Siege. (Open to 1)

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Lorenor found himself in a pile of trash. Quite literally. Somehow, the Salvarn Lord ended up back in Corone, his body smelling like sewage. A wicked migraine pulsed through his battered skull. Crawling out the pile of trash, the mutant took a moment to orient himself. Surroundings? A couple of back-alley buildings had a worn look to them. Smell from the garbage filled the air as the mutant gathered where he was. The street was completely unfamiliar to him. He'd been all over Radasanth in his tenure in Corone, but he hadn't been everywhere.

The Knights of Dawn were currently under the service of The Lord Draconus, of the Thaynehood. Initially, they were in the service of the All-Thayne but fell from their former grace with the construction of the Empire. Lorenor knew this because the Knights of Dawn were his mortal enemy.

Lorenor followed a deity also. The deity known as N'Jal. The forbidden Thayne, the forgotten soul. Lorenor thought of his deity as he walked out of the alleyway. Several homeless people eyed the Salvarn lord, but wouldn't dare to rob the monster. Devils were known to viciously scorn those who strayed into their path, lingering for longer than necessary. Lorenor felt as though too many goblets of brew hung in his system. Had he become an alcoholic? When did that happen?

Feeling the contents of his stomach churning, the mutant unloaded unto the floor. He saw the bloody mix of whatever he had eaten prior to his current situation. Limping softly, Lorenor could tell a few other things. The sun was setting, it was late afternoon. The temperature was fairly warm and the wind came in from the South-Southwest. Lorenor looked at the sky for a moment, clouds were setting in. He barely see the tops of buildings making up Radasanth's skyline. He was in a district he hadn't spent much time in.

The Slums. Several crowds of people walked around their daily business paying the visitor no mind. It had been years since the mutant last returned to Corone. He needed something to do. Moving forward, the mutant saw the large cathedral-like structure of The Citadel well within walking distance. He could make it in a an hour's time. Checking for all of his equipment and what little gold he had left, the mutant saw that everything was intact. He couldn't have been in that alleyway for very long.

Pieces of garbage and debris hung on his fine noble's clothing. He cleaned it off himself as he spotted everything, rubbing his boots against the cobblestone floor. Someone came up against his sensory array. The mutant's hand went to the hilt of one of his weapons. A sword. Lorenor began to pull the weapon prepared to fend off potential bounty hunters, or other swine.

"Hold. I mean thee no harm!"

An energy flowed from the owner of the voice. The energy seemed to dance against the air itself. Lorenor knew. He's a Monk... Lorenor sheathed his weapon quickly understanding that he would have little chance against a fully trained Monk. Even with his current skill level. Lorenor turned towards the man and saw a young lad in his late twenties. Keeping his wits about himself, the mutant eyed his surrounds, carefully making sure that the guards weren't gunning for him. None of the guards seemed interested in the Salvarn Lord...at least not yet.

"And what doth thou want?" Lorenor asked, having let the brief introduction hang in the air between them. The monk wore the attire of a novice, and whatever weapons were on his person seemed largely concealed.
Either by magics or other means. The man had a long braided ponytail that ended at his lower back, and stood with his back straight, chin up. He had light complexion of skin, and fair colored brown eyes. His eyebrows were trimmed. Markings were present on his forehead, and the man had a visible locket containing markings of the Order.

"Art thou the Lord Lorenor by chance?" The man asked.

Lorenor hesitated for a moment. Again, he pondered drawing blades. Again, he stopped himself. "Aye. I am he. What doth thou want I sayeth again." There was impatience in the mutant's voice. He was already searching for escape routes, he'd been in one spot for an uncomfortable amount of time. "The Monks art searching for warriors. We art needing to prepareth forces to siege against the Knights of Dawn. They outnumber us. We needeth capable leaders..."

Another series of scents. These scents carried blood with them. Lorenor cursed, he had stayed in one place too long. Searching around the gathered crowd, people started staring at the monk and the Salvarn Lord. Lorenor took a step backwards. They were all in a plaza now, just a few yards away from The Citadel. The monk was cursing in tongues as he observed the mutant's actions. He turned to see several soldiers belonging to the Knighs of Dawn approaching. Lorenor's heart sank. Was this a set-up? The mutant did not hesitate in drawing a prevalida sword this time. The cold metal shone brightly, reflecting sunlight. Lorenor was suddenly placed in a bad position with few options at hand.

(Note: This is a real battle. Your character will arrive with the situation as described. Several soldiers belonging to the Knights of Dawn are approaching Lorenor and the Monk. A fight will likely break out. You can have your character intervene in whatever fashion you want.)

[Death's Nephew]

The froth of the young man's ale slowly swirled in his worn mug. The dim lighting did nothing to make the drink anymore appealing, but you get what you pay for. He shrugged his thoughts away and listened intently to the conversations around his empty, scarred table.

As per usual, the small tavern was busy with people trying to forget about their worries beyond the doorway. Talk of treasure, targets, bounties, and even a few good steak recipes floated through the air like the dust that hovered in the rays of light that did sneak through the cracks in the walls. All the words meshed into one big noise and Tommy closed his dark eyes, trying to remember the days gone by, the days when the only noise he heard was the music of people screaming in blinding agony. How they'd beg for death a second time, only to be told that this was an eternal pain that would outlast the existence of the world.

He missed the Underworld.

Being a child of a demon had given him the perks of getting to do whatever he wanted to the worthless souls that passed through his little section of hell. Anyone that was deemed below the standards of angels got to take the scenic route by his place. Life had been good times.

Now he had to abide by rules when killing people (depending on where he was of course), even if they were really bad people. Especially in Corone. The civil unrest had stirred up many local authorities to start enforcing every section of laws they had. Even the silly ones.

