-Encounters.- (Closed)

[Mutant_Lorenor]

(Closed to Jensen)

After his recent death at the hands of a deviously forged contraption by an unknown enemy, Lorenor found himself falling into the pages of obscurity. He learned the instructions taught to him by the shadowy enigma that had become his mentor. After his most recent resurrection at the hands of the Forsaken, Lorenor had a fury that dwelled deep within. This fury guided his hand, guided his thoughts, and guided his passion. As the living avatar of N'Jal, the mutant had a newly-found purpose. Vengeance. And to the Pyre with anyone who stood in his way.

With those considerations in his head, the mutant found himself staring at The Citadel's walls once again. Wearing the robes of a High Priest of N'Jal, the mutant was fully dressed. He wore his hood down, and his artifacts were visible on his person. All except the Horns of Power. The mutant wore a grim expression on his face, several carefully chosen weapons placed upon his person.

After his recent performance in the event known as The Cell, the mutant had won a newly discovered and hard-won respect. The witnesses of The Cell begrudgingly looked at Lorenor with the respect he had so rightfully won. Single-handedly, he set off a chain of events that caused the defeat of Letho Ravenheart. The so-called hero of Corone. Lorenor was the exact anti-thesis of everything that Letho stood for. Taking his opportunity to back-stab Letho Ravenheart, the mutant spilled blood. He'd also caused the death of another combatant, a combatant whom remained nameless. Overall, two sacrifices in the name of N'Jal was a decent haul.

The tournament proved a hazardous experience. However, Lorenor had come out a winner despite meeting his arch-enemy Elijah, the pyromancy obsessed chef. Looking at how things have unfolded gave the mutant a new perspective on the warriors of Althanas. It showed him who was doing what and where. So Lorenor could tabulate his friends and foes at the same time, those were key.

Information that could be used by his matron deity, N'Jal. Lorenor was pacing back and forth with a look of frustration in his eyes. So far, the investigation into his murderers had turned up absolutely nothing. The monks of the order were stonewalling him. Lorenor had an enemy now, and that was finding the men or women responsible for his death. The trap's images still burned in his mind and the ordeal he had to endure. There is a lesson to be learned. Was the message his captors wrote on the wall for him to decipher. The single phrase repeated itself over and over in his twisted head. Yeah, the lesson is that you've picked on the wrong mother fucker.

Lorenor cracked each of the knuckles in his hands. Frustration was making his body tremble. I am not making progress. He thought to himself. It is time that I kick things to the next level. Lorenor walked over towards the fields outside of Radasanth. He was eager to pick a fight outside of The Citadel. Lorenor knew that much, but he didn't know what he would find.

The road lead outside of Radasanth's city gates and into the wild lands of Corone proper. The outskirts of Concordia Forest were a complicated series of fields and vineyards. Overhead, night was the hour. The moon shone brightly casting its silver glow upon the land below it. Stars twinkled overhead, the various constellations of Althanas watching the events of the tiny world below eternally. Lorenor passed road signs as he traveled up the road and into the first field he came across. It was an endless wheat field, pasture animals visible. Lorenor's boots crunched against the soft earth. His Salvarn cloak, a trademark, flowed with the night-breeze in a gentle lashing movement. Lorenor drew his steel, masterwork sword, and began to swing at shadows. His movements were controlled and quite beautiful to watch. He used his full speed and reflex capacity in each swing, allowing his anger to flow through the strikes.

Doing this deadly dance, he waited for something to happen...

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Inebriation. The byproduct of excessive drinking in large quantities. For all who drink of the liquid courage they can feel invincible, numb, moody, or talkative. It was the great changer of ways and all who drank of this became lumbering fools, or mighty heroes.

Immortals were no exception. Jensen drank one cup after another of bitter ale as he roared with the crowd, enjoying his recent fight from the citadel not a few feet away from the tavern. He watched as two men arm wrestled in a titanic fashion, their muscles bulging as the women in the bar cheered for their pick to win. Whoever won was going to get lucky tonight, Jensen had mused.

