior. It was no longer safe to walk these streets without arms, and even then, they did not always protect the wielder. She was the only other soul in sight; a collapsed building had made the isolated square difficult to reach, which was one of the reasons Seele had chosen the spot. It was a still day, so the voluminous black cloak he wore did not betray his presence by its flapping, and neither did he make her aware of his presence. She edged closer and closer to the statue, valiantly searching through the broken stones and splintered wooden beams. Maybe her home had stood here once, next to the famed statue. Maybe her belongings lay among the ruins, obscured by the rubble of her home. Or maybe it was a simple looter, trying to better her luck through the misfortune of others. Thieves, pickpockets, and other villainous individuals had thrived in the ruins of the city.

Of course, her identity was unimportant. She had wandered into his trap.

Seele withdrew a long, thin wand from his robe. While the women’s back was turned he began to inscribe his summoning glyph in mid-air, dark energy following the course of the wand’s tip. Seele’s mouth moved in silent incantation as he drew twists and curves of the complicated symbol. By the time she noticed him, the glyph was nearly complete. Seele heard her horrified gasp, and he could guess why. He probably barely looked liking a living creature. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, a sharp contrast against his completely black attire. His hair was wispy and silver in color, but it was his eyes that usually alienated and terrified others. His irises were a deep golden hue, which was unusual, but his pupils were the most disquieting aspect of his gaze. They were shaped like hourglasses, the only physical aspect of his eternal curse. The brand on his cheek glowed with dark energy as he drew more of his dark magic to complete the summoning.

Summon: Demonic Panther


The lines of the glyph exploded outwards, forming the shape of a much larger animal. The outline of a large feline slowly stalked down the statue’s length, and within the crackling lines of energy a creature quickly coalesced. Heavily muscled and with fur so dark it defied description, at first it appeared as if Seele had simply summoned an abnormally large panther. But when it opened its eyes they burned with an inner fire and sinister intelligence, bathing the surrounding rubble in an evil red light. The girl’s expression turned from revulsion to terror as she staggered backwards from the creature, hands fumbling for the dagger at her hip. The cat slowly walked around her as she drew the weapon, large paws silently and easily navigating the treacherous footing. The girl turned in order to keep the animal in sight, both hands clutching the pommel of the shaking dagger. Seele knew he could take advantage of her inattention, but knew his aid was unnecessary. The demonic panther growled at the girl, who yelped and took a few stumbling steps away from the beast. Instead of pouncing, like a real panther might, the creature instead narrowed its eyes and pulled its lips back from a row of sharp, obsidian teeth in a silent snarl. Seele felt the demonic creature tap its own dark magic, and his expression changed to a feral grin. The girl cried out as sudden pain wracked her body, causing her fingers to spasm so she dropped the dagger. Before she could recover the panther had struck, frying-pan size paws slamming into her chest. Within moments it was over, her body slashed by razor sharp claws and her throat torn open by black teeth. Seele stood and lightly dropped to the ground, walking silently towards his pet as it reveled in the kill.

From this distance, he could see the woman was much younger than he had guessed at first. Barely older than a girl, and she had probably been very attractive before her neck had been ripped out. Yet in Seele’s cursed vision, all traces of beauty were demolished as thoroughly as Taras had been. Her skin seemed to wrinkle and rot as he watched, her teeth yellowing and falling out of bloody gums, her eyes melting in the depths of their sockets as her hair turned white and fell out in clumps. It was a sight the elf was accustomed to, and his expression betrayed no emotion of disgust or horror. He ran his hands through the thick hair of the demonic panther, inhaling the musky scent of the feline and the iron tang of fresh blood. Absentmindedly stepping around the spreading pool of blood, Seele gestured with one hand, calling to the kernel of dark power that was his arcane gift. Crackling black energy flowed from his fingers, wreathing the digits and covering his hand with a glove of obsidian energy. Soul Bind