Still don't see why killing a murderer for murdering the thief who stole my pocket watch that I stole from a traveling merchant with five wives....he'd still have six if she hadn't tried to steal one of my daggers.

The door opened, flooding light in for a brief moment which caused everyone to squint and examine the new guy. Tommy broke away from his train of thought for a moment and took notice that the man was holding a small stack of fresh paper. He took a nail and slammed it through a paper onto the wall.

"Want money you bums? Take a look at this." He bellowed at the sea of drunken, angry eyes. He turned on his heel and exited quickly, knowing staying too long would press his luck in the bravado area.

I get to kill the people who steal from me. Not some asshole psychopath. He thought sourly as he polished off his ale and pushed past the growing crowd around the flier.

"Ohhh, 750 gold to catch this one!"

"I could use me some money!"

"Wanted dead or alive!"

The men were chattering so much, the half-specter hardly even needed to look at the information on the paper. He ignored the stale smell of sweat and the much more potent aroma of pits and ass as he leaned in closer over the crowd to get the name and picture of the wanted man.

"Lorenor V'halkulus..." he said softly. He quickly memorized the man's hand drawn visage and exited swiftly.

I don't even care about the money. I can kill someone without getting hounded. Wonder what he did? Oh well, I'll know as soon as I see him.

The bright day outside hurt his eyes for more than just a moment; he even felt exposed like a limping animal in the middle of a field. He had to get to the shadows as soon as possible. Darkness was his closest ally. His wise sage in moment of utter confusion. His dirty little mistress.

And oh was she naughty.

Taking a moment to enjoy his new alley filled with trash and vagrants, he let the shadows bathe over his skin, wrap its hands around his body, and just caress every inch of his soul. His eyes were closed in utter happiness when a clanking of armor and the words of a man swam into his ears.

"This way men! Move faster!"

A group of heavily armed men jogged in formation down the street, across the way from his home away from home. They were speaking of his target, but they looked just like the bastards who had given him trouble for killing the killer of his thief. He narrowed his eyes in a slowly growing anger and quickly shadowed the group, waiting to see if they would really take him to Lorenor and give him an opportunity to get even.

Screw their rules. If somebody needs to die, then somebody clearly needs to fuckin' die.

It was long before they had man out in front of the Citadel, inching closer to him with every second. Tommy leaned against the fat, old tree that gave him a light shady umbrella to hide in, watching closely.

When the man drew a blade made from a very expensive looking metal, Tommy knew which side was going to have more fun. Why kill a single man when you can rain anarchy onto the establishment that is stomping all over your fun? Always the lover of close combat, he drew his steel dagger in his left hand and kept it handle side up with the blade tucked closely against his inner wrist.

"Hey boys! Is that our man?! Mr. Lorenor SomethingorAnother?" He said with a friendly smile.

"And who are you, civilian?" An important looking officer said.

"A bounty hunter." Tommy replied coldly. "Want me the nice reward of 750 gold shiny circles."

"Well stay out of this. We've got it from here." He turned his gaze away from Tommy as did the rest of his group.

"Oh,well then..." Tommy said with a sad voice. He gripped his blade tightly, silently unsheathed his second plynt dagger and walked up behind two much lower level, drastically less armored law enforcers. In one fluid motion, he shoved the steel dagger into one man's back, severing his spine and sliced open the other man's throat.

"...Guess I'll settle for a consolation prize then." He said with his wicked grin.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Blood.

Lorenor immediately turned towards the general directly of the scent.

Sanguine substance spilled into the air and landed firmly on the pavement, staining it. A corpse fell upon the ground, killed by a stranger. Gasps filled the crowd as eyes turned on the situation at hand. Gathered individuals turned on the events unfolding before them. Eyes of many different sizes spied the situation at hand. It took a moment to settle in, but once the situation was gauged it was quickly realized that a Radasanthian guard had fallen. Armor depicting the symbols of the Knights of Dawn reflected the cold sunlight.

"He's a killer!" Someone saw the man standing behind the fallen warrior. Another person saw Lorenor standing with his sword drawn. "There's an accomplice!"

"Call the guards!"

Panic quickly spread through the crowd, and the crowd turned into a mob. Cadets and other warriors from the Knights of Dawn focused on panic control, attempting to calm the crowd. Words were exchanged between the gathered warriors and the civilians. Tensions increased as the afternoon wore on. A nearby guard spotted Lorenor's position.

"It's him! The one we're after!"

Not bothering to investigate the true cause of their fellow's murder, the soldier began to make his way towards Lorenor's position. The mutant was already attempting to flee the scene. "Don't let him get away!" The guards completely ignored Tommy and made their way to the mutant's position who imminently prepared for combat. At this point, the crowd, further enticed, began to react to the ensuing violence. "The guards art attacking!"

"Who art they attacking?"

"That lad over there!"

"He's no native!"

And so, the first exchange of combat began. A single fist from one of the commoners connected with a cadet's face. The man grunted and drew his weapon upon the attacker. Before orders could be exchanged, the siege began. The cadet cursed angrily and quickly decapitated the civilian. A single head rolled upon itself through the air and landed with a sickening thud upon the ground. Civil War broke out on Radasanthian streets once again.

"Blades to arms!"

"Gather your wits about you men!"

Cries came from both sides. Battle cries of various sorts. Lorenor reacted quickly by ducking a sword strike that came his way. He managed to make his way into the gathered throng. He was attempting to escape, pursuers hot on his tail. Lorenor was wishing that he was back in Salvar. He quickly attempted to push some people out of his way. They obliged to his quick movements. He forced his way through the crowd, trying to show his combat finesse. As he made his way through one section of the crowd, he thought he was home free. But to his panic, he saw that several guards were waiting for him with weapons drawn.