One slender arm wrapped around his waist as he looked to see a young beauty beam up at him. Jensen’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch in seductive intent as she laughed tapping his chest and mouthing for him to follow. He quickly downed his drink and followed her blond hair, seeing her toothy grin as he mimicked it with a set of his own.

The outside air was cool upon his flesh as he saw this woman dance just out of arms reach. Her black hair seemed to taunt for him to grab it as her body moved in a seductive inviting manner. His hands reached to grab her, but she was always just out of reach as she slapped them playfully away, inviting him deeper into the woods.

At last his feet stopped as he looked out into the clearing, seeing some strange man in robes swinging a sword around in the air with precise movements. Jensen’s brain was in a fog and he couldn’t quite comprehend what was going on, but as he turned to see the red haired girl from the bar he knew something was off.

“Did your hair change color?” he asked in a slur. “Cause if it did, that would be sooooo cool.” he smiled lazily as his tongue fell out his mouth, drool dripping down the side of his face.

“I have heard much of the mighty Jensen Ambrose , I have come to see if you can perhaps be strong enough to beat this man for me?” she pleaded, her eyes full of intent. Jensen looked to her stupidly before he flipped a pointing finger to him.

“That dancing clown?” Jensen asked, his body feeling very lucid and his stomach contents swishing around. The woman nodded. Jensen shrugged his shoulders pulling out a throwing knife in one hand and his trusty punch dagger in the other as he moved forward in a drunken haze.

When he neared the warrior he gave him a once over, seeing his hideous face in all it’s brutality. The sight itself ran a memory through his head and he recalled the Spider Magi of N’Jal. Yet his face, his face was just so disgusting to even look at.

Before he could say a word Jensen puked upon the grass, falling to his knees as the alcohol watered the lawn beneath him. He continued this for a solid ten seconds before he wiped the back of his hand over his face and then looked towards his foe.

He puked again.

When he finished he brought himself woozily back to his feet and lifted his weapons in defense. “Dear god, man!” he shouted to him far louder than he intended to. “You are uglier than a N’Jal whore! And they ain’t lookers!” he commented.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Blasphemous words echoed through the wind. It took the mutant a second or two to realize that an actual man had spoken and not a hallucination. Lorenor turned slowly towards Jensen as if to emphasize the horrible physique that adorned the mutant's physical shell. Glowing fountains of energy burst out from a well defined pair of eye sockets. No eyeballs were present. Visible at close distance, was the lack of a pair of ears, a nose, and perhaps a lack of other features as well. Lorenor stood at an extremely short stature for a warrior of his esteem.

Representing the Thayne, N'Jal, Lorenor heard the words that came from the youth's mouth. Sensing a certain smell of death emanating from the youth, Lorenor looked at Jensen with a cold expression on his face. The sword-attacks stopped coming for a time as he stood there holding his weapons. Thinking about the ignorant child's address, the mutant held his weapon facing downward, tip towards the ground. He walked over to the sick lad, his eyes observing with an obvious intensity that could not be ignored.

Lorenor's very presence was a harsh, terrifying one. Few villains on Althanas were capable of achieving a commanding presence like the mutant could. His eyes narrowed to thin slits. Adorned with the robes of a High Priest of N'Jal, Lorenor began to wonder if this youth knew exactly what he had stumbled upon.

Once he had covered the distance between himself and Jensen, Lorenor continued to hold his weapon with one handed. His movements were graceful, controlled, filled with purpose. Long dreadlocks flowed from the top of his scalp down to the small of his lower back. Wearing a cloak made of Salvarn beast-hides, the strange feature added to the mutant's eccentric nature. He looked down at the boy who was relieving himself of his previous meal.