He plunged the sizzling hand into the corpse’s ruined chest, the skin bubbling and melting away from the dark energy. Her ribs disintegrated, allowing the elf to wrap his fingers directly around the cooling heart. Seele eyes shone with a manic glee as he exerted himself both physically and magically. When he withdrew his hand from the steaming hole, his fingers were tightly clenched around a small object. He slowly uncurled his fingers to reveal a perfectly round gemstone as black as night resting in the center of his palm. Through the spell, Seele could feel the fear and anguish that still consumed the soul, even in death. The elf stared at the jewel for a moment, grinning openly. He slipped the crystal into a pouch in his sash, his grin broadening as it clinked lightly against the other gems he had stored there. All of them had died by his hand in the past few days, alone and in agony. He had killed an entire dozen of the vermin that inhabited the ruins since his return to the city, and none had even proven a challenge. Soon he would have collected enough soul gems in order to progress with his plans. Seele stepped back, silently giving permission for the panther to eat its fill of the corpse, partially so that its teeth marks would hide the telltale hole he had left in her chest. As soon as the creature had its fill he would dump the mauled corpse in a nearby alley like the rubbish it was.
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Kalim
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Unfortunately, the slowly drifting clouds, painted pink and orange from the steadily descending sun, held no answers for cloud, but as soon as he brought his thoughts back to reality and turned to go...elsewhere, to come up with a plan of action, he was suddenly jarred from the side. The jolt was so unexpected that he almost lost his footing, and as soon as his boots settled back on the ground, he spun, right hand jerking to his longsword, clutching the hilt. He had drawn it halfway before he realized what it was he was looking at - not an attacker, but just a careless passerby.

Damn...! He slammed the sword back into it's sheath. "Watch it," he growled, though he knew that he had overeacted; he needed to calm himself down if he wanted to take this job. Briefly, Kal closed his eyes, little out a short breath before opening them again. Fighting in this condition would be dangerous. He had to take it easy. Or easier, at least. He glanced at the man that had run into him, to get his mind off of darker thoughts. The man was a little taller than himself, with peculiar green eyes. He appeared human, at least. Definitely not a monster.

Well, hurray for that, he thought sarcastically to himself, allowing himself a small smile. It was then that Kal noticed who the fellow was looking at - Dale, running around shouting loud enough to wake the dead. At first Kal passed him off as just another volunteer, and immediately he moved to walk off, but he stopped as an idea occured to him, and glanced back. There was only one other reason someone would come to Dale. He had been to this site several times throughtout the past week, and hadn't seen this man once. He could possibly just be a new face, but...what harm could there be in asking? Seeking help from others wasn't in his nature, and a partner would mean the pay being halved, but...what was more important? Money or life?

An ironic thought coming from a sellsword, he knew.

Now, how to go about this? Straightforward and blunt, he decided, just like he always did. "Hey," he said, addressing the stranger. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the tumultous noise. "Are you...a mercenary?" Despite the volume of it, his voice was calm and flat - Yanri had once told him that he sounded constantly angry, and she never believed him when he said that that was his normal voice. "If you're interested...I've got a job that I could use some help with."

Help...how he hated that word. He became a mercenary so that he could become independant, but it seemed like he had a long way to go before he became a true freelancer. But he couldn't afford to die yet. He had a sister to look after, and a brother to prove a point to. Until Kent apologized, he would fight his way through hell and back if he had to.
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Kilad
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Fate functions in ironic fashion. O, how the most random encounters, as when two people accidentally bump into one another, are veritably without coincidence. Such was the case when the sidetracked Tiefling knocked shoulders with another distracted man walking by, forever sealing their destinies together, like when a mountain slide traps a pair of travelers within a cave, the outside light disappearing, the bleak darkness engulfing, as it did on that fateful sunset, an omen for things to come.

Upon impact, Kilad turned away from Dale whom he’d been staring at to face the person he’d collided with. The man was quick to rebuke the Tiefling for the accident, which Kilad quickly scoffed at, amused that some people can get mad so easily for the slightest offenses even when they’re partly at fault. Compared to the Tiefling, the man appeared around the same age, was slightly shorter but more muscular, and had blond hair in a similar style. The two glared into each other’s eyes for a brief but tense moment before Kilad turned back to look at Dale and continued walking in that direction.

He didn’t cross even a third of the distance before he heard the same man’s voice shouting above the boisterous construction. “Hey,” Kilad stopped and turned back around, “Are you…”

Going to have to shove my foot up your f**king ass? the Tiefling thought, eyes narrowing.

“...a mercenary?” Surprisingly, the young man’s tone was calmer, more relaxed, this time around, so despite the possibility that the question itself could have been taken as a challenge, Kilad assumed the man’s sincerity and offered a nod. The blond swordsman continued, “If you're interested...I've got a job that I could use some help with.”

