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Mack the Knife [FIN]; Rin
Topic Started: Sat Jul 2, 2011 2:28 pm (1,834 Views)
Rin
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Rin's expression fell as Salla revealed she could not immediately share the memories with the girl. “Oh... Okay...” She did not recognize that her enthusiasm had intimidated the woman, too distracted by her disappointment. The strange sensation of being watched when they left the alchemist's tent was still bothering the girl, preying on her mind. What if the Red Lily Man had been in the crowd? What if he had been watching them, laughing at their blundering attempts to locate him? The mere possibility of such audacity rekindled her anger and disgust with the serial killer.

She listened as Schwartz as the man smiled warmly at her, agreeing that her plan was probably the best way to ensure the safety of their organization. As a large group they left the tent, remaining in the well-kept section of the refugee camp as they traveled to Rhea's dwelling. This tent had even more personal effects that Yurae's, making it difficult for all six of them to enter it at the same time. The woman, Salla, noticed this and kindly offered to stand outside of the entryway and stand guard instead of entering the tent. Rin glimpsed a sad expression on the woman's face and assumed that she had been close friends with Rhea. Just another travesty the Red lily Man would have to pay for. She examined the interior of the tent, blue eyes scanning the scattered objects. She also had a firepit and a bedroll, but a large desk took up much of the space in the room. A thick chest stood next to the sleeping area, and Ezekial immediately bent to work at its lock with his tools. One of their companions chuckled and whistled at the elf, tossing him an old key. The priest nodded his thanks and slipped the thieves tools back into the sleeves of his garment, effortlessly opening the chest.

The girl stepped up next to the desk as Ezekial shifted through the woman's belongings, quickly testing the single drawer on the furniture. It was open, but inside of the drawer was simply a stack of unused paper and several writing utensils. On the surface of the desk were several sheets of paper. She lifted up the top piece gingerly, quickly deciphering the written words. A smile crossed her face, but before she could share the discovery the elf stood up, cradling a spherical crystal in both hands. He detailed the spirits that had spoken with him, and Rin's eyes widened at the prospect of so many souls stuffed into such a tiny space. Wouldn't they be cramped...? The Grimoire snorted with amusement, leading the girl to keep this question to herself. The priest turned to her next, asking about the desk.

“There is not much. Some paper and tools for writing in a drawer. But also... a prescription from a Mr. Williamson.” She handed the sheet of paper to Schwartz, who scanned it quickly before passing the document to Ezekial. The man did not comment on the revelation of the doctor's name, but nor did he look surprised. “Now we know that all three of the women were patients of this man... We need to visit him quickly.” The rest of the items on the desk did no seem important. A small hand mirror was there, as well as a small makeup kit and several folded scarfs. The other sheets of paper seemed to be more information about magical remedies, similar to what they had found in Alia's small journal. “It has almost been an hour, Ezekial. We should return to the guards and share what we have learned before searching for Mr. Williamson.”
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Ezekial Smith
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The priest looked over the desk as Rin described it. He accepted a piece of paper given to him from Schwartz, and saw that it did hold the name of Mr. Williamson, just like all of the other women who had been killed. He looked at Schwartz, and noted that he although he did not comment, he was not surprised at that enlightenment. "Do you know who this is? Schwartz looked back at Ezekial, his face expressionless, and did not respond. Ezekial shook his head and looked to the desk, the papers on it. He put out a hand, and noted that Schwartz tensed up, holding his breath, as Ezekial put his hand closer to it. Curious, Ezekial picked it up and read it. It was only a number of simple potions, healing potions and anti-poison potions of a wide variety, even a few potions to restore a portion of a person's mana. He looked up at the girl's words, and nodded his head, saying, "Yes, we should. They will want to hear what happened, and they'll be able to lend a hand with Mr. Williamson if he attempts to refuse to aid us." He left the pages on the desk, putting the small pin in the pocket in his kimono sleeve.

The six of them left the tent, and trekked back through the streets, through the more expensive district, and back into the Slums, up to the rendezvous point where Rory and Callohan were waiting, talking easily. They noticed the four extra people following them, and put a hand on their swords, cautious of these people. Although Callohan was cautious because they were four strangers, Rory was cautious because he knew exactly what organization these people belonged to. Ezekial noticed this change in the demeanor of them, although they tried to mask it.

"You're late. More importantly, what did you find out about the three victims, and why did you bring these four along?" Ezekial was about to speak up when the woman wearing trousers interrupted, saying in a mocking tone of voice,

"What's wrong, Rory? A big, strong guard afraid of a few little strangers?" Rory frowned, and replied,

"You know exactly what's wrong, Rose. Why are you here?" Here Schwartz interrupted, saying,

"It appears that you are investigating the murder of three of our members. We will aid you where appropriate." Rory frowned. He didn't like this, but he supposed that he didn't much choice. Wait, did he just say that the three victims were part of their Organization? Rory's jaw dropped, and Callohan looked confused.

"What, what is it?" Rory was about to speak up when Ezekial interrupted him, saying,

"It's not important right now. Yes, Rhea, Yurea, and Alia were all part of his Organization. Furthermore, they all have a connection to a Mr. Williamson. I think that we should search him out." Rory agreed, and he told them to lead the way.
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Rin
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Rin noted Schwartz's panicked expression as Ezekial touched the sheaf of papers describing magical potions and mixtures. She did not react outwardly, but inwardly she sensed that something was wrong here. The man was keeping too much information from them for the girl to be comfortable. He obviously knew who Mr. Williamson was, but had not offered any additional information about the man. Suspicious... She waited until the members of the organization had turned to depart the tent before she grabbed the pages, stuffing them into her satchel as quickly as possible. She trailed the group outside of the tent, their path returning to the slums to rendezvous with the guards.