"Halt! We have thee surrounded!"

"To the pyre with thee!" And the mutant prepared himself for imminent combat.

[Death's Nephew]

Screaming. Curses. Battle cries of the oppressed.

It was like a symphony of delight to Tommy's ears.

As the guards quickly moved to quell the riot before it became a full blown battlefield, they moved in on their target, completely uninterested in the young man with snow white hair who had just taken down two low skilled knights. They had him from all sides, the man with the bounty on his head, and escape was not an option.

At least not at the moment.

Acting quickly, Tommy sheathed his weapons, scooped up a steel halberd one of the guards had dropped and ran through the growing mass of civilians fighting against their country. Like a ghost, he slipped by the angry men smoothly, weapon tucked tightly behind his back. He wasn't an expert or even very well versed in halberd tactics (although his uncle had gotten him a book called Spears, Halberds, Lances and You: How to Get That Pointy End Into Anyone in No Time at All!, he had hardly even gotten past the first few pages), but he had some experience skewering damned souls and cutting Achilles tendons. And that's exactly what he started doing.

He came up to his first guard, fighting off three angry men who charged recklessly as brawlers do, and decided to even the playing field. He brought the halberd around quickly over his shoulder and in a few awkward slices, cut clean through the back the of the man's tendon. His scream of anger and agony almost appalled the men he'd being engaged with, but they cheered a battle cry and began beating him with their fists and tearing off his armor and using the helmet and shield as blunt weapons. Tommy left the four to their dance of death and moved onto another group.

Within a few minutes he had crippled five men and given some of the civilians weapons and makeshift armor to riot with; a tear came to his eye. He was so proud of his angry mob.

How could Tommy be so lenient on people who openly apposed a government without having known the politics before hand? His simple, nearly passive ability of Judgement. Being a relative of Death had given the young man the sight into creatures, human or otherwise. He could see their soul, if they were noble, evil, or somewhere in between. Most of the civilians fell into the gray area as where all the guards he had crippled were soaking wet in evil deeds. He had left the other guards who were just following orders alone.

Tommy wasn't a bad person, nor was he a good one. He just had a perverted hobby of killing assholes. He performed justice and got his hands bloody. Win-win situation by his standards.

But the low level guards had been to easy. He wanted a challenge. Shoving his halberd into the hands of a man throwing stones (who quickly charged into the back of a mid-level guard, basically tearing the knight nearly in half as he clumsily tried to pull the blade back out), he drew the plynt dagger. He had chosen this dagger for a reason beyond its simple tier superiority.

The dagger often gave interesting advice and encouragement.

Oh, brought me back out huh? Done being a little bitch?

Tommy grinned as he passed Judgement on the men surrounding his target, the original target. Mostly bad, sprinkled with middle men. If that many guards were going to try and take down one man, then this one man clearly was going to be a fun fight.

Oh oh! Look at you now! Think you're gonna get past all those guys?! Hahaha, you stupid dumbass.

The blade had a point. A sharp minded individual, he was still unsure of what or who was inside the weapon, but it had a way of being blunt. He'd need some kind of opening...some kind of distraction. Maybe throw a dead body into the men?

Right, so they can just move around it? Next idea moron!

Attack from behind?

Wrong again! Too many to do that! Why did I have to get stuck with you?

The sun beat down on all the men fiercely. The light was reflecting so brightly it almost hurt Tommy's eyes to even look at it sideways, but sight was everything in a battle. The ability to keep your focus on your enemy was key to-

Oh...I know. He thought with a grin as the mob around him grew and grew slowly.

Hahaha....maybe you're not so useless after all. Let's get to killin'.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Chaos exploded around the mutant. I am the center of the world. The center of the world am I. Lorenor had a chance thought that made the mutant momentarily at ease with the situation at hand. He stared at the enforcers before him, blades and all manners of cutlery devices drawn with the intend of prematurely ending his life. Lorenor would have none of this.

The materials of their weapons ranged from plynt, to damascus and beyond depending on the rank of the officers. There were five in total. The mutant hated needless bloodshed, it drew too much attention to one's self. As a trained Assassin, Lorenor had grown to accept a lifestyle of finesse and style. It was this lifestyle that Lorenor lead now, serving St. Denebriel as a patron goddess and in the shadows, secretly following the will of N'Jal. Lorenor's aura was dark indeed. Energy clinging to his person creating a fearsome sight to behold. Short and powerful, the mutant was full of surprises.

Quickly considering the situation at hand, Lorenor new he was vastly outnumbered. But he would be a goat's childer before he accepted defeat. He stared into the eyes of his opponents, reading them carefully. Sweat clung to their brow, fear hung in the air. Whispers of chaos barely audible to the mutant as various stains of gore and vitae filled splattered across the stone floor. With prevalida sword in his hand, the mutant prepared to do what was necessary. He prepared to kill. Many were already dancing in the glorious waltz of death.

A soldier broke the uncomfortable silence between plunderer and would-be victim with a battle cry. "For the Empire!" Lorenor cringed as he heard that call. With little hesitation thanks to many moons of training, Lorenor reacted to the incoming attacks. Several volleys of arrows were launched in the mutant's general direction. Lorenor frowned deeply and rolled quickly to the side, sword still in hand. Heavy footsteps cursed as arrows hit their persons, victims of friendly fire considering the close-proximity. Several arrowheads barely clipped Lorenor's person.

