Madness...

[Mutant_Lorenor]

(Recruit Thread (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?p=159356#post159356))

(Open to all, preferably people I have never rped with!!!)

Continuing his combat training, the mutant found himself staring at the Citadel's sheer walls once again. A place where the mutant found a bit of neutrality and comfort, the desire to train once again filled his black heart. He found himself active in many places in recent years, Corone was one of the last few. Raiaera, Salvar, and Dheathain had all known the claws of the mutant. Ripping a path of survival through history, the mutant now held his place firm in the pages of that same tome. He looked up at the Citadel for a moment, marveling at the impregnable fortress. Spires touched the clouds, and ancient statues rested on various places throughout various positions of the building. Lorenor had always wondered who actually manged to build such a structure in the first place. His eyes were neutral as he stared up at what he perceived were the tallest heights of the building. Clenching his fists for a moment, he saw various avians flying around the taller spires of the building. Though his senses only reached for about thirty feet in diameter, the mutant's senses was his most prized ability. Looking up to the farthest reaches of his sensory grid, the mutant could see into the Firmanent for a time, then, his senses perceived the gray-world of the Antifirmanent.

Looking up for another long moment, he felt the presence of a Monk brush up against his dark aura. Turning towards the monk, he looked away from the night sky and the pantheon of stars that blinked down upon Althanas with their promise of the world's impending destruction. Lorenor made the monk wait for a long moment, as he stood there. Then, after about ten minutes passed, the mutant finally addressed the monk.

"I was thinking about something. Thank you for waiting. I am wondering, do the old records dictate who actually built this structure?"

Not considering himself a historian at all, the mutant knew his question probably sounded really odd at best. Seeing the reaction of the Monk, the Monk's eyes were crowned by a frown. Lorenor's turn to wait had arrived and wait he would. For the Monks, willingly or not, had become crucial allies in his ascent to power. With their claims of neutrality, the mutant had found a stronghold he could operate on right under the scrutiny of the Knights of Dawn who had long since stopped hunting him after many failed attempts.

"There are many legends my old friend." The monk began. "In one particular account, the Thayne themselves built the structure and it has a firm holding in both the Firmanent and Antifirmanent." The monk continued. "It was a gift to their servants and constructed as a tribute to Mortals' savage nature. At the time it was believed that the Thayne took pity on us because we were basically barbarians and needed a place to take out our savageness and destructive natures." The Monk shrugged. "But that's just one theory."

Lorenor suddenly laughed at that, and the Monk laughed with him.

"Knowing what you know about the Thayne though Lorenor, I would suspect you have your own theories."

"Perhaps my old friend." He said in response. "It is just a matter that interests me and is cause for some independent research. However, I am obviously here for a purpose." The mutant suddenly became very serious. "I am still honing my skills. There is still much to learn. It is no longer about mastery, but perfection." He paused for a moment. Then continued. "There are enemies who stand in my way, and those who would attempt to crush my goals and journey. For this, I must be ready at all times. I cannot allow myself to grow weak or out of practice." Lorenor tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"What is it you seek Lorenor? You have already gained profound insight of the Thayne, and you have allowed yourself to become one of the most dangerous individuals on the planet." The monk continued. "Furthermore, the very sacrilegious act you have committed upsets the Order of the Dawn. We are neutral, but we can't protect you at all times when you willingly piss on everything that many organizations hold to be the truth. Many people think that because of you, N'Jal has returned." Upon hearing that the mutant shrugged.

"I had very little to do with the return of N'Jal." Lorenor said. "But I had everything to do with her rise to power." Lorenor tapped his chest twice. "What I carry with me will change the world."

"Perhaps for the better." The Monk opined. "The Thayne work in mysterious ways."

"Once we topple Xem'Zund, the Temple of N'Jal will thrive to its former glory. That is my main concern. All other matters are trivial." Lorenor moved his hand so that he placed it on the Monk's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "I am here for a purpose today. I wish to summon many of Althanas' warriors in a single grand melee." The mutant continued. "I am interested in testing my capacity against many skilled opponents, no longer just one. From now on I will be attempting multiple opponent melees to increase my level of skill." Lorenor said. "I want the environment to be..."

