The Zaishen Order
Ristaron
Because I have not yet had my character fight... I decided to have a fight post... I'll leave it open so people can join. Please only 4 or 5 other people... unless we are all going to be on the SAME page... the last one I started wound up with three or four different areas that got really confusing and I had to tell people to get it together.
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Adjusting his cloak as he passed though one of the many unmarked trails of the North Krytan Province, Ristaron let down his hood when the sun emerged from behind the great cloud which had concealed it for most of the day. His silvery-white hair glistened in the nourishing rays, and he closed his midnight blue eyes to raise his face skyward. His feet, fitted with molded leather boots, came to a slow pause as he enjoyed the feeling of the summer sun. His dark skin never to be burnt by the beautiful but deadly warmth, the ranger halted as his subconscious alerted him of a possible danger.
Opening his eyes, he saw a more secure location, out of the open. As he moved, he searched the woods around him for any sign of the unseen other. Out here wasn't like a city, running into other people was rare with the paths he travelled. The other could simply be another ranger, but something told Ristaron that it was no friend.
Wary of remaining in one place for too long, Ristaron flitted along the shadows provided by the thick canopy, quiet as a ghost. Then, his keen ears heard a quiet whistling, growing fast. Reflexes saved Ristaron's life, as he leaned to the side, evading a thick spear that embedded itself into the tree beside the alert ranger.
Rapiers were in his hands faster than you could blink, and the agile ranger sprinted a few feet before leaping to the side, dodging a second spear. A third spear flew by a few feet away, and Ristaron was certain this would be an interesting day.
The thundering of many sets of feet echoed to his right, and Ristaron took a few steps back, getting his feet right and positioning himself. His arms were raised to the level of his shoulders, one elbow straight, holding one rapier flat facing the ground, pointing at the fast approaching foes. His other elbow was bent, holding the second rapier similarly but further back.
A moment later, three men burst through the thick foliage of the low bushes, heavy swords drawn and held at their side with both hands.
They paused as they considered their enemy, a single ranger. Talking briefly between themselves in a language barely recognizable to Ristaron, they stepped apart slightly to make a kite formation between them and the ranger. Ristaron looked one over, and his muscles tightened when he recognized the armour.
These were men of the Zaishen Order. Tightening the grip on his rapiers, he forced fear from his mind. Fear and primal fury. The Zaishen Order had fought a hundred years war against his people, the casualties on either side were concussive before a truce was drawn.
The Zaishen Order were zealots bent on elliminating enemies of Balthazar, a status they gave to whomever they pleased. The appearance of Ristaron's race had earned them it in this occasion.
"A long way from home, aren't you?" said the one in the middle. Ristaron's midnight eyes focused on him.
"I could say the same for you".
"Talk later", said the one to the right, "this piece of go-se has no right to be anywhere outside his filthy homeland." He spat, then took a step forward. Ristaron's trained eyes could see the weak points of their armour, which was made of bamboo.
With practiced timing, the Zaishen fighters set towards the ranger. Ristaron knew his only chance, and darted to between the middle-man and the one who had spat. His rapiers parried their attacks, and one found its place between the bamboo rungs, the length of the front of the blade cutting shallow into the Zaishen's skin. The ranger drew back, adding a slicing momentum to the sword, and it came back bloodied.
The middleman steadied himself and looked down at his abdomen, the gash was long, and relatively deep. If he didn't stop the bleeding soon, he would lose consciousness.
The other two Zaishen zealots were already making a second run, and Ristaron set himself into a complicated weaving pattern he had developped fighting Firstwatch Morgin of the Lionguard. Keeping his ground, the ranger focused on the silent Zaishen, who was put on his heels by the precision the ranger fought with. Using one blade to fight off each Zaishen, Ristaron was fighting fantastically. After a few moments, the ranger swayed to avoid a downward rend from the zealot who had spat, and whirled around to drive the hilt of one of his rapiers into the back of the Zaishen's head. The fighter fell to the ground, dazed, as Ristaron threw himself into a flurry of attacks that wore down the last zealot. Eager to finish the fight, Ristaron extended his elbows and tilted his upper torso. The ranger then twirled, forcing the Order warrior to parry his downward strikes. After two, the man was not fast enough to get the third.
But Ristaron would not kill unless he had to, and at the last minute straightened his wrist and stepped forward more so that instead of the blade slicing through the tendons in the man's shoulder, it was the pommel of the rapier that slammed into the Zaishen's collar.
Falling to his knees from the force of the strike, the warrior dropped his sword and fought to stay conscious. A second later, the hilt of the other rapier struck the back of his skull, putting him out like a light.
Ristaron looked up to see the first Zaishen has activated his signet ring, and watched as the rune's glow surrounded the fighter and restored some of his health.
A healing signet, of course, Ristaron sighed and returned to a ready posture. He watched as well the second zealot get up from the ground, out of his daze. His nerves were alive, making him tremble with excitement and apprehension. Ristaron had once been the finest bladesmaster of his village, but he could only stand so long against multiple trained opponents.
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997 words of story, lol.
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Adjusting his cloak as he passed though one of the many unmarked trails of the North Krytan Province, Ristaron let down his hood when the sun emerged from behind the great cloud which had concealed it for most of the day. His silvery-white hair glistened in the nourishing rays, and he closed his midnight blue eyes to raise his face skyward. His feet, fitted with molded leather boots, came to a slow pause as he enjoyed the feeling of the summer sun. His dark skin never to be burnt by the beautiful but deadly warmth, the ranger halted as his subconscious alerted him of a possible danger.