The Tiefling chuckled lightly, musing First, Mr. Big Balls Quick-to-start-some-s**t tells me off and now he’s asking for my help. Well that’s just great.

Kilad responded back, loud enough to be heard, “You… need help… from me? Huh! My goodness!” His words were smothered in sarcastic surprise, but the wide smile on his face made clear his benign, joking intent. “And what exactly do you need help with—something Dale give you?”
Edited by Kilad, Sun Jun 19, 2011 11:46 pm.
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Kalim
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All the irritation and frustration came rushing back with the stranger's sarcastic response, and even though Kal was fully aware the man was joking, it still riled him. He wasnt't in the mood for jokes...though, still, he briefly thought, he made those kind of comments to people all the time. His words had brought him to blows with plenty of others, whether they be aliied sellswords or complete strangers. A little returning fire was only fair, he guessed. Still...if he wasn't asking the fellow for help, he would...Kal realized that he was slowly turning his body sideways, into his fighting stance, and immediately caught himself. No. He had to be calm and in control. Dammit to hell. Why couldn't Dale have just tossed him some thieves to gut? It was so much easier.

Kal nodded in confirmation to the man's question. "Yeah, a job from Dale." He glanced around at all the surrounding workers, and nodded towards a ruined building across the street and a short distance down the road. "I don't want to explain this with so many people around. If you don't mind..." He was certain he'd sound paranoid to the other mercenary, but spies were certain to be hidden among the workers, people with the intent of crushing the already ruined Taras beneath their feet. Two mercenaries working for the city would be prime targets for assassins. Keeping a low profile in this city was difficult enough; he had already had to deal with a few murder attempts, with more sure to come. There was no point in making that any easier for the wretches by standing in a busy building zone and shouting their intentions to one another.

Kal began walking without even bothering to see if the other was following; if he didn't have the curiousity and determination to do so, then he wouldn't be very helpful, anyway. The noise began to die down as they left the site, and by the time they reached his designated spot, they could talk freely, without raising their voices. Kal cast his eyes briefly over the obliterated building before turning to his potential ally, scowling. The place, he realized, had been an orphanage, a place for children with no where else to go. And they had died here. Those demons...bastards.

"My name is Kal. I'm a freelance mercenary." He looked at the man, for the first time actually noticing his appearance. He seemed normal enough - not that he was expecting anything else, but with so many bizzare races running around, it was usually a good idea to make certain. Kal took a step closer, lowering his voice. It was this that he wanted no one to hear, for two reasons. One, if a passerby heard, it might cause a panic, which would undoubtedly destroy any chance for decent payment. Two, if a spy heard, they would know where to lay a trap for them.

"There's some kind of monster roaming around in western area of the city, killing at night. I don't know what the hell it is...," Kal sighed, turning around to face the street, facing west, "But...it can't be normal. Something like that isn't exactly easy to kill.

Which is why I'm asking for help, he thought, but didn't say. His pride wouldn't allow him.
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Kilad
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Keen Kilad was quick to observe that his sarcastic remark had riled the blond swordsman. Clearly this was a man short of temper who had to consciously restrain himself from rashly acting out. While his impetuous ire slightly amused the Tiefling at that moment, it also produced profound worry, that if left untempered, for even just a second, it might place the two in a precarious position and ensnare them like quicksand.

Can I risk working with someone that might lose his cool at the wrong moment and cause grave misfortune to the both of us? Kilad thought while the blond mercenary confirmed that Dale had given the job. I suppose he would think the same thing about me if he knew…

The Tiefling thought back to that fateful afternoon a few months back when he had witnessed the brutal rape of his mother by an unknown assailant. Upon sighting the transgression, he lost all control of his actions: the demonic demeanor trapped within him by a mentally constructed prison broke free, the steel bars of virtue and righteousness shattered. Only once his rage had been quelled by the double homicide did Kilad repossess his sanity, only then did he realize what he’d done.

The Tiefling came back to his present senses, noticed that the blond mercenary was walking away, and so decided to follow a few yards behind. As the sun dipped behind the horizon, and the cloudless sky turned to a dark ultramarine blue, two dark figures left the construction zone and the cacophonous noise behind, walking down the violet ribbon of road, illuminated by a large broken fingernail.

