Mutant_Lorenor
01-23-12, 07:21 PM
(Note: This is like my return thread or something. It takes place after the events that took place HERE (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?19839-Legend-of-the-Dark-Hero-2.) these events are all connected and continues my story.)
(Takes place roughly one month after the previously linked thread. For most of this thread I am using level 10 Lorenor. But by about the middle of the thread, it will be current day Level 0 Lorenor, thank you for understanding!)
Downtime.
Lorenor always hated downtime, he was a prodigy of N'Jal and he wanted to always be on the move. Always causing new paradigm shift to the current political universe. A whole month had passed since the events involving Rolund Gomman. Word quickly spread through the streets of Knife's Edge that the Prime Minister of Salvar had fallen. It wasn't clear who had done the deed since there were no witnesses to the events, but a mutilated body had been discovered. It was headless and missing certain items, but they knew who it was. The deed was labelled an assassination publicly by the local authorities in charged of such matters. Then, after that fire had lit the hearts of the masses, things went quiet. Dreadfully quiet, in the affairs of the church, and of Salvar in general. Even guards, well trained, watched their backs as news of their King going into hiding spread like wild fire amongst the masses. Nobody was safe. Anybody connected to Iorlan was a target. The professional Assassins of the Sway were a skilled lot that moved in an out of the shadow with ease. Using cloak and dagger tactics, they got rid of any who stood in the way of the cathedral's deeds.
After coming face to face with Saint Denebriel herself, Lorenor had half expected things to get much more active. They hadn't. Instead, his focus was back on his training, and he did not complain about being pushed to the side once during the event. He was thankful for the resources at hand and used them to the fullest his new rank as a Professional would entitle him to. It was a Thursday when he found himself in the training center once again. Trainers were set up around the chamber and Lorenor was utilizing one of them. None knew he was really an Assassin of the order, but it did not matter. All members of the cathedral were treated equally and allowed to use the centers provided on campus. Ranking members of the church were allowed to access special services in the training center, and Lorenor oft used these services. In fact, he was doing so then when he was training against a higher skill leveled trainer.
As Lorenor trained, he thought of the events of the previous mission. Things had gone dreadfully sour and he'd lost some crucial allies in the war against Iorlan and his comrades. Lorenor moved fluidly, his combat prowess tried and true. He had lived to ripe ol' age and lived to tell about it. He'd seen many dark deeds across history and had his hand in them. He'd ripped a bloody path across the pages of that same history. Lorenor danced against the trainer, the movements were fluid, almost beautiful to look at. Lorenor had developed an intensely brutal combat style that involved risking life and limb for incredible results. Lorenor could regenerate at will by then and because of that, he put his own body in harm's way, turning it into a living weapon. Lorenor raked out with his claws, unarmed, yet armed at the same time. Each of his swipes and slashes were filled with rancor, precise, and quite deadly. The trainer he fought was an equally experienced agent of the cloth, a professional assassin who'd seen many battles in his career. Lorenor trained against such men because he respected them.
Since the beginning, Lorenor had sought the strong in the order to learn from them. Strength was capable of causing fear, and fear was the department of The Grand Primus. As Lorenor trained, he thought of the events of the previous mission. Though he was rewarded for his efforts against their enemy, Lorenor criticized his own performance for the loss of critical members of the assassins. Though the major loss had been the act of a coward working for the enemy, Lorenor still blamed himself and it was a weight that put lead in his heart. As dark as Lorenor's soul was, he was also bound by honour. A long-time presence in The Church of Ethereal Sway, the skilled assassin had grown in talent. Lorenor honoured his friendships and contracts with his superiors, as demon-society was a contract society.
A few hours passed and Lorenor had completed his melee training session for the time being. When he was done, he cleaned himself up, and left the training complex of the church. He no longer received awkward stares from his companions in the fold. As Lorenor walked out of the training complex, The Endless surrounded his form. He could will it to take any material outfit's shape, and often dressed in the clothing of the N'Jallian Spider Magi. Though his practices were generally frowned upon with other members of the fold, his skill was an asset. Lorenor had earned his prestigious status as a professional. Lorenor willed The Endless to take the form of N'Jal High Priest robes. That generated some stares from his companions, but The Grand Primus did not care. He was set in his ways and was no longer concerned with such trivial matters. Lorenor walked to his personal quarters on campus near the cathedral where ranking members received official housing. He sat down on his bed, took a certain set of books and spread them in a certain way in front of his person, and began to chant quietly to his matroness. Lorenor instinctively moved to a lotus position, sitting quietly in the dark and preparing himself for what the hour might bring him. Either finally, a mission, or yet more training, he would be ready.