"Fool! Only ignorant children speak of the dark lady with such a tongue. Perhaps, it be best if it cut it from you!" Lorenor said. Very few things offended him in this life, and people speaking ill of the dark lady was one of them. If Jensen was intending to get a rise out of the mutant he would find that he succeeded in that task. Lorenor looked at the boy. "Get up whelp!" He yelled and sent a quick kick towards the youth's stomach.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

As if his stomach wasn’t already having the worst day of its life the freak’s boot slammed deep into his gut, sloshing the few remaining contents around as he spun onto his side and rolled away, the breath in his lungs escaping like rats on a sinking ship. He coughed silently before a deep breath allowed him a fresh set air that he exhaled out in a fit of wheezes.

He curled his feet and fingers to his stomach, cradling it like a baby as he stuck his rear end up in the air and whimpered in pain. What the hell was this guys problem anyway? Bile lifted up and down his esophagus and it burned like a hellfire through his throat as he turned to his side and rolled onto his rear looking the aggressor in the eyes.

Well that was a new one for him. Flames for eyes, or some eldritch energy, he wasn’t even sure anymore. The creature at first looked disgusting but up close and personal he was a putrid sight for the eyes to behold. He turned to his side and coughed up some bile as he spat getting back onto his feet. One finger lined his throwing knives as sobriety began to reclaim his inebriated mind. The immortal prayed the world would stop spinning shortly.

“Thayne N’Jal?” he repeated. “Dark lady?” Jensen let a chuckle escape his lips. “Sounds like a bad bondage club. Is it exclusive membership for ugly sonovabitches like yourself? Will the dark lady only spank people with no chance of pleasing a woman?”

Jensen was genuinely interested, because each word he spoke seemed to make the fire in mutant’s eyes burn brighter. He felt his blood begin to cycle through his body as he let out a laugh. He had always enjoyed this in battle. The excitement of death, the rush of two people’s wills colliding in a titanic clash wasn’t his arena of fun. For the enigmatic immortal he wanted a far more sublime course of action; he wanted the opponent to hate their life as much as he hated his own.

That could have been a byproduct of his own past. He was positive experimentation on his own body including a beheading wasn’t doing wonders for his mental health. Whatever the cause the thrill in battle was getting inside ones mind and destroying it utterly with a sledgehammer so nothing remained.

He lifted one finger out towards the Thayne herald, taunting him to come and get Jensen as he let out a wild laugh. “I hope you don’t mind me taking a crack at giving your Dark Lady a good dicking while you watch in chains, bondage boy!”

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Something about the kid's sudden burst of laughter made the mutant hesitate for the briefest of moments. Lorenor heard everything that the kid said, every last word of it. Lorenor's servitude to N'Jal was being questioned, his loyalty made of a mockery of. Who the hell brought this kid here? Are these the kind of punks coming out of Radasanth's Slum District these days?! No respect for their elders!? Pondering the youth's beheading right then and there, the mutant took a step forward. He was getting ready to end the lad's life when something else happened.

A vision of sorts. N'Jal cleared his mind and so, a vision of the past, the present, and the future flowed through his skull. Lorenor clutched the side of his head as N'Jal spoke to him through their communion. Several visions of pain and torture passed through the mutant's brain as he stood there. Hesitating ever so briefly. The boy's laughter filled his head as he stood there, anger passing from his gut with each passing moment. As Lorenor realized what he was looking at, the mutant understood a matter: He is abused. Damaged goods. Perhaps I share more in common with this brat than most other folk I've come across. Lorenor saw the symbol of a certain Order he'd never seen before. Two faces taunted him from the Living Dark.

When the vision faded, the mutant was looking at the laughing boy. He shook his head. "I get it now, kid. You talk a game with your lashing tongue because that's all you know how to do." Lorenor shrugged as he stood in place. "Well now that you've gone and pissed me off, what say we cut the foreplay and get right to the part where you bleed for me."