They entered a demolished building, which by the swing set and game court outside Kilad presumed it to be an orphanage. Inside, the roof had collapsed, and everything was ash. Evidently, demons had set the place aflame with the children still inside, dozens of trailing lines in the stonewalls where they attempted futilely to claw out. The Tiefling was appalled and disgusted both by the setting and by the wicked blood that coursed through his veins. His attention finally averted back to the blond swordsman who introduced himself as Kalim and then continued with talk of their assignment, a supernatural monster that kills in the night.

The Tiefling stood silently for a few moments, digesting the information, and then looked squarely at Kalim before speaking, “My name’s Kilad. Could be a vampire—any mention of bite marks? Did Dale say that the creature only kills at night? We might then want to hunt for this thing during the day when it's weaker."
Edited by Kilad, Mon Jun 20, 2011 11:15 pm.
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Seele
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Seele returned to the enclosed square, relieved of his burden. He had dropped the corpse several blocks from here, in a large pile of discarded rubble. It would likely remain there for days before being discovered. The demonic panther looked up as the elf reentered the space, growling a greeting. It had been lapping up the spilled blood, helping to mask the spot where the girl had died. Seele kneeled next to the evil creature, clenching his fingers in its thick pelt. Although he retained few of his powers from the years he spent as a demonic host, his ability to summon fell creatures had not diminished. He would never admit it, but Seele oftentimes found the monstrosities under his command more pleasant company than any mortal. They could never attempt to betray him. The nature of their contract meant the creatures were incredibly loyal and betraying their oath would result in their violent repulsion from the mortal plane. Seele let a rare unguarded grin curl his lips as the demonic panther purred and began to lick his pale face, its rough tongue leaving a dark streak of blood on his forehead. Seele took out his summoning wand, leaning back from the great cat. He laid the point of the wand on the panther’s forehead, reversing the summoning with a thought. The panther continued to purr as waves of dark energy washed over its lithe frame, covering it entirely. With a muted pop the panther disappeared, causing the elf’s cloak to rustle from the displaced air. He knew that the demonic creature would be awaiting his new summons on the demonic plane as it digested its most recent kill.

Seele stood and stretched, surveying the ruined plaza with an unreadable expression. Although the crooked statue had been an acceptable perch, it was too open, too easy to be spotted. This time he head to the edge of the square, where the front of a building had been torn off. This had exposed both the first and second floor to the elements, with the roof mainly intact. The second floor was heavily shadowed even now, in the middle of a sunny day. Seele raised one arm, holding his open hand towards the gaping hole. With a though a matte black chain shot out of his voluminous sleeve, slamming into the crumbling brick. The elf possessed two such chains, one wrapped around each forearm like improvised gauntlets. Although the power of his Kyton demon had once animated the links, now his own mastery of the dark arts allowed for them to move at his command. With a swift yank he retracted the chain, pulling his thin frame up to the second level of the house. He pulled himself up the rest of the way, the chain settling around his limb with a soft clinking noise. Seele knelt on the dusty floor, sharp eyes taking in the ruined surroundings. He had a clear view of the easiest way to access the square, and there was no way for an enemy to sneak up to the second floor without him noticing.

Seele sat down with his knees pressed against his chest, fingers interlocked around his ankles. The summoning wand rested on the floorboards directly in front of him, easily in reach. Just to make sure I stay hidden… The elf closed his eyes as he called on his dark gift. When he opened them again there was a grackle of black energy in the golden irises. Shadow Cloak. The darkness all around the elf seemed to come to life, dark tendrils shooting towards his thin frame. The mobile shadows wrapped around his body like a second skin, completely covering every inch of skin. Camouflaged in the shadows, Seele watched the plaza below with calm focus. Eventually, more refugees would enter this place. And when they did, he would kill them.
Edited by Seele, Thu Jun 23, 2011 2:50 pm.
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Kalim
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The reaching shadows cast by the surrounding, gutted buildings drifted slowly as the sun descended ever downward, Kal turned back to face his companion, whose name, he learned, was Kilad. He frowned slightly, thinking as he heard his suggestions. "Dale did say that the thing, whatever it is, has been killing at night. I think he'd mention if there had been any daylight murders..." His frown turned into a scowl; Dale was always vague about missions, and the little details he left out usually led to disaster, but something like this was important enough that he doubted the man would ignore it. "A vampire is possible, but according to his information, the corpses were mauled. I don't know much about vampires, but do they usually chew their victims to pieces? They're after blood, not flesh." Unless they were particularly violent, which was all too possible. Which would be worse? A rabid monster, or an intelligent, but violent, vampire? Neither case was comforting.

