Forged like Iron (Closed)

The sun beat down with its normal hue of blood red and sand peach heat bouncing off anything that stood more than a single meter off the ground. Zelrius had just walked out the Keep, in which he was housed and lived by order of the Priestess of Suravani and the Jya. It had been sometime since he had arrived, starving and about to die of thirst on a boat before the great city of Irrakam. However, that tale was one to be told another day. With the current weather, many carried about their day as it was normal. Vesuvius was far more than content for the first time since his service began, he had been sent into the desert many a time, and it was this time, he was simply on Patrol. More importantly: Outlander watch.

It was no secret that every day many attempts were made each and every day for Outlander’s to sneak out of the Quarter and into the grand city. Vesuvius had been accused himself of being an escapee. Most in Fallien were Dark skinned, Haired, and eyed. Also being small in stature but strong, The Fallien were a hardy and long working people. Zelrius was the complete opposite. He focused on intelligence above strength and was more mischievous and devout to the Religion than most in the area. The more notable appearance being he was pale-skinned, A bit taller than the locals, and his dark set blue eyes. Once more, a Tale from another time. The point here: The boy was more than aware of what made and Outlander so easily noticeable.

With a small stroll and whistle through the street, Zelrius was stopped short by the gate of Outlander’s quarter. At the gate was a commotion, Some guards were holding weapons, others were holding sand-moves. The sand-moves were used to quickly dig up and replace sand above a silicon-bomb. By the time Zelrius saw that it wasn’t the guards holding the moves, the explosion went off, taking the boy off his feet,and also than killing several of the military men by the Quarter.

Michael had been dozing off for a while now, wondering how he was going to get into the city and smuggle a girl out of there. The reason he was employed to do this was that she was smuggled into the city with her family out of the quarters. Now that her family was dead of disease she had no reason to remain and wanted to be smuggled out, of course he was always up for money and agreed through a common benefactor. Before he could contemplate on this any more he felt more than heard an earth shattering shockwave that blew everyone in the vicinity off their feet. Apparently the rioting had gotten out of hand and his fellow foreigners had resorted to terrorist bombing.

Michael kick-flipped to his feet and noticed that his hood had been knocked off, exposing his features to the world. Cursing he stumbled away from the scene as he was still disoriented from the insane blast. He made it only a few feet before leaning up against a wooden pillar to catch his breath. Glancing back, he saw that the bombers and guards involved were mortally wounded from the vicinity. Trying to take in as much of the situation as possible something caught his eye. Wearing the garments of the jya faction was a boy about his age with foreign features very similar to his. Realizing he would be catching a lot of attention by standing there looking at the crime scene, he turned tail and ran, but he knew it was too late, the young man had likely seen his features by now.

Zelrius opened his eyes to now find a mass of Outlander’s running rampant. Feet being swung in a hurried shuffle around and sometimes over him, a bit to the boy’s misfortune. Reaching out and gripping a nearby leg, Zelrius sent waves of shock from his fingers up the limb and caused its owner to collapse in a form of flesh and bone. Using the now fallen Outlander, Vesuvius stood and faced one whom he had seen moments earlier still in the area, That was the one that seemed to know to avoid the main streets. It would take his great mind to capture and arrest a more intellectual outsider like this one, Or so Zelrius’s big ego liked to believe.

Kick swinging up, the Blonde haired Fallien soldier stood and drew his sword. In a matter of seconds he was on top of the Outlander, It wasn’t until Zelrius had swung that he realized the stance this outlander took. A martial arts stance that the Keep had taught Blackfyre himself, used to disarm. His sword swung in the air, and with it whizzing by the boy didn’t even glance to see where it had landed. Throwing a gaze backward, many of the authorities seemed to be already well-aware of the situation, and even prepared. They had been expecting this occurrence?

The quick patter of feet made Zelrius snap back to the Outlander whom had tried escaping through back streets and alleys. “HEY!” the narcissistic voice of the Light Skinned Fallien boy called after the running man, of course letting his ego think that would stop a runaway. And gave chase quickly on the heels of the now running escapee. His agility had allowed him to quickly catch up and throw a kick at the man, to which the man responded with a slight stumble, but was far more balanced and coordinated then The Keep Soldier was. I’ve never seen an outsider do things like that….

Michael had barely been able to run for 10 seconds before his seeming doppelganger was upon him. Turning his head he saw the arm of his pursuer draw back for a swing that would cut his hamstring. Before the swing was completed he jabbed at Zelrius’s wrist and the sword went sailing. He completed the spin he started to accomplish that feat and kept running, only for his instincts to kick in and tell him that a kick was coming for the back of his leg. He could block the hit which would bring him to a stop and start an engagement or he could take the hit and keep running. Not wanting to lose the option he had with running he rolled with the theoretical punch and kept running.