Possessed of advanced senses, Lorenor saw the warrior come up behind him before he heard him. It was more like a sensation of feeling rather than of sight. Lorenor could taste the sweat on his tongue, and feel hues of blue fear, shocking ice, electricity all around. The mutant had a full five seconds to react to the incoming attacker. He quickly swiveled on his heels and turned, bringing his sword to bare. There was the loud clang of metal on metal, creating a particular explosion of light. Lorenor saw electricity and heat flowing from the two blades as they interconnected to one another, tongues suckling themselves. Lorenor stared right at his opponents eyes who was a head taller than him. And so, the real battle began as people died all around him.

[Death's Nephew]

A man's arm fell right at his feet, still slightly twitching at the finger tips. Blood oozed slowly from the limb and began to outline his boots, following the edge carefully, methodically.

Tommy didn't care, he was busy concentrating on the shadows that lay beyond the doors of the Citadel, calling to the darkness within the rooms, whispering sweet nothings into its malicious little ear. They began to shift from the places within the walls of the great building. They were moving to the young man, heeding his call of lust.

Within seconds deep, dark shadows had collected outside in the bright sunny day. In the open it seemed like a void had appeared out of thin air, yet it was almost so natural no one noticed. Besides, how much time do you really have to say, "Hey look at that!" when someone is trying to cut your head off with a big ass sword?

The only ones who were going to notice were the soldiers and Lorenor.

Tommy had in a sense created an area of total, rich nothing. A twenty-five foot radius space of home. Sweet, light barren home. From all sides, vertically and horizontally, this was twenty-feet of pure familiar territory. The only drawback was that the enemy was still able to run out of this zone, but there was enough time to cause some serious havoc before they realized what was happening.

Slipping into the darkness, he switched his vision to see as clearly as anyone saw in the day. A grin came across his face as he saw the soldiers confused, swiping wildly around them, calling out names. One young man caught his superior right in the throat with his long sword. When one of the men barked orders quickly, Tommy knew this would be a problem. He rushed at the men and shoulder slammed a younger one into his captain. The cry of surprise brought panic to the other two and they quickly became tense, brandishing their weapons at the shadows. They all seemed so confused and scared, except for one.

It was no surprise to him that his target was looking calm, as if he could see just as much as Tommy could.

Leaning in between the two soldiers, he issued a sinister chuckle and quickly ducked as both men swiped neck and shoulder level. They fell to the ground, holding their respective wounds in pain and fear. One was losing blood from the neck while the other's shoulder had almost lost an arm (it was hanging out by a few shreds of skin).

These guys must hit pretty hard...

Making a note of that, he turned his gaze on Lorenor. He knew in his heart of hearts that this short thing with the incredibly dark aura was going to be a challenge. May even kill him. But that was a short price to pay for an amazing amount of fun.

Drawing both daggers quickly, he rushed at him, testing his opponents sword skill. With two quick swipes, he aimed for its eyes and mid-abdomen, loving the sound of the air being cut simultaneously by both weapons.

Hahaha yesss! Yesss!!!! Let the blood spill! Show no mercy to these evil creatures of Althanas!!!

[Mutant_Lorenor]

At the same time...

A sudden darkness overwhelmed a good twenty foot radius all around the chosen combat arena. Cries of panic in the dark. Curses in various tongues native to Corone. Lorenor's main priority was still pulling the depth escape act when the shadows overwhelmed the area so completely. With a sly grin to the mutant's face, the shadows enveloped him and his powers waned. A burst of dark energy flowed from the vessel of the creature, signaling his full strength thanks to the powers of the dark. With the sun effectively blacked out, Lorenor's powers returned to their peak capacity.

A dark purple aura flowed with saturated energy. The mutant's confidence returned. He saw confusion befall his opponent's face even in the pitch blackness. The mutant switched over to his natural heat-vision to keep a close eye on the activity of all of the combatants around him. There were literally scores of individuals within the pitch-black combat arena. Lorenor went completely quiet and stepped backwards, pushing his weight down on the man's confused sword.

His opponent started to look around as if lost in the darkness. The man's eyes narrowed as he attempted to see into the umbra.

Lorenor could hear voices within the shadows that were unfamiliar to him. It felt almost as if for a moment, another dimension had connected alongside Althanas herself. Another dimension, with infinite possibilities to explore. Lorenor longed for the secrets that the shadows possessed within them. Whispers passed through the darkness as Lorenor observed his potential victim, glowing amethyst eyes burning in the black. Lorenor took a moment to catch his breath. He swung his weapon towards the chest of the warrior before him, and turned slightly to intercept another incoming attack.

Mistaking the incoming warrior for a member of the Knights of Dawn, the mutant prepared to engage the interloper. He felt the attack coming long before the other warrior could land it. Using superior training, the mutant turned his momentum and force against the body before him. He guided the knight directly in front of Tommy's line of sight. He screamed loudly in agony as Lorenor pulled his prevalida against the weight of the attack the soldier sent his way. It was enough to push the man directly in front of Tommy's position. Lorenor removed the weapon from the body of the knight. More blood spilled into the dark, feeding the living beast.

Lorenor took a couple of more steps backs as the Knights attempted to locate the mutant. He saw that the interloper (Tommy) finished the job with the knight. Lorenor had exactly a split second to decide what he was going to do. Grinning at Tommy, the mutant made his choice.

He ran towards the Knights hoping to buy himself an exit in the darkness.

[Death's Nephew]

Getting away! It's getting away damnit!!!

The voice screamed in Tommy's head angrily, over and over, as if he hadn't seen the target throw a soldier into his blades and take off slyly. Looking at the now dying man on the ground, Tommy saw he wasn't completely evil. The soldier must've been there on orders and had not expected to be cut down by a random man with a fetish for gore.

The problems with being in a war. You tend to die.

The darkness held and Tommy was unsure how long it would. This was a fairly new ability of his and he'd never tested it out in broad daylight. He was surprised it held so firmly even with his nemesis burning high in the sky.