Even so, the deliberate process of thinking and planning had managed to calm him down, and leaning back against what remained of the orphanage, casually resting a single finger on the hilt of his blade. The presence of the weapon, as always, comforted him. The one sword had seen him through plenty of conflicts, and so long as he posessed it, he knew he was in control. In battle, there was always a way out, so long as obstacles were faced head on, unfaltering. The same went for this one.

Reassured, he pushed himself away from the rubble, and nodded west. "At any rate, I agree with you about heading to the area before nightfall. I'd like to know the area we'll be hunting in. It wouldn't be enjoyable to trip over a pile of rubble while chasing the thing. And staying here won't help, anyway." Though, he realized, it was far more likely that this would result in a fight rather than a chase. The beast, or vampire, or whatever in the name of the gods it was, wasn't afraid to prey on humans. Two more would make no difference to it. It seemed his sword would see more bloodshed tonight. Hopefully it would be the blood of an enemy, and not his own.

"Let's move. We'll talk on the way." Casting his cloak behind him, he set off at a steady pace, his boots at briefly sifting through ash and the remains of charred brick, crumbled into dust, before striking the smoother, but still ruined, road. Was there anything in this city that hadn't been destroyed? When he first arrived a week ago, it had done little to affect him, but after spending time here...

He glanced at Kilad as he reached the street. "So...now's the time to choose whether you want to take this job or not. I've already decided." To be honest, he would be surprised if Kilad said yes. It was an obviously dangerous job, simply due to how vague it was. A wise soldier never rushed into an unknown situation, no matter what rewards were to be gained from it. But for him, it was a matter of principal. If he fled from every job that made him nervous, he would never become a skilled mercenary. Without experience, he'd be forced to rely on others, like this Kilad. Therefore, with or without the man, he was pressing on. His sword would seem him through, just like it had for the past three years.
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Kilad
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Kilad listened intently while the blond mercenary divulged what little information he knew about the mysterious murderer. The Tiefling's eyes widened in horror and his young face turned pale as bone upon hearing that the victims weren't simply killed, but chewed up and mutilated beyond any recognition. The prospect of going after such a beast filled Kilad's heart with trepidation, undeniably, but as a child he'd been taught to overcome one's terrors, that fear was a prison that stopped people from doing right action. He was scared, but outweighing that incapacitating emotion was a sense of compassion for the victims, retribution to serve them, and longing to prevent any more of these senseless, despicable murders. He clenched his fists till his knuckles turned white; meanwhile, his phthalo green eyes narrowed, his brows pinched, and his effeminate face turned to a stone cold frown.

Silently, he followed Kalim out of the ruined orphanage and back onto the rubbled road. When they met the street, the blond mercenary turned to the Tiefling and asked whether or not he was in on the job to seek out and stop the killer. Kilad looked toward the west where the sky was darkening, a black future lay ahead, possibly an end to his own life. He thought of the merciless killer and the inevitable danger that would incur should he decide to pursue the villain. He thought of the swordsman beside him, who had proven himself unwavering in his ambition, but his rashness produced further worry in the Tiefling's mind. Kilad turned to the east, looking back at the road from which they came and the fingernail moon hanging in the sky. He thought of the orphanage's dead children, being burnt alive in their imprisonment, and then of the mauled corpses laying in forsaken alleys, of their families who would never know what happened because their bodies were mutilated beyond recognition. He thought of his mother who he had accidentally killed, of the lessons she had taught, and of the virtues she had instilled. Though fear crawled through his flesh and blood, Kilad was determined to rise above it and help Kalim in the task of finding the killer and seeking justice.

He turned back toward the black future, glanced at his partner in arms, and said, "Let's go."
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Kalim
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Kilad's simple confirmation surprised him, but he could see the determination in his new ally's eyes, and didn't verbally question it. As usual, though, his mind ran in circles. Was the fellow that desperate for money? But he hadn't even asked about the pay, and he had seemed enraged at hearing what happened to the victims. Most mercenaries, and even soldiers, would be used to that sort of thing. It wasn't something you wanted to hear about, but anyone that held a sword for any length of time knew that the world was a brutal place. Murder was nothing to get worked up about; it happened every day, and if you wanted to maintain your own sanity, you had to just shrug it off. That was how he thought, anyway.