The chase went on for about another thirty seconds with Michael simply plowing through obstacles and Zelrius leaping over and sliding under them. Michael though, saw a window of opportunity, and with just four great bounds, he leapt to the top of a shopping stall, leapt to a nearby window sill, jumped again to a wall adjacent to him, and bound off of it to the roof of the building he started from. As he continued running he looked behind him and saw Zelrius forego the window sill altogether and simply wall hop to the roof he was on. Now running out of options as they jumped from roof top to roof top, he dived forward and leapt over the walls of the city and hit the ground in a roll on the other side.

Giving up running at this point, he turned around and attempted to hit Zelrius with a clothesline only to watch the arrogant aristocrat bend his torso parallel to the ground at a 90 degree angle. Even as the young blonde came up he lashed out with a vicious right hook that almost caught Michael unawares. The angel brought his arm up to block it and dodged the roundhouse kick that came IMMEDIATELY after by bending his own torso back. Deciding that he had enough of being on the defensive, he lashed out with a flurry of strikes of all types, using his prodigious mastery of many styles old and new, almost every hit he threw was of a different style which the aristocrat had a problem keeping up with. Finally he threw a knee at his torso which he barely brought a guard up in time to block. The mere force of it sent Zelrius sailing through the air, but even then the teen was infuriatingly able to land on his feet from. Both sides still having not technically gotten a hit on each other.

With the shoes under his feet beginning to slip, the boy landed a hand down and only slid a couple of feet. Quickly disregarding the now stinging hand, Zelrius charged forth once more throwing a left hook and it was quickly blocked by the forearm of this blonde haired outlander. Looking into the golden eyes of his opponent, Zelrius had the fleeting thought of… himself. The two looked so much alike, with the exception of a few differences such as the eye color difference and the fact that this runaway was larger than he was by a what made Zelrius thought to be milestones. These blocking techniques greatly annoyed the narcissist.

Though he was arrogant and his ego was bigger than his opponent’s body mass, The boy was not one to overlook talent. Zelrius was a trained soldier at this point, and most clearly by some movements and turns the enemy made he wasn’t. Yet this One hundred and eighty pounds of muscle, Or so Zelrius estimated, seemed to be doing more than excelling at thourghholy (Get it?) whooping his ass. With a leap back, the panting and extreme sweating began on Vesuvius’s part, something he had not anticipated in this battle. The boy had long assumed that the untrained runaway would quickly give in to fatigue and fall over, this was not the case. Though the tall escapee seemed to be a bit winded, it wasn’t enough to stop bugging Zelrius at how well he had been able to keep up with himself.

They were at a staring contest of sorts now, simply eyeing each other, waiting for the next move of the other. Slowly, step by step, Zelrius’s foot met sandstone and slightly turned. The same movement was mirrored almost perfectly by the enemy. He grinned, this was the advantage Zelrius needed, a more tactful approach then a strength one, since that was never the teenager’s strong suit, though his ego would never allow him to say that outloud. As soon as the his enemy squinted to adjust his eyes to the sun, the rushing water from the river behind Zelrius went near silent, as he focused on what was now a perfect opportunity. The advantage was with the Fallien Soldier, whom swung forward with a hit as hard as he could to the face . Landing the first hit. Landing back down, Zelrius was triumphant for about the next five seconds.

Looking at it straight in the eyes, the sun temporarily blinded him as his eyes had to adjust, but it didn’t hurt him considering his position as a being of light. In this moment however Zelrius capitalized and hit him, the aristocrat had more strength then he seemed to think, as the force behind it almost made him take a step back, maybe lean muscle? Aside from that he saw the man smirk and seem distracted for a moment and in that moment he lashed out with the most savage haymaker he could muster. This collided with his jaw and sent him staggering backwards.

As Zelrius took a moment to massage his aching jaw Michael took off running again following the direction of the river downstream. Zelrius took off in hot pursuit and their path took them down the winding slopes of the desert’s sand dunes as Michael booked it hoping to make Zelrius give up chase. The egotistical bastard just would not give up the damn chase though, and as they passed by a corpse that seemed to have been attacked by bandits he reached down and plucked its iron sword from its grasp without losing any speed. Now that Zelrius had a sword Michael thought that their combat would be more evenly matched now.