(Takes place roughly one month after the previously linked thread. For most of this thread I am using level 10 Lorenor. But by about the middle of the thread, it will be current day Level 0 Lorenor, thank you for understanding!)
Downtime.
Lorenor always hated downtime, he was a prodigy of N'Jal and he wanted to always be on the move. Always causing new paradigm shift to the current political universe. A whole month had passed since the events involving Rolund Gomman. Word quickly spread through the streets of Knife's Edge that the Prime Minister of Salvar had fallen. It wasn't clear who had done the deed since there were no witnesses to the events, but a mutilated body had been discovered. It was headless and missing certain items, but they knew who it was. The deed was labelled an assassination publicly by the local authorities in charged of such matters. Then, after that fire had lit the hearts of the masses, things went quiet. Dreadfully quiet, in the affairs of the church, and of Salvar in general. Even guards, well trained, watched their backs as news of their King going into hiding spread like wild fire amongst the masses. Nobody was safe. Anybody connected to Iorlan was a target. The professional Assassins of the Sway were a skilled lot that moved in an out of the shadow with ease. Using cloak and dagger tactics, they got rid of any who stood in the way of the cathedral's deeds.
After coming face to face with Saint Denebriel herself, Lorenor had half expected things to get much more active. They hadn't. Instead, his focus was back on his training, and he did not complain about being pushed to the side once during the event. He was thankful for the resources at hand and used them to the fullest his new rank as a Professional would entitle him to. It was a Thursday when he found himself in the training center once again. Trainers were set up around the chamber and Lorenor was utilizing one of them. None knew he was really an Assassin of the order, but it did not matter. All members of the cathedral were treated equally and allowed to use the centers provided on campus. Ranking members of the church were allowed to access special services in the training center, and Lorenor oft used these services. In fact, he was doing so then when he was training against a higher skill leveled trainer.
As Lorenor trained, he thought of the events of the previous mission. Things had gone dreadfully sour and he'd lost some crucial allies in the war against Iorlan and his comrades. Lorenor moved fluidly, his combat prowess tried and true. He had lived to ripe ol' age and lived to tell about it. He'd seen many dark deeds across history and had his hand in them. He'd ripped a bloody path across the pages of that same history. Lorenor danced against the trainer, the movements were fluid, almost beautiful to look at. Lorenor had developed an intensely brutal combat style that involved risking life and limb for incredible results. Lorenor could regenerate at will by then and because of that, he put his own body in harm's way, turning it into a living weapon. Lorenor raked out with his claws, unarmed, yet armed at the same time. Each of his swipes and slashes were filled with rancor, precise, and quite deadly. The trainer he fought was an equally experienced agent of the cloth, a professional assassin who'd seen many battles in his career. Lorenor trained against such men because he respected them.
Since the beginning, Lorenor had sought the strong in the order to learn from them. Strength was capable of causing fear, and fear was the department of The Grand Primus. As Lorenor trained, he thought of the events of the previous mission. Though he was rewarded for his efforts against their enemy, Lorenor criticized his own performance for the loss of critical members of the assassins. Though the major loss had been the act of a coward working for the enemy, Lorenor still blamed himself and it was a weight that put lead in his heart. As dark as Lorenor's soul was, he was also bound by honour. A long-time presence in The Church of Ethereal Sway, the skilled assassin had grown in talent. Lorenor honoured his friendships and contracts with his superiors, as demon-society was a contract society.
A few hours passed and Lorenor had completed his melee training session for the time being. When he was done, he cleaned himself up, and left the training complex of the church. He no longer received awkward stares from his companions in the fold. As Lorenor walked out of the training complex, The Endless surrounded his form. He could will it to take any material outfit's shape, and often dressed in the clothing of the N'Jallian Spider Magi. Though his practices were generally frowned upon with other members of the fold, his skill was an asset. Lorenor had earned his prestigious status as a professional. Lorenor willed The Endless to take the form of N'Jal High Priest robes. That generated some stares from his companions, but The Grand Primus did not care. He was set in his ways and was no longer concerned with such trivial matters. Lorenor walked to his personal quarters on campus near the cathedral where ranking members received official housing. He sat down on his bed, took a certain set of books and spread them in a certain way in front of his person, and began to chant quietly to his matroness. Lorenor instinctively moved to a lotus position, sitting quietly in the dark and preparing himself for what the hour might bring him. Either finally, a mission, or yet more training, he would be ready.