GO! GO! GO! GO!

Tommy snapped out of his thoughts and locked onto his short little man-thing. He brushed aside a small strand of his snow white hair and narrowed his eyes as he studied the ever so graceful movements it performed. You'd think he was nothing more than smoke being pushed around trees by a soft breeze. He'd only seen such a style of acrobatics once before.

From assassins.

A grin spread on his face as saliva began to fill his mouth. "Have fun boys..." Tommy whispered into the darkness as he saw the men on the backs or bellies, holding their respective wounds in blinding agony.

With the power of the small ring on his finger, he focused on the power of speed. The feeling of the wind in his hair. How he'd catch up to his prey. Shadow Stalk coursed through his body like adrenaline, giving him doubled speed for the next thirty seconds. Hopefully he wouldn't need the full time to at least land a blow on this amazingly gifted shrimp of a man.

He sprang like a cougar, shoving men of both alliances out of his way. The blade in his hand screamed with a bloodlust that rivaled Tommy's; maybe they'd be best of friends after all. Maybe.

In ten seconds Tommy had closed the gap between the two. Clangs of steel, the cries of men, the heat that came from the open bodies that began to litter the ground all coursed around the pair. The dagger was almost giggling with pleasure. "No need to run, Mr. Lorenor. I only need to see if you're really worth 750 gold coins." Tommy said as he eyed the opponent.

Fifteen seconds.

He sprang. Holding one dagger out, he moved to shove the blade under the ribcage to pierce the lungs. His plynt dagger was held with the blade pressed against his inner wrist. A bit more of a defensive stance, he used it to probe. He slashed shallowly to serve as a small distraction, aiming for the face.

Let's see what you're made of... Tommy thought as men all around him were having their lives tested as well.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Times are tough. This one is an assassin huh? Lorenor heard the boy's rambling. That damned price on my head! Lorenor knew that times were hard even as the warrior burst upon him like some twisted cheetah. All round the mutant and on the footsteps of the Citadel, the civil war was waged once more. In the cocoon of darkness, brother fought brother, and madness reigned supreme. Outside of the twenty foot radial sphere of darkness, all was as normal as things could be on Althanas. Escapees from the battle fled the scene and made their ways to return to their loved ones.

Others moved towards the guards in order to explain what had happened. Still others fled to The Citadel. Some sought refuge in nearby cathedrals and church buildings dedicated to the harvest deities of old. These were slowly being snuffed out by the presence of the Thaynehood's cathedral. Lorenor counted the seconds off as the warrior sprung to the attack. He's not going to let me go. Foolish. Lorenor's enhanced reaction time assured that he was capable of action if he so chose. There was one major possibility that he could undergo to secure the fate of the battle.

A green blade shone in the darkness, Lorenor accurately identified the material as plynt. The mutant simply stood in place whilst his opponent grossly miscalculated the playing field. With the speed of a single thought, the mutant saw that the man's blade was aimed directly for his lungs. He stood there, at an angle and prepared for the incoming assault. Fueled by the dark, Lorenor's symbiotic armor reacted within the time period of a few microseconds. It quickly embraced the mutant, becoming as a living shroud of darkness.

Lorenor felt the familiar sensation of his endless unleashed. The boy's dagger came crashing against his form, a skilled strike. Any other warrior would have fallen by such an attack, but not Lorenor. Lorenor simply stared with that same twisted smile, that same mischievous face. Full of secrets, full of confidence in his ability. Lorenor held one of his prevalida swords in his hand, gripping it tightly. The masterwork quality of the weapon made it a sight to behold. The mutant preferred masterwork quality only! He spent a solid gold piece on upgrading all his equipment.

When the cocky bastard's dagger came well within range, Lorenor sprung to the attack. The impact of Tommy's attack was tremendous. A bruise developed where any other time a fatality would have occurred. Pain was registered but the mutant hid it well by now. With the man's arms fully extended outwards in the slashing motion, Lorenor swung underneath. He moved so that the side of his weapon faced upwards. The mutant aimed to completely sever Tommy's arm in one swift moment.

"Thou art a brave and handsome boy mi'lord. But alas, I hath no time to play with uneducated children who knoweth not the ways of the world. Thou hast bitten more than thou canst cheweth! Thou should have thoughtest twice before taking that bounty!" Lorenor mused out loud as he waited to see the results of his counter-strike.

[Death's Nephew]

As Tommy's blade was just within its impact, he saw the movement from the shorter man's blade from the corner of his eye. It would seem that this was less of a chase and more of a lure. He'd planted himself here for Tommy, but how he was able to accurately predict his movement speed and timing was quite astonishing. The price on his head didn't do the odd man justice.

The only luck he had on his side was the short time he had left with Shadow Stalk. As the dagger slammed against a shadowy armor and bounced backward, Tommy reverted the momentum of his steel dagger and twisted his body like a viper. The recoil that gravity had on his was...underestimated to say the least.

His steel dagger arched downward awkwardly, hoping to deflect the sword, even just single bit. As the same time, he twisted almost 180 degrees away from his target. The doubled speed had come in handy, allowing him to miss losing his arm, but he was still cut since the slightly deflected sword now sliced along his right arm, rendering it almost useless.

The dagger clattered to the ground, signaling the end of his ability as well. As blood dripping steadily down his limp limb, he chuckled painfully as the man spoke in some old style tongue. He listened with impatience, but knew the words were true. Even as the riot was losing its grandeur, Tommy could feel this fight had been the quickest he'd ever been in. A grin spread across his face and he sheathed his plynt dagger, much to its aggressive protest.

"You got a point there man," Tommy said as he winced. "No hard feelings, I just wanted to see if you were worth the bounty they offered."

