Kylin Rouge: IC

[Rayse Valentino]

This thread is for various IC stuffs, including discussion of said IC stuffs, the OOC thread is elsewhere. I just want to get this down for some closure.

History: While most of it is factual, some of the details may seem revisionist, which is why I'm sticking to the general gist of what happened. It's very brief and probably misses a lot of detail, but it's concise and to the point.

Silence Sei and I thought up our two characters together. He pulled a few names out of Saga Frontier, a favorite game of his, and combined them in various forms, like the character Kylin with the character Rouge. They were just names though, nothing from those two characters were copied. Kylin's appearance was based off my avatar I was going to use (some Seed avatar from Suikoden II. Thoracis also had a Seed avatar but they looked completely different.) His clothing was based off Raziel from Soul Reaver, or rather his shawl was, and then he jused had normal shirt and pants. Kylin actually had a bandana, hazel eyes, and brown hair before I found that avatar. This is really boring and trivial though, the point is that I thought it woudl be cool to make a character using Shadow Magic, something that is usually attributed to evil and shiftiness, but make the character a True Good character. I think he may have been one of the only pacifists of Althanas that was forced to fight all the time.

Kylin's signature weapons were his wraith-blade, materialized from shadow magics and stronger than most swords, and his beam of pure, searing shadow from the tip of his finger called Shadow Gun.

--Beginning--

Kylin Rouge grew up in Minas Drantrak, a small town at the base of a mountain hidden from the world by Shadow Magic. He grew up with Silence Sei Orlouge, who was his childhood friend, but at a very young age the Orlouges were driven out of Minas Drantrak, where they sought refuge in the town of Light Magic, Chateau Drantrak. Presumably, they were accepted there due to their mutual hate of the Shadow Caste. The Orlouges refusal to partake in the Trial of Shadow probably caused their exulsion.

Minas Drantrak and Chateau Drantrak used to be friendly to each other, but a war erupted over a misunderstanding that ended in a stalemate. There used to be a third city, which housed Sei's Tomb, for whom 'Silence' Sei Orlouge was named after, but it was destroyed in the war, unearthing the tomb. The Trial of Shadow and The Trial of Light are tests in which the lineage of the town defenders are expected to pass. They are trained their entire lives and at age 18 are expected to enter the trial and overcome it, like some sort of mandatory military draft. The difference between these magics and normal magic is that the very essence of the magic combines with the user. He BECOMES Shadow or Light Magic, and it changes their lives. They can materialize it to become weapons, armor, projectiles. The odd thing is, Shadow and Light are toxic to each other. This probably didn't help inter-city relations back when they were friendly.

Anyway, Kylin was finally 18 and ready to take the test. His elder brother Terry (age 26) had taken it and now it was his turn. Terry was very famous in the town for completing the trial in a record time, so people thought Kylin would get through it no problem. The trouble was: Once Terry had completed it, Kylin's father was very lenient with his training. He was not as prepared as he should've been, and he really didn't want to do it in the first place. It usually takes a few hours to do the test, but Kylin took an entire day, and barely came out of it alive. His father's pride was tarnished, and denying the guilt he suffered for not training Kylin properly, he thought the trial itself was broken. It was forbidden to enter the trial a second time, but one night, he went in anyway. Later that night, Kylin awoke to his father coming into the house, his body mutated into something alien, and materializing weapons at his mother. Terry was living with his wife, so Kylin was forced to stab his father just in time to stop him from hurting his mother. Kylin's grasp on Shadow Magic was lacking, and he overdid it, tearing up his father's insides. Horrified at what he had done, Kylin ran away from home. His father returned to sanity in Kylin's mother's arms, and he had a look of relief on his face. He told her that it wasn't Kylin's fault right before he died. Nonetheless, that is what Kylin believed. He vowed never to return, for the cost of murder was execution.

The reason for this chaos wasn't explained for many OOC years. Hell, I didn't even have a reason for it for many years.

--Where Actual Posting Begins--

At this point, Kylin wandered through the rubble of the third city and saw smoke coming from Sei's Tomb, where the grown up Silence Sei himself lived. Something happened at this point, the two were supposed to explore Althanas together, but Silence Sei disappeared off the face of Althanas for over half a year, so I decided they never met in the first place. I forget if they ended up doing anything, probably not.

Kylin did various random things, trying to find his purpose in the world, but there were always problems. For one thing, he didn't want to hurt people, this excluded him from participating in 95% of the various events in Althanas, including battles. Although, his first Althanas battle he participated in was also (maybe) a first for another, Devon Starslayer. Wandering into a monastery in The Citadel in the pouring rain broke and hungry, Kylin and Devon were offered food and shelther for a battle. Kylin was against it, but Devon insisted it would be a spar and good practice, and his warmness was very hard to deny. Kylin was absolutely entranced by Devon, and he agreed to spar. Of course, the monks wanted weaponry, so Kylin materialized his wraith-blade and Devon used his signature sword. Devon was very good, and Kylin once again lost control of his power and sent a shadow bolt toward the spectators. Devon jumped in and took the blow, and a woman may have become enamoured to him for saving her. Devon knew it wasn't Kylin's fault and the two became really good friends.

I forget what happens next. Kylin may have been involved in some stuff, but I'm not sure. All the tournaments he joined except for LCC were a bad idea, since there's no reason for someone like Kylin to join events were people beat each other into unconsciousness/death. Kylin was very naive at first, he stuck to his morals and really was True Good alignment. He would time and time again put himself at risk for others, often people that were strangers to him. I really hope someone remembers anything that happens during this period.

--The Purifiers and Alerar--

Devon or someone else had invited Kylin to join one of the rising stars of Power Groups. He liked the idea of a group of people who could cleanse or "purify" the evils of this world. Kylin was naive and had not considered the implications of such an organisation, but he was willing to find and help people in need. He met a lot of people within these walls, such as leader Findelfin, friend Renneau Aequitas, and just about everyone else in the group was very open and friendly. He felt like he finally found a home. After undertaking various charities and finding himself some responsibility, he was given the opportunity for perhaps one of the greatest responsibilities of all: Alerar. Kylin knew the implications of this, that he had to hurt people in order to save others, but he was not as naive was he used to be, and the Purifiers had changed his outlook on life. He now though that Good had to be active, not just reactive.

Alerar was a very shifty region. It was hard to tell what went on in that region, but it was a scary place, as many political leaders who ventured in as diplomats or messengers never returned alive. People though it might be better to leave it alone, despite the suffering of the people there. The Purifiers were not going to stand for this suffering, and sent various agents into Alerar to hook up and help with the secret rebelling factions. Kylin was one of them, and made quite a grand entrance into the city of Ettermire. Once again my memory is fuzzy, but Kylin hooked up with the resistance (lead by NPCs by Redrick, who was the best DM ever) with other characters involved such as Edmund Lorisiac and (whoever Artificial Human 21 was supposed to be.) Edmund took a more comedic approach to gaining entrance into the city, and his humor would become a great foil to Kylin's seriousness. The Queen of Ettermire (Redrick) had hired (several player characters) to fight the rebellion as well. All in all, it was a pretty good story, the best Althanas had seen up to that point, as many many threads were spawned along the same storyline.

Around the time of the LCC, Redrick vanished. I forget what happened exactly, but all activity in Redrick's story had stopped. This is where a little revisionism comes into play to justify Kylin's participation in the LCC: The Queen had captured them and forced them into the tournament to get them away from Alerar. More on this in the next section.

--The Do-Gooders and The LCC--

Before all that, the team of Edmund Lorisiac and Kylin Rouge had been forced into the LCC as simply Do-Gooders. All competitors were forced to stay in Lornius for the duration of the tournament, so they couldn't get out. The Queen of Ettermire probably thought it was easier to do this than continue to sacrifice hundreds of men. She also managed to capture (Artificial Human 21), who was a very important entity of the rebellion (I'm making this up completely, but Redrick disappeared while they were escorting AH21 and it would make sense that her capture allowed Alerar to mobilize its army as the rebellion lost its most prized possession). Kylin wanted to just forfeit and try to convince the guards to let him go, but Edmund had thought it would be fun to participate. While Kylin protested, Edmund went into the first round alone and won. He convinced Kylin to help, and Kylin obliged, not wanting to leave his friend out there alone. The second round was basically walking around in the dark and accidentally knocking over a pillar that crushed the other team that was walking around in the dark.

The third round, or at least I think it was the third round, I'm not sure if there was a forfeit somewhere by the other team, but it was against Thoracis and his buddy (Redrick). Other forces at work forced Edmund and Redrick to abstain, even though they eventually escaped and tried to get to the arena in time. LCC decided it would be a one on one, Thoracis vs Kylin, in a field of snow with some scattered pine trees. It was in this battle that Kylin learned to truly fear for his life, knowing the absurdity of dying in such a tournament. He was always prepared to die for others, but for himself? By himself? The thought filled him with terror. Although, he later found his courage and fought Thoracis, and found that they were quite evenly matched. Thoracis and his ice magic were deflected by Kylin's shadow magic, and vice versa. Before the fight would end, the match was concluded as Redrick managed to get to the arena. The LCC staff decided to declare Do-Gooders the winners to prevent the chance for Redrick's team to win.

It is unknown why the LCC staff orchestrated such a matchup, but Thoracis and (whoever Redrick was) proved very valuable to certain entities. It was no mystery that The Purifiers were later destroyed by Thoracis, and Redrick's (character) was probably very important to Alerar. Maybe they were trying to motivate Thoracis toward his eventual deed.