Now it was time the boy had a fair fight. The iron sword’s leather handle burned in the boy’s hand, a sensation most pleasing and very familiar to the aristocrat. The boy continued to just chug along through sand and rock, the natural environment being something Vesuvius was almost a damn professor of, more or less the navigating part that is. As hot sand was kicked behind both of them with every movement, the two once again resumed another high chase through the island of which the capital of Irakkam of Fallien was on. Zelrius swung down with his sword, just knicking the man in the back, only to be met with a quick stop that ended in his foot swinging back and Zelrius on his face in the sand. Jolting quickly up the boy was ready for another showdown. Zelrius was never one to overlook little details, and such a “detail” was that he thought he had felt a bit of resistance along that “knick”, something not ordinarily there for a normal person. ..

He was up now, His heavy dark blue eyes only gazing with absolute hatred for this man in front of him. Admiration was there in his gaze, but mostly hatred. Vesuvius was more than thinking that this is certainly the one who did the Sandbomb, Though there was uncertainty in this thought. Sandbomb… A grin formed as he reached for his bag and quickly dropping the Sandbomb or Silicon grenade as it was formally called by the Keep, and hoped to hope that the opponent was in fact ignorant of such devices. His sword glistened in the sun, the iron seemingly steaming, this was common in Fallien, but there seemed to be a little more to it, a Little more heat than usual. The small details were taken in and there were assumptions being formed, but none too keen yet.
With a swing of his sword one more time the boy used his trained skilled Zelrius predicted a right dodge from the man, Boy was he wrong. The dodge was a left duck and quick uppercut that scraped the boy’s, what he thought to be, beautiful chin. This was becoming a serious problem. Where is that damn symbiote when you need him?

Michael was getting seriously, pissed off. Zelrius was about to wish he had that symbiote even more, because as Michael gave chase to the boy in midair he noticed a small object down on the ground… it was one of those grenades! the one’s that started this mess in the first place. Just as the explosion headed towards them both Michael finally decided to pull out his ace in the hole and with a fluttering sound, his wings burst out of his trenchcoat and it was thrown off by them in a flourish. The explosion creeped closer and closer, ever so slowly, and as it about engulfed them a terribly bright, radiant, light engulfed the surrounding area as he summoned up his power as vaporised the glass in front of them with holy flame, as the flame was close enough to his body to fuel.

This threw up a gigantic smoke cloud that covered them both, both but Michael would not have it. With a flex of his wings, the cloud dissipated and his entire being started to shine with a light so bright that Zelrius had to look away lest the light burn out his eyes. The angel’s entire body glowed and light even brighter streamed from his mouth and eye sockets, even the sun seemed brighter than before and some of the sand around them was being blown away and the ground almost felt like it was trembling slightly… then he spoke. The voice felt so uncomprehendingly alien that his opponent felt a sense of vertigo, and had the distinct impression that his eardrums had almost ruptured, “What do you even want!?” With just those five words a suffocating presence began to fill the air almost as if it was charged with ozone. His skeletal wings streamed behind him, a wingspan of almost twelve feet and they were definitely large, although unhealthy looking with a few tattered white feathers barely clinging on here and there, no wonder he didn’t fly away if they are recovering THAT much.

Michael seemed to catch himself before he did something he might regret(he enjoys fighting, but not killing) and the light seemed to die down, looking down at his feet he saw that the sand in a cone around him had turned to glass from holy flame licking at his heels, the sand stopped blowing, he stopped glowing, the sun toned it down and the ground stopped subtly trembling. With a sigh his wings folded behind his back and he looked at the boy, and was astonished at how similar he was in heart to him, ego aside. “What am I even doing, I was almost going to kill you… I’m sorry sir but you had no right to be chasing me, if only because I ran from a terrorist bombing, I took back alleys only because I didn’t know how widespread the attack was.” He walked over and picked up his trenchcoat and draped it over his shoulders once more. Ahh this brought him back, back to the days when he was just discovering his powers and to think that this guy had brought him to this point. He stopped suddenly when he felt a force in the air. He looked over and saw lightning arc between Zelrius’s fingers that traveled up his arms, almost in response to the life or death situation that he was in. So he had an ace in the hole too? Michael felt as if the oxygen he breathed was electrically charged. Obviously the ability he had, was electric, and it would definitely explain the speed with which he was able to give chase.

As Zelrius watched the little electric beams of yellow and blue light dance around his fingers, he added with a growing frustration toward the angel “Terrorist attack? You expect me to believe. Look here, buddy, I didn’t join the military yesterday. I know of a mob riot when I see when, more specifically a Outlander Mob Riot. You lot do it every few months, just not on that high of a scale. What the hell were you planning? Getting as many of you to hide throughout the city and wait till the commotion for capturing them die down? Fallien would sooner be covered in dirt and water again before that happens. Look, I appreciate the whole saving my life deal, But I am going to have to put you under arrest by order and right of the Jya. May Suravani watch us today and hope that you may be judged with righteous and true jury.” The boy got up and brushed sand off of him, his hands swinging back and forth up and down his thin cloth clothing, wrapped around him in a half-toga, half shawl, this being the most effective against the sun and heat of Fallien. The electric energy that ran through Zelrius was draining now, but he didn’t allow to show it, The aristocrat knew far better than to do so.