The guards had two very different reactions to the additional members of their group. Callohan seemed suspicious based on their presence alone, but Rory's fear was clearly founded in some prior interaction with the organization. This was confirmed within moments as the woman who had yet to speak greeted the guard by name, smiling cruelly at the jape. Rin's frown mirrored Rory's; any antagonism between members of the investigation would doubtlessly make their hunt for the Red Lily Man more difficult. Schwartz smoothly imposed himself between Rose and the guard, soothing tempers with a few calm words. Suspicion was still written across Rory's face, but he hesitantly agreed to the inclusion of the organization members.

The guards led the group through the refugee camp, no one attempting to breach the awkward silence with conversation. Rory and Rose continued to exchange bitter glares, their faces screwed up with the effort of pretending to be friendly. Callohan seemed much more at ease than his companion, but Rin noticed that he kept brushing his fingers against the pommel of his sword, reassuring himself that he was armed. Although the members of the organization carried no visible weapons, the girl suspected that each of them had methods of protecting themselves. Schwartz especially walked with an easy confidence that suggested that he was in no danger whatsoever despite the killer that was stalking his organization.

After a few minutes of awkwardly traipsing meandering through the sprawling slums they arrived at the healers tent. There was a large symbol sloppily painted on the entrance flaps of the tent, a sigil indicated the owner of the tent was a trained healer. Rin continued to stay in the rear of the group, observing the dynamics of the group as they entered the tent, Salla remaining outdoors in order to keep watch once more.





The Red Lily Man walked through the camp slowly, a smile curling his lips. He felt comfortable with his new abilites, comfortable enough that he had left his refuge in the middle of the day. The dagger was hidden up the sleath of his tunic in a cleaver sheath, its blade honed to a razor sharpness. Daemons walked the streets of the refugee camp, and he had been chosen to cull the wolves hidden among the sheep. Madness and malice shined in his eyes as he stalked through the camp, searching for the girl with the blonde hair who was his antithesis.
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Ezekial Smith
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The group of six moved quickly through the Slums area, shortly meeting up in front of a large tent, about the size of two tents of the size of Yurea's put side by side. On the door was a quickly painted simple, a white circle with a red cross within it. Ezekial recognized this symbol as being that of a healer, and it was likely put up instead of the more intricate winged scepter with two serpents coiling around it for simplicity's sake. Here, Salla remained outside to guard the tent, and Ezekial noticed that Rin was in the back of the group. Ezekial wondered the reason for this, and was snapped out of his thoughts by the voice of Mr. Williamson, who told them that he would be with them in a minute. This gave Ezekial a chance to lok around the tent. Along the walls were a number of cots for patients to lie on while they waited to be examined, and fortunately the "hospital" was vacant now with the exception of the patient that Mr. Williamson was examining. On the far side of the room was a curtained off area, the examination "room". There was a desk on the wall directly opposite from the door.

It did not take long for the patient to be dismissed, reminded to find out him if anything should change in the next few days, and the patient left the tent. The doctor exited the curtained off area, and said, "I do apologize for the wait. How can I help you?"

"It about three people, perhaps your patients, perhaps not. Their names were Alia, Rhea, and Yurea. What can you tell us about them?" The doctor lost his smile, fear flashing suddenly over his face when he heard those three names, but his smile returned quickly.

"They are only patients, guards, nothing more!" Rory frowned, realizing that from the fear in his face, the only thing that would make him talk would be the threat of imprisonment, and as of yet he had nothing to potentially charge him with. He had to leave this one alone. He was about to leave the tent when Schwartz spoke up.

"Williamson. You know who I am, do you not? You will tell these people of what happened." The doctor was deathly afraid now, unable to keep him smile he was so afraid.

"Alright, fine, fine. Those three approached me to do an experiment. I didn't want to do it, but they told me that they would kill me if I refused. You know what experiment it was, Schwartz. It was about him." The doctor was tight-lipped now, refusing to say anything more. Realizing that he had reached the doctor's limit, Schwartz thanked the good doctor, leaving the tent. Rory spoke up once they had left the tent, and said,

"The experiment he was speaking of is something the Organization tried long ago, to refashion the soldiers once made by a mad scientist who could feel no pain and had skin covered in thin shells. They were just barely human. The Organization stopped the experiments when they began to go rogue, killing their creator. I wonder, did these three die because of that experiment? In any case, the night will be coming rapidly, and we have yet to bring you to see the memory. Rory, Callohan, you won't be following us. Afterwards, our group will take you to our safehouse and in the morning we will continue to search for this man. I do not think that he will strike again, but it is better to be safe." The two guards took there leave here, going back to the guard tents, and leaving the six in front of the tent.
Edited by Ezekial Smith, Sun Jul 10, 2011 1:25 pm.
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Rin
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The inside of the tent was a curious sight. Almost all of the available space had been filled with cots for patients, with several more cots stacked in a corner of the tent. There were no patients currently within the structure, a fact that Rin was quite grateful for. The stench of the room was enough to make the girl nauseous, and she dreaded how it would smell if there were actual patients waiting for the healer's attention. She leaned over one of the empty cots, running a hand over the thick cotton weave of the bedspread. Several dark stains marred the fabric, suggesting that some of the patients that had waited here had been severely injured... That was the most pleasant explanation, in any case. She quickly straightened as the doctor's current charge exited the examination area, limping heavily. His leg had been set in a thick cast, although he was walking without the support of crutches. The man stared at the group suspiciously before hurried hobbling out of the tent, muttering an incoherent salutation.