The final matchup was against Mist and Sorjax in an old-fashioned stadium. It was the championship match, and Kylin was constantly wondering why he had prevailed this far. Perhaps he was much stronger than he originally thought, maybe he had the power to do more with himself than help a few people every now and then. Kylin was truly ready to fight this time, to end this stupid tournament and get back to Alerar. They were fearsome opponents who used deadly attacks, and Kylin was barely able to survive his onslaught. He managed to fend him off, but he was on the verge of death afterwards. Edmund had fought Sorjax and mostly just pissed him off with tricks. Sorjax had no sense of humor obviously, but no matter what he did, Edmund wouldn't fall. When Sorjax saw Mist defeated, it further pushed him over the edge, but he still couldn't knock down Edmund, who was now enraged over Kylin's condition. Nobody had ever seen Edmund so angry, or hell, angry at all before then. Kylin fired one last shadow beam at Sorjax before passing out, and Edmund used everything he had, but Sorjax just barely and finally defeated them. Sorjax would forever know not to underestimate these two men, one of which who managed to defeat Mist, and the other who wouldn't go down no matter what he did.

--Interlude--

THIS NEXT PART PROBABLY RELATES TO THE ALTHANAS TIMELINE: When Kylin returned to Alerar, he found the rebellion had failed and there was nothing more he or The Purifiers could do. Receiving Devon's message, he returned to The Purifiers HQ but found that it had been mostly vacated. They had probably set out to defend Raiaera, and a new request had come in just as Kylin had come back. One of the people still remaining was Renneau.

The message contained another war and a cry to help from a rebelling faction. Kylin didn't want to fail again like he did with Alerar, and with his new confidence from the LCC, he and Renneau went to investigate.

Note: This would be the last anyone would see either of these two characters ICly, as for all intents and purposes, they vanished off the face of Althanas.

--The Miasma--

Renneau and Kylin made their way to this location, which was at the center of a huge crater. Along the way, they saved a woman from bandits, who had a pendant with a strange purple shard in it. Kylin felt very uneasy whenever this pendant was around. They made their way to the wreck of a huge, gigantic castle that was mostly in ruins at the center of the crater. There they met strange people that lived in the underground caverns of the castle. They were guarding The Miasma, a large crystal that has been said to have brought destruction to the large city-state that existed before the crater. A warlord had learned of its destructive power, and wanted it for himself. Kylin thought for sure that this had something to do with the Alerar/Raiaeran conflict, and agreed to help. Renneau also agreed to help. Basically, there was a huge battle throughout the castle, and Renneau/Kylin dispatched hundreds of soldiers. They were finally pushed back into the final room, The Crystal Room, due to the sheer numbers of the enemy. Kylin was physically and emotionally spent, he hated killing so many people, it was driving him insane. The crystal fed off of Kylin's emotions and gave him a huge burst of power, with which Kylin unleased an attack that decimated most of the army. The crystal then began going crazy and sucked Kylin into a dimensional rift.

500 years into the past, a tall woman in her late 20s with long, dark hair was conducting experiments with the same crystal. Kylin was dumped through a temporal portal unconscious, and she took him in with her. Kylin had no idea what was going on, but the woman know that Kylin was a Shadow Warrior, the same as her. She was also a refugee from Minas Drantrak, but not for murder. Kylin found the city-state entirely intact and spend time recovering there, under the woman's loving care. It was the first time Kylin had feelings for anyone. He learned that he was in the past and that the crystal was going to be unveiled to the public as a new energy source after thorough investigation of its properties, but Kylin thought this would end in disaster. In fact, he knew exactly that it would.

(Everything after this is made up. Aequitas had a seperate thread for part 3 in which he and the villagers were captured and he tried to escape. Although as some of you know, Aequitas vanished off the face of the internet, so let's assume Renneau actually died in the attack and the rest of the villagers were slaughtered.)

One day far away from the city, he told her the truth.

Of course, she knew already, but didn't care. She was actually a mad scientist who had been outcast from Minas Drantrak for experimenting with forbidden techniques of Shadow Magic. She thought that she could control the crystal with her research, and use it to take over the city-state and then the rest of the continent with its power. She had betrayed Kylin and they fought in a field of white flowers under a clear blue sky. Her advanced use of shadow magic made it very hard for Kylin to even get close to her. She could remotely create spikes of darkness anywhere within 50 yards of herself and throw them at Kylin at insane speeds. He did everything he could, but he was subdued by her. She decided to spare him, although it is unknown why. Maybe she had feelings for him too.

When Kylin awoke, he saw the crater in the distance. It was too late, and she was gone. He went to the center of the crater and saw the familiar structure, the castle that had somehow weathered the blast. There was a crystal there, and try as he might, it only absorbed his shadowy blasts. Getting close to it, a temporal portal opened, there to take him back to the present he presumed. He wondered why he came here in the first place, as he was once again unable to prevent the tragedy that transpired. In essence, he had a crisis of faith.

He walked away from the crystal and chose to train for 10 years to perfect his magic and most importantly, to research this Miasma that reacted so strongly to his Shadow Magic.

--The Present--

Kylin returned to the present, older and with long hair down past his shoulders. He had completed mastered Shadow Magic and found out the nature of Miasma. His power was equivalent of a Level 30 character. His feelings seemed to be gone, nothing but a crude husk of power shadowy power remained. The old Kylin was gone. He killed the warlord and the entire army without remorse and retrieved the piece of Miasma, which no longer affected him.

Travelling the world, he retrieved all the pieces with his new sense of detecting them, and made his way to the final place of the final shard: his hometown. There he met everyone again, who were shocked to see him so much older. Regardless, they were ready to forgive him but Kylin didn't care. He made his way to the Trial and the townspeople were quick to defend their laws. They said that Kylin would be put to death if he wanted to go in there again. Kylin took one step inside and all of the Shadow Warriors in the village, including the regretful Terry Rouge, engaged him. Kylin managed to kill all of them, once again remorseless, and went inside. He got to the end and his suspicions were confirmed: It was a shard of the Miasma. It released the dormant powers of the bloodlines of the townspeople. He knew that Chateau Drantrak didn't have a shard, because the Trial of Light was a different method of attaining Light magic that using a shard of the Miasma. Kylin left the trial, and using his power, destroyed all traces of his clan, including his mother and all his childhood friends, and the buried the entrance to the trial under a mountain of rubble.

Essentially, Kylin had taken the "Greater Good" notion a little too far. He had gone from an active do-gooder to a preemptive one, doing whatever was necessary to secure the future. The reason for all this madness would come next.

--The End--

(I'm borrowing a bit here, any if anyone has a problem with it they can express their concerns. I don't think this is too out of line.)

Long ago, perhaps during the time of The War of the Tap, there existed many powerful entities, and something known as The Eternal Tap. The Shadow and Light clans existed and were much more numerous in this time period, but it was also in this time period that most of them were destroyed and the surviving few were forced into hiding and concealed their existence from the world. With widespread research into various magics, Light and Shadow were among them. One man found a way to absorb the essense of both Light and Shadow, which were naturally toxic to each other, and in doing so went mad with power. He was responsible for much of the destruction during this time period, and the Shadow and Light clans brought it upon themselves to end this nightmare. They found him in a secret laboratory, working on a way to make himself a True God. He had nearly completed The Miasma, a crystal that fed off of Shadow and Light magics. The Warriors, under tutelage from very famous forces during that time period, possibly even The Forgotten Ones, destroyed The Miasma before it was completed, and the resultant energy caused tremendous damage. It killed everything in a huge area, including most of the Light and Shadow clan territories, leaving few left, but the man himself remained alive due to his own immense power. The temporal nature of the crystal flung him through time, and he hasn't been seen since.

Kylin researched the Miasma and found all this out, and he knew when he was going to appear. In fact, the way the Miasma shards have been reacting, including the transformation of his own father, meant that the man who started this all was about to return. Kylin had in the past decided to take initiative and defeat the man by summoning him out early (maybe only a few months before when he was actually going to return), and completing The Miasma and using it against him. In fact, he know completing the Miasma would instantly summon him early and directly to him. He went to an ancient altar and put all the pieces into it, and completed the process by which he restored the crystal, which despite the size of the shards (a lot of them were really big), the end product was a tiny sphere no larger than a marble. The man appeared (i'm never any good with names) and laughed about how easy this was about to be. He thought Kylin was just going to hand the crystal over to him. Instead, Kylin absorbed the crystal into himself.

The man thought this was also hilarious, as since the crystal had both properties of Light and Darkness, it was toxic to shadow-only users and light-only users. As such, the man was the only one who could use it anyway. Yet, in the past, Kylin had found a way to use it. The man was shocked upon this revelation, but Kylin was bluffing. He had only found out how to delay the toxic effects for a few minutes, but it was enough time for the final conflict. Kylin now had enough power to stop him, and stop him he did. An epic fight ensued with the entire world at stake. Taking him high into the atmosphere, time ran out and Kylin's body couldn't take the tremendous power anymore. For a few seconds all over the world, it turned to night in places where there was light, and there was light in places were there was night. Kylin knew that with him gone, there would be nobody left to inherit shadow powers, therefore nobody could become a Light/Shadow master as this man had become. He figured at least the Light users would be able to have positive connotations to his powers, providing Light to a world in darkness. In his last moments, he wished that none of this ever happened, that he existed in a world without The Miasma and did not have to become the cold, emotionless man that he was forced to become.