Lorenor said. Angrily, Lorenor stabbed his steel, masterwork weapon into the ground. Walking quietly towards Jensen, Lorenor began to speak once again. "You will learn for talking about matters you do-not comprehend." Lorenor said. "I carry the Dark Lady within. Such matters are not to be trifled with!" And Lorenor proceeded with a swift back-hand attempt towards the kid's face. "You come here looking for fight, you've found one kid."

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen watched as the man casually admitted he had an understanding of who he was. One sentence and magically the man had all the answers as to why Jensen was the way he was. This made him snort ending his laughter as he cut back and bent low avoiding the back hand. He would show the mutant that he wasn’t so easy to figure out.

“Why do you keep calling me kid?” Jensen asked darting off to the side. “Are you and your dark lady into kids? Are you both pedophiles? Do you like to make love to little children and then beat each other senseless?” he let the laughter bubble up from his gut as he slid one foot out in front of the other before he began to bounce in step to a rhythm he heard in his head.

“Seriously gramps,” he taunted. “What the hell anger issues do you have to be so outwardly aggressive? Did you get one too many dildo’s shoved up your ass by the dark lady?” he let his laughter echo in the dim lit moonlight. The world began to spin as he danced in place and he realized he was in a bad state of mind for using his Caeiporia fighting style. “Oh I know what it must be!” he said clucking his tongue. “I bet the bitch has been holding out on you; Making you wait to receive her love again. Well this is going to be awkward but I’ll just go ahead and tell you this, buddy.”

Jensen let out a wild howl of amusement as he rolled into his opponent and kicked for his midsection with a wild boot.

“I’m fucking your dark lady!” he said in a frenzy.

Jensen is in Caeiporia fighting stance, but since he is intoxicated he is considered to be at three posts into the stance. This means 1.4X AGI and .4 DEF. React as you see fit.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

More words. As the fight was beginning to unfold, Lorenor understood the vision that N'Jal showed him. The vision continued. Hundreds of Jensens were in a place being killed all at once. Then, the Jensen would return to life on the third day without so much as a scratch. What is the deal with this guy, he reminds me of myself... Lorenor thought to himself as the man broke into laughter. Then, something happened. A very interesting something.

With the images burning in his head, the mutant saw that in his moment of insanity, the youth evaded his half-assed back-hand. This brought a grin to the mutant's face. Still observing his opponent, he saw that the youth took on a bizarre combat position he had not seen in his life. Why is he dancing around like an acrobat now?! Lorenor didn't like surprises. Even when they were surprises brought by N'Jal.

Reacting to the youth's sudden change in demeanor, the mutant's face twisted up into a grimace. He suddenly saw why the kid had moved into a combat position. Again, the youth spoke about matters he had very little understanding of. This man is a desperate rat. And desperate rats are capable of anything, I must be on my guard here.

Studying the youth's loose movements, Lorenor's calculating mind prepared for what would happen next. Th'llexyah Drukai was a fighting style taught by the Order of Ai'Bron to its students. Lorenor had learned the style during his tenure with the Order and now shifted into a tight combat position. He showed that he would not underestimate this kid. When the kick finally came and the laughter reached a fever-pitch, the mutant reacted. He turned to the side, shifting with a perfectly executed shift of his body. He used his advanced reaction time and speed for the movement. The mutant was through playing games. When the powerful kick, despite the youth's current insane and drunk status, connected, the mutant felt a relishing pain going up and down his side. The grin never left his face. Lorenor moved so that his elbow was parallel to the man's knee. Using the side of his body closest to the man's knee, the mutant suddenly brought the weight of his two-hundred pound body on a tactical elbow-strike to the knee. Lorenor intended to take that leg out of commission. For the youth's blasphemous comments of his precious N'Jal, Lorenor would see to it personally that he suffered tenfold.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Even being drunk couldn’t change the principles of being hurt. Jensen’s kick was countered expertly and his knee sent emergency pain signals upwards into his brain where he responded with a scream of torment rolling off to the side and cradling his broken knee. The bigger mutant had easily slapped his mobility away with ease, the same ease he used to speak to him about things he didn‘t know anything about.

