Out of Character:
Two weeks ago...
"Damn it!" cursed a bruised Rayse, his hands clenching the dirt below him as sweat poured down his face.
"I haven't been waiting around for thousands of years just to crush an insect like you," said a casual voice.
Hovering in the air above rayse, a man named Stefan Tyray crossed his arms in disgust. With long, curled hair that reached down to his hips, a pair of sunglasses and a mean-looking stubble, this man was one of Rayse's targets in his last job at Salvar. Floating away, his long brown coat swaying in the breeze and his shiny oxford shoes landing on the ground in front of Rayse, he lamented not having an adequate challenge.
"You know, I was the one who gave that laundry list to Fatman. He knew what I'd do to him if he ever told anyone. Funny, he feared death from me a lot more you."
Rayse pulled himself up, clutching his side and grinning, "What's funnier is I don't give a damn."
Suddenly, he felt the air in his body violently escaping through his wounds and doubled over in pain.
"Hmph," sneered Stefan. "You got one more chance, weakling. I'll be waiting."
* * * * * * *
The present...
In the darkness of night, only one man could be seen on the cracked streets of Knife's Edge. With its former inhabitants long gone, the city seemed like a ghost town outside from the religious and military presence in the more prominent parts. With a cigarette in his mouth, Rayse kicked some rubble around to try to see if his place was intact. This entire residential district was totaled, so what used to be a line of small apartment buildings was now a bunch of rocks. Still, Rayse's apartment was downstairs, and Neil was a great landlord who kept good care of the place, so maybe...
He felt something sneak up on him and turned around quickly to see Teric Bloodrose approaching.
Shrugging, he turned back around and faced the Cathedral, "You don't have to sneak around, you know. Even the rats wouldn't be caught dead in this part of town anymore. Man, they really did a number on this place."
Knowing Dan and Neil, his former business associates, they likely fled to the countryside and would definitely come back to the city once all this nonsense is over with. Still, to think that all trade was virtually dead in this city was hard to fathom. It was chilly in Knife's Edge. Rayse couldn't feel the cold, but everything around him did. The long winter had taken its toll on the city's streets and structures, and the constant icy wind prevented any new life from flourishing. The city was known for its harsh winters, but this one seemed never-ending. It was only recently that Rayse learned the cause:
Denebriel. Not only responsible for the cold, but the entire war as well. She destroyed Rayse's business, his contacts, his damn house, everything. It was about time to get some good old-fashioned revenge. However, his plans didn't end there. The city was still his home, and after this war ends, he was gonna live here again. Rebuild his business, and base The Company out of these streets. Before he knew it, Caden Law had arrived.
"Great, the gang's all here. Let's get this party started, shall we?"
Caden tossed him a strange-looking compass that resembled a stopwatch. It was made out of glass with gunmetal black markers for direction, a candle glow indicating the holder's desired destiny. The idea of a 'desired destiny' was odd to him, but he didn't question the nature of magical devices. He faced a massive structure in the distance. Only its shadow could be made out of the darkness, but it was the Cathedral. Rayse had been there once before when he was captured during his last job here, but now he was going in willingly. The golden needle was pointing in the same direction he was facing, and it gave off a strange aura as he held it. Last time he tried using this, he transported himself and a chunk of forest half a mile forward in an instant. However, if he concentrated, he could determine exactly where to go. He felt that the compass could detect the presence of his enemies, and once he locked on, he let his fiery abilities take care of the rest. He took the cigarette out of his mouth with his free hand, blowing out a plume smoke and flicking it into the remains of his home.
Engulfing the trio in a massive orb of fire that wrapped around them in a circular area, they all disappeared in a flash. The next thing he knew, Rayse had exited the orb in a momentous fashion and landed on something soft. The fires disappeared, and The Contractor found himself on a bed. It seems he was in Denebriel's grand bedchambers, but there was no god in sight. Getting off the bed, he looked around the fancy room- adorned with a big chandelier, a large personal bathroom, and various rich tapestries all over the floor and walls. Rayse sincerely hoped that his desired destiny didn't involve Denebriel's bed. He checked his belongings, and it looked like the Damascus longsword strapped to his back was still there, as well as the pouches attached to his sides that contained Damascus throwing knives and mini-molotovs.
"See!" Rayse proclaimed proudly. "I told you guys that I wouldn't cause any injuries this time!"
Submit Thread for Judgment