All that remained was a tiny light-blue shard that fell to the earth, a new crystal unlike The Miasma. The world would never know how close it came to the brink of destruction, nobody would be able to tell the tale of Kylin Rouge.

(note: I'm aware I don't explain how Kylin found out how to use the crystal and its history, but it's irrelevant information, details nobody cares about.

note2: also, there may have been events that happened ICly after LCC with Kylin and others but before The Miasma. I don't how how to explain this either. Kylin would've certainly been involved in the war if he wasn't drawn away by another force.)

[Thoracis]

Just some fun notes on this, both IC and OOC... (Mostly concerning Kylin and Thoracis)

The Alerar storyline ending around the original LCC was mostly due to that fact that it was around that time IRL that Redrick started attending the police academy. Due to his new lack of time, he decided to focus on the LCC, which he had two characters in ((Redrick, of course, and Edmund Lorisiac)). It was a long time before many people realized Redrick and Edmund were written by the same person. Anyways, I think it was a good move by him to not post in that semi-final, especially considering that we're close friends. To this day that's one of the better one on one fights I ever had. I lost it by a point, in the character category.

After the LCC is when things in Alerar took a serious turn for the worse. It became apparent that the Purifier presence in Alerar had a lot of Raiaeran influence (Findelfin, Devon, and others were primarily Raiaeran characters) and the Queen sent Lord General Vordutin (Redrick NPC) and myself to deal with the Raiaerans. There was a battle in the Raiaeran city of Valinatal and Devon had Thoracis killed and the Aleranian army was routed. (After this was a big personal storyline that brought Thoracis back.) Around this time the original Featured Quest started. It was a joint effort between Raiaera and Alerar that Elrundir, Redrick, and too many other people to name put a lot of work into. It was a multi-thread multi-forum quest that around 40-50 people participated in and that much of the Althanas history still has roots in.

Anyway, after the failure at Valinatal (And the failure of the FQ to finish) the Queen shunned Thoracis as a failure and he set out for revenge on the Purifiers. This came to my PG, The Grand Army. There were some nice quirks here as well, because Silence Sei was Thoracis' second in command and him and Kylin had a history with the mystic stuff. Everything culminated with a huge Gisela-style clan war at the Purifier HQ and ended with Thoracis' army destroying the Dome of Purity despite their OOC win.

The good times we had.

[Skie and Avery]

And you forgot the brief stints and unfinished threads with metallicakylin. =P

[Rayse Valentino]

i was trying to reply to this but made a thread in the wrong forum, wow...

anyway, before i pass out, i just want to say i had no idea that redrick was edmund. that guy is a bastard, he was always praising edmund and shit and i didn't suspect a thing. i guess it just shows how well he can adapt to various writing styles, i miss the guy.

it's a shame that all that stuff got deleted, though. if i can think of something to do i'd totally hail the coming of a new featured quest or something. well, maybe if i lay off the booze.

[The Architect]

I'm The Architect, and under the new Power Group system I've started the House of Sora. We have eighteen active members playing in eight active group quests (and a couple of secret missions :wink ). Like you the House of Sora has been looking for a scenario to involve itself in.

I've read your OOC and IC threads. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me like you're looking for world events to sink your teeth into. As you can see we've substantially dropped in scale. I don't think we even have 40-50 people to pull of a multi thread multi forum quest like Thoracis mentioned. Dispite that we do have plenty of stuff going on. Maybe I'm telling you what you've already looked into, but I thought it might be a usefull tool to introduce myself with.

Starting in Corone, there's a small Civil War erupting due to the assasination of two government officials. Letho is leading the progression of that storyline along with some people you may remember like Christina Bredith (aka Elrundir) and Izvilivin (aka Cyrus the Virus). Others are involved too, but Letho's keeping it limited for now.

Raiaera's stagnant due to the absence of its regional writer, Sighter Tnailog. It's features such as the Istien University are still available, but seldom used.

Alerar's new regional writer, Wraith, seems to be showing promise. The technology used for the airships, is now being applied to construct a railsystem. The queen has been assasinated and her brother is now in power. The culprits are still being pursued.

Salvar's writer, Ashiakin, also seems to be absent, but he stuck around long enough to forge an aliance between Salvar and Alerar. That rail system I mentioned is rumored to be bi national bewteen the two countries.

Fallien has just recovered from a civil war of sorts. A siege on its capital has just ended and the city is devistated.

Deheathain is a new region in which players simply find entertainment in exploring.

[Sighter Tnailog]

Just for the record, the Purifier presence in Alerar didn't exist -- we were centered in the Coronian Montanas. Don't try to get out of your inexcusable attack on our soil that easily, Mister!

[Rayse Valentino]

I get bored and get revisionist. Rather than making any new threads I'll just keep it here.

You guys can post about anything I put here, I don't mind. I'm trying to play with various perspectives and the way a character's persona influences the very narration, even in third person.

[Rayse Valentino]

His bones in his legs were cracked as he pulled his body up against every fiber of his good judgement. His left leg was drenched in blood, a wetness covered his entire left side. A bone stuck out of his left arm. His face had various streams of crimson running down it; the same color as his hair, the same color as his eyes. He couldn't give up, he couldn't stop now. He slowly raised his right hand, which was shaking violently as it ascended. He curled every finger but the index and thumb, extending each as far as he could and pointing at his target with the index. A weak grin was on his face, his eyes half-closed from the exhaustion and his vision blurry from the pain. He had to at least try to make it. He aimed as best he could at the hooded, pale figure, and a black beam burst out from his index finger, flying at his opponent with sharpness and intensity. Kylin Rouge fell back onto the ground and started dreaming of better days.

* * *

He had hurt his friend! It was okay for them to do unspeakable things to Edmund, but when his dearest were the targets of these horrors, he couldn't take it. Not only that, but Sorjax even had the gall to mock him! This pale-skinned freak was going down; happy-go-lucky carefree Edmund Lorisiac was pissed.

* * *

The damn clown was annoying. For some reason, he was now faster, much more mischievous as before! Still, he was no match for Sorjax. Pillars of light erupted from the ground and Edmund barely dodged them. Edmund, with his knife, was swiping at but missing the pale magician. Then, something unspeakable happened. Something dark, fast, and hot rushed past Sorjax, almost decapitating him if it was any closer. He could feel the intense heat from it even though it didn't touch him.

"What the?!" he said, looking over to Kylin right before he fell down. "The one who beat Mist..."

Edmund, taking advantage of this confusion, charged Sorjax from behind but was met with a kick to the ribs, followed by a sharp jab to the jaw. Sorjax was just too fast. Edmund collapsed on the ground, out like a rock.

Sorjax was still preoccupied with the strange young man who somehow bested his partner, "Someone who could beat Mist... ?"

Of course, there was no one left to give him an answer now. That final act of defiance inspired a wonder in Sorjax, so he decided to spare both of them.

"Kylin Rouge, was it? I'll let you go for now... but for what you did to Mist, I'll settle the score someday."

Sorjax was hopeful. To fight what could possibly be an amazingly powerful opponent thrilled him. He expected Kylin to return the favor someday; the only way a warrior knew how.

[Rayse Valentino]

The next is something a little ongoing, testing out a few things and so forth. Something to do when I'm bored, but obviously not really applicable for a solo quest.

The next thing he knew, he was in a white field. Snow was up to his knees, thick clouds hung overhead, and light specks of white gently floated down from above. There was no light in sight, yet it was clearly day. The clouds cast a dull shadow over the world, the same way Thoracis Rakarth had. Where was he? This was a question he could not answer. However, the coldness gave him comfort, so he wasn't too concerned about the whens and whys. This strange, whimsical comfort was shattered when he saw a figure directly in front of his line of vision, slowly approaching him from a distance. He thought, who else could be out here in this weather? There were a few trees around, and with some clumped together almost out of his field of vision. It was a familiar sight. Isn't this...?

"Thoracis!" an echo rang out, piercing through and at the same time engulfing Thoracis. The echo was of a familiar voice, a voice he had not heard in years.

The figure continued approaching, and soon it was clear who it was. The red-haired young man was unchanged as ever, even still sporting the same gear as the last time Thoracis saw him. It was Kylin Rouge, the only man he ever lost to in the Lornius Corporate Championship. He still wondered what would've happened if he hadn't been disqualified due to the absence of his partner. If they had just let them finish their fight.

Kylin's voice continued, "Is that really you? I think I see your robes..."

Thoracis could hardly believe the body he now occupied was recognizable in any shape or form. He had been through ordeals, and had to pay the price for them. Yet, Kylin was the same as before. How is it that he weathered the storm of time so well?

"I've been wandering for quite some time! Are you lost as well?"

The insolence of him to even suggest such a thing. Thoracis was exactly where he wanted to be, he was a man of his own destiny. There was no place he couldn't make his own, and he certainly was not lost in his own damn element.

Then, the masked Thoracis Rakarth spoke, "I would not take such a friendly tone with me, or did you forget what I did to your precious Dome?"

The crimson-eyed young man pulled back, a bit incredulous at the statement.

"What are you talking about?" he asked naively.

[Rayse Valentino]

Again, for testing purposes, here is the same thing in the first person. The post preceding this will be continued at a later time, or maybe this one if it looks better.