Opening his eyes, he saw a more secure location, out of the open. As he moved, he searched the woods around him for any sign of the unseen other. Out here wasn't like a city, running into other people was rare with the paths he travelled. The other could simply be another ranger, but something told Ristaron that it was no friend.
Wary of remaining in one place for too long, Ristaron flitted along the shadows provided by the thick canopy, quiet as a ghost. Then, his keen ears heard a quiet whistling, growing fast. Reflexes saved Ristaron's life, as he leaned to the side, evading a thick spear that embedded itself into the tree beside the alert ranger.
Rapiers were in his hands faster than you could blink, and the agile ranger sprinted a few feet before leaping to the side, dodging a second spear. A third spear flew by a few feet away, and Ristaron was certain this would be an interesting day.
The thundering of many sets of feet echoed to his right, and Ristaron took a few steps back, getting his feet right and positioning himself. His arms were raised to the level of his shoulders, one elbow straight, holding one rapier flat facing the ground, pointing at the fast approaching foes. His other elbow was bent, holding the second rapier similarly but further back.
A moment later, three men burst through the thick foliage of the low bushes, heavy swords drawn and held at their side with both hands.
They paused as they considered their enemy, a single ranger. Talking briefly between themselves in a language barely recognizable to Ristaron, they stepped apart slightly to make a kite formation between them and the ranger. Ristaron looked one over, and his muscles tightened when he recognized the armour.
These were men of the Zaishen Order. Tightening the grip on his rapiers, he forced fear from his mind. Fear and primal fury. The Zaishen Order had fought a hundred years war against his people, the casualties on either side were concussive before a truce was drawn.
The Zaishen Order were zealots bent on elliminating enemies of Balthazar, a status they gave to whomever they pleased. The appearance of Ristaron's race had earned them it in this occasion.
"A long way from home, aren't you?" said the one in the middle. Ristaron's midnight eyes focused on him.
"I could say the same for you".
"Talk later", said the one to the right, "this piece of go-se has no right to be anywhere outside his filthy homeland." He spat, then took a step forward. Ristaron's trained eyes could see the weak points of their armour, which was made of bamboo.
With practiced timing, the Zaishen fighters set towards the ranger. Ristaron knew his only chance, and darted to between the middle-man and the one who had spat. His rapiers parried their attacks, and one found its place between the bamboo rungs, the length of the front of the blade cutting shallow into the Zaishen's skin. The ranger drew back, adding a slicing momentum to the sword, and it came back bloodied.
The middleman steadied himself and looked down at his abdomen, the gash was long, and relatively deep. If he didn't stop the bleeding soon, he would lose consciousness.
The other two Zaishen zealots were already making a second run, and Ristaron set himself into a complicated weaving pattern he had developped fighting Firstwatch Morgin of the Lionguard. Keeping his ground, the ranger focused on the silent Zaishen, who was put on his heels by the precision the ranger fought with. Using one blade to fight off each Zaishen, Ristaron was fighting fantastically. After a few moments, the ranger swayed to avoid a downward rend from the zealot who had spat, and whirled around to drive the hilt of one of his rapiers into the back of the Zaishen's head. The fighter fell to the ground, dazed, as Ristaron threw himself into a flurry of attacks that wore down the last zealot. Eager to finish the fight, Ristaron extended his elbows and tilted his upper torso. The ranger then twirled, forcing the Order warrior to parry his downward strikes. After two, the man was not fast enough to get the third.
But Ristaron would not kill unless he had to, and at the last minute straightened his wrist and stepped forward more so that instead of the blade slicing through the tendons in the man's shoulder, it was the pommel of the rapier that slammed into the Zaishen's collar.
Falling to his knees from the force of the strike, the warrior dropped his sword and fought to stay conscious. A second later, the hilt of the other rapier struck the back of his skull, putting him out like a light.
Ristaron looked up to see the first Zaishen has activated his signet ring, and watched as the rune's glow surrounded the fighter and restored some of his health.
A healing signet, of course, Ristaron sighed and returned to a ready posture. He watched as well the second zealot get up from the ground, out of his daze. His nerves were alive, making him tremble with excitement and apprehension. Ristaron had once been the finest bladesmaster of his village, but he could only stand so long against multiple trained opponents.
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997 words of story, lol.
Symeon
Dang it I just posted a huge thing here, then it came up with 'cannot find server' (as so often happens on this forum), I tried to enter the thread again by bringing up the forum separately, accidentally exited the one where I had typed it, and found the huge load of writing had not even come up when I entered the thread again. What a waste of half an hour (yes, I did type that much)
Ristaron
Damn... gonna try again? We need someone to reply with more story so people don't have to work so hard to think of a way to introduce themselves (like strolling out of the woods and asking why it's 3 vs. 1 isn't a good enough introduction...).
Symeon
OOC: I made it so I was a ranger and I was kind of strolling along and then saw the fighting and jumped up to a high point and used kindle arrows+conjure flame, and fired at the Zaishen, giving a queue for you to 'say hi' to me . But I'll try to repeat it (perhaps a little shorter) later today.
Ristaron
**Waiting! **
Symeon
(OOC: Hey, Ristaron. I'm on my Spring Break - lots of time - and I've been looking back at this place, and...I haven't RPed in a while. I want to prove to myself that I still have creative writing skills . Let's RP. Maybe we could just keep it to two, I don't know.)
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Mylena Swiftwind darted through the woods of North Kryta Province, her black hair tied in pigtails waving about and becoming more and more loose as she ran. Carrying her simple wooden flatbow in one arm, she leapt over bushes and ducked under low branches, heading through different copses and lines of trees and bushes that ran alongside the roads and paths. Whenever she travelled alone, Mylena always moved fast, and kept to trees and shadows, or anything else that would block her from the sight of others and give her a sense of security.