Rin's attention was drawn back to the examination as the healer himself appeared, squinting at the newest visitors to his makeshift hospital. He was much younger than she had expected, no older than thirty, and decidedly human. Spectacles hung from a chain around his neck, although his vision did not appear to be poor enough to impede his work. He wore a simple white shirt and dark leggings, with a heavy leather apron over the ensemble to protect the clothes from his messy line of work. The doctor's face drained as Rory recited the names of the three women, glancing nervously at Schwartz. Rin stared at the organization member as well, but his face remained a blank mask. Eventually, with some pressure from Rory, the doctor relented, sharing his story.

The girl frowned at the revelation that these organization members had forced the healer to participate in an experiment. From the man's obvious nervousness and terror it was apparent he had not wished to be involved in such a dubious cause. The group left the healer's tent quickly afterward, rejoining Salla in the street. Schwartz began to speak attempting to fill the gaps in the doctors words. She gasped audibly as he revealed the purpose of the organization's experiments: to create soldiers who could not feel pain. The girl recollected one of the first things the Grimoire had told her after her creation, on the Debon Plains:

To feel pain is to be alive, Rinrae. Otherwise you would be an empty shell.

Although the pair continued to follow the members of the organization, Rin's stomach was twisted into knots. She leaned in closely to the priest, her whispered words barely louder than a breath. “I do not like these people, Ezekial. They seem very dangerous...” She chewed at her lower lip nervously, eying Scwartz's back. He still seemed incredibly calm and collected despite the terrible truths he had shared mere moments earlier. “Can we trust them to help us catch the Red Lily Man?”
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Ezekial Smith
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The group of six now moved to go to the tent compound, the four members of the organization that controlled the tents walking in front, and Rin and Ezekial in the back, keeping up their pace. Ezekial kept facing forward as Rin leaned towards him, his face expressionless as she mentioned her thoughts to him. "I do not like these people, Ezekial. They seem very dangerous. Can we trust them to help us catch the Red Lily Man?” These words were spoken so quietly that the old priest had to strain to hear it. Fortunately, this way the others at the front could not hear them speak, but it made it harder for Ezekial to understand the words. He agreed that the people were dangerous, but it was not as if they had much of a choice besides to go with them. The two had to solve the crime, which would bring them to this man who had been using a page, and these people had the memory of the person's appearance. Somehow, Ezekial felt that the three had stepped away from the orders of the Organization, although Schwartz had not said it explicitly. They could not trust them entirely, but they would have to rely upon them to get closer to solve this riddle that was the Red Lily Man.

"We don't have much of a choice but to use their assistance. We don't know what the Red Lily Man looks like, and these people are the best way for us to find out. I'm not entirely sure that the three were doing an Organization-sponsored experiment, but Schwartz seems to know about it. We'll have to ask him about it later, when we're alone." These words too were made in a low whisper, so that the four could not hear. Soon they reached the large tent compound, like a number of tents all bunched up together, with only a few entrances and exits. They were led by the four into the compound and past a number of closed off tents, apparently containing the sleeping quarters of members. The Organization compound was buzzing with the voices of people, and as the two newcomers passed, people stopped their conversations and stared, some putting a hand to the grip of their weapon as they did so. Their expressions ranged from nothing to curiosity to confusion to hostility. Fortunately, the latter was a fairly rare occurrence.

They moved into a large central area that served as the mess hall, filled with a large number of wooden tables, arranged in long rows. At the current time dinner had finished, and the few people that were sitting were playing simple card games, sharpening blades, or talking. At the far side of the mess hall was a man sitting alone, poring over a large tome. He wore glasses with small round lenses, and had his black hair tied back in a ponytail. His robes were brown, with white hems, and a hood hanging down the back. Hearing the six people going to him, he looked up from his book with a neutral expression and closed it, marking his place with a rectangle of thin leather. He stood, putting the book under his arm and said,

"And which of you requires the work of a mage such as myself today?"
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Rin
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Rin reluctantly nodded as the priest explained that even if the Organization members were not the most desirable bedfellows, they also had little enough information to go off of as it was. Furthermore, she knew that the memory contained within Salla's familiar was the best piece of evidence they had accrued in the investigation. Schwartz led the small group to the headquarters of their group silently, ducking under one of the few entrances. A large number of tents had been pushed together, their interior walls lifted to make a makeshift pavilion in the middle of the refugee camp. Guards stood at every entrance, their hands resting lightly on the pommel of their sheathed weapons. Rin did not doubt they were stationed there to protect the people inside from the Red Lily Man.

Conversations across the conglomerate tent hushed as the two outsiders traversed the interior of the pavilion, suspicious eyes scanning the pair warily. She heard several blades scrape from their scabbard before Schwartz raised both of his hands in a placating motion. Although Rin and Ezekial were allowed to remain in the Organization's headquarters, a few of the members till stared at them with open hostility as they moved into the central area obviously intended for meals. One man still remained in the cafeteria, poring over a thick tome that seemed almost comically large. He looked up as they approached, his face betraying no annoyance at being interrupted, and revealed himself as the one of the Organization's mages.