Which was true since the beginning. He knew this man deserved to die, he'd done horrible, inexcusable things; things that probably made Tommy shudder at...but killing him wasn't an option. Not alone.

He put his still working left hand up in a gesture of good faith. "I give up. Not beating your ass today." He said with a sly grin. The groaning men that wandered off to their respective groups seemed to the detail that said this was over.

As skirmishes usually were. They were fun...but oh so damn short.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Lorenor's sword licked flesh and tasted blood. Tommy's blood trickled down the length of his prevalida longsword. Frowning at the full damage of the attack, the mutant knew that his battle was over. At least, the battle with the handsome boy. Staring at the lad's actions, the small warrior pondered taking a quick stab at the youth's back as he turned and walked away. And he could too! His assassin's training would see to his success. Out of respect for the handsome boy, the mutant pulled back a few steps. "'Tis a pity. There shalt be no more time for us to waltz!"

Bowing graciously to the boy, sword in hand, the mutant offered a final parting thought. "I shalt meeteth thee again when thou art stronger. I shalt be waiting for thee to come and collecteth thy bounty! Keep on thy training!"

And so, many warriors from the Knights of Dawn broke through Tommy's wretched powers. A single sphere of elemental light pierced the cold abyss, a flicker, a spark, and then a contained torch of light. Lorenor recoiled from the blistering light and prepared his hasty escape. The troops were just now working around the boy's clever trick. Lorenor would need to acquire power of that nature someday.

Preparing his sword for the attack, the blood-stained weapon was ever ready to follow the mutant's command. A stalwart cadet located Lorenor's position and engaged the small warrior dead on. To this new situation, Lorenor reacted quickly by hacking at the young charge's attacks. A quick parry revealed the flaw in the boy's intentions. Lorenor's skill was just far too superior for the simplistic military training. In a quick swiping motion, the mutant claimed the boy's forearm and severed it at the elbow. Prevaldia once again bit through flesh.

The youth screamed out a warning to his fellows. This further gave away Lorenor's position infuriating the bastard child. Guards were now closing in on the mutant potentially sealing his doom. Lorenor did not want to let it end this way. And then, something else happened.

Lorenor caught the hint of another tremendous source of power being released. It was the monk! His thoughts suddenly screamed to him as the shadows finally shattered underneath the weight of the knights' powers. Now, the concealment was gone, along with his window of escape. Burning the physical appearance of the child, Lorenor swore to one day revenge himself upon the little bastard. He turned, in a panic, towards the position of the Monk. The Monk was in a furious exchange with the eldest commanding officer of the Knights of Dawn. Observing the exchange, Lorenor saw a tall man in his early forties that was quite handsome. He wore a scar on his face, was crowned with blond hair, and stared with furious cerulean blue eyes. The monk was in a heated argument with this handsome lad. With his enhanced senses, Lorenor could eavesdrop on what the two were talking about since the pair were close by. The mutant did not like what he was hearing at all.

"Cease this course of action! I am a Monk of Ai'Bron!" The monk was yelling at the top of his lungs. It was clear that the man was trying to buy Lorenor more time, but the mutant was staring at the situation at hand. He owed the Monk that much.

"I am a commanding officer of the Knights of Dawn. I do not answer to the likes of you, civilian. He is a wanted felon. He is guilty of treason and we are going to take him in for interrogation. Your gods will do well to stay out of the way."

"How dare you!"

"Hold!"

And the exchange began. The monk released the powerful energies at his disposal, but the commander was prepared. Wielding a sword made out of titanium alloy, acid edged and masterwork in quality, the knight was furious by this point. Using the full capacity of years of combat training, the man prepared to destroy the puny monk before him. But of course, as was these matters, no amount of training could prepare one for the real deal. The monk was a force of nature and released tremendous amounts of chi. A burst of auric energies flew out from the controlled chakra points within the monks body. A brilliant gold light shined sporadically and chaotically through the air in a ten foot radius. This burst knocked the knight back giving them all a spare moment. Staring at Lorenor, the monk winked briefly and smiled softly. Lorenor got the hint. The mutant prepared his escape engaging the nearby soldiers who simply stared in confusion. Lorenor heard a yell behind him as the monk released whatever energy his mystical attack was going to perform.

And with the facade of darkness broken, Lorenor's powers waned. In a weakened state, Lorenor fought with everything he could muster. His sword flashed through the air as he cut down the warriors before him before they could react to his assault. Soon, he saw an opening. The mutant cut down one more cadet, the man must have been in his early youth. Having developed an extreme hatred for needless bloodshed, the small warrior had no choice. He prayed to N'Jal for strength and many blessings. Finally seizing his opening, Lorenor escaped the day of the siege and put behind him as he ran, sheathing his weapon. He released a tremendous blast of kinetic energy from his plasma discharge gun. Shouts from behind him, and the Salvarn Lord quickly faded off into a sea of uknown faces...

***

"You bastard monk, you don't know what you've just done!" An infuriated knight was standing up and immediately moved into combat position. "By the will of Khal'Jaren, I shall stop you where you stand." The monk called to his patron deity for protection. "Come on then. You are now wanted for treason, and are an enemy of the state!" The arrogant knight yelled. Several of his charges prepared to engage the brave monk. "Nay. This one is mine!"

And so the battle began. The monk and the knight prepared to exchange blows. After a lengthy skirmish, sometime passed. The knight held his ground against the weakening monk. "You are using your own life energy for your attacks. You are a fool and you will die like a dog!" The knight yelled. "If it is my fate. So be it. But it is you who will suffer in the end my dear knight." Another rush. An further dance of blows, and then suddenly, a scream. The knight's blade tasted flesh and pierced the vessel of the monk, signaling a new dawn. A new conspiracy. The monk bled from his mouth. "Finish me! You bastard!"