Mylena stopped abruptly and crouched down behind a bush. She had reached the end of a line of trees, and could see no other area nearby that would give her cover. Cursing under her breath, she counted to ten and then ran out into the open. The light of the afternoon sun pierced through a gap in the clouds, seemingly shining right on her and putting her on show to anything nearby that could see.
She shielded her eyes from the light and turned a corner, moving fast and staying low. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a copse of trees up ahead, and what she knew to be the beginnings of the Westerling Woods, stretching beyond the Ascalon Settlement and out into Nebo Terrace and the Cursed Lands.
As soon as she arrived within the area of trees, Mylena stopped and crouched down again. Placing her bow on the floor, she took her water pouch from her belt, and poured the cold water into her mouth. Being water cooled from the Bergen Hot Springs, it was extremely refreshing and was said to have the power to provide concentration and healing to fighters.
The ranger flicked her ears up as she heard the cries of men not far away. Suddenly alert, she placed the water pouch back on her belt and took up her bow. She scanned the area nearby, but could see no signs of men, so she began to move slowly along the edge of the woods, beside a hill that rose up over the Ascalon Settlement.
Hearing another cry, she strung an arrow to her bow and aimed through the trees, but still could see no form of life. The ranger decided to take a risk and started to run, sidestepping brambles and trees as she moved further into the Westerling Woods.
Mylena now saw that the hill beside the woods was becoming flatter, and a small beaten trail ran out of the trees and up onto a rocky ledge. She stepped out of the woods, and darted along the trail, all the while looking sideways at the woods. As she climbed higher her view of the trees became wider, and when she stopped to rest she could see the that the woods curved around to the south not far away.
At the moment the ranger reached the ledge, about five metres above the ground of the woods, another cry reached her ears. Scanning the trees, she suddenly saw a speck of movement. Then, all of a sudden, three fighting figures moved into clear view right at the edge of the woods.
Watching the fight for a few seconds, Mylena quickly established that two men in similar armour were fighting a dark skinned ranger with rapiers. The ranger made very quick movements with his blades, but to Mylena it seemed that he would not win the fight, and he was fighting in defence.
Naturally, Mylena had learnt to aid those who were fighting in defence and were lower in number to the opposition. By helping, she would make it a more even fight.
She crouched down and took a batch of arrows from her quiver. Kindling them together as she had been trained to do, the ends of the arrows caught alight within a few seconds. She put all but two arrows back into her quiver, and began to focus her mind on conjuring the power of the flame. Stretching her arms out and tensing her muscles, she created a great flame in her mind, and so that same flame spread around her, empowering her arrows.
The ranger observed the three figures down below closely as she strung the two arrows to her bow and took aim. She stood up fully, and waited for the opportune moment. As the two men wearing similar armour aprroached the rapier-wielding ranger, Mylena took one deep breath and aimed right for one of the attacking men's head.
She pulled the string back with great force and let it go quickly, watching the arrows fly down together. She strung another arrow to fire as a distracting shot to anything the man might try to do immediately after he was hit, and fired quickly. Looking down at the man howling in agony, she saw that both her arrows had hit, one at his chest and the other at the side of his neck. The arrows had sunk in, and his armour had caught alight, dealing great damage to him. The distracting shot hit his face, bringing another scream of pain and stopping him from activating his signet ring. Mylena strung another arrow and prepared to fire a power shot to finish the man off.
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(OOC: Long, I know...let's just do this and see how it goes.)
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Mylena Swiftwind darted through the woods of North Kryta Province, her black hair tied in pigtails waving about and becoming more and more loose as she ran. Carrying her simple wooden flatbow in one arm, she leapt over bushes and ducked under low branches, heading through different copses and lines of trees and bushes that ran alongside the roads and paths. Whenever she travelled alone, Mylena always moved fast, and kept to trees and shadows, or anything else that would block her from the sight of others and give her a sense of security.
Mylena stopped abruptly and crouched down behind a bush. She had reached the end of a line of trees, and could see no other area nearby that would give her cover. Cursing under her breath, she counted to ten and then ran out into the open. The light of the afternoon sun pierced through a gap in the clouds, seemingly shining right on her and putting her on show to anything nearby that could see.
She shielded her eyes from the light and turned a corner, moving fast and staying low. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a copse of trees up ahead, and what she knew to be the beginnings of the Westerling Woods, stretching beyond the Ascalon Settlement and out into Nebo Terrace and the Cursed Lands.
As soon as she arrived within the area of trees, Mylena stopped and crouched down again. Placing her bow on the floor, she took her water pouch from her belt, and poured the cold water into her mouth. Being water cooled from the Bergen Hot Springs, it was extremely refreshing and was said to have the power to provide concentration and healing to fighters.
The ranger flicked her ears up as she heard the cries of men not far away. Suddenly alert, she placed the water pouch back on her belt and took up her bow. She scanned the area nearby, but could see no signs of men, so she began to move slowly along the edge of the woods, beside a hill that rose up over the Ascalon Settlement.
Hearing another cry, she strung an arrow to her bow and aimed through the trees, but still could see no form of life. The ranger decided to take a risk and started to run, sidestepping brambles and trees as she moved further into the Westerling Woods.
Mylena now saw that the hill beside the woods was becoming flatter, and a small beaten trail ran out of the trees and up onto a rocky ledge. She stepped out of the woods, and darted along the trail, all the while looking sideways at the woods. As she climbed higher her view of the trees became wider, and when she stopped to rest she could see the that the woods curved around to the south not far away.