“Yes please!" Rin stepped to the foreground of the group, beaming at the mage. He seemed taken aback by her exuberant greeting, blinking rapidly through his wire-frame spectacles. “Salla has a familiar with a memory I need to see!” She turned towards the woman, who stepped forward and held out the small orb. Its feathery wings beat slowly, solitary eye blinking at the magician. He frowned, staring at Schwartz. Only after the man had nodded his head in silent permission did the mage step forward, tenderly placing the book down on the table.

“Very well, girl, although if the memory that interests you is what I suspect I do not envy you.” He asked Salla's permission before taking the familiar from her hands, carefully curling his fingers to avoid its soft wings. He laid his other hand on Rin's forehead, his palm pressed flush against her skin. ”The memory is... violent. Please do not lash out. Schwartz almost broke my nose when he first witnessed it.” Without further ado the mage closed his eyes, licking his lips as he began to mumble quietly. His words were in the arcane tongue, and they sounded like brittle ice cracking to the girl's ears.

Rin stiffened under his hand, her eyes going blank. The mage continued to speak for several minutes, serving as a channel between the familiar and the construct. When the memory had been completely shared he stepped away from the girl hastily, as if he feared she would not remember where she was. Rin blinked and shivered, clenching her fists tightly as she turned to the priest. “It... It was horrible Ezekial. And... I think I saw him before. By the alchemist's tent. He was watching us in the crowd...” Her face was a mask of horror, all of the joy and excitement drained from her by the haunting memory. “The Red Lily Man...”
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Ezekial Smith
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Ezekial watched as Rin stepped up, her excitement for such a traumatic procedure striking him as odd. The man set his tome down on the table and put his hand on the girl's head, the fingers separated between the middle and ring fingers. He put on other hand upon the small familiar with the fingers separated between the index and the middle, and the small and the ring fingers. He closed his eyes and began to speak under his breath the incantation to transfer a memory.

"Obey my commands, all ye gods,
sun burn strongly, moon shine brightly.
Muse of time, return here quickly,
shine each bright stone upon the rods.

Take it now, the mem'ry fleeting,
lest the dunes of sand consume it.
Place your gentle hand on all that fit,
this one's inner eye be viewing."


This incantation the neuromancer repeated for several minutes, the girl and the familiar both seizing up. When the spell had finished, the neuromancer stepped back, nervous, but was visibly relieved when the young girl recovered quickly. Ezekial was taken aback when she said that she had seen the man near the alchemist's tent, that he was in the crowd. He was angry with himself at being unable to sense the man's presence when he was so close. He took a step forward, and said,

"Show me this memory. If more people know his appearance, then it will be easier for him to be captured." The mage shrugged apologetically, and said,

"It is impossible. I cannot cast a spell of this magnitude more than three times a day. First I gave it to myself, then to Schwartz, and finally to this little girl. If you want to see it, I suggest that you wait until tomorrow." He nodded to Schwartz, and picked up his book from the table, and took his leave, presumably walking to his quarters to rest. Schwartz turned to them, and said,

"Now I too must take my leave. You cannot remain here, so I will have Lieutenant Vars accompany you five to the safehouse. Godspeed. He turned and walked away, and an eager looking man wearing a cloak over his body that went to his ankles stepped forward, and said,

"Hello, I am Vars. I will be taking you all to the safehouse. If you would follow me." He smiled, and it distracted them somewhat from the large scar that passed up his right cheek, passing through what used to be his eye, now an empty hole. He kept his hands under his cloak at all times, hiding his true weapons. As they left the tent complex, the people were visibly relaxed, and the people guarding, although they kept a hand on the handle of their weapons, did not draw them. They soon left the tent and entered the dark, cool night. Vars turned to them and said, "Alright, it gets very dark where we are going, so make sure that you stay close, or you might get lost. Let's go."
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Rin
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Rin and Ezekial were escorted from the pavilion after the memory transfer, Schwartz remaining behind as the other organization members led them from the tent. The girl was silent as they walked towards the safehouse, ignoring the innocent chatter of their entourage. Her thoughts dwelled on mysteries and riddles, the enigma of the Red Lily Man so distracting she was barely paying attention to their wanderings. Theit path led through the thickest and most downtrodden areas of the Slums, the tents growing smaller and more makeshift as they continued. Soon they had reached an area nearest the walls of the ruined city where the dwellings were traveling cloaks kept in place by sticks and pieces of rubble. Vars stopped, gesturing to one such tent. ”It's here. It doesn't look like much, but there's actually an opening into the city hidden on the wall. The safehouse looks like a ruin from the inside of Taras and a tent from the refugee camp... Plus it's well guarded.” A man peered out from the tent's opening, a wound crossbow held in his meaty fingers. ”Shall we enter...?”




The fools had walked through the cramped aisles of the Refugee Camp as if they owned the ground under feet. Such is the arrogance of daemons, boy. They are evil. The Red Lily Man had found the group easily as they left a large tent he already knew to be a hive of the disguised daemons. The girl was with them now, a delicious bonus to his bloody plans for the evening. The mere sight of the thin girl set his blood aflame, and he licked his lips at the thought of slashing her throat open with the hidden dagger. None of the daemons could escape the refugee camp. If they melted back into the labyrinth of Taras he would never be able to hunt them down and slay them once more. He stealthily followed their movements throughout the camp, reserving his new-found powers for the perfect moment of execution. They soon stopped at a tent indistinguishable from the rest, but the voices screamed as soon as they stopped to enter the dilapidated structure. No! Stop them! If they enter that tent they will escape you forever! The Red Lily Man hissed at the volume of the howl, but he still raised one hand towards the small group. The voice had never lied to him, never led him wrong. It was time to end this mummer's show.