"You have no idea what you've just cost us today monk. It will not be over easily for you. You will not enjoy this. Not at all. Take him my fellows."

And in one fell swoop, the knights gathered around the monk and captured him placing bindings across his ankles and wrists. "Release me at once!" The monk cried. The knight retrieved his blade and turned towards the monk. "I hope your fellows are watching. The Monks of the Order have just been named enemies of the state and will be hunted down for you folly."

"You bastard!"

A quick punch across the face by a nearby cadet. "Hold." The knight's leader said. "Your friend. That bastard child of N'Jal, he will pay a thousand deaths for his crimes. You've just let a criminal go. One who is a follower of the cursed one. A life-time prison sentence in Terrinore Isle will help you think of the err in your ways. May you enjoy your last sights of the sun."

The monk spit in the knight's face. The knight simply wiped his face clean and smiled.

"Take him away."

And it was done.

Fin.

[Death's Nephew]

Tommy made his way quickly into the Citadel, trying to blend in with the crowd that was shuffling back in the safe building. He didn't want any soldiers following him for the arrest. He had enough things to worry about.

He walked over to a take a seat on a stone bench next to the amazing craftsmanship of the equally stone walls and let out a breath as he held his useless arm. He'd need some stitches soon or he'd bleed out. Unfortunately hoping his grip to slow the blood would be his best bet until all was clear.

"Oh...why weren't you healed?"

Tommy looked up at whoever was talking to him. A monk with a friendly young face smiled at him. "Here, I'll get that." He softly mumbled some words and focused his palms over the young specter's arm. Like the magic that it was, he saw his flesh mend together as if reverse cutting. Even his sleeve on his jacket was fixed.

"Wow. Thanks buddy." Tommy said with a genuine tone he hadn't felt in years.

"Anytime. Normally we heal competitors as they are taken out of their battle rooms. Odd how you weren't." He had a slightly frowned brow as he chewed on his lower lip. "Oh well, just find one of us instead of slowing dying, ok?" He chuckled and gently punched the "competitor" on the arm.

"Yea, no problem. I'll be sure ta' do that." He said awkwardly. His arm hurt now. How strong were these bastards? Clearly much stronger, probably more than Lorenor. He'd need to get up to that guy quick, fast, and in a hurry. He was a ball of fun that he wanted to either subdue into defeat or slowly kill. Not like torture, but like a nice long fight where limbs are lost every few big strikes. Yes...that was a fight to remember.

He stood up and stretched out. He needed some direction. Something to pass the time until he could get contact with his original mission. Something about a guy with a thing at a place. He'd check on it later. Maybe the Red Hand needed something done in Corone. He wasn't too far from the base and he'd just been initiated. Time to get some work under his belt.

Before a monk pats me on the back and breaks my fuckin' spine...



((Fun thread man! Hope we do more together with these guys!))

[Taskmienster]

Siege


For ease of judgment, and not having to copy the entire rubric twice, I will be putting Lorenor’s score in red and Death’s Nephew’s comments in blue. Any extra comments will be placed in the “General Notes” section at the end.


STORY (15/30)(14.5/30)

~ Continuity ~ {6} {5}

~I got a lot more from Lorenor than from Death. Remember to give me something to go off of, who are you besides someone from hell? Why are you on Althanas? What’s your reason for being in Corone? Little things like that can help out a lot for the reader… since without it questions regarding dialogue, actions, persona, at to a degree setting tend to come up. The only thing that felt out of place for continuity for Lorenor was that I didn’t really get a good feel for why you were being hunted. I know about N’jal and the Knights of Dawn, but how did they know you were there? How did they find you? Why were you suddenly in Corone?

~ Setting ~ {5}{5.5}

~Other than a few instances, the setting was nearly forgotten. Tommy used the darkness from inside the Citadel, but it felt like that was a gross misuse of the ring since according to the description in the profile it says “when in dark areas” and you were both outside in broad daylight. Remember to give the reader something more than just telling us what is going on and instead let us join in and feel what is happening. Instead of saying blood was on the ground, tell us how it felt.

~ Pacing ~ {4}{4}

~Deaths Nephew: Your pacing between the end of the 4th post and beginning of the 6th post was… off… quite a bit. You went from forming some idea that was not really fleshed out, to someone who was bloodied and beaten up.

~All in all the pacing was quick, out of place, and kind of too fast. If you both had slowed down and taken a little bit more time this could have turned out much better. A little bit more background, more indepth story, and less sudden actions that were rather unexplained and it would have flowed smoother for the reader. More or less it felt forced.


CHARACTER (16.5/30) (15/30)

~ Dialogue ~ {6} {6}

~ Post 3 ~ Lorenor when you write dialogue, it’s hard to follow who it is that is speaking at times. Try and remember that going back and forth between two people, or more as I wasn’t sure about that third post how many were talking, you need to make sure to tell the reader at least who’s talking… The only other comments I have is that your ‘olde english’ dialect can be a little harsh, but that’s your character’s speech I understand. Just try not to repeat the same thing multiple times, like “thy” in a sentence and you don’t need to force “eth” on the end of words. Some things can still remain in the same dialogue without having to make it ALL sound like it’s part of the dialogue.

~ Action~ {4.5} {4}

~Most of the actions felt like both of you were trying to quickly tell a short story about a battle, without going in-depth with the actions. It’s not bad to not go into thick detailed writing about every maneuver you do, but at the same time a little justification helps. Furthermore, you have to take into account the attacks and actions, as well as reactions, of the NPC’s that you have fighting alongside you as well. If you don’t make their actions realistic then you tend to detract from the thread more… I saw this when the two guards swung at Tommy with him between them, attacking each other from what I could assume (though it was somewhat hard to follow).