At the moment the ranger reached the ledge, about five metres above the ground of the woods, another cry reached her ears. Scanning the trees, she suddenly saw a speck of movement. Then, all of a sudden, three fighting figures moved into clear view right at the edge of the woods.
Watching the fight for a few seconds, Mylena quickly established that two men in similar armour were fighting a dark skinned ranger with rapiers. The ranger made very quick movements with his blades, but to Mylena it seemed that he would not win the fight, and he was fighting in defence.
Naturally, Mylena had learnt to aid those who were fighting in defence and were lower in number to the opposition. By helping, she would make it a more even fight.
She crouched down and took a batch of arrows from her quiver. Kindling them together as she had been trained to do, the ends of the arrows caught alight within a few seconds. She put all but two arrows back into her quiver, and began to focus her mind on conjuring the power of the flame. Stretching her arms out and tensing her muscles, she created a great flame in her mind, and so that same flame spread around her, empowering her arrows.
The ranger observed the three figures down below closely as she strung the two arrows to her bow and took aim. She stood up fully, and waited for the opportune moment. As the two men wearing similar armour aprroached the rapier-wielding ranger, Mylena took one deep breath and aimed right for one of the attacking men's head.
She pulled the string back with great force and let it go quickly, watching the arrows fly down together. She strung another arrow to fire as a distracting shot to anything the man might try to do immediately after he was hit, and fired quickly. Looking down at the man howling in agony, she saw that both her arrows had hit, one at his chest and the other at the side of his neck. The arrows had sunk in, and his armour had caught alight, dealing great damage to him. The distracting shot hit his face, bringing another scream of pain and stopping him from activating his signet ring. Mylena strung another arrow and prepared to fire a power shot to finish the man off.
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(OOC: Long, I know...let's just do this and see how it goes.)
Ristaron
(OOC: I was on spring break last week, but I'll do my best to keep up with both RPs I'm in now)
Stunned at the unexpected help, Ristaron was unprepared for the quick attack from the remaining Zaishen.
Twisting and letting instinct guide his reflex, the ranger managed to get one of his rapiers on this inside of the Zaishen's blade and draw it out. Ristaron knew his luck was probably spent for the rest of the year, barely avoiding that attack and recieving much-needed help from an unseen ally.
The remaining enemy was smart, and he continued around Ristaron until the ranger was sort of like a shield for him, the archer would not shoot with any risk of hitting the man she was trying to help.
But on even terms with the man, Ristaron needed no help. The Zaishen order had many capable fighters, but there were few in all the lands who could cross blades with the intrepid mountainfolk ranger.
The soldier of the Battle Isles came to realize this as his enemy defeated every attempt and spoiled every opportunity. Realizing he was completely outmatched, he resorted to a desperate tactic. Parrying a two-sword rend from the ranger, the Zaishen used the only advantage he had: the weight of his bamboo armour. He rammed into Ristaron hard enough to send the ranger stumbling back a few feet, and then turned to run.
A well-aimed arrow embedded itself into his calf the moment he was completely turned, crippling his movement.
Before he could get around to go down fighting, he felt the back of his neck grow hot and realized with horror that the darkening of his vision was nothing short of death taking hold.
He fell to the ground with a thud, never to get up again.
Panting from the combat, Ristaron bent over to keep his head clear as he regained his breath.
"Whoever you are", he called into the bushes, "I'd like to give my thanks to your face, rather than your shadow."
Stunned at the unexpected help, Ristaron was unprepared for the quick attack from the remaining Zaishen.
Twisting and letting instinct guide his reflex, the ranger managed to get one of his rapiers on this inside of the Zaishen's blade and draw it out. Ristaron knew his luck was probably spent for the rest of the year, barely avoiding that attack and recieving much-needed help from an unseen ally.
The remaining enemy was smart, and he continued around Ristaron until the ranger was sort of like a shield for him, the archer would not shoot with any risk of hitting the man she was trying to help.
But on even terms with the man, Ristaron needed no help. The Zaishen order had many capable fighters, but there were few in all the lands who could cross blades with the intrepid mountainfolk ranger.
The soldier of the Battle Isles came to realize this as his enemy defeated every attempt and spoiled every opportunity. Realizing he was completely outmatched, he resorted to a desperate tactic. Parrying a two-sword rend from the ranger, the Zaishen used the only advantage he had: the weight of his bamboo armour. He rammed into Ristaron hard enough to send the ranger stumbling back a few feet, and then turned to run.
A well-aimed arrow embedded itself into his calf the moment he was completely turned, crippling his movement.
Before he could get around to go down fighting, he felt the back of his neck grow hot and realized with horror that the darkening of his vision was nothing short of death taking hold.
He fell to the ground with a thud, never to get up again.
Panting from the combat, Ristaron bent over to keep his head clear as he regained his breath.
"Whoever you are", he called into the bushes, "I'd like to give my thanks to your face, rather than your shadow."
Symeon
Mylena watched as her crippling shot forced the target down to the ground, struggling and moaning in pain before laying still. She smiled, satisfied, and looked to the ranger, who was regaining his breath.
At the other ranger's call, Mylena stood up fully and glanced at the steep hillside below her. She was roughly five metres above the ground below. Taking note of a thick tree root sticking out from the hill about two metres down, she adjusted her quiver so that it was comfortable, and jumped, stretching out her free hand.
With a snap, she caught the root with her free hand, and swung for a few moments. Then she jumped again and spun around, landing in a crouching position with her bow held out in front of her.
"I have never seen a ranger so good with blades," she said, standing up and looking the man over. "Your skin colour is not one I recognise. Are you from one of the far southern lands?"