Rin stiffened as she leaned down to enter the tent, her eyes going wide. Her awareness of the page had just skyrocketed exponentially, the air around her crackling with is power. “He is here!” The organization members started at the girl's outcry as she spun, hand shooting into her leather satchel. In a blink of an eye she held her longsword with both hands, blue eyes glaring back towards the endless rows of tents. The page's power washed over the group like a net, wrapping around their bodies with its strength. Rin staggered as the influence of the Grimoire's fragment pulsed through her veins. She could hear a voice suddenly, a soft sibilant hiss that pulsed in time with the page's energy.

Yes, fall asleep, go to sleep, drop to the earth, let us spill your red wet blood, sleep, sleep, SLEEP

She shook her head violently, calling her own Grimoire-given talents. She let the book's power run through her body, covering her flesh like a second skin. The mind-altering spell, unable to locate her presence due to the similarity of her presence, coursed around her body like water instead of causing her eyelids to grow heavy from its raging current. Rin reached out with one hand and gripped Ezekial's wrist as well, extending her protective aura over the elf so that the spell would fail to find purchase in his mind as well. The members of the organization were not so fortunate, their knees folding as they fell into a deep slumber. Rin ignored the thuds as their bodies fell to the ground, her bright eyes narrowed and glimmering with an intense focus.

Him.

The Red Lily Man stood exposed in the street, an open palm facing their group. He was no older than thirty and not an attractive man. His skin was splotchy and multicolored, and his the irises of his eyes were different colors, one a dark brown and the other an icy blue. Madness glittered in those eyes, madness and violence. He was fit, but there was a thickness about his frame and limbs that suggested he would succumb to obesity in his old age. His hair was black and thin, with several days worth of stubble darkening his jowls. His clothes were rags, dirt and other filth staining the worn fabric. The man stared at her and Ezekial with a combination of shock and terror, clearly not expecting their resistance to his influence. He turned and fled into the camp with an unexpected speed, tearing into the maze of tents and paths. Rin cried out and chased after the man without conferring with Ezekial, knowing that they would never get another chance like this. If the Red Lily Man escaped the duo he would disappear into the refugee camp to claim more victims.

She would never allow that to happen.
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Ezekial Smith
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At the entrance to the tent, Ezekial felt a wave of energy wash over him, pulling at his limbs like a riptide, and it took all of his strength to resist. He could feel it sapping the strength from his body, and he began to hear whispers and a single, sing-song voice came out loudly. Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee, all through the night. Guardian angels, God will lend thee, all through the night. Soft, the drowsy hours are creeping, hill and dale, in slumber sleeping. I my loving vigil keeping, all through the night. He knew the song well, for he had sung it to his daughter for her to fall the sleep, and the deep bass voice that sung it was his own. His lids became heavy and his mind clouded, and he became overcome with a terrible tiredness. Then, just as soon as the weakness had come, it suddenly vanished, and he could feel the hand of the girl, Rin, gripping his wrist, and his body surrounded by an aura of strength, to protect and strengthen. He felt fully awake now, and his limbs were filled with vigor, his mind sharp and clear. The other people were not nearly so lucky, and all fell to the ground, consumed by slumber's sweet embrace, with Lieutenant Vars being the last to fall. He threw aside the cloak, and bared his claws, so to speak, holding up one hand sheathed in colored lines of tattoos, and they began to dissipate into a cloud of energy coalescing around his fist. Before he could finish this attack, the enchantment defeated him, and he fell to the ground, the cloud of energy reverting to tattooed lines.

Now confident in his newly-found strength, the old priest put a hand on the handles of his swords to day, right under the handle of the katana, and the left curving under the handle of the wakizashi, the katana above the wakizashi. The Red Lily Man was nearing the age of thirty, and was certainly not attractive. His skin was splotchy, and varied in tones of flushed red, white, and jaundiced yellow. He wore rages, and his hair was matted and greasy. Seeing that his efforts did not work on these two people, and that he had lost the element of surprise, his face was contorted by fear. He ran away, sliding through the alleyways and corridors between the tents. Ezekial gave chase, noticing that Rin kept up pace with him. They moved quickly through the camp, following the man like a hound follows a fox. Eventually they came to a clearing near the city wall, with a gaping whole through it that showed that this was an abandoned part of the camp. The hole led deeper into Old Taras, and it was consumed in darkness. Ezekial knew that he had to stop the man now before he could escape, or he would never be able to bring justice to the Red Lily Man.

Then, just for a second, there was a loud voice, the female voice from the crystal, but he could tell that it echoed from the reaction of the Red Lily Man. "You, who have killed our mistress. We shall not allow you to escape. For you, it is time to die." The crystal in Ezekial's sleeve glowed with an eldritch light, the area filling with red light. The black hole was blocked now by aberrations and abominations, of shapes and forms unimaginable to the mind, and which seemed to defy possibility. From the rest stood alone a young girl, wearing a long black dress and a long black veil. Around her neck was a red choker, and she moved back her veil to show a face that seemed to exist of eternity. Her voice was that of the leader's of the spirits of the crystals, and she said, "I am the leader of the Failures. We were to become the perfect beings, but we had flaws in our being that lead to our death. I find it amusing that despite our demise we are able to avenge our executor. We will prevent him front escaping, so that you can kill him. Do not disappoint me, priest." The girl replaced her veil, and stood aside, and a breeze blew apart her body, although there was still a feeling that she was there, watching. Deathly serious now, he drew both swords, and spoke the command phrase for the Tengoku-to-Jigoku to sheath it in an incorporeal frost, and the Yawarakai-Te was covered in a holy white flame, coalesced from the fervor of its wielder. He knew that they would kill this man now, but he was not sure if they would be able to do so with out suffering injury.
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Rin
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The Red Lily Man skid to a halt, his mouth gaping open as the spirits surged into being. Finding his path effectively blocked, the man spun back to face his pursuers, his face twisted in a grimace of fear and malice. Rin stopped running as well, her longsword drawn and held near her waist with both hands. The blade of the sword was tilted so that it’s point was aimed directly at the killer’s heart. “This ends now.” The girl’s voice trembled with anger as she spoke, and she was about to pounce forward when the serial killer began to laugh.