Enraged his knee was busted he attempted to stand before he dropped to his good knee before falling onto the floor. Pain flashed behind his eyes as he shut them tight, his hands moving to his broken limb and tenderly holding it as he kicked with his other good leg. Now Jensen had stepped into it. His hubris had lost him his ability to move.

“Oh crap, he and his dark lady are going to rape me!” he hissed out as his eyes lowered into hateful slits upon the mutant. Sobriety hadn’t hit him yet and he felt the tingle of inebriation wash down his spine as his leg began to grow numb. He managed to lift himself to his other knee and stood there, bringing his hands in to his upper chest as he attempted to stand again.

The immortal had no more success as he fell down upon the ground face first. He slammed a fist into the dirt, then slammed it again as a small crater was made where he impacted the earth. Dust flew up lazily into the night sky like smoke as he took a deep breath and pushed himself up to his good knee. “Loving this aren’t you?” Jensen spat to his opponent as his anger flooded through him. He was most certainly not enjoying this fight anymore.

One last time he attempted to stand, this time shifting all his weight onto his good leg. He managed to stand this time, but the result wasn’t one the knight had appreciated. In effect to be able to stand he showed his greatest weakness was now in his other leg. Should the immortal lose that leg he would be toast.

A small trickle of the liquid courage bubbled up and warmed his heart as he grinned. He knew a fighting style that wouldn’t require his legs so much. Lifting his hands up to his chest he let out a few test jabs and punches before he lowered one hand down and taunted the mutant with the other lifting him the bird.

“Come on,” Jensen spat with a cruel grin. “I’ve been to worse bondage shows than this, you ugly slave whore.”

Jensen is now in boxing stance. He is below average in this, but due to his drunken state his skill in this will raise to average.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

Standing there for a moment, the images still burned in his brain. Like a shot of lethal poison through the brain, the mutant's mind was still focused on the horrendous images of the suffering that Jensen had gone through. A part of Lorenor, the single shreds of humanity he had left, felt sorry for the fool before him. Already christened with blood and bile, the ground beneath them was soaked in with both substances. Lorenor still felt a bit of pain from the satisfying kick that Jensen had thrown his way.

"You're so worthless. You're the one who is disgusting. Look at you, you can't even stand right now." When the youth stood up finally, after several attempts at standing, the mutant sighed heavily. "This is no battle, on the fields near Lindequalme I think I've fought badgers more frightening than you. You are pathetic and weak. You're too much of a wreck to battle with any real meaning. Pain is serious business!"

Lorenor began to consider a certain train of thoughts. When those thoughts manifested in his twisted brain, the mutant found himself grinning. "I shall give you a single iota of power, a sampling if you will. But then you are on your own after that. You are too pathetic and I never want to see you again after tonight. If I do, I swear to you, it shall be the last time you come back to the Firmanent!" Lorenor called out to the youth.

As he moved towards Jensen, the mutant began to pick up speed. Speed. One of Lorenor's most terrifying powers. Soon, the mutant was upon the youth, ready to finish the youth off. But, it was evident that the warrior had a dangerous plan in mind. I've got you, you obnoxious little shit. When Lorenor was within striking range, his mind prepared for every possible outcome. Using the fighting style at his disposal, the mutant was prepared to take anything that came his way. In fact, he shifted his body weight so his momentum was moving forward in his sprint. With his chest protruding slightly forward, the mutant would be vulnerable to attack from the youth.

However, anything that the youth could send his way would be frivolous by this point...

Lorenor was prepared.

Even for his own death.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen listened to the mutants words and all he could do was nod dumbly. The speed of the N’jalian paladin had increased and it just became to much for the knight to handle. His eyes had trouble focusing and his inebriated state of mind wasn’t helping him concentrate at all as he tossed out a right hook. The mutant easily dodged the first swing, taunting the immortal with a playful shove that had nearly sent Jensen back to the floor.