At the other ranger's call, Mylena stood up fully and glanced at the steep hillside below her. She was roughly five metres above the ground below. Taking note of a thick tree root sticking out from the hill about two metres down, she adjusted her quiver so that it was comfortable, and jumped, stretching out her free hand.
With a snap, she caught the root with her free hand, and swung for a few moments. Then she jumped again and spun around, landing in a crouching position with her bow held out in front of her.
"I have never seen a ranger so good with blades," she said, standing up and looking the man over. "Your skin colour is not one I recognise. Are you from one of the far southern lands?"
NinjaKai
(OOC: I've read a bit of the first post. I plan to join once i've read the rest so I can start somewhere appropriate.)
Edit: I've begun writing my entrance. It will be done shortly.
Second Edit: Stuff
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Two Zaishen one a warrior the other a mage, stay knelt only achres from Mylena or Ristaron planning to avenge their fallen comrades.
When suddenly a stranger woven from cloth made for traveling. Yet the green and gold ornate design the clothing was foreign to this land. In his right hand he held a staff of two twisted dragons with jeweled eyes.
"I've been away for so long. Yet things have not changed. The Zaishen are as pathetic as ever." The ornately dressed traveler said with a glare in his eyes.
"He'll spoil our plans. Kill him." The mage spoke. The warrior glowed briefly with an yellow aura as he swiftly ran at the traveler. The warrior moved his shield in front of him and his sword behind preparing to swing. The traveler looked into the warriors eyes as the warrior was flung backwards into a tree. The warrior hit the tree with a thump as his bamboo armor along his back broke digging into his skin, he fell slowly to the floor wounded from the impacted. His shield in shattered peices of wood, his sword implanted into the ground.
"Impossible...What are you?" The mage said in anger.
"Elementalists draw their magic from the world around them. Mesmers magic can effect the very world around you." The traveler spoke once more.
The mage floated into the sky surrounded by a blue aura as she prepared her spell. The traveler raised his staff as a pink aura surrounded him, glyphs formed around mage shocking her creating great pain. As the glyphs disappeared so did the blue aura that surrounded the mage, her magic interrupted as she started her desent to the ground. The traveler stared at the mage falling, the mages speed increased as she fell to the ground breaking her bones.
The traveler picked up the warriors sword and walked over to the mage who was concious but unable to move.
"Say hello to Grenth for me." The traveler said as he swung the sword at the mage. A terrified echo swept through the area. The traveler dropped the blood soaked sword and walked to where Ristaron and Mylena we're curious as to who these strangers we're
(OOC: If your curious the skill that threw the warrior was Psychic Distraction and Psychic Instability. They are two new factions skills given a little RP creativity.)
Edit: I've begun writing my entrance. It will be done shortly.
Second Edit: Stuff
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Two Zaishen one a warrior the other a mage, stay knelt only achres from Mylena or Ristaron planning to avenge their fallen comrades.
When suddenly a stranger woven from cloth made for traveling. Yet the green and gold ornate design the clothing was foreign to this land. In his right hand he held a staff of two twisted dragons with jeweled eyes.
"I've been away for so long. Yet things have not changed. The Zaishen are as pathetic as ever." The ornately dressed traveler said with a glare in his eyes.
"He'll spoil our plans. Kill him." The mage spoke. The warrior glowed briefly with an yellow aura as he swiftly ran at the traveler. The warrior moved his shield in front of him and his sword behind preparing to swing. The traveler looked into the warriors eyes as the warrior was flung backwards into a tree. The warrior hit the tree with a thump as his bamboo armor along his back broke digging into his skin, he fell slowly to the floor wounded from the impacted. His shield in shattered peices of wood, his sword implanted into the ground.
"Impossible...What are you?" The mage said in anger.
"Elementalists draw their magic from the world around them. Mesmers magic can effect the very world around you." The traveler spoke once more.
The mage floated into the sky surrounded by a blue aura as she prepared her spell. The traveler raised his staff as a pink aura surrounded him, glyphs formed around mage shocking her creating great pain. As the glyphs disappeared so did the blue aura that surrounded the mage, her magic interrupted as she started her desent to the ground. The traveler stared at the mage falling, the mages speed increased as she fell to the ground breaking her bones.
The traveler picked up the warriors sword and walked over to the mage who was concious but unable to move.
"Say hello to Grenth for me." The traveler said as he swung the sword at the mage. A terrified echo swept through the area. The traveler dropped the blood soaked sword and walked to where Ristaron and Mylena we're curious as to who these strangers we're
(OOC: If your curious the skill that threw the warrior was Psychic Distraction and Psychic Instability. They are two new factions skills given a little RP creativity.)
Ristaron
Ristaron gave a quick lookover of the female ranger as she approached. His midnight blue eyes flicking so quickly that she wouldn't have noticed had she been watching.
"I've never seen a ranger so good with blades", she commented, "are you from one of the far southern lands?"
"More South than here", Ristaron answered before slipping into a courteous bow. "My thanks to you for your well-timed aid. I am Ristaron. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting here on this peaceful day?"
(OOC: I did not go far in the timeline with this post, I wanted to leave your introduction up to you, Symeon, and then perhaps NinjaKai's character could enter after that.)
"I've never seen a ranger so good with blades", she commented, "are you from one of the far southern lands?"
"More South than here", Ristaron answered before slipping into a courteous bow. "My thanks to you for your well-timed aid. I am Ristaron. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting here on this peaceful day?"
(OOC: I did not go far in the timeline with this post, I wanted to leave your introduction up to you, Symeon, and then perhaps NinjaKai's character could enter after that.)