”You think this is my end, daemon? No. I will kill you.” The man's voice was a rural drawl, the Common tongue accented almost to incoherence. The Red Lily Man twisted his hands imperceptibly, the hidden sheathes on his wrists releasing his weapons at the subtle movement. A dagger slid into each of his waiting hands. The blades had jagged, serrated edges that had been honed to a keen edge, dried blood crusting the metal. “You have clearly warped this elf’s mind you your will. But I will kill you, as if my duty, and free him from your vile sorceries.” With a righteous gleam in his mismatched eyes the Red lily Man began to advance on the duo, his lips curling back to reveal a feral smile of yellowed, crooked teeth. “I had hoped to avoid hurting the elf, but sacrifices sometimes must be made for the greater good…”

Rin watched as the killer approached, her eyes narrowed. He seemed to shimmer as he moved across the street, as if the light around him was being abnormally twisted. She blinked, and suddenly there were two of the man stalking towards them with identical expressions of manic delight. She took a step backwards, unsure of what trickery the serial killer was utilizing, but such a blatant use of the page’s power reverberated in her head like a gunshot. The girl staggered back as the blinding pain consumed her mind a heartbeat, just long enough to allow her opponent to reach striking distance. One of the Red lily Man copies lunged at the girl, both daggers flashing in the afternoon sun. The other doppelganger continued to advance on Ezekial, smiling eerily.

She barely managed to bring up her longsword in time, parrying the wild slashes. She had hoped that the duplicate serial killer was an illusion, but this was apparently not the case. The shock of the contact shuddered up the girl’s arms, and she was amazed at how strong the murderer was despite his unkempt and unhealthy appearance. The Red Lily Man dove forward, jabbing at her with one of the wicked daggers while the other one kept her own weapon occupied. She twisted out of the way of the dagger’s path, grimacing. Keeping her concentration was almost impossible while the page’s proximity pounded in her skull, sending fresh waves of agony resounding through her skull. The Red Lily Man seemed to sense her discomfort and smiled as he advanced, the serrated blades gleaming in his hands.

“I will destroy all the daemons. You are powerful, pretender, but none of your ilk can stand before me.”
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Ezekial Smith
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The Red Lily Man turned around, he face contorted in an apparently superficial mask of fear that began to show cracks of malice. The madman laughed, and began to speak in a rural drawl that made his words nearly incomprehensible. He made an oath to kill the young girl, and twisted his hands just barely, and a pair of dagger slid out into his hands. Their edges were serrated, with wickedly sharp points. The edge was, however, fouled by dried blood. He began to advance on the two, giving a madman's grin full of stained teeth. His image seemed to shimmer, and his form became that of two. The old priest was shocked at this change, and the previously disciplined stance he had adopted faltered, the the points of his swords dipped. He felt an overpowering aura nearby, and it set his teeth on edge, and made his head pound. The points of his blades dipped more, and he almost fell into the trap of the madman.

The two madmen diverged, and one lunged towards him, one dagger stabbed from the outside right, the other from the outside lift, both inwards. Reacting quickly, the old priest put the two blades near the center of the prong attack, edges out, and drew them out, both passing through the wrists of the attacker. The man's hands fell, still grasping the knives tightly, and the right stump was cauterized in divine flames, while the left was covered in a thin film of ice. The murderer looked shocked, an expression that soon vanished, and chuckled. He bent down and placed his stumps near the disembodied hands and muttered something under his breath. The old priest looked on, paralyzed by curiosity, as tendrils of magic were emitted from the stumps and entered the hands, pulling the two together. Once they had been pulled flush, the tendrils wrapped around the edges, and burned like embers. Once the glow had ended, the two were joined again, with only a pale scar to show that they had been apart. The serial killer chuckled, and wiggled his fingers to test them. He wielded his daggers once again, and fell into a fighting stance, grinning, and said, "Surprise, surprise. Looks like I can stitch myself back together. Oh, don't look so shocked, I'm not the same as the fuddy-duddy over there." It was true, this person had a different air about him, spoke with an entirely different accent, and had a posture that was more at ease.

"Alright, priest, since you have swords, I think I'll change these frog-stickers to a nice big sword. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the knives shimmered, replaced with a broadsword in his right hand that seemed to consume the light, made of dark metal. It was an evil sword, and in response the holy flames around the Yawarakai-Te began to glow more strongly. Ezekial gritted his teeth together, and the man held the sword loosely in his right hand, a cocky grin on his face.