The next thing I knew, I was in a white field. Snow was up to my knees, thick clouds hung overhead, and light specks of white gently floated down from above. There was no light in sight, yet it was clearly day. The clouds cast a dull shadow over the world, the same way I had. Where am I? This was a question I could not answer. However, the coldness gave me comfort, so I wasn't too concerned about the whens and whys. This strange, whimsical comfort was shattered when I saw a figure directly in front of my line of vision, slowly approaching me from a distance. I thought, who else could be out here in this weather? There were a few trees around, and with some clumped together almost out of his field of vision. It was a familiar sight. Isn't this...?

"Thoracis!" an echo rang out, piercing through and at the same time engulfing me. The echo was of a familiar voice, a voice I had not heard in years.

The figure continued approaching, and soon it was clear who it was. The red-haired young man was unchanged as ever, even still sporting the same gear as the last time I saw him. It was Kylin Rouge, the only man I ever lost to in the Lornius Corporate Championship. I still wondered what would've happened if I hadn't been disqualified due to the absence of his partner. If they had just let us finish our fight...

Kylin's voice continued, "Is that really you? I think I see your robes..."

I could hardly believe the body I now occupied was recognizable in any shape or form. I had been through ordeals, and had to pay the price for them. Yet, Kylin was the same as before. How is it that he weathered the storm of time so well?

"I've been wandering for quite some time! Are you lost as well?"

The insolence of him to even suggest such a thing. I was exactly where I wanted to be, I am a man of my own destiny. There was no place I couldn't make my own, and I certainly was not lost in my own damn element.

Then, I finally spoke, "I would not take such a friendly tone with me, or did you forget what I did to your precious Dome?"

The crimson-eyed young man pulled back, a bit incredulous at the statement.

"What are you talking about?" he asked naively.

[Abomination]

As Jame lead the dwarf deeper into the tunnel, the drow sprinted forward to try to follow but was abruptly stopped when Rayse rushed out and slammed him into the wall.

Rayse grinned, "Your opponent is right here."

Nightfly, originally startled by the attack, quickly recovered and even manage to get Rayse off of him by grabbing onto one of his curved rapiers and thrusting it upward, causing The Contractor to back off in short order. The dark elf knew better than to turn his back to Rayse again. The plan was a success: Rayse and Jame had separated this unstoppable duo, but that didn't make them any less dangerous individually. The real battle was only beginning.

The drow drew a second rapier, identical the other one, and ran at Rayse, trying to make his blades connect with Rayse's flesh. When he swept across, Rayse retreated, and when he thrusted forward, Rayse sidestepped. His feet danced a chorus of speed, his body moved with fluid motion. However, it was not a performance he could repeat. He was losing.

SWIPE! The blade barely cut through his arm as he sidestepped. He tried to make some distance, but the drow kept closing in. The longer this went on, the more chances Nightfly had to close the deal. So, during a dodge he reached into his pocket and lit a mini-molotov, throwing it onto the ground between them. The explosion separated the two, but the smoke quickly subsided. Most of the shards flew in the direction of the drow, but he seemed to have evaded all of them. As the last of the smoke cleared, he saw the drow in a defensive position roughly ten feet away while Rayse was holding onto another mini-molotov, holding it in front of him defiantly. The drow now knew the potential of these things, so he didn't dare come closer.

"What's wrong? And here I thought you wanted to kill me."

Nightfly relaxed his muscles, letting his rapiers slide painlessly back into their sheaths at his sides. He pulled something off his back that was covered in a cloth, and unwrapped it. It was a bow! Rayse took a step backwards, unnerved that he could have miscalculated this. Before he could make another move, there was an arrow pointed at him; in fact, three of them all held in place with one of the drow's hands. Not good. The arrows were loosed, and Rayse was sent scrambling away from their trajectories. He jumped, hopped, and ducked under the rain of arrows until several of them passed by his face before him and implanted themselves into the wall at his right, trapping him. Shit! He put his hands up to block his face at the last second. Although, the arrows passed right through his hands and then through his head, hitting the wall behind him.

He blinked. What just happened? The drow, hesitating only for a moment, released another volley of arrows that similarly passed through The Contractor. Then, he stopped, keeping his hands steady with the next set but not firing them. When the arrows went through his hands, he saw that part of his hand turn to fire to let the arrow through. That means... was this an ability of his? His intuition told him it was true, and that was good enough for him. Suddenly defiant, he stood tall and held his right hand in front, palm out as if inviting the drow to take his best shot.

He taunted, "Why stop? We were just getting started!"

Nightfly responded in kind, firing off one more arrow that whizzed through the air, impaling Rayse's right hand. He stood silent for a moment, his face covered in blood and staring directly at the arrowhead sticking out of the back of his hand. Then, the pain caught up with him. Shiiiiiiiiiiit! He ducked and jumped, dodging the next set of arrows. He rolled across the ground, snapping the wooden tail of the arrow, causing another shock of pain to run through his hand. Damn it! Why did it stop? Was there a limit? Whatever it was, this 'ability' of his was completely unreliable. He was still holding his molotov with his left hand, so he immediately lit it and tossed it at the ground between him and the drow.

Using the time gained by the molotov, Rayse pulled the arrow out of his hand, grinding his teeth and wincing in pain. He fought back the tears of pain in his eyes. He didn't feel very manly right now, but he didn't have time to cry about it. Deciding to himself to get rid of that bow, he ran into the smoke and found the drow on the other side, arrow pointed right at his face. Rayse thought that it was all over now, but he couldn't stop his legs; he couldn't stop his momentum. The arrow was loosed, but it missed, allowing Rayse to close the distance and grab the bow. Apparently, one of the shards hit the drow this time. He didn't know what happened exactly, but the drow's aiming left eye was closed with a red gash across it. Using the bow as a leverage point, he kicked the drow in the chest and sent him flying backwards. He broke the bow in half over his knee, and tossed its remains aside.

His right hand twitched as he reached for his knife, and as he grabbed its handle he found he couldn't pull it out of his sheath without an insufferable amount of pain. So, he pulled it out with his left hand. Of course, he wasn't left-handed, so now his advantage with knives was all but lost. Although, with the drow's missing eye, maybe they were back on an even keel. The drow recovered quickly, his expression unchanging. Doesn't that guy have emotions? He looked annoyed, but it was still the same face he saw before. The only difference now was that closed eye. Rayse reached into his pocket for another molotov, but after searching his other pocket as well, found them both empty. This day just keeps getting better. He held his knife in front of him, holding up his right hand as well, although he knew he couldn't use it for much.

The drow, however, seemed to take an altogether different position. It was the kind of stance you'd see a pool player take, right before knocking the last ball into the hole. Rayse thought he was prepared for anything, but he was wrong. The drow disappeared before his very eyes, and before he knew it, he felt a new pain: One in his left side. A huge gash suddenly appeared, spraying blood and nearly sending The Contractor reeling forward. What the?! He saw something out of the corner of his eye, and looked behind him, to see the drow standing in the same position, except now on the opposite side of him. Did he teleport or something? No... Rayse knew what this was. It was pure speed.

[Abomination]

The drow bent down and took the same position as before; that of a pool player. Rayse, still not having come up with how to counter it, could only guard his upper body and face, allowing his lower body to once again be vulnerable to this unique attack. He tried to watch close, but it was in vain as the drow vanished once more and a new pain emerged in his other side, except this time the drow cut a little closer to the center, and left the blade in. Rayse doubled back and fell to his knees, quickly pulled the blade out in case it was poisoned. It was one of the drow's rapiers. Blood rushed out of his body through the hole in his abs, and he instinctively wanted to reach for some bandages. Although, they were all in his traveling bag. As he looked at the bag that was several feet in front of him, holding his chest with his right hand, he got an idea. He got up painfully, almost audibly groaning and his body shaking like he had a cold, he turned around and once again put his hands up to brace himself. Although, this time he didn't wait for the drow to take his position.

He did something unthinkable. He bent his body, fighting back the pain, and held his knife in the same way that the drow was holding his remaining rapier. Nightfly made so little external facial movements that even a tiny change could detail entire feelings, and that was what Rayse felt. He felt that Nightfly was concerned about what Rayse was going to do. He was going to copy him. He probably thinks I can't do it. I'll show him that you don't fuck with me. The blood loss and pain was starting to make his vision blurry, but he had to make this count. The fact the drow only had one eye left was probably the reason those attacks didn't simply go through his heart, but he couldn't count on being lucky anymore. He lowered himself, and charged forward. The drow was roughly twenty feet away, and he felt like he wasn't getting any closer to him. How the hell did the drow do it? How did he achieve that speed? Rayse ran, opening his entire body up to a possibly finishing blow by the drow, but before the drow could attack, Rayse disappeared into flames.

The drow's eyes widened for once, a look of genuine surprise coming across his face. He thought that Rayse had, with only two looks, copied his entire technique. He was both right and wrong. Rayse was attempting to copy him, but in doing so he created his own technique. He was gone in a flash of fire, and reappeared in a flash of fire, nearly blinding the drow as Rayse stabbed forward. Although, his inexperience and sheer luck ran out just then, as the drow used his superior speed to dodge out of the way, merely taking a cut on his neck for all of Rayse's troubles. The drow backed up, holding his neck with his hand. A small stream of blood poured down his neck, but it wasn't anything serious.