Symeon
Mylena bowed with her bow still held in one hand. "I am Mylena Swiftwind, from Ascalon. It was a pleasure to help."
She stepped towards one of the dead bodies, and kicked it over so that the front was facing upwards. Kneeling down, she looked closely at the armour. After about ten seconds she stood up, frowning.
"I don't recognise the armour of these fighters. The symbols on them are surely Balthazar-related, but they do not look to be from Tyria. I have heard of battle-worshipping clans and orders who dwell on islands far across the southern sea. Perhaps...."
Sounds of movement in the trees made her look up quickly. The ranger watched as two figures jumped out of a bush, and another figure obscured in the shade moved towards the other two. One of them spoke, and suddenly a yellow light flashed from one of the figures. The aura created lit up the scene, showing two fighters clearly wearing the same armour as the ones Mylena and Ristaron had just killed. But the aura was quickly extinguished as the fighter was thrown against the tree.
"Impossible...what are you?" shouted the other fighter.
A reply came from the other figure, who was still obscured, but Mylena could not hear what was said. Following this, a bright blue aura came up around the fighter. Soon afterwards, a pink aura appeared around the other figure, lighting him up. He wore strange green and gold ornate clothing and a staff that looked like two miniature dragons twisted together.
The sounds of magical interruption filled the air, and the blue aura of the fighter went out. The strangely dressed man moved out of his own aura, and took up a sword from one of the fighters.
"Say hello to Grenth for me," he said, swinging the sword into the body of one of the fighters. He then dropped the sword and moved over to where Mylena and Ristaron were standing.
(OOC: NinjaKai, you're free to introduce yourself now )
She stepped towards one of the dead bodies, and kicked it over so that the front was facing upwards. Kneeling down, she looked closely at the armour. After about ten seconds she stood up, frowning.
"I don't recognise the armour of these fighters. The symbols on them are surely Balthazar-related, but they do not look to be from Tyria. I have heard of battle-worshipping clans and orders who dwell on islands far across the southern sea. Perhaps...."
Sounds of movement in the trees made her look up quickly. The ranger watched as two figures jumped out of a bush, and another figure obscured in the shade moved towards the other two. One of them spoke, and suddenly a yellow light flashed from one of the figures. The aura created lit up the scene, showing two fighters clearly wearing the same armour as the ones Mylena and Ristaron had just killed. But the aura was quickly extinguished as the fighter was thrown against the tree.
"Impossible...what are you?" shouted the other fighter.
A reply came from the other figure, who was still obscured, but Mylena could not hear what was said. Following this, a bright blue aura came up around the fighter. Soon afterwards, a pink aura appeared around the other figure, lighting him up. He wore strange green and gold ornate clothing and a staff that looked like two miniature dragons twisted together.
The sounds of magical interruption filled the air, and the blue aura of the fighter went out. The strangely dressed man moved out of his own aura, and took up a sword from one of the fighters.
"Say hello to Grenth for me," he said, swinging the sword into the body of one of the fighters. He then dropped the sword and moved over to where Mylena and Ristaron were standing.
(OOC: NinjaKai, you're free to introduce yourself now )
NinjaKai
The traveler walked upto Ristaron and Mylena stopping not far from them. He examined their appearance closely.
He then drew his attention to Ristaron.
"The Zaishen must really hate you to track you so far."
He said in a questioning tone.
"Where are my manners. My name is Nekra Vaharo."
Nekra said as he tilted his torso forward slighty in a humble bow.
He then drew his attention to Ristaron.
"The Zaishen must really hate you to track you so far."
He said in a questioning tone.
"Where are my manners. My name is Nekra Vaharo."
Nekra said as he tilted his torso forward slighty in a humble bow.
Ristaron
"I am Ristaron", the ranger replied politely, bowing his head slightly out of courtesy. "And they were not tracking me", he added as he glanced briefly at one of the bodies, "I would have known it many miles back."
NinjaKai
"So you simply stumbled into them like I did. Since when do the Zaishen travel so far from their isles." Nekra in a contemplating tone. "Much has changed since I traveled far from this part of Tyria."
Symeon
(OOC:
Quote:
Originally Posted by NinjaKai
The traveler said as he stared at her armor.
Quote:
Originally Posted by King Symeon
"I am Mylena Swiftwind, from Ascalon."
/OOC)
Mylena bowed her head. "I am Mylena Swiftwind. So these are Zaishen, are they? Of the Battle Isles? Fighters of Balthazar?" She looked at one of the dead bodies again. Then she turned to Nekra. "How many more did you kill over there in the trees? From the looks of it, there were two, a warrior and a mage. Correct?" NinjaKai
"I killed 4 more before I came across the other two. I guess they didn't know mesmer spells pass through armor." Nekra said to Mylena. "So Mylena tell me. What brings you so far into these woods?" Nekra asked out of curiosity. "To travel the seared lands of Ascalon, over the icy Shiverpeaks and through the swamp filled forests of Kryta. The is a curiously long distance even for rangers."
(OOC: Problem corrected) Symeon
"My thirst for adventure brought me here," replied Mylena. "The ruined lands of Ascalon have nothing to offer a hard-trained fighter like me. The stone elementals, gargoyles and Charr die so fast by my flame-powered bow, it simply is not rewarding to kill them, no matter how many of them there are. So, when I heard Prince Rurik's call for the people of Ascalon to follow him across the Shiverpeaks to Kryta for a better life, I decided the time was right for me to make a move." She paused to think, then continued. "It was not so much for the offer of a better life that I came along, but because I saw adventures open to me on the way across and on the other side of the mountains. I fought along with other adventurers to free up the mountain passes so that the refugees of Ascalon could travel across. The Stone Summit dwarves were not much of a challenge in my eyes, and neither are the undead or the various creatures that inhabit Kryta. I am still looking for challenging adventures even now."