***

After parting ways with the Monk, Lorenor sat in particularly plain chamber. The Chamber soon altered to the environment that he would do battle in for conceivably the next few nights. A dark abyss surrounded several interlocking platforms. The platforms were several miles wide, and only a few feet thick. They were connected to large pillars that descended into the abyss. The pillars stretched down for many miles into the Living Dark. The mutant sat on the pillar that the main entrance was connected to. He was performing a deep breathing exercise that was part of his unique fighting style. Sitting in a lotus position, the mutant was controlling his breathing so that he could focus on the battle ahead. If the event was successful, there would be many participants in the fight. Lorenor asked the Monks to advertise the battle for him. He knew they would due to their neutrality stance. The mutant was hoping for a large number of participants. As he sat there, a mysterious transformation began to take place. Many platforms began to move at will, or rotate to different positions entirely. Some platforms moved up, down, left, right. Others simply shifted in odd angles.

Either way, the chamber, with its moving platforms, seemed almost alive...

[BattleMage]

The winter hadn't been as harsh on Corone as the years prior. The trees were quickly regaining their leaves and the snow birds where returning surprisingly early from their vacations to Fallien. The off time had given Derrick Magnum time to be reclusive and try to forget the pride breaking defeat he had been handed by the mutant named Lorenor months earlier. The past several months had been a harsh wake up call for him, but now the young elf strode into the citadel a new man, with a new found confidence.

Just days earlier he had been contacted by a man named Grimbo. He was a very straight to the point type of guy who told Derrick if he wanted to exact his revenge on Lorenor, now would be the chance. Truth be told he didn't come to the citadel seeking revenge though, he came seeking answers. Even though he had lost, Derrick still looked up to Lorenor, the ghoul resembled everything that the mage wanted. Until their encounter the elf didn't even know that a being could possess such raw power. The last battle with the mutant had left Derrick in a state of unrest though. He had never felt so minute before, but after their fight he couldn't help it. Lorenor had man handled him in a way he had never been before. After the fight Lorenor tended to Derrick though, and gave him insight on his dark aspirations. Even though he was an evil bastard, even he had standards and honor, and for that Derrick looked up to him.

Derrick slid his meaty palm across his chisled chin, smearing away a small droplet of sweat that had gathered amongst the thicket of facial stubble. For some reason, probably determination, he had been on a rigorous training schedule since the last encounter with Lorenor. It included everything from sharpening his strategies in combat to endurance training. Just moments earlier the elf had even sprinted through the entire city of Radasanth just to reach his destination, the citadel.

It's timeless halls were at a constant state of unrest. Despite it's constant traffic, the citadel still looked the same as it did months earlier. The familiar stone walls and irreplaceable artifacts had become a common image for the would-be warriors that ventured into the bustle of it's halls. The history of the citadel was a mystery to Derrick, but then again he wasn't much of a historian.

"You look like a man who knows what he wants." A voice that hinted wisdom crawled into Derrick's ear, alerting him that he was being addressed. The elf turned to face the emerald gaze of an older monk. His body was withered, but his eyes illuminated an aura of wisdom and youth.

"I heard that Lorenor is here and that he seeks opponents. I simply wish to meet with him, we have some catching up to do." Months earlier he would have worn a cocksure grin with every uttered word, but humbled by the defeat, he wasn't the same arrogant prick as that he used to be.

"Well I am sorry to inform you that master Lorenor is currently occupied with other matters. He has already entered his arena and unless you are willing to engage him in battle, you'll have to wait."

"Show me to his chamber, I am afraid what I have to say cannot wait."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The arena was remotely scarce of anything Derrick would've rendered natural. A series of platforms and pillars suspended high above eternal blackness, it really wasn't the mage's cup of tea, but Lorenor had strange taste. Derrick had gathered that from the man. Darkness could be seen for miles in each direction, but there was no sight of the mutant. He was here though, the place reeked of his dark aura and endless powers, tainting the place. It was as if the arena had been sculpted to resemble the feelings that were hidden within the mutant. Emptiness.