Rayse was winded. He tried to follow up his attack with several thrusts and slashes, but the drow was too good at parrying. The Contractor found himself on the defense, trying to desperately avoid contact with the rapier's sharp blade. He backed up, farther and farther, his vision almost failing him. The drow was visibly angry now, and he was sloppy. That technique of his must've taken his entire life to master, and Rayse did it just like that. In a small way, he was happy to finally get some emotion out of the dark elf. He continued backing up, and in the drow's rage he found an opportunity to parry his blade and knock it out of his dark elf fingers. Although, the force of the attack sent his own blade flying out of his hands. The drow was unfettered by the loss of his weapon, he simply resorted to beating Rayse senseless. Now without the risk of being decapitated, Nightfly simply closed the distance between them and stuck his fist into Rayse's face, his gut, and everywhere in-between. Rayse felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. The drow lifted his right leg up and spun around, knocking Rayse several feet and onto his back.

Rayse turned his body around, so that he was lying on his chest. He could see the drow marching towards him, fire in his dark elven eyes. Rayse lifted his right hand off the ground, which was shaking violently, and pulled his middle finger back and placed his thumb on top of it. The pain of using this hand was unbearable, but he knew that this was the only one he could reliably aim with to make his one shot. Closing his left eye, he aimed. The drow didn't notice what was happening due to his rage, and that was what Rayse was aiming for. He let loose one of his fiery sparks, and it went into his traveling bag, which was now directly next to the drow. Both Rayse's and the drow's eyes followed the spark along its trajectory, and by the time the drow noticed where it was going, it was too late.

BOOM! Rayse covered his head with his arms, his body being hit by hundreds of bits of debris. Smoke filled the entirety of the mine shaft, and the glass, oil-filled lights attached to the ceiling burst into shards and went out. At the end of it, Rayse lifted his head, squinting to see through the new fog. Right in front of him was a black, crispy drow ear with a gold ring still pierced through it.

[Rhythm]

Can't even begin to tell how far in the future this would conceivably take place.

As the smoke cleared, two darts shot out from within the misty debris and punctured the light-emitting devices on the shoulders of the large, armored robot. The nanite-disabling red light stopped. The little girl on the ground sat up, staring upwards at her savior. She was looking at the back of an unfamiliar man, and yet, a familiar one.

"You okay?" came a familiar voice from the man. Then, the girl knew. This was no man at all.

He turned around, his curly brown lair falling bouncing as he laid his pale blue eyes on her. Even though it didn't look anything like him, it was Rhythm.

"Can you walk?" Rhythm asked, turning back to the attacker. Without a reply, she ran off, her body slowly reassembling itself from the nanite-destroying damage it had taken.

Analyzing subject...
...
...

Subject is a Class R model, encased in Standard Issue Type-C Battle Armor.

Class R. That means...

Subject is a Rhythm-series.

This machine was like him. How he was before being torn to shreds hundreds of years ago. Pure logic and calculation. It stood at a massive eight feet, an ogre-like robot whose head was completely covered except for one thin slit along its head from where it sees. Its limbs were thrice the size of Rhythm's, and it had two large squarish humps coming from its back. It was a gray model, just like he was. There was a small cannon protruding from its arm. It was the cannon that shot at his little friend after entrapping her with that beam.

Initial shock analyzed. Reserve power at 17%.

Rhythm almost made an outward sign of worry. 17%?! That means the blast nearly broke through his shield and destroyed him!

Nanite engine reactivated. Restoring optimal power configuration.

He couldn't enter the beam with his nanite engine online, so he turned it off and went to his reserve power to activate his surrounding shield. But now, it was payback time.

"I don't know if you can understand this, tin can, but I'm about to rip you apart, piece by piece!"

>> Activate overload.cpp

Retrieving data structure...
Activating program...
Power generation increased from 70% to 100%.

It was his ability. Normally, he runs at an optimized setting of power that can last him indefinitely, but for a brief period of time he can overload all his systems to produce not only massive overheating, but accelerated performance and power. He began to glow slightly. A red, hot glow. With that, steam began to rise from all parts of his body. His body was overheating, but he could take it. After all, this was his... moment!

He shot out, almost flying through the air with the speed of his sprint, charging at the metallic monster that dared to harm the person he cared most about. He sunk his fist into the machine's armored gut, blowing wind and smoke in all directions as the force of his fist radiated an aura as hot as lava. After the force of the impact, he noticed something was wrong and backed off, staring at his fist. The artificial skin had melted off some of his fingers, leaving the grayish metal of his former self. It was unheard of! His overloaded fist could cut through steel like butter, so why was this thing almost unharmed?! Not only that, but he seems to have done more damage to himself. His right hand twitched as some of the gears inside were damaged. He backed up some more, watching the robot. It hadn't moved since he saved her. What was it doing?

Analysis complete. Subject is a modified Rhythm-series. Model appears to be malfunctioning. Action: Termination.

A small red dot started glowing in the machine's eye-slit, going back and forth and then disappearing again. Then, something happened to Rhythm's amazement. It started glowing red, and steam was coming off of it.

Activating overload.cpp...

"N, no way..."

To think that the battle armor meshed so perfectly with the Rhythm-series unit inside was incredible. Is that the level of synchronization he used to have with it? Nonetheless, this was bad. Two holes opened up from the lumps on its back, and fire started coming out. Then, the machine started hovering above the ground.

Analysis complete. Target has rocket jets.

Suddenly, the machine leaned forward and its rockets propelled it forward, toward Rhythm. He couldn't react in time. He could only try to lessen the damage by jumping back as the attack came. It sunk its fist in his gut, nearly puncturing through his plating. He then found himself flung into the trees, crashing through several of them for nearly forty meters until his body finally stopped. He pulled himself up, clasping his chest, looking at the robot still standing there. The path of destruction in its wake was like a meteor that had come crashing through the forest.

Structural integrity compromised. Internal functions operating at 52%
Armor units 245 through 420 destroyed. Armor units 232, 560, 212, 209...

>>Can the damage report. Analyze weak points.

...
No weak points detected.

That was quick. The battle armor was top notch. Whoever designed it must've really wanted her back.

Unable to produce 100% power. Reverting to normal functions.

The red glow from him faded, and he was back to how he was. Luckily for him, the machine had also reverted. It seems that on that large body, a lot more energy was exerted to maintain that. If it wasn't for his speed in dodging the attack as much as he did, he would've been in pieces again. Not allowing Rhythm any rest, after its attack the robot turned to him and two cannons popped out from the side of his arms. Then, they fired, producing a large explosion in the spot where Rhythm was.

[Rhythm]

A figure burst out from the smoke, coasting along the grass as if he was skating on it. It was Rhythm's own rocket skates, giving him the speed he needed to execute his latest plan. There weren't any weak points in the battle armor, but just as the robot fired he found something he could use. He was going to give it all he had for this plan. He skated along the ground at high speeds, approaching the robot at an angle. Explosions went off right next to him, confirming his analysis that it needed time to aim those things. As he came within ten meters, the robot unhinged the top part of its body, like some tripod with a revolving top. Its upper body started spinning in place, firing off round after round at Rhythm. He was barely avoiding the blasts, the heat from them singeing his fake skin and tearing off scraps from his jacket. He made one revolution around the machine and then changed direction drastically.

He accelerated at full speed right towards the machine. As it re-aligned its cannons onto Rhythm, he jumped right as it shot, crossing his arms. Blades extended from the back of his forearms, and he rolled through the air and cut into a small hole connecting the machine's head and body. He bet all his hopes on what he thought was in that whole and landed behind the machine. It stopped firing. It stopped moving.

"Back then... my biggest weakness were those tubes going from the back of my neck to the back of my head. If somewhere in there was my former self, then that's where I aimed!"

The machine fell to its knees, then collapsed on its non-existent face. Rhythm sighed in relief and retracted his blades. It was over... or so he thought.

Warning! Warning! Warning! Target functionality detected!

"What?!" yelled Rhythm, turning towards the fallen machine.

It was too late. He processed a something going through his right arm, tearing it apart from his body. As something cut through his arm, there was a small explosion that knocked Rhythm back. The figure that did it jumped away. His right arm fell to the ground and he reeled from the sudden force. Small tubes and circuits jut out from the stub that used to be his arm, sparks crackling off the severed wires.

R-series detected.

That's it? He then noticed the machine. Its back had been opened from the inside like a cellar door, and it was hollow inside. The Rhythm-class that was inside had left its shell to continue its mission. But why was it so fast?!

It went in for another attack on Rhythm, and he tried to get it away from him by having something drop out of the bottom of his left arm. It was his own cannon, and when it deployed from his arm the trigger found its way into his left hand. He shot at the ground between them, causing a magical explosion from the magical crystal in his cannon. It was a white and blue explosion, and it bought him some time.

"I've gotta think like him. Like the me before me. What I would do here is back off and analyze my latest attack."

Strange anomaly detected. No traces of gunpowder.

Assessment: Proceed with caution. Avoid frontal attacks. Remove target's weapon.

Rhythm's own systems were disagreeing with him, however.

Subject is made out of 23rd Grade Polynomium. Subject has 253% movement capacity.

Basically, it was lighter than him because while he most of him was made out of makeshift steel or iron, the original him was made out of a lightweight material that absorbed enormous amounts of damage and conducted internal electric systems extremely well. It was faster than him because its weight is a fraction of his.

While it had his weaknesses, it was still almost impossible to catch. It was a gray robot with a helmet and visor covering its eyes, like he used to have. The rest of the face was rather human-like, but from the neck down it's nothing but metal.