"Don't be so confident. You're a hundred years too early to defeat me." The priest sheathed his wakizashi, and held his katana with both hands, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He placed his left foot forward, and his right to the back and turned to the side, and brought his sword up so that the guard was near his ear and the blade stood up, the hasso-no-kamae stance. He took a step forward and preformed a hidari kesa, a downward diagonal cut to the left, from this stance, brought the sword up just an inch, and turned it to preform a migi kesa, a downward diagonal cut to the right. He preformed this move, the makuri, moving from the two moves without pause and preforming it in less than a second, stepping forward to drive back the assaulter as he did so. The madman did not expect an attack like that, and stepped back, the tip of the blade only scoring his torso rather than cutting through it. He swung back with his cruel blade with a fierce slash from top right to lower left, a clumsy attack that Ezekial easily dodged.

The old priest stepped within the gap left by the swing and held the cross-guard of the blade down with his left hand, slamming the pommel of the Yawarakai-Te into the Red Lily Man's face with the right. The two separated, and the Red Lily Man groaned, and when he took a hand away from his bleeding nose, he was gritting his teeth, while the old priest was grim. The Red Lily Man flourished his sword in a wide arc, and brought the cross-guard to his ear, hunching slightly forward. His eyes burned with determination to win, a misguided goal that pleased Ezekial to see. The old elf fell into the hasso-no-kamae stance once again, and there was a pause before they went back to fighting.
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Rin
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Rin held the longsword with one hand, switching her other fingers to its pommel so she could wield the blade much more accurately. It still was not enough; she could barely keep up with the frenzied slashes of the serial killer. Every time their weapons clashed the echo seemed to pierce her skull like a lightning bolt, dulling her senses and slowing her reactions. The Red Lily Man seemed to sense her discomfort and dropped into a low crouch, slashing upwards with one of his cruel daggers. She slammed the longsword down hastily, sticking its tip into in the earth so it would not rebound from the force of his attack. With a confident grin the man threw his second dagger at the girl, an unexpected move that forced her to leap backwards with a muttered curse. She barely managed to raise her blade in time to deflect the thrown knife with the pommel of her sword, redirecting its path. It still nicked her shoulder, the jagged edge scoring a crooked gash along her pale skin.

The Red Lily Man let out a wild howl of victory at the sight of the spilled blood, mismatched eyes shining with malevolence. He twisted his hand, gesturing at the dagger he had just thrown. Sensing the danger too late, Rin jumped aside as the dagger suddenly came rocketing back towards the serial killer, its wicked blade cutting through the space she had occupied mere moments before. The dagger still managed to catch the flat of the longsword, and Rin gasped as the blade was torn from her grasp. The sword clattered to the ground as she turned the dodge into a two-handed cartwheel, leaping away from the Red Lily Man. He did not immediately pursue the girl, straightening and sneering at her with crooked teeth. "See, daemon? Your unholy power cannot withstand the justice of my path. I will split your pretty skin and taste your warm blood." He advanced on the girl, the daggers glinting in his hands. Rin's eyes blazed with anger, but she had no idea how to regain her weapon. The murderer stood between her and the lost weapon, and she doubted she could dart past him without getting injured.

Rinrae, you cannot die here. Use my power!

How?

You have my pages. You are made of my own essence; you will not be twisted and warped by utilizing its full strength like these other mortals. The truth of your existence allows you to utilize my pages to their full extent.


Rin reached into the ribbons on her left forearm, sliding out one of the glowing pages of the Grand Grimoire. The murderer's eyes widened at the sight, and he lunged forward at the girl with a frenzied shout, clearly recognizing the item she held. Rin barely noticed his attack; her eyes were locked on the page, its spidery script dissolving as the light intensified. She rolled the page up, holding it between her fingers as if was the hilt of a sword. The Grimoire's power pulsed through her thin frame, its power whispering in her ears like the sweetest melody.

"Excalibur."

Reality twisted betwixt her fingers as the page disappeared, transforming the very fabric of existence in accordance with the girl's spoken command. The hilt of the sword formed first, the grip carved out of pure ivory with crossguard crafted of hardened gold in the shape of two chimeras with rubies for eyes. Golden fire sparked from their open maws, coursing through the air to form the shape of a blade slightly longer than two feet. The Red Lily Man stopped his assault with wide eyes as the glowing blade sprang into being, the brilliant energy buzzing fiercely in the girl's grip. She smiled at the serial killer, her eyes bright and unencumbered. The holy energy of the sword flowed through her body, purging the contamination created by the murderer's defilement of the page's power. Her mind free and clear.

Words written in white fire burned along the length of the sizzling weapon, etching themselves in her mind. "Pick me up..." She spun the shortsword deftly, its blade humming as it cut through the air. "Cast me down." Without further ado she jumped at the man, the sword of light dancing in her hands as if she had been created to wield the legendary weapon.


Edited by Rin, Mon Jul 18, 2011 7:06 pm.
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Ezekial Smith
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The two fought in a whirling of steel, moonlight shining upon the blades. The madman was fast, slower than Ezekial, but fast enough to survive. Ezekial though with a disappointed sigh that this would become a "death by one-thousand cuts", a cruel torture that the old priest would rather not use. It was to be expected, though, the Red Lily Man was too slow to dodge the attacks completely, and too fast to be struck down in a small number of blows. Beyond that, it was of his nature to die a painful death. Even in the afterlife he would surely be forced to endure incredible pain for his sins in the material world. So they went through the fight, the old warrior priest using the man as if he were a target for tameshigiri, blade form practice. A futogiri, a strong cut moving downwards diagonally from the right, cut through his rags, but he jumped back so that it only left a shallow cut. An inazuma giri, composed of a downward diagonal cut to the right, an upwards diagonal cut to the left, and another downward diagonal cut to the right, all smoothly connected and done in a second, only left a shallow red line. Finally, he stopped the onslaught, and drew back, bringing the sword to above his head side of his head, with the point backwards, and blade facing to the sky. He brought the blade down hard, stepping forward as he did so to split the man in twain, to end the fight.