Mylena smiled and looked down at the bodies of the dead Zaishen again. "What do you think these far southern islanders are doing here? Whatever their purpose, I am inclined to think it is not a good one." She turned thoughtfully to Ristaron. "Do you have any idea why these Zaishen attacked you?" Ristaron
"My people and the Zaishen", Ristaron began, "warred for decades in the early days of both nations. Though open warfare is no longer persued by either side, there is still hate and emnity between our peoples. They were either defending themselves, or seeking to avenge fallen ancestors." The ranger glared down on the body of one of the Zaishen. It disgusted him. Not the death, but how he revelled in the fact the man was dead.
Tearing his midnight eyes away from the fallen warrior, Ristaron looked over to the mesmer. "Nekra", he said his name slowly, "you seem different from others of your trade. At least, those from Tyria..." NinjaKai
"Allow me to explain. Two years ago not long after the searing, my homeland was destroyed and sunk beneath the waves. Of course you know of where I speak, the region of Orr. At the time I was at Ascalon visiting an old friend. It was only when I returned that I discovered the damaged landscape where ocean and land met in unnatural proportion. With my home gone, my people scattered or turned undead. I had no links worth keeping me in that part of Tyria. So I traveled to the continent of Cantha were I learned many new things such as magics not known to this part of Tyria. As far as being different from other mesmers, I was born in Orr a place where magic was highly practiced. So my magic ability is bound to be higher with such a rich source of knowledge at my displosal. For a time I was the keeper of knowledge. My reason for coming back is because i've been following up rumors of a recently unearthed tomb and if it's the one I assume it to be. Then it might just be the place that holds the weapon i've been looking for all these years. A legendary artefact forged in time beyond measure by the ancestors of Orr, but hidden for its frightening side effects." Nekra said with both passion nad sorrow intertwined within his voice.
Symeon
Mylena listened to the other two speak. She was enthralled by Nekra's story. It made her think about what new fighting skills she could accquire in other lands. His mention of the unearthed tomb and the artifact caught her attention.
"What tomb might that be? The Tomb of the Primeval Kings, perhaps? I have never been to the place, but have heard of it from many other experienced fighters." NinjaKai
"The Tomb of Primevil Kings is not a place even I dare venture. To go there is to invite death. The tomb I speak of is somewhere within these woods. The reason for it being sealed away was because even though it gave the wielder an amazing boost in power. However the weapon slowly ate away at their soul. It is written that once an evil sorcerer used its power and fed of the souls of others so that he would not be effected by its side effect. However on closer inspection, the weapon is incomplete. That is until I find it." Nekra said with confidence in his voice. "Ironically the only weapon my ancestors every truly perected was the scepter of Orr." Nekra looked at Mylena. "You must find all of this curious. Exspecially what new skills I could have learned, let me put it this way. Ritualists are truly a unique people just as assasins are."
Allanon Dark
Do you guys mind if I jump in. I have read what you guys posted and have an idea as to what I might write.
Character: Relyana Creel Age: 21 Of slight build (I can better describe in my writing) Proffesion: Assassin who disdains the use of daggers and prefers short swords and the use of a bow. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Relyana watched from the safe haven of a small wooded area as a fight between some Zaishen soldier thugs and an innocent traveler took place. She had learned long ago to not meddle in other people's business and found that she would live longer doing so. Relyana watched as the two slowly encircled the traveler, preparing to come in a pincer move. She didn't give much hope to the stranger. When the attack commenced Relyana watched as the stranger skillfully parried the attacks of her adversarys. He was doing a good job. She was surprised to see the stranger doing so well against two members of the Zaishen. However, she knew that he could not hold up for long. The Zaishen soldiers, all discriminations aside, were well trained soldiers and knew how to effectively use their skills to compliment one another. Relyana watched as the stranger tired and the Zaishen gain the upperhand. Relyana's eyes flickered quickly to a small disturbence in the woods directly to her west. It seemed as though another Zaishen patrol had responded to their beleagured friends battle cries. So it came as a surprise to her that the arrow fired from the trees hit a Zaishen soldier and erupted into flames. A second shot from the unseen warrior caught the Zaishen full in the face. These two shots from the trees gave the stranger some valuable time to get inside the soldiers defenses and land a fatal blow between the armor joints. This stranger knew how to fight, but so did the remaining Zaishen warrior. The remaining Zaishen slowly circled the stranger until he became a meat shield from his unseen assailant in the woods. She wondered what he would do know. Relyana suspected some form of cowardice to come forth from the soldier and was not disapointed. After a mad dash to knock over his immediate threat, the Zaishen warrior spinted down the road. Not bothering to duck or weave he made a easy target for he sniper in the woods and fell dead to the ground with an arrow sticking out of his gord. Relyana watched as the stranger on the ground heralded his unseen help from the woods. The strangers unseen helped was a women. Relyana could not get a good read on her because of the distance that seperated them but could tell that she was a master marksman by her skillful shots and was not to be crossed. While the two strangers were exchanging greetings, Relyana's heightened senses alerted her to the presence of two more Zaishen still in the distance. Relyana knew that the previous encounter with the two slain Zaishen had tired the slayers and that they could not be well prepared to fight again so soon. Relyana watched and waited for the Zaishen to avenge their fallen comrades. Waiting for the Zaishen to engage the two travelers, her senses picked up a third life form in the distance. Another Zaishen she presumed. It seemed to not be another Zaishen though due to the reaction of the two in the distance. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, a warning of magic in the air. After a slow build up the magic that she knew was coming came. Though she could not see from whom the magic emaneted from she could tell that it was powerful and it would be prudent to not be on the recieving end. The first of the second Zaishen patrol was dispatched quickly as a yellow glow surrounded him as he charged the third presence and was thrown against a tree, breaking his back and neck. The second of the Zaishen, a mage by the way she glowed and floated above the ground was dispatched just as quicky and mercilessly. After having her spell interupted and her bones broken, the cloaked form of the powerful mage came and quickly killed the other with a confiscated blade from the other dead slain soldier. "Smart", thought Relyana. "Show no mercy, expect no mercy. You'll live longer" Relyana was getting tired and sore of waiting on her belly. She had patience though and was willing to wait a little while longer for the strangers to leave so that she could raid the dead corpses of any valuable loot. Symeon
OOC: I'm still here , just waiting for Ristaron to reply first before I do a reply.