He just nodded, his eyes not betraying his thoughts. He would keep his opinions to himself, as usual. He led the way, not hesitating once about which road to take; he had studied the map of the city thoroughly, and though the landscape had changed considerably after the attack, most of the roads were still in their original location, even if they consisted of nothing but rubble-strewn paths and massive craters. Travelling across some of them could be quite a chore, but he knew which mostly still intact, and it was those streets that he led them down. They walked for a considerable length of time, but eventually, they reached their destination. He could tell from the surroundings; this area was even more run-down than other parts of the city. The slums had been in terrible condition from the day the city was first constructed, but now it was like a scene from hell. He glanced at the sky. They had just barely managed to beat the sun, but in a few minutes, this place would be blanketed in darkness. They would need to move quickly.

He walked into what he believed had once been a square, in which a statue of a beautiful woman loomed over them like the guardian of a tomb. He gazed up at it, curious. Why had the masons bothered to build something so magnificent in such a place? Maybe, once upon a time, these slums hadn't been so bad. All that was lost in the past now, of course. Idle fancies would do him no good today. He turned to Kilad.

"Any ideas on where we should start? This is a pretty large area. Maybe we should split up."
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Kilad
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Fierce determination emanated from Kilad’s eyes as he affirmed the decision to hunt the killer. Kalim offered no more reply, simply nodding, and the two warriors started off down the road toward whatever future that lay ahead. They didn’t speak as they traversed the ruined city, but no more words were necessary. They were steadfast in their goals, and though their reasons differed tremendously, they were equally potent to each of the swordsmen.

Kalim led the way swiftly, seeming to know the layout of the area, though it was obliterated and nothing like the Taras that Kilad remembered visiting as a child. The sun continued to fall below the western horizon, darkening the sky, but before it completely disappeared, the two had made their destination in a surprisingly quick fashion.

The square courtyard bore a similar resemblance to the rest of the demolished city and of a memory from long ago. The buildings were gravely damaged, roofs and walls collapsed, casting large chunks of rubble upon the cracked ground. Then the Tiefling spotted the only wisp of beauty around, and he remembered that he’d once stood in this exact spot. It was a large marble statue, once a maiden, beautifully crafted in flowing garb, her arms outstretched as if to embrace those that gazed upon her image. Kilad reminisced on once visiting this place many years ago on an excursion for goods with his mother. He didn’t remember much about the trip, but that striking statue had embedded in his memory, reminding him of better times, before the world became so hostile, before unbearable misery entered his life.

Presently, the maiden was decapitated; her forearms were missing as well. The Tiefling’s eyes scurried the ground and spotted her head, lolled on its side, with a chipped smile that mocked his presence. What had been an inviting and promising sight was now forbidding and ominous.

He then heard Kalim break the silence, asking if they should split up. Kilad turned to face him and replied quietly, “No, if the killer’s around, it’d be better that we stick together. We wouldn’t want him taking us down one by one.”
Edited by Kilad, Mon Jul 18, 2011 11:31 pm.
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Seele
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Hidden by the thick layer of darkness, Seele's golden eyes gleamed with malice and magic as his next pair of victims entered the ruined plaza. His grin faded slightly as he surveyed the duo; these were no simple refugees seeking their fortune in the ruins, nor a former occupant of the surrounding buildings returning to search for a family heirloom. Both men carried themselves as if they were trained soldiers, weapons sheathed on their frames. They were near the same height, one with blond hair and one with dark brown. Their garb was not the tattered rags of most of the citizens of Taras, instead being in good repair, and even more surprisingly, clean. They walked into the courtyard, their footsteps echoing off of the broken walls. The sorcerer contemplating allowing these two cretins to walk by his lair unmolested, not sure if their souls would be worth the effort expended to collect the black gems. Yet when he heard their murmured conversation all traces of hesitation vanished; these fools were hunting him. Apparently his new hobby had been noticed by the Taras Rebuilding Committee, and they had hired these sellswords to hunt down the threat stalking the streets.

How delightful.