Performing action: Retreat.

>> Override.

Confirmed.

This was his Artificial Intelligence. This was his free will. He was no longer just a machine; he could make his own decisions. And here, right now, he chose to go against his code and logic and continue fighting. He had to win here. His original model still had some nanite-destroying capabilities, which means that she was still in danger. He retracted his cannon, which was useless past its first shot anyway, and produced his arm-blade again. All he had now was his left hand, but it was all he needed.

After all, he was fighting himself. He had to think like a machine. A machine knew self-preservation, it was in his original programming. The past him would fight knowing his limits. So, it wouldn't expect him to do what he was about to do.

The machine charged at him from an angle, swinging its two extended arm-blades at him, some of the attacks being barely dodged, some of them barely connecting with Rhythm's body, some of them cutting through his plating, and others being countered by his own blade. He then purposely left his chest wide open and charged in.

Killing blow opportunity located. Proceeding...

Yet, instead of trying to block or dodge it, which he couldn't anyway at this point, he stepped into it and threw his left arm forward into the machine's head. The machine noticed the attack, but it was too late. They both stabbed into each other. One into Rhythm's chest, the other into the robot's right temple. While the machine knew Rhythm was modified, it didn't know to what extent. It would never have thought that Rhythm would have such a self-damaging move as the one he was about to unleash.

>> Activate electric_discharge.cpp

Warning! Program will cause severe damage and system shutdown.
Proceed?

>> 1

It was something he picked up on Althanas. A device that let him charge massive amounts of electricity through any medium in his body. The kicker was it did the same damage to him as it did to his target. Both of them light up with electricity, sparks flying and small bolts of lightning jumping between their joints. An explosion erupted from the back of the machine's head. Surges of electricity caused all sorts of explosions all over its body, sending it into a maddening twitch.

"I bet you regret being so conductive to electricity now, huh?! Now, for the coup de grace!"

With one final surge, he sent a massive amount of electricity into the machine, causing a brilliant display of lightning bolts to erupt from its back, sending its charred remains to the ground, its blade and Rhythm's blade both breaking off. There was another chief difference between them. Rhythm's gift, his nanite engine, allowed his body to recover from even the gravest of internal damage, so after a while he'll be back to normal. However, the machine was out for good. The triple-redundancy of its memory cores were all fried, and it had nothing left. He had another reason to thank her, his creator.

He collapsed on his back, his eyes losing their color as his systems started going offline. He felt it. The feeling that he was real. To defeat himself as he was... it was a strange sensation. For the first time, he felt like he was different from the machine he used to be.

[Rayse Valentino]

Home. The place you belong. It was something Rayse hadn't had in a long time. The chilly morning air was his daily reminder of where he was born back in Knife's Edge, Salvar. The long, cold winters. The feeling of snow under his palm, the taste of a beer so icy that a chill ran down his throat as he drank. With these sensations lost to him, he felt like he was always in a foreign place. He had a warmth that wouldn't go away, a dazing sensation of heat that followed him wherever he went. No matter what he did, he couldn't just relax and lose himself like he did back in Salvar. He couldn't let go of his worries, his fears, and ultimately he lost sight of his goals in this world.

Back in Salvar, Rayse had three things that he always wanted: Wealth, power, and control. To live his life to the fullest. To ascend to a higher level of existence. To take orders from no one. For the longest time, he only had control.

His self-determination lead him down a variety of dark paths, and he had no regrets. Then, he found wealth. Not just money, but the true wealth of the security of his lifestyle. He could go anywhere, do anything, and not worry about how to pay for it, or if he had to agree to any stipulations. Finally, he found power. Strength of mind, body, and spirit to move through those that would stand in his way. With all his goals met, there was only one thing to do: Push all three to the limit- become the wealthiest, have the most power, exert the most control. In his pursuit of what could be infinity, he lost what he had started with: Control. The power that brought him new opportunities also brought him consequences.

He didn't know how long ago it was now, but he started noticing something odd. His body was slowly turning into pure fire. Sometimes his limbs would pass through objects he would try to move, other times he felt his very balance start slipping in the wind. Dying was always a possibility in his line of dangerous work, but he never managed he could simply fade away. Done in by some sort of magical sickness. After finally gaining what could be all the tools needed for him to become something great, he was on the verge of losing it all.

So, he sought a cure. Taking him through some of the most desolate regions of Althanas, he searched for his own salvation. It was a daunting task, not only for how little he had to go on, but for the effect it was having on his conscience. What meaning was there to his existence? If he took The Company beyond the clouds and secured for himself the most exclusive lifestyle of all mankind, what would be left? A feeling of unfettered despair came creeping in, invading his thoughts. When he lived in Knife's Edge, he simply tried to survive, hoping for a better life someday. What could he do now? Eventually, he managed to find something. A rune specialist converted some magical artifacts into pill form, and told him to take a couple every day.

He should've been ecstatic that he secured his survival, but the journey had taken its toll on him. He felt like he had discovered a lack of purpose, a lack of meaning to his existence. Maybe if he returned to his schemes, he would find what it was he was meant to do in this world. So, that seemed like the only option available to him. However, there was one little detail that made his plans much more difficult: He had to take the medication for two years. Two years of not knowing whether or not he could stick around or burn out.

"I'm warning you: Don't take anymore than two. You could recover faster, sure, but the side-effects would be severe. Violent, aggressive tendencies, loss of memory, nauseousness, maybe even complete loss of control of your entire body. Don't do it."

Those were the words spoken to him by his 'doctor'. However, Rayse had already made up his mind. He had no time to wait around. So, he began his greatest ordeal of all: Trying to turn two years of medication into two months. That was at least three times the recommended dosage per day. He would remake himself anew, starting with his most important and cherished goal: Control.

"... Ugh... W-where am I... ?" said a groggy Rayse, finding himself on the ground in the woods.

The morning light pierced through the canopy of the trees, and as Rayse got up he rubbed the sand out of his eyes. His back hurt, his throat was sore, and his eyes itched. His clothes were dirty. He needed to get some booze down his throat, and fast. Looking about his person, he discovered that he had lost his traveling bag again. Luckily he never seemed to lose his essential belongings in his pockets, but it was still annoying. Crunching twigs between his shoes, he started walking in the direction of a clearing. It was actually a dirt road, and Rayse could only guess that he was on it yesterday.

Time was another sensation that was lost to Rayse recently. Taking too much of his medication left lasting holes in his memory. Sometimes it was only the last day, other times it was more. Since he knew he had to keep taking his pills yet keep his sanity intact, he had days in which he took half a dozen to a dozen pills, and other days when he took the standard two to get his bearings together. On the influence of the medication, Rayse probably did questionable, maybe even extreme things, and apparently drugged-up Rayse liked to travel. Every time he woke up from one of his binges he was somewhere new and feeling like shit. It was like a journey of sorts. Living day by day, in a way he was experiencing life from a different vantage point. Instead of staring at the sun, he was staring ahead. Not worrying about lofty goals like fame, power, or fortune, he was simply trying to survive, filling his life with the hope of yet another day to spend under the sun. Maybe after all of this, he would come out with the answer he was looking for. Or maybe he'll be consumed not only by the rune of fire that controls his body, but by his own despair.

So...

Where was he this time?

[Rayse Valentino]

I'm a pretty impatient guy, better store this somewhere so I don't forget it. I'm gonna use this stuff in Mortal Intervention so don't click the spoiler button if you want to read it from start to finish, but anyone with comments/suggestions should give me some tips. Trying to make this thing the best that I can. Biggest issue is the dialogue. I'll need to make it a bit more creative when I actually get to posting this stuff. Oh, and I skipped most of the setting. Will need to think up some detailed setting and be able to use it in some creative way I guess.

This time, the entrance to the catacombs was guarded. It was one of Denebriel's lieutenants. He was making sure no mortals could get beyond this point.

--

"You two go on ahead. We don't have time to waste on garbage like him. Go!"

"What did you say?!"

"Be grateful. I'm about to show you something I was saving up for later."

Starting from his sides, his arms, his legs, various thick, black tattoo lines crawled across Rayse's body and converged in the middle in perfect symmetry. Even his face was covered in the strange, almost tribal-looking marks.

--

Far behind Teric and Caden, a bright light spread throughout the halls for a moment and then disappeared, followed by a short scream that was quickly muffled out. A minute later, Rayse had caught up with the two.

--

(The room before Denebriel's is huge, and plated with a golden-looking material that's extremely strong.)

(Tyray is in the way of the trio. He immediately goes to attack Caden Law with a powerful burst of air, but Rayse grabs the wizard and makes them both burst into flames and reform a few meters away.)

"Don't get yourself killed. We might need you to save us later."

(Rayse keeps Tyray occupied while Caden/Bloodrose take the seal off the door and enter the spellchamber)

--

"Finally, we're alone," smiled Tyray, pressing down upon his cane in anticipation. "I hope for your sake that you've improved since we last met."

Slowly pulling his Damascus longsword out its sheath on his back, Rayse revealed that the entire breadth of the blade was wrapped in thick, black threads.

"I've been waiting to try this out," he mentioned casually. "You should be honored. It took all of my thread to wrap this up."