He turned to let in a quick jab and Lorenor took the hit, his face contorting into what Jensen guessed was a mixture of pleasure and pain. Either way he had hit the fool and all his teachings in the order of hand to hand to combat taught him one thing; when you land a blow, you don’t stop. He let his jab in again, hitting the fleshy region of the hip be his punching bag just under the ribs.

The mutant bent into the hit and Jensen was able to punch downwards into the face region, hitting his opponent in the nose. He followed up with an uppercut right to the enemies chin. He pulled back both arms and let a flurry of punches go into the gut and stomach of the N’Jal paladin. He continued his ruckus of motion as he felt sweat drip down his head.

Yet each hit only seemed to make the bastard happy. This style of attack also didn’t seem to slow down the mutant either as he realized the creature had wanted Jensen to hit him. Sobriety at long last filtered through the mind of the immortal and his face contorted as his lips flared in disgust. I’m only doing what he wants, he concluded far too late.

The immortals mind flashed to the woman from the bar, her hair that changed color. It flowed behind her like a spiders web in the breeze and his eyes were illuminated to just what part the woman had played in this little game created for the mutant.

He let his breaths out heavily as he stood up as straight as possible before spitting to the side. Lorenor waited with the patience of a hunter before he smiled. Jensen had enough games, and he especially hated it when people made the fool of him. His life was full of too much memories and broken feelings for him to allow another to make a fool of him.

He pulled back his fist as far as it would go and he let it out towards the mutant’s face. He would knock this stupid N’Jal bondage slave out, and then he would make a break for it. When he would try to follow him he would turn and let out a throwing knife right into the beasts eyes.

Within inches he felt the breath of the mutant on his knuckles. He focused everything he had on that punch as he snarled in defiance. Just as fast as he felt the warm air from the mutant’s breath he noticed it was gone. In a blur of motion to the side Lorenor evaded the punch and held out his hand, grabbing Jensen’s wrist.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

After a moment had passed, Lorenor realized he was all over the youth. In the end, he had grabbed the youth's wrist without really meaning to. It was all instinct by now. Lorenor understood that the youth had no hope of landing a serious hit unless he held back on purpose. Even holding back, Lorenor still had the drop on him.

He thought about what he had previously said. I shall give you a single iota of power. A hideous smile twisted upon the face of the dark-skinned mutant. Lorenor looked down at Jensen for a long moment. Glowing eyes of energy burning into the night. Overall, the mutant was a terrifying sight to behold. When Lorenor stared at the youth, he attempted to peer right into the soul of the matter. With the vision imbued by N'Jal, Lorenor had a deeper understanding of his young opponent.

I can get into your head. All you have in your defense to state your case is flowery words. He thought to himself. Summoning up the orb of darkness, the grenade, the mutant held onto the sliver of power for a few moments. Releasing the youth's wrist, Lorenor suddenly reached out for the man's throat. He moved with tremendous speed, no longer playing any games. It was time, the hour had come.

If Lorenor grabbed the youth, he would lift the boy up off the ground with his full strength. But that was only if the first movement connected. Lorenor continued to focus the grenade in his hand until the darkness had become a solid, terrifying form. He stared into the youth's eyes the entire time. Hatred seething out of the mutant's own expression.

"All heroes eventually fall." Lorenor said quietly. "This hour is the hour for the darkness!"

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen had enough of this fight. It was getting way to one sided for him. N’Jal was a bitch, this guy was a whipped fanatical warrior for her and a total ass. Jensen was tired of playing others games and when he saw the incoming cloud of darkness he pushed back with all his might on his feet, falling back a few steps before tripping to his one good knee extending his wounded limb out to the side.