Gingerly kicking his feet along the sand he reached to subdue the angel man whom quickly put a hand on the Soldier’s shoulder and held tightly, almost making feeling be lost in that arm. “Okay, now look, I feel bad for… y’know. Almost killing you. I am willing to consent to being taken to trial and what not, But know this: I am not going as a prisoner. I am going as a willing law abiding foreign national, understood?” Zelrius sighed, there was nothing he could at this point. The man not only towered above Zelrius in all muscle, weight, and height, but he also was clearly not even nearly as fatigued as himself. With a heavy breath out, the boy withdrew his hand to his side and turned toward the great city in the distance. “Let’s go. Now, I am tired and need a drink. And you need to stand before a court and plead your case.” With that the two look-alikes trotted along in the sand quietly for but a few moments. The golden flecks of eroded sand flying slight behind them with every connection between foot and ground. The day was in about full steam now, and was being more than the usual pain in the arse. Mainly because it bothered Zelrius that it took several hours to finally get the man to walk back, politely to the city with him, but also the fact that around this time, he’d be down at a nearby brothel, throwing his week’s pay away. Damn, were some of those girls cute.

“Tell me, whatever-the-hell-you-are, Why did you come to Fallien, and more specifically, Irakkam to the Outlander’s Quarter?”

Michael looked over to him and corrected him, “I’m an angel, Archangel to be precise, my name is Michael and my services have been employed to smuggle a foreigner girl out of this city, who was smuggled in to care for a sick relative in the first place.” The aristocrat scoffed “Damn thats risky. Whats the pay?” “A little R&R if you know what I mean?” to this end, Blackfyre grinned, he did in fact know what he meant, and was just thinking of a brothel he visited often himself for the same purposes. This angel was becoming more and more likeable. Michael glanced at his newfound friend and asked “Why did you suspect me of terrorism in the first place?” The grin faded, and in his normal egotistical ‘I am always right’ voice replied “Because that damn bomb knocked me off my feet. and I know more than damn well that most if not all those morons in Outlander’s Quarter do not know how to use a sand-move, let alone a damn Silicon Grenade!”
Michael laughed at that and simply stated “You are right about most of the people there but I also happen to be here on official business between my family and the merchant’s guild, will that help my case knowing I was here to make an official purpose and have the documents for it?” To which Zelrius only looked straight ahead and gave an airy and breathy “I am not too sure about that, Fallien doesn’t like non-desert people…” Michael grimaced at this and simply said, “If the court pardons me lets go visit the local brothel, if they don’t then i am fairly likely to kill everyone in the room, burn their eyes out and take off again, well except for you, with those lightning abilities, I am not too sure I can kill you, and most definitely not in the timeframe I would have.” Zelrius only smiled and nodded at the compliment, the ego was being fed. “Well, speaking of abilities, I might have some strings I can pull, just be a good boy in the courtroom and not try not to be too smart-assy or cynical. Trust me, I know. Furthermore, I suggest you know attack Fallien. Not because I don’t think you could beat it. But because it wouldn’t be the right thing to do for the good of the people…” Zelrius suddenly trusted the angel enough to expose just a tiny bit of his soft spot for the general public. “You don’t really need to worry, I am a being of holiness and light, I love to fight but I HATE killing people.” He cut off as they came in front of a large building and asked “Is this it?!”

Before coming within seeing range of the guards, Zelrius quickly got behind Michael and whispered “Play along, put your hands behind your back act and let me cuff you. We cannot get back through without it.” Much to Zelrius’s surprise, michael almost entirely complied with the exception of a few small details, but nothing the guards at the gate would notice. Without the guards making a single comment the boy did his normal routine in the Fallien tongue “Brigadier of the Jya’s Keep, Zelrius Blackfyre with a prisoner in custody. He is from the recent escape of Outlander’s Quarter. I am taking him to court now.” To which the man he was speaking to gave a curt nod and let them through. When the two came upon the Courthouse, experiencing little to no stares or problems in between gate and courthouse, Zelrius stopped and opened the door, and to Answer Michael’s question, “Yes, this is it. I am going to walk in with, sit you down, and then be on my way. I will return before you get a sentence…” Quickly, he realized he maybe let on a little too much information and did as he said he would. With a usual egotistical stroll into the courthouse, and Michael following, Zelrius couldn’t hide his bruises and scratches about his body. This would not help Michael’s case, and would hurt Vesuvius’s reputation a bit. As of right now, however, that last bit was of no concern.