The thread was the special spidersilk that he procured from one of his allies on a job a while ago. Especially reactive to magic, it was the perfect tool in Rayse's arsenal. He snapped his fingers with his free hand to produce a flame on his right thumb, which he rubbed across the blade, setting the threads on fire. Although, it was a strange fire that immediately started burning intensely despite not reaching more than an inch beyond the blade. With both hands on the handle, he pulled the sword up above his head. Stefan Tyray remained motionless at this action. He was somewhat curious to see what the young man was up to. With a strong heave, Rayse swung downwards, stopping just short of the floor as he angled the blade towards his side so that it stopped behind him. In the arc of the slash, a flaming crescent raced towards Tyray, who disappeared and reappeared several meters away as the crescent hit the wall and exploded, spreading a cloud of smoke throughout the room that was quickly dissipated by Tyray's magic.

Denebriel's servant lambasted Rayse, "You'll need to do better than that to hit me, child."

Indeed, Tyray was a hard target to hit. He had the unique ability to manipulate the air around him, allowing him to not only move his body throughout the room in an instant but also to quench the much-needed oxygen out of Rayse's flames. Every time he dodged he created an after-image of himself that persisted for a couple seconds in the space his body occupied. However, The Contractor had no intention of losing. If he couldn't take him on from a distance, then he would have to close the gap.

Disappearing into several streams of flame, Rayse reformed behind Tyray and swung at his torso, once again producing a flaming crescent as Tyray dodged to the side using his air manipulation. As the crescent hit the wall and exploded, Stefan pointed his palm at Rayse and released a torrent of highly-pressurized air in his direction, sending the young man flying backwards in pain and slamming into the ground, knocking the sword out of his hands.

"Damn!" groaned Rayse, slowly picking himself up. "Feels like I got hit with a train on that one..."

"Of course!" Tyray raised his arms, palms pointing upward. "The unseen is my ally. I simply suck out all the air between us, then forcibly fill it back up. Causing you pain is but a trifle."

Heh, then I'm sure you actually need to see me to be able to attack me. Rayse fished into his side-pouch and pulled out a small tar-based mini-molotov. Lightning it, with his thumb, he tossed it at the ground between Tyray and himself. The black, choking smoke immediately filled the room, but Denebriel's servant didn't move an inch. He turned around and pointed his palm into the smoke. Suddenly, the smoke dispersed from around his palm and once again Rayse hit the floor violently. The rest of the smoke vanished as well.

Tyray sighed, "You probably thought I needed to see you, right? You are beginning to tire me. Where was that power I saw?"

Rayse picked himself up again, but now he had a few streams of blood dripping down his face. This wasn't going anywhere. Was this the extent of his ability with that storehouse of power? Regardless, he couldn't afford to not use it anymore. The tattoos formed all over his body once more, and his body ignited like a match, burning softly with an orange glow.

"Ah, there it is," Tyray smiled. "Now! Show me what you can do!"

"With pleasure," Rayse smiled back.

--

With one knee on the ground, Rayse struggled to get back on his feet. Finally managing to do so, he glared at Tyray relentlessly. The tattoos all over his body were starting to fade.

"You know," Rayse said between breaths. "All this toying around with me is doing you no good, old man. By now, Denebriel's powerless and getting her ancient ass kicked."

Tyray shook his head, "Is that what you think? What do you think I've been fighting you with this whole time, eh? It's The Sway! Created by Denebriel before her exile, and built up to what it is today through generations! All her lieutenants have access to its limitless potential. In fact, we're standing over the source of it right now! Under this room is an enormous cave of crystals, and some of them retained the great powers of The Tap. We used those crystals to form the channeling point for the power of the Ethereal Sway."

Rayse looked down at the ground. He was starting to notice something odd about it.

"You want to know why I didn't kill you before? I wanted you to bring someone to seal off Denebriel's connection to the Eternal Tap! While she's been missing all this time, I have been right here in Knife's Edge, honing the power of The Sway and making it my own. Now that you've sapped her of her main source of power, I am far more powerful. Once I've taken care of you, Denebriel, and your friends, I will proceed to take control of Salvar myself!"

Rayse looked at the spot where Stefan initially attacked Caden Law. There was a crack in it. None of the walls took any damage from any of the attacks, but the floor did?

"I can't believe how well this has worked! Centuries of waiting, wondering how I could possibly usurp her, and you come along and do it everything for me! It's been hard to contain myself until now! Hahahahaha!!"

Something clicked in Rayse's head, and then he turned back to Tyray and gave him one of the most confident grins of his life.

"Yes, I get it. You're some sort of super genius that's going to rule us all. That's great. Now shutup."

The tattoos disappeared fully from his body, but he caught fire again. The fire burned hotter and hotter, turning from yellow to orange to blue and finally... white. Engulfed in a semi-transparent white fire, jumped into the sky and pointed his right index finger down on Tyray.

Tyray was interrupted from his cackling by the new development, "Hahaha! Ha... Hmm, what's this? Is this a new trick? White fire? Nothing is that hot."

"Then get ready to be blown apart by nothing!" yelled Rayse, firing a concentrated stream of fire from his index finger that smacked into the ground where Tyray was standing, piercing most of the way through it and then exploding.

Tyray appeared on the other side of the room, his hand on his heart. He... he almost didn't make it in time! How did Rayse's attacks get so fast? Why couldn't he extinguish the flame before it reached him? However, Rayse wasn't interested in Tyray at the moment, as he used himself as a human cannonball to plow through what remained of the apparently thin floor to reach an enormous crystal cave below. He landed on the ground and looked around in wonder. Something like this was under Knife's Edge? Denebriel's usurper whisked himself through the hole created by Rayse and appeared some distance away from him in the cave.

"What's going on here?!" Tyray demanded.

"Oh, it's simple," Rayse replied. "I simply took what was left of my excess power and turned it into this fire. The flame that surrounds me is the last card in my deck."

Tyray was jovial again, "Hahaha! So you've given up! Once I extinguish that flame, you'll be helpless! Well, I must say it was entertaining, but I have a kingdom to conquer." With both palms pointed at Rayse, Stefan let loose one of his strongest winds yet, surrounding Rayse and piercing through his flames but not hitting him. After a few seconds of this, Tyray's mood was broken once again. "W-why? I sucked out all the air from around you! What is that flame feeding off of if not air?!"

Rayse smiled, "Simple. It's feeding off my ambition."

Tyray was flabbergasted. How could that make any sense? Whatever, it didn't have to! All he had to do was take him out and be done with it. Clearly he needed more power to douse that fire, and he had plenty of it here at the heart of The Sway. Whisking himself to a small altar surrounding by glowing crystals, he stood in the center of it and drew upon the greater powers of The Sway.

--

"Your flame is sputtering," Tyray noted confidently. "You made this quite a challenge, and for that I thank you. I bid you farewell!"

Putting his hands together, he channeled the power of the ethereal spirits into his being. Anyone who got near him for more than a second would be vaporized, but a second was all that Rayse needed. Disappearing from his spot and reappearing in front of Tyray, Rayse snapped his fingers and below him a flame moved along the ground in several lines. From dagger to dagger, these lines formed the shape of a star around the altar. When he threw those weapons earlier, he was actually forming that shape with some thin spidersilk attaching them end to end. When he said it took him all his thread to wrap up the sword, he was lying.

Suddenly, Rayse's fire turned into an enormous upward beam of light, completely covering the altar and piercing the ceiling of the cave above them. After all, the strings amplified any magic that came in contact with them and the shape allowed an upward momentum of said magic. With Rayse at the apex, this was his most powerful attack yet. For how old Tyray was, he sure was arrogant. Thousands of years without a challenge and a feeling of superiority over the world only helped to fuel his ego. His greatest mistake was not thinking that Rayse would use the same tricks he used upstairs down here. Only someone with everything handed to them would think they could win just through sheer force. That was the difference between them. It was why Rayse hated the nobles. It was why he left his noble family to build who he was from the ground up.

"Do you feel it now, Tyray?! This. Is. My. Ambition!"

Rayse, engulfed in the beam itself but able to withstand its heat, could see Tyray's form chipping away until there was nothing left. The white beam of light tore through the ceiling, interrupting the battle above by nearly incinerating Denebriel who backed off just in time. The beam continued, piercing through the roof of her spellchamber and continuing upwards, finally exiting through a street in Knife's Edge and into the sky. When the beam stopped, Rayse's white fire was gone and he was standing in a crater where the altar had been. The glowing crystals that were arranged around it were gone, and thus the influence of The Tap on this place was lost. The Sway was no more. Wiping the sweat from his face with his shirt, Rayse felt like he was just in an oven. Was he back to normal? It sure seemed like it. Before he could celebrate, however, there was one more task to be done.

--

(Caden Law, Bloodrose, Rayse vs Denebriel)

(Bloodrose's + Rayse's connection used as catalyst for a great illusion/dream spell by Denebriel that puts them in a trance)

(Rayse's dream)

(Bloodrose's dream)

(Caden Law protecting the vulnerable Rayse+Bloodrose from Denebriel's attacks)

(Rayse's dream's Bloodrose and Bloodrose's dream's Rayse make the same decisions that Rayse/Bloodrose did, so they snap out of it)

(Rayse/Bloodrose combo attack right as they awake from the trance to finish Denebriel off)

(Denebriel) "...But... How... ?"

(Rayse) "Even if you change my history, I'll still end up who I am are today. The only one who changes my destiny is me!"

(Outside)

(Teric) "It's another cold day in Knife's Edge."

(Rayse) "Yeah... too bad I can't..." Rayse couldn't believe it. He was shivering. He was feeling it! The cold! He could feel the cold again! He turned away from Bloodrose to hide the tears forming in his eyes. "I'm... home again."

