Seth_Rahl
12-02-06, 03:44 PM
(Obviously this is a solo thread meant for Ifrit alone, but if you have any comments or questions on it just PM me.)
It was nighttime, and Ifrit walked the streets of Scara Brae once more. His destination; the infamous fight club, the Zirnden. Ifrit had heard alot of good things about this particular club, about how it rewarded those who won generously.
Sounded like the perfect place for Ifrit to renew the edge to his blade.
He was in a good mood tonight. His blood red eyes glowed with excitement and he smiled that certain smile preseved specially for certain opponents.
Blood was going to be spilt tonight. Ifrit could feel it in his veins.
He adjusted the giant, demonic falchion upon his back so it was more comfortable. Of late he had not used it, as there had been no need, but he felt that tonight was the night he would prove his skills.
With these thoughts in mind, Ifrit smiled and pushed open the door to the Zirnden.
The room was empty except for a lone man sitting behind a counter. He was middle aged with thinning hair, but beneath his shirt Ifrit could see muscles rippling like waves. Obviously in the past this man had been some sort of bouncer, and Ifrit wondered if this was one of the men he would fight tonight.
As Ifrit entered the room the man did not look up from the page he was reading but simply said, "Wait." Ifrit stopped. The man looked up and Ifrit saw that the man's eyes were black, and flashed as he took appraisel of Ifrit and the giant sword upon his back. "You know how to use that thing?"
Ifrit smiled. Someone who actually evaluated skill around here. "Yeah, I do."
The man nodded to a second door on the side. "Go ahead on in then. Just don't go crying if you get hurt."
Ifrit laughed, an unhuman sound. "Don't worry about that." He could feel his bloodlust rising already.
As Ifrit approached the second door, he realized something; the man hadn't questioned him on his demonic appearence. Ifrit turned to say something to the man but stopped when he realized the man had already turned back to the page he was reading and was no longer acknowledging his prescence. Ifrit gave a mental shrug; maybe some people weren't so biased after all.
And with that he entered the Zirnden.
It was nighttime, and Ifrit walked the streets of Scara Brae once more. His destination; the infamous fight club, the Zirnden. Ifrit had heard alot of good things about this particular club, about how it rewarded those who won generously.
Sounded like the perfect place for Ifrit to renew the edge to his blade.
He was in a good mood tonight. His blood red eyes glowed with excitement and he smiled that certain smile preseved specially for certain opponents.
Blood was going to be spilt tonight. Ifrit could feel it in his veins.
He adjusted the giant, demonic falchion upon his back so it was more comfortable. Of late he had not used it, as there had been no need, but he felt that tonight was the night he would prove his skills.
With these thoughts in mind, Ifrit smiled and pushed open the door to the Zirnden.
The room was empty except for a lone man sitting behind a counter. He was middle aged with thinning hair, but beneath his shirt Ifrit could see muscles rippling like waves. Obviously in the past this man had been some sort of bouncer, and Ifrit wondered if this was one of the men he would fight tonight.
As Ifrit entered the room the man did not look up from the page he was reading but simply said, "Wait." Ifrit stopped. The man looked up and Ifrit saw that the man's eyes were black, and flashed as he took appraisel of Ifrit and the giant sword upon his back. "You know how to use that thing?"
Ifrit smiled. Someone who actually evaluated skill around here. "Yeah, I do."
The man nodded to a second door on the side. "Go ahead on in then. Just don't go crying if you get hurt."
Ifrit laughed, an unhuman sound. "Don't worry about that." He could feel his bloodlust rising already.
As Ifrit approached the second door, he realized something; the man hadn't questioned him on his demonic appearence. Ifrit turned to say something to the man but stopped when he realized the man had already turned back to the page he was reading and was no longer acknowledging his prescence. Ifrit gave a mental shrug; maybe some people weren't so biased after all.
And with that he entered the Zirnden.