"Lorenor! It's Derrick, Derrick Magnum, I came as soon as I heard you were back!"

[Mutant_Lorenor]

As Lorenor controlled his breathing, and thus, his emotions, various memories began to flow forward from the ebb and flow of the past. With his mind's eyes relaxed the memories were pulled from the abyss. Lorenor thought about many things. Focusing on one specific set of memories, Lorenor remembered the times that he had spent with his eternal companions, the Golems of Dressed Fish Town. Lorenor. Remember the teachings that we have given you, one day they could save your life. All technology is based upon one simple idea, obeying the laws of Physics. Physics, as a raw concept is the study of the things relative to the Firmanent. Lorenor listened to the thoughts as he remembered the lectures of the Golem. Piece the device together quite carefully Lorenor. The Power Cell cannot be replaced once it is ruined, we have to acquire the parts to completely rebuild them. You have a great understanding of our native Technology. Now you must take that knowledge and allow it to become an art... Lorenor listened to the words of his son, Number 5,325.

As he listened, the memories became more vivid, more powerful. He remembered his battles against the the arch-enemy turned ally, Rinklaud. And he remembered Dejeron of the Ark of as well. The Ark was an ominous reminder of a future of Althanas not yet passed. An era where advanced Technology would one day rule over everything. Lorenor knew that he would be there to see that day.

Thinking about his son, Number 5,325, the mutant suddenly felt a great disturbance penetrating the Living Dark. A familiar scent touched his sensory sphere and the mutant began to gather a different set of memories. Remembering a past battle between himself and a youth named Derrick Magnum, the mutant's face twisted in a smile. When his eyes were closed, the darkness seemed to consume the mutant but he was actually sitting quite close to the entryway of the combat arena. When the presence completely manifested, Lorenor's eyes opened and the ethereal glow revealed the small warrior's position.

Sitting not more than a few paces directly in front of where the entry door was located, the mutant sat in a lotus position. His legs were crossed, and the floor felt cold against his bottom. Despite that, he wore really well made denim pants that were dyed black, a fancy Vlince shirt, and a thick hide cloak. The hood was down. Lorenor had left some of his property with the Monks of the Order so that he would not be held down for the battle. He kept with him his main artifacts, and one of his prevalida longswords. He also kept with him his steel sword, the same sword he had used to defeat Derrick Magnum not months prior.

When Derrick drew in close to the mutant, Lorenor stood up from his sitting position, rising from the ground. The Living Dark shifted ever so slightly at this motion sending a pulse throughout the battlefield. Platforms shifted and moved across the field of darkness eternally. The sounds of large moving objects filled the air. Lorenor looked above him and saw several platforms shifting from their previous positions. As he looked at Derrick Magnum, the youth had changed considerably to Lorenor's eyes. Seeing the spark that flowed from the youth's atma, it was obvious that he had gotten much stronger since their last meeting. Lorenor casually walked over to Derrick Magnum's person.

"Derrick Magnum. We meet again." Lorenor said calmly. "I remember you. I am glad that you have come. I am eager to see if you have gotten stronger since the last time we met. I have been rigorously training as well." Lorenor reached forward with his left hand in an attempt to touch the man's face. It had the beginnings of a beard growing in. "You are more handsome without the beard." Lorenor said casually, not meaning anything by the words. "I trust you were told why I am here?" He said whilst he began to draw his steel sword for battle, he moved into a loose combat position with the tip of his sword pointing to the ground.

[BattleMage]

Lorenor's voice opened some wound deep within Derrick's mind. Within moments visions of their last battle were pouring out, overwhelming and painful, they provided a reminder to why he had come. The mage had been nonstop in his labors since their last fight. The mutant gave him fuel to train, much like he was giving him fuel to fight now.

"No one told me why you returned Lorenor, but I'm sure you know why I'm here." The mage scoffed backing up from the ghoul's warm touch. "I'm guessing our reasons are similar though, after all great minds do think alike!"

In actuality the mage had come not only to show his improvement to Lorenor, but also test his skills. There were few places someone could test their skills without being convicted with assault, the citadel being one of them.