“Well, this is the end for you buddy,” Jensen said loudly. “Don’t know where you got the idea I was a hero. Nope, far from it.” Jensen eyed as the mutant kept his grin up, slowly advancing. Good, that was what the immortal wanted his opponent to do.

“I’m just a humble knight of the order of the Apocalypse. I’ll leave that hero crap to Sei -I’m a pretty little fairy- Orlouge and Letho -I’m the Marshall and what I say goes and don’t forget to buy my gunblade flavored barbecue sauce- Ravenheart.” The knight feigned a chuckle as the idea took more shape, seeing his course and how this battles conclusion would happen. He let out a defiant gasp of pain as he stood again to his full height.

“In one move I’m going to make you hate me for all of your entire life, you N’Jalian cock sucker.” Jensen laughed wildly as he watched the mutants movements. One finger slid down to his throwing knives and he pulled it up into his hand, twirling it on his digits like it were a drum stick. Three steps, four steps, every muscle the mutant made towards him was carefully noted by the enigmatic immortal as his laughter picked up.

“In one move I’ll end this silly battle,” Jensen spoke with no boast, no tone to indicate he was wrong. His confidence spoke volumes as he lifted the blade up to Lorenor’s face and pretended to throw it. The mutant didn’t flinch.

“See people like you think you are the boogie man,” Jensen’s eyes went wide as he became animate. “You think you can be like Seth Dahlios and scare little children into behaving before you eat their brains out as you rampage into their bedroom from under the bed or in the closet. You think your tough as nails and nothing in life can bother you as you are the one who bothers others!”

Jensen took careful note to see the mutant’s speed had increased a bit. Jensen warily shifted to the side, giving himself precious seconds so he could antagonize the mutant into making a mistake. “You think you’re like Cassandra Remi, or Slayer of the Rot or someone of importance. You think you are all high and mighty because you sucked off the tit of the dark mother N’Jal.”

Jensen let the blade twirl in his fingers again as he laughed, his mirth echoing in the open air. “But all you assholes got one flaw with your plans. You all got one problem that makes all your hard work go to shit…”

The mutant was moving on him, quickly now. Jensen howled out to the moon his final taunts.

“You see, you have to have someone alive to play your games! Tu-da-lu, ya freak!” he waved his fingers in a mocking way as he lifted his blade up over his throat, slashing deeply spraying the crimson life all over the green glass as the moon shined down upon the droplets turning them into sparkling droplets as the immortals body free fell slowly like it was in a trance. The knife fell from his fingers as red hot pain exploded through his body, his brain feeling like a thousand knives were softly grating against his gray matter.

He wanted to laugh, but the effects of slitting his own throat wouldn’t allow that luxury. Either way he looked up to the moon, now stained red with his own blood as his vision blurred. He knew that deep down he didn’t stand a chance against this guy, and all he did was inflate his own ego as he fought with him. Well, he had played N’Jal’s game long enough. In one move he changed the rules to the events being played out and as he promised he ended the fight.

His vision blackened slowly as he felt his heart race, pounding in his ears. Feeling left his fingers replaced by ice cold frost and his toes didn’t register to him at all. He could feel the crimson life bubbling within the back of his mouth but had no energy to spit it up as he gurgled loudly, choking on his own life force.

Despite all the pain, Jensen died with a smile on his face thinking how he gave his foe and the dark mother a solid finger to their face.

[Mutant_Lorenor]

In that moment, Jensen became Lorenor's bane. With a deeply furrowed frown on his face, the sudden act of ritualistic suicide really hit the point home. Literally. Blood seeped on the ground as he looked upon the youth for a long moment. His eyes narrowed to thin slits. What in the name of the Thayne was that all about!? For some reason, a sick feeling touched his stomach as he realized that he'd probably just made an enemy for life.

A presence manifested within his sensory grid. The smell of potent perfume touched his skin like many feathers. Lorenor did not bother to turn towards the newly discovered presence.

"You." Lorenor said with a hint of anger in his voice. "So you're the reason why all of this has taken place!?"