(Possible party involving priceless elven drafts)

[Rayse Valentino]

Storing a post here, seemed to work out pretty good last time! Don't look if you're planning to read For Lack of Empathy when it's done.



(this assumes Anglekos had Rayse grabbed the cigarettes so I don't have to include it, but if he posts and it turns out he didn't I will edit accordingly. also single parenthesis stuff is to be fleshed out, as before)

Old Ettermire. (finish monologue, describe Old Ettermire)

The three of them stood at the edge of the massive opened window. Smoke poured out of the top, and the drop to the alley below was about 12 feet, about triple the height of the tribal kid. Sitting on the edge, Rayse dropped down first, feeling a bit of strain as he landed on his feet, but nothing that would keep him from running. He turned around and motioned for Vincent to follow. The other teenager mimicked Rayse's earlier motion, and also dropped down. Rayse took that to mean they were ready to go, so he started running only to find that Vincent was still standing under the window.

"What's the hold up?!" Rayse yelled.

"Come on, kid, I'll catch you," Vincent smiled. The boy was still shaking nervously on the edge of the window.

Rayse couldn't believe it, "Are you serious? You're going to get us both killed! Let's go!"

"I'm not leaving without him!" Vincent shot back, and then looked back up at the kid. "Come! There's no time to be afraid! Let yourself go!"

The kid swallowed hard, and then sat down on the edge of the window, slowly sliding himself off. He couldn't bear to watch, so he closed his eyes as he pushed himself off. His body crashed into Vincent's chest, and they both fell to the ground. After getting up, they joined Rayse and ran into Old Ettermire.

(they get into a house with a door, close it behind them and lock it. they're in the darkness.)

They were all exhausted, the tribal kid especially, who was breathing heavily on his back on the stone floor. Rayse, ever the one to forget the immediate danger to pursue other priorities, looks incredulously at his friend.

"What's up with you, man?" He said in a harsh whisper. "Why are you taking the kid with us? He's only going to slow us down."

Vincent understood where Rayse was coming from. It was a reasonable concern, as they came very close to getting axes lodged in their craniums. Still, if it wasn't for the kid then they would've never got away in the first place.

"I know what you're thinking too," Rayse continued. "The whole damn reason we got jumped is because of this kid! We don't owe him anything!"

"We owe him a promise," Vincent replied. "We agreed to guide him to the train station. Nothing has changed about that."

"So this is about duty? Who cares about that shit?"

"I do."

Their eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and they saw that they were face to face. The thing about friendship is that true friends aren't carbon copies of each other. They can have disagreements and fights about all sorts of things, but the caveat is that they will always move on. Sometimes they would fight and not talk to each other for a day or two, then go back to normal as if nothing ever happened. Other times, Vincent apologized even though he didn't truly believe he was at fault. Rayse would never apologize, but his sheer helplessness made him drop the subject. Vincent was the only one among them with any semblance of a plan.

"Do what you want, man. Just don't get us killed."

"I won't. I promise." Vincent looked at the kid. "Got a name? I'm Vincent, and my idiot friend over here is Rayse."

The kid hadn't said a word up until this point, and he had no reason to do so. However, the sincerity of Vincent's voice made him trust the teenager, and for once, in a raspy naive, he replied, "R, Richard."

"Pretty normal-sounding for some mystical child."

(anymore dialogue? who knows. maybe a scene before all this where the pursuers try to get the door open, notice it's locked, and then give up and move on. otherwise, that happens later.)

A light suddenly illuminated the old room, showing the faces of the three. Rayse held a lit match, and used it to light one of his pilfered cigarettes. Before he could put it in his mouth, Vincent slapped it out of his eyes and stamped it out.

"H-hey!" Rayse said, in a tone that changed halfway to a whisper.

"You trying to get us killed?!" Vincent scolded. "You think they won't bust down the house that smells like smoke?"

"Damn it, man, I haven't had a smoke since I got off the train."

"You're so single-minded, Rayse."

"Listen to the kid," came a gruff voice from the back of the room. The three bolted upright and put their hands up, looking for the source of the voice. "Calm down, I'm not after you."

(maybe Richard creates a light, actually. who knows?)

"You don't want to get caught, after all," the voice continued, coming into the light. It was a tall drow with long white hair, with a certain sadness in his eyes. He was wearing a brown tunic. "It didn't look like you were leaving, so I thought that I would go first."

"Who the hell are you?" Rayse asked.

"There are two kinds of elves that go into houses like these: The poor and downtrodden, and illicit deal makers."

"Which one are you?"

"Don't get me wrong. I may be poor of heart and soul, but I am not lacking in coin. I thought I had a deal here, but apparently I was ditched. It happens in this business. Look, I'm not going to tell anyone where you are, but you better leave soon. Once they figure that you stopped running and started hiding, they'll check places like these as well."

"Why are you helping us?"

"I don't know. I'm no good guy. Let's just say that us drow aren't all the same. I look forward to the day where we can openly trade with Salvar, you know the kind of trade where merchants can come into town without fear and set up shop. I long to see your city of Knife's Edge, but instead the only ones allowed to go are Graf-lovers and royalists." He sighed. "Take it easy, little ones." He walked up to the door and unlocked it. He looked at Vincent for a moment. "Duty isn't all it's cracked up to be, kid."

Opening the door, he looked around to make sure nobody was seeing him leave, and closed it behind him. Vincent did not think of his words at the moment, but little by little they started to eat away at him. Was he really doing the right thing?

Poor of heart and soul. I would not learn the meaning behind those words until much later.

(some more stuff later maybe)

[Rayse Valentino]

Nearly a year has passed since the last post in The Bitter King. While I still hold out hope that Revenant will return to complete it with me, the spark of creativity does not burn forever. Already I feel some of my ideas slipping away as I wait. I will get them out of my head with time, and if Revenant isn't back before I finish it, then... I dunno. We'll see if I did any good on my own. I like writing with others, because every time, without fail, whenever I involve another they take one of my ideas and make it better. They give it more life than I would have on my own. Two people (or more) means more possibilities, more creativity, and from the best of what those people come up with are what you see. I can't help it if some people think of writing as a casual hobby to pick up and drop when there's other people on the line, their heads filled with a story they want to tell cooperatively, but I can't control how people spend their spare time. Under the spoiler will be the start of my solo completion of the thread. Let's hope it doesn't come to this.



It didn't take long before the scenery of the gray desert was replaced with jagged structures sticking out of the ground. They found themselves in a forgotten city, buried by the sands of time with only the upper spires visible above ground. The ground was harder now, the dust a mere sheath for the buildings that sought to escape their fate. With a quick glance, Rayse noticed that he couldn't see the end of the ruins, and that they were going deeper into them.

"The Black-Bones," Gor'Havah started. "Live at the center of all this, the tallest point of the forgotten city. We'll have to be more alert from this point on."

The similarities to The Warrens were growing as they traversed through the ruins. Maybe this was The Warrens of the Third City, the locus point for buildings that found themselves in this plane. There was no wind, no animals, just an unnerving quietness to accompany them. Rayse wondered how Gor'Havah planned to sneak into this fortress, but there was no reason to doubt the elder ghoul now.

It was when Gor'Havah suddenly stopped and looked at the sky did Rayse wish they had the stillness back. The contractor followed the elder ghoul's gaze and saw something floating very far away. It looked tiny from his perspective, and he had to squint to make sense of it. The most he could tell was that its shape was spherical, and that its front was merely... a face. Was it a floating head? Rayse almost didn't take it seriously until he walked up to Gor'Havah and saw his expression.

Gor'Havah kicked the ground and nearly flew into one of the spires, using it as cover. "Damn it, just our luck to run into a beholder. We need to hide, now!" Rayse followed suit, about to take out his beak dagger when he noticed that the elder ghoul was not even attempting to wield his scythe. It seems fighting it was futile even for him. The contractor looked around for something to hide under, after all the thing had not spotted them yet. It'll go away if they remain unseen, right? Gor'Havah moved into action, motioning for Rayse to follow him as he headed toward what looked like a stone plateau that stuck out of the ground a few feet. He knelt down and started digging until the ground gave way in front of him, flowing into what looked like a window. He slid into the hole without hesitation, and Rayse followed right after.

It was pitch black in there, with the exception of the small ray of light coming from the hole. As Rayse looked back, he saw Gor'Havah finally wield his scythe, and a shocked expression filled the contractor's face, because he knew what the elder ghoul was about to do. Before he could do anything to stop him, Gor'Havah caused the ceiling to cave in and close up their entrance, submersing them in darkness. Even after burying them alive, Rayse still felt apprehensive, as if talking could still incite the monster. Their vision was restored after a few moments as Gor'Havah produced a small stick and cracked it in two, causing it to grow a light along the length of the halves. He gave one of the pieces to Rayse. After calming down a bit, the younger ghoul figured that the elder one wasn't suicidal, and that there was another way out.

"All these buildings are connected," he said, putting his scythe away. "We'll go in from below."

Rayse nodded. So this was your plan? Looks like Gor'Havah was plotting a subterranean infiltration the whole time, but likely wanted to get a bit closer before going down.

The elder ghoul lead the way, heading down a spiral staircase in the corner of the room that lead to the catacombs below. The ordeal made Rayse realize that the Black-Bones lived above ground, in plain sight to monsters like the one they escaped from. If they got discovered, it would mean the end of them.