The man blocked it with his sword, an action that lead to a deep gash in the blade, although the Yawarakai-Te was unharmed. Ezekial wrenched away his sword, and sheathed it as the man threw away his now useless sword. Even if he had changed it back to the pair of knives their blades would be ruined. He would have to fight unarmed now. Ezekial saw this change, and adopted the triangular stance to fight the man. He attacked first with a strong knifehand chop with his right hand to the man's left side. It took both of the man's arms to stop the blow, but he did so, although it left him open for another attack. Ezekial grabbed the man's other arm and used it to pin the arms together as he struck. He brought he knee up and slammed it into the man's side, hitting the kidney. He pushed away the Red Lily Man and drew back, his hands slightly curled on themselves and up to protect his center of mass. The doppelganger was looking worse for wear, and began to falter and stumble. He looked up at the man and said in a weak voice, "I don't... want to... die. I-I'm afraid of death." He looked so pathetic now that the old priest was struck with pity of this man. He took a step forward until he was in front of the man.

"Rest in peace, madman. He put a hand on the handle of his sword and a moment passed. His sword was drawn and the point covered in blood. The man was cut open along the abdomen, and blood soaked his rags. He looked up, a confused look on his face, and fell to the ground. The old priest turned to the other pair of fighters, and saw that the girl had summoned a legendary blade, the Excalibur, also know as the Caledfwlch. It glowed with a brilliant light, and its blade seemed to be made of light. "How disappointing, Lily Man. I would have expected you to put up more of a fight. Your twin is dispatched, and you will soon follow. He stood back, allowing the girl Rin to fight him herself. Looking to the side, he saw the young girl with the red choker around her neck stand over the fallen man and pick him up by the scruff of his neck easily. She put a finger on his neck and drew it across, the skin split and the flesh tore down to his spine. The same punishment was inflicted on him posthumously as was done to his victims. She looked up at the old man and walked back to the wall, skipping as she did so. That action chilled the elven priest to the bone, a child who killed easily and without remorse.
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Rin
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Rin danced around the Red Lily Man as if the sword was an extension of her arm, never staying still for longer than a heartbeat. She jumped, twirled, and somersaulted around the man with a grace that only a master swordsman possessed. The shimmering blade darted around the serial killer in a storm of brilliant energy, the mythological weapon slashing at him from every direction. The man brought up one of his serrated daggers to block Excalibur's slash, only to have the energy weapon pass straight through the jagged metal. Rin's lips curled back in a small smile as the sword carved a gash through the rags of his shirt, digging into his chest. The murderer stumbled backwards, his hand going to the smoking wound. The flesh around the injury had been cauterized instantly from the intense heat of the weapon, leaving the edges of the cash black and cracked.

The Red Lily Man snarled and released both of his daggers, the blades floating in mid-air. “I will not be defeated by a daemon!” He thrust both hands forward, the daggers flying towards Rin's thin frame. She met the assault head-on, jumping towards the serial killer and spinning in mid-air. One dagger passed harmlessly beneath her legs, but the second managed to score a long line of bright blood along her left leg. Ignoring the injury, Rin landed on both feet and pounced at the murderer, thrusting forward with the legendary weapon with both hands. The The Red lily Man raised both hands in a futile attempt to stop the coruscating sword, but the shimmering bar of energy carved through his fingers as if they were thin parchment, sending digits scattering as she thrust the weapon into his chest, her momentum carrying both of them into the ground.

The serial killer gasped, his maimed hands attempting to push the shining blade out of his chest. His hands were unable to find any purchase on the energy weapon, simply burning into his hands. “I... I was the savior... You were the daemon...” He drew in a shuddering breath, blood bubbling in the corners of his mouth. When he coughed blood flecked his yellowed teeth and the girl's face in a grisly shower, but she did not even flinch. Her face was mere inches from the man's, and there was a jubilant expression of glee on her sculpted features that was quit disquieting, considering she had just butchered another sentient being.

“Wrong. You are evil. You used my page to hurt people.” Rin twisted the blade savagely, its searing edges effortlessly burning through skin, bones, and organs as she dragged the pommel from his chest to his naval. The Red Lily Man stiffened as his torso was opened, his blood evaporating from the intensity of the holy weapon, the sickly sweet odor of smoldering flesh filling the air. Her voice was laden with rage, her tongue stumbling over the words with the force of her anger.“I will... I will never forgive you.” The crossguard of the weapon was pressed flush with the man's chest, the entire length of the glowing sword pressed into his chest. She leaned forward so that her lips were next to the man's filthy ear, her next words a mere breath. “Die now.”

Rin stood slowly, pulling Excalibur out of the corpse. The serial killer's mismatched eyes were staring a the sky above, finally lacking the madness and malice that had consumed his life. The sword of light slid out of his body easily. Although she had opened him from sternum to naval there was no blood; his flesh had been cooked from the intense heat of the blade, wisps of smoke curling up from the blackened flesh. The girl turned to Ezekial with a completely blank expression, her eyes and mouth devoid of any trace of emotion. She walked to the priest without saying a word, leaning her forehead against the elf's chest in an exhausted manner. “Why... Why did he do it?” Hot tears sprang from her eyes as she pressed her face against the priest's faded clothes, silent sobs wracking her thin frame. “Why, Ezekial, why?”
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