~ Persona ~ {6}{5}

~Both of you need to work to concentrate a little more on the question of ‘why’. Why does your character act the way he does, fight the way he does, react and talk the way he does? Things like that can be helped greatly with a good insight into the background of the character, since the reader can assume things from their background and how it affects the current time… but it still requires you to put forth that extra effort and really show the reader your personalities more than tell them.


WRITING STYLE (19/30)(18.5/30)

~ Technique ~ {5}{5}

~Lorenor: You tend to write choppy sentences that aren’t really full sentences or shouldn’t be left on their own at times. I understand the affect that you can produce by the short sentences, that being heightened pace at times, but most of them seemed out of place due to their attempted stand alone nature without really being able to stand alone. It cut up the pacing more than helped it in the end. However, the overall literary technique use was alright, you wrote a couple things that threw me off quite a bit, but other than that you did ok. I noted the passage that caught me off guard the most in the General Notes section.

~Death: you don’t write in a very expressive way, not using advanced techniques such as metaphors and similes as much, but do have a different and unique way of writing that deserves to be noted in this section. I would have liked to see the more unique flare that you write with expressed MORE instead of shifting from it to a rather usual third person perspective of writing. The writing I see from you that I’m speaking of is the less wordy, verbose, or higher diction writing… you tend to tell the story as if it’s a third person perspective that your character is almost narrating. It’s a good style to use, and I’ve seen you and others use it very well, but it didn’t shine through in this thread.

~ Mechanics ~ {7}{7}

~Neither of you made too many ‘blaring’ mistakes regarding proper mechanics while writing, there were a few things that stuck out that caught me off guard (commas being needed and such) but all in all it was ok.

~ Clarity ~ {7}{6.5}

Lorenor: You tend to write things in italics, some of which are full sentences. One seemed like a thought, another one seemed like an emphasis on the sentence. Try and keep it so that you have thoughts within quotations so that it is clearer for the reader. [Example in post 5] Other than that some of the choppy sentences tend to make it hard to follow, and sometimes you attempt to elaborate on something without giving too much depth before hand on what you are elaborating on.

Death: The clarity issues I saw that you made were more focused on the fact that your writing is a bit hard to follow when it comes to action and reactions, as well as persona. I’m not sure how to help as much on that, seeing as it’s probably a function of your writing style. The only suggestions that I can make are to take a little bit more time to explain certain things, like how you are fighting and why people are doing what they are doing. As far as persona, it’s mostly a confusion on how he determines who is good and who isn’t… since he saw the Knights of Dawn as bad, though according to canon they are the good guys. Explain why they are bad, or you perceive them as bad, and that would have helped out quite a bit with this thread.


WILD CARD!!! {6}{6}


General Notes

Lorenor

~Post 3~ “The cadet cursed angrily and quickly decapitated the civilian.” What? Why? I didn’t see a reason behind decapitating a civilian with so many more around them… why incite the rage of the masses when you have a smaller force to attempt to quell and deal with them? That threw off the pacing and made things suddenly happen that I didn’t expect at all.

~ “Lorenor could taste the sweat on his tongue, and feel hues of blue fear, shocking ice, electricity all around. The mutant had a full five seconds to react to the incoming attacker. He quickly swiveled on his heels and turned, bringing his sword to bare. There was the loud clang of metal on metal, creating a particular explosion of light. Lorenor saw electricity and heat flowing from the two blades as they interconnected to one another, tongues suckling themselves.” [5]~ I know you have advanced senses, as you said in the sentence before this quotation, however certain things stuck out. First “feel the hues of blue fear”: It made it seem that you could feel colors more than emotions, a small edition to change the ‘hues of blue’ into something that could be easier associated with fear would help that. “shocking ice, electricity all around.”: What shocking ice? What electricity is all around? I could assume that shocking ice could be a metaphor for the nature of fear that the soldiers felt, but another metaphor could have made that seem a bit more palpable to the reader (same for electricity). The next thing of note was the explosion of light and the electricity and heat from the blades: This can often be a small cliché that people tend to indulge from the influence of the manga/anime and pop-culture films. When two swords connect there may be a momentary spark, but an ‘explosion of light’ or ‘heat’ from them meeting isn’t very realistic. The final note: “tongues suckling themselves” is another metaphor that seemed out of place for a description of two swords clashing. Another metaphor in its place would have made it more clear and made much more sense.

Deaths Nephew

~ “air like the dust that hovered in the rays of light that did sneak through the cracks in the walls.” [2]~ Rather long winded phrases like this, though a good use of advanced writing and technique, tend to detract from the overall appeal of the attempted simile. They can also detract from the clarity of the writing.

~ “Still don't see why killing a murderer for murdering the thief who stole my pocket watch that I stole from a traveling merchant with five wives....he'd still have six if she hadn't tried to steal one of my daggers.” [2]~ Why would a merchant attempt to steal a knife from a random person, especially someone as seemingly intimidating as Tommy? Also, why would you kill one of his wives for the attempt? Other than that the sentence is a little long winded.

~ “Most of the civilians fell into the gray area as where all the guards he had crippled were soaking wet in evil deeds.” [4] ~ Why were the guards evil? What made them evil? Things like that tend to help explain the powers, as well as Tommy’s perspective (inviting the reader to further understand the character through the writing as a means of showing them not telling them). I made comments in the rubric about this, but wanted to point out the sentence that said comments spawned from.




TOTAL

(56.5/100)(54/100)


GAINS/REWARDS!

Lorenor gains 1838 exp; 200 gp

Death’s Nephew gains 525 exp; 175 gp

[Taskmienster]

exp and gp added!