“I convict this Outlander for high treason and attempting to smuggle himself into the Land of Fallien against permissions and laws. Allow him to defend his case, and allow one of the High priestess to gather information and prosecute, I will be back by nightfall.” To which the jury sat back down after saluting the Brigadier, and the Judge began his reading of Outlander’s rights as Zelrius made his way to his local home for some rest. Michael had tried at first to help his case as best he could but when things like “Murder” and “Terrorist” began to pop up many many times even after proving he had done neither, The angel began to get frustrated. The light began radiate once more, and the Judge smirked. This is exactly the kind of reaction both the high Priestess and the Judge wanted to garner. But they had no idea what any of this really meant, they just could tell enough that anger was building and may reach a tipping point, may. The Judge began to read the sentence at Nightfall “I, by order of the Jury, One the high Priestesses of the Jya, and Brigadier Blackfyre, convict you of The following crimes: Harming a Soldier of the Keep, High Treason against Suravani and Fallien, Entering Fallien Territory without proper permissions or documentatio-” Michael quickly interrupted “I did have proper documentation it is all in my room in Outland-” “HUSH” Hissed the Judge. “Now, where was I? Ah yes, Entering Fallien territory without proper permissions or Documentation, along with purposefully resisting arrest. What have y-” Another cut in a sentence when Zelrius kicked open the door, followed by some Keep officials. And none too soon. Michael was already garnering energy to begin a devastating assault like the court probably hadn’t seen. The jury gulped and welcomed the interruption by the Keep, they were getting a bit worried at unusual amount of light glowing from the night sky and the slight shaking that some thought was imagination.

Blackfyre Grinned and walked into the giant room with much familiarity. “Salil, Salil, Salil… In case you didn’t notice, I am actually hurt and in pain. When’s the last time you’ve seen me with an injured?” to which the Judge, who could now be identified as Salil replied “I do not see how this is releva-” “Salil, I asked a damn question. Answer it.” With a nervous chuckle Salil replied “Since your arrival, when you were not a piece of the Keep…” Another arrogant smirk “Correct.” “I am going to interject here, since I do not enjoy hurting innocent people and have no wish to kill you.” At this point he held up his hands and melted the cuffs. “You can cut off my hand if you wish, I can just grow it back, but you see you do NOT want to sentence me to death as if me and Zelrius had kept fighting I have no idea who would have won, So save your soul from being smote and lets take the punishment mildly, I AM willing to go the indentured service route, but after the initial period of time I expect to be paid for my services as a mercenary, after all an Archangel should be useful to your faction, and I believe me and Zelrius would make a great team.” The High priestess brightened up a little. The Jya herself was a sickly old woman who had been sworn in about 80 years ago, and still was in service today. This leads into her slight care for a boy like Zelrius, She wanted him to get along with people around his age and act like a boy should. The High priestess herself piped up “Ah, Salil is it? I think the Jya would be more than pleased if we meet both ends: We punish him, He must work under the Keep of Fallien for a set time, and at the end, Lord Blackfyre can decide whether or not Michael here has more than done enough for the country. That and, you do know that Jya favors Lord Blackfyre…” Salil grimaced. he hated how often the Brigadier and the High priestess pulled this card. With a sigh, The Judge slammed his hand on the table. and Looked at Zelrius. Who for once was filled with Hope and a boyish sense of adventure, rather than Arrogance. “Very well,” Salil hissed “On the condition of this: 6 Months of service to the Jya, unless stated otherwise. Zelrius must admit to a probationary mission with a squad of otherwise escapees and Michael. You are to go and clear harpies out of a Nearby temple across the River. Than you are free to travel Freely, Brigadier. But this is all we are making room for, and Nothing more. Adjourned” The literal light died and the shaking ceased, Only metaphorically did it live inside Zelrius who was happy for the rest of the night. As he backed away to his own quarters and as one of The brigadier’s soldiers led Michael to a temporary quarters.

OOC- Some of these posts are mixtures of both JL and I typing, as We were using Google Docs and Skype.. Sorry if this confuses things.

Name of Thread: Forged Like Iron
Judgement Type: Workshop Submission
Name of Participants: Zelrius and JLScrolls

Rewards:

Zelrius receives:
520 EXP
80 GP

JLScrolls receives:
435 EXP
65 GP

EXP & GP Adde!