At once the racing thoughts that trudged across the mage's mind halted. For the whole of winter Derrick had pondered of nothing more than the moment he and Lorenor would come face to face again. He thought of how he would face the foe with endless power. He thought of how he would obtain victory. All of those thoughts faded now that he stood a span of feet away from his friend and mentor, but in this case his foe.

I guess it's proving time! Derrick thought as he readied his staff, Astra, that he had wielded through so many fights. He had suffered only one loss while holding the oak staff and that was to the man he was now peering at. The purple glow of the mutant's face gave Derrick chills and made his hair stand erect. A frightening feeling of insecurity spread through the mage's body as he caught wind from Lorenor's ghostly aura.

"Do I get first strike like before? Or would you like to start this one out?" He questioned, caught in a daze by Lorenor's piercing stare.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Seeing the youth retreat from his attempted touch, the mutant wore a sad smile on his face. He put his hand down to his side, his weapon held with the opposite hand. As he waited, Derrick Magnum spoke and asked a very specific question. The mutant's smile became a little bit brighter after that. Always, the expression twisted his face due to the ugly nature of the beast. In the presence of Derrick Magnum however, the mutant literally seemed to glow and radiate from within. Lorenor could feel the presence of the Living Dark all around him. He knew that if he really wanted to, he could destroy Derrick Magnum with little effort. But what would be the fun in that? The mutant pondered as the question was asked. The question lingered in the air for a long moment with Lorenor pondering his response ever so meticulously.

He already knew the answer, but he was going to make the youth wait for his response. Moving into a combat ready position, the motion was tried, true, extremely fluid. As a student of Th'llexyah Drukai, he knew all of the basic and intermediate aspects of the complicated fighting style. Now, Lorenor attempted to master the expert and advanced forms of the brutal fighting style. Lorenor knew that in order to stay on edge, he had to continue his studies in his martial skills.

"Of course my friend, you may take the first attack. Make it a good one, I am studying my martial skills as well."

Moving into a combat position based on the art was not a trivial matter. Each position he moved into had a specific purpose. A specific set of movements and reactions were associated to the combat style. When in combat position, Lorenor immediately thought about Derrick Magnum's fighting style from the previous encounter. He wondered vaguely what the youth had learned since their last dance. Make sure you do not kill him this time. The Monks were furious with you for doing that last time...

Killing their youthful assets is a no good proposition for all involved.

He thought to himself as he waited for the incoming attack. Don't hold back this time Lorenor. Concentrate on your reaction time specifically, you are faster than he is and considerably more powerful. Despite that thought, the mutant knew that he held back against opponents that he found himself attracted to. This time, things would go different there was something on the line. Lorenor's training. After these events in Corone, Lorneor planned a return trip to his fiefdom in Salvar. That was a story for another time.

As Lorenor stood there, he thought about something that tugged at the back of his mind. He remembered the teachings of one of his great mentors, Sorahn un' Rohnahmeh. Lorenor had once asked the white-furred warrior to train him in the martial skills. And his response had been quite simple. Lorenor, to learn the Ranoan Arts you must be like water. That basic concept had stuck to the mutant ever since, and had forged much of his current psychology.

With his combat position locked in, the mutant had a bit of time to think and consider the situation at hand. Judging by Derrick's expression, the youth had probably been training tirelessly since their last encounter. Lets put all his training to the test... Lorenor's combat position was a basic combat position of The Art. His sword was held with both hands at the handle, with the tip facing up to the sky at a forty-five degree angle. The blade itself covered his chest primarily and the stance had a middle-based center of gravity. Lorenor was crouched down partially with his legs comfortably spread open and bent at the knees. His calves were coiled and prepared to strike like a serpent. For the mutant, time flowed on in multiple directions as he considered the path his opponent would likely take. Then, he started to consider his own path. What The Art required of him, his own physical endurance and strength. Lorenor continued to think about his old mentor, Sorahn un' Rohnahmeh and wondered what the Ranoan warrior was up to since the days when the Gol'Bron fell apart.