He silently drew the summoning wand from the depths of his cloak, not rising from his perch. He saw no reason why he should engage the two himself; after all, they were probably hunting his demonic companion instead of the elf himself. He slowly traced the lines of his summoning sigil upon the cracked stones in front of him, the glowing lines of negative energy hidden from the pair of 'heroes' below. The demonic panther surged out of the floor, sniffing deeply as it returned to the plane of mortal men, but it did not make a single sound. Seele immediately wrapped his hand around the nape of the creature's neck, the cloak of darkness spreading from his fingers to wrap the panther in the shadows. He stared into the depths of the panther's eyes, the Although he could not speak with the fell creature telepathically, the connection provided by their contract was more than sufficient for Seele to direct the panther without audible commands. His eyes flickered towards the pair of warriors standing in front of the disfigured statue. The panther turned away from the elf, purring in the back of his throat.

Seele let the shadowy protection fade from the panther as it emerged from the depths of the opened building, watching its prey below with unblinking eyes. The demonic being pounced from the second story, landing almost silently on the rubble. a low growl emanated from the depths of its throat as it slowly stalked towards the pair, stealth abandoned. The feline was almost twice the size of a typical panther, with crimson eyes that glowed as if they were windows into the Abyss. Thick muscles moved underneath its thick obsidian pelt as it traipsed around the edge of the courtyard, its wide paws easily navigating the treacherous layer of debris. The panther bared its teeth at Kilad, black magic coursing through its fur as it summoned its own dark powers, sending a wave of pain to assault the tiefling's senses.

With their attention hopefully diverted, Seele raised one bony finger to point at the sellsword nearest to himself. The man appeared to barely beyond his teenage years, with windblown blonde hair. Negative energy jumped along the extended digit, forming an apple-sized orb of sizzling black energy. Black Bolt. The arcane projectile rocketed towards its target, crackling as it shot through the air.

((OOC: Demonic Panther cast Inflict Minor Wounds on Kilad. Seele cast Black Bolt (obviously) at Kalim. Just in case that wasn't clear.))
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Kalim
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(OOC: Bit of a weak post considering what's happening. Sorry, it's late. >.>)

He nodded at Kilad's reply. In truth, he agreed with the man. He just was so used to working alone that the suggestion was natural, but now that darkness was settling around them, the possibility of being ambushed had increased greatly. The two of them together meant that they would be better prepared to handle any unexpected danger. "Fine. Let's start searching, then." He stepped forward, meaning to leave the square behind and begin hunting through the broken alleys. His eyes caught sight of a dilapidated house, thinking that if their search failed they could use one of the buildings to wait through the night for the monster to show itself.

It seemed that the beast had found them, however. He noticed motion from the corner of his eye, and shouted a warning to Kilad as he turned to face whatever the thing was, that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. The mercenary took an instinctive step back as his eyes settled on the beast, a hand slowly reaching up for his sword. It appeared to be a panther, but its fur was pitch black, and red eyes glared out at them like twin gates of hell. His breath quickened as it bared it's teeth at them, exposing fangs sharp and powerful enough to tear a human being to pieces, just as the rumors had said. His longsword came free of its sheath with a slow rasp. He didn't know whether or not the creature posessed normal animal instincts, but he didn't want to take a risk, and everything he had ever heard said to avoid sudden movements when confronting dangerous beasts.

He had no time to react; all he saw was a blur accomapanied by a crackling noise before something slammed into him.

"AAAAGHHH!"

He vaguely thought the scream of pain belonged to him, but he wasn't certain as his body convulsed before he fellt to his knees, tears springing into his eyes. A leather-clad hand clutched his chest where he had been struck, but as he looked down, he could see no blood, and the flesh beneath his clothing felt normal. That projectile had been no arrow, and it hadn't come from the panther. Still kneeling, he turned his gaze up, trying to recall the angle it had flown from. The square offered no mentionable cover, but in the darkness, he knew that the unseen attacker could be anywhere. With his brain still dull with the pain, he ground the point of his sword into the ground and used it to lift himself up. He felt nauseous. He was used to being hurt, but he usually had time to brace for it. Coming out of nowhere like that, catching him completely by surprise, made it much worse.

Standing, he saw the frame of a two-story building before him, in the same direction that the attack had come from. It was only a guess, but it seemed the most plausible place for someone to lay in wait if they were planning an ambush. If he seen it earlier, he would have marked it himself for the same purpose. His eyes traveled to the panther, but he had no time to worry about Kilad. If he stood and fought the beast alongside the other man, they would be cut down with more of those bolts. He had to find and confront their other enemy. His feet carried him towards the ruin, every sense tuned for danger. That projectile had been magical, he was certain of it. The mercenary's teeth gritted in anger as he stepped through a pile of debris that had once been the building's door.

He hated mages.
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