Lorenor should have guessed. Not all of the Clergy of N'Jal were on the same page, and some, even worked against The Forsaken. Lorenor skillfully knelt down towards the body of Jensen. The body was seeping blood too rapidly to be any suitable meal. I can't believe by the hand of a fellow Priest of N'Jal, this was the end-result. Reaching down towards the youth's corpse, Lorenor grabbed the hair of the boy. Then, he lifted the head up violently to examine Jensen's facial expression. Somewhere that bastard is laughing at us. He is smiling...curse him. I'll remember this.

"Why Lord Lorenor. Such an interesting state of affairs this has turned out to be. You have made yourself into an enemy of the Order of Apocalypse." She said. Lorenor simply listened. "I wonder how long you will last with such a title."

"Hold your tongue, Lorna. You know damned well I can take care of myself."

"Perhaps." Lorenor sensed her walking dangerously close. Her scent, her heat, her sexual lust becoming a torment. But, Lorenor was a loyal follower of N'Jal. When she placed her hand atop his shoulder, the heat was almost unbearable. "My. My. My. My. I can see the lust all over your dark halo. How long has it been for you Lord Lorenor? Months, years, decades?"

Lorenor hissed in anger. Quickly, he stood up. Impossibly fast, the mutant turned towards Lorna and grabbed her throat. He held her in place as an amused expression touched her face. Lorenor growled.

"I should end you, traitor. But unfortunately, you are a fellow member of the cloth. There are uses for you." Lorenor released the girl before before returning to his inspection of Jensen's body. He reached down and grabbed the very same throwing knife that Jensen used to slit his own throat. It still had blood and gore on it. Lorenor rotated the weapon in his hand, twirling it between his fingers. After a moment or two, he pocketed the throwing knife.

After that quick movement, the mutant turned towards Lorna once again.

"What business have you this hour?" Lorenor asked. "Why do you choose to make yourself known, now?"

"Something is amiss. There are those blasphemers who say you have found the dark lady in Raiaera. I came to seek you when I heard this rumor, to see if the legends were true. That boy, he bore markings of an Order I recall reading about. I thought their existence was merely lies. But seeing that boy, I know now that to be false." Lorna tapped her chinned. "We have to tread carefully now Lord Lorenor. The Order will come for us."

"Let them come Lorna. We have N'Jal on our side."

"That will remain to be seen."

Lorenor noticed a subtle temperature change in the air signaling that dawn was coming. Looking up at the sky, the mutant could see the colour changing ever so subtly. Shelter was needed, as was rest. Lorenor kicked the body of Jensen one last time and began to walk towards Radasanth. He needed a place to stay for the night and knew an appropriate five-star inn. Lorna began to follow Lorenor.

"Your company is not required." Lorenor said. "I must commune with N'Jal." Lorenor had made sure to grab all of his equipment before leaving the wheat field.

"I follow you by choice. I too, wish to seek N'Jal out. If in fact, she is the true N'Jal. I wish to know the truth."

Lorenor pondered that for a moment. "Then come see for yourself. I shall prove it to you."

As Lorna and Lorenor moved to Radasanth proper, a certain shadowy figure watched the pair move together from a nearby hill. When the two had gone a certain distance, the figure turned and walked off into the darkness.

***

FIN.

[Silence Sei]

Condensed Rubric! to quote Mario, 'Here we go!' You guys know where to find me for questions.

Lorenor

Story (26/30)

Character(20/30)

Mechanics (10/30)

Wilcard (3/10)

Total: 59/100

EI

Story (23/30)

Character (25/30)

Mechanics (15/30)

Wildcard (7/10)

Total: 70/100

EI loses a throwing knife, but gains 3000 exp, and 100 GP

Lorenor Gains one throwing knife, as well as 500 exp, and 50 GP

[Taskmienster]

Enigmatic Immortal is now level 2! Quick... lol

Exp and GP added.