Ristaron
(TS: Roger)
The ranger RED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GOed a fine eyebrow at the nature of her quest. In his experience, such relics were best left buried, and out of the knowledge of those foolish enough to hunt for such raw, primal power. His midnight eyes now scanned her skeptically, pondering what may come to pass should she find the tomb. "And what do you intend to do with this boost of power, once it is completed?" edit: real nice... my professional-looking piece is defaced by some censor that makes the reader get the wrong meaning because the word is blotted out. c-o-c-k-e-d, as in 'raised'. RED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GOin' word censors not scanning the whole word... NinjaKai
"Mesmer are also known for there mental abilities. I can feel that you doubt my words. In truth I don't plan to use the weapon at its full power. I created this." Nekra said as he pulled out a golden orb. "The Orb of Souls. Using Orr spells of weapon forgery and a little ritualist spirit tuning. I created this as a seal to limit the staffs power. I will be able to utilize atleast one tenth of its full power, which is all I require. I'll gladly explain how it works if you wish. However, I assume my reason for using it is more important to you." Nekra looked into Ristarons eyes. "All the staff will do at such a low level will simply increase my energy two fold and allow me to manipulate the spiritual energies easier that are required for certain ritualist spells. Provided I created the orb correctly, the second the two magics react the staff will implode destroying it forever."
Ristaron
"A noble goal", the ranger answered, "to destroy something that could be extremely dangerous in the proper hands". Ristaron took to heart Nekra's empathic abilities, forcing himself to maintain a placid demeanor. The ranger hated, above all else, when someone else knew his thoughts... even if it meant the person knowing of his appreciation for them.
Symeon
OOC: Ristaron, why not just write 'raised' instead of 'RED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GOed'? Other words that people use which have the same problem: peaRED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GO, RED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GOroaches, RED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GORED ENGINE GOtail... I don't know if it could be fixed or not...
IC: Mylena listened to Nekra describe the tomb, but as Nekra and Ristaron talked, she found herself looking over at the dead bodies of the Zaishen again. She walked over to one of the bodies, and knelt down beside it, examining the clothing and the armour. These men are fighters of Balthazar through and through, Mylena thought, but what are they doing so far from their own isles? Abruptly, a gust of wind blew over her face, and she shielded her eyes for a few seconds. When she looked down again, she saw a scrap of parchment on her lap. What's this? Picking it up, she smoothed it out and held it with both hands. It was covered in scruffy writing that was barely legible, but Mylena's careful eyes could just about read it. Must have blown out of the Zaishen's pocket, she thought, and began to read. Remember the words of Balthazar in the sixth scripture: 'Have no fear, for you are my soldiers, and you shall conquer those that stand in your way. Do not stop fighting your enemies until they are satisfyingly defeated.' The dark-skinned people have already been to the unearthed tomb in the woods, and stolen the artifact. Find them, eliminate them, and retrieve the artifact. Mylena's mouth had opened half a centimetre with each sentence. She turned to Ristaron and Nekra, holding out the parchment. "You must read this. It has implications for both of you. We are certainly not safe here." NinjaKai
Nekra went over and looked at the parchment. "Fools seeking a weapon of such power with no knowledge of how to use it." Nekra gave the parchments message little worry.
"Those Zaishen are so foolish. That tomb was made by the ancestors of Orr. They'll be lucky if they even survive the gate keepers. Let alone the pit of one thousand lost souls. There are creatures and magic down there far older than they could ever imagine. But to be certain I must hurry to the tomb before they do. Follow if you wish, but be warned once you walk the same path as me there is no leaving till it ends." Nekra said as he became engulfed in a pinkish aura. He ran North in the direction of the tomb. His speed increasing to unatural portions. This was obviously the effect of a spell. Ristaron
(OOC: Symeon, when it ruined my perfect post the issue became personal. And I make no exceptions when something is personal. )
Ristaron looked up quickly as Nekra began to depart. But for all his protest he could not get her attention before the mesmer was speeding off. "Fool!" the ranger hissed, "there are probably a dozen Zaishen there already!" Though Ristaron would never have admitted to such a bold accusation, it was true that there were few in the entire realm of Tyria who could cross blades with the intrepid ranger. But Ristaron knew his limits, though, and even with the help of a mage a dozen trained soldiers would easily outmatch him. As if in response to the doubts of the party's capability, a howl resounded throughout the woods. It was the most comforting sound to the ranger, for this particular pitch he recognized. "Morgan!" he called out. A few moments later, the travelling partner he had briefly parted ways with a day earlier burst through the foliage. Five hundred pounds of gray fur tackled the ebony-skinned ranger, pinning him on the soft earth so he could not escape a barrage of affectionate licks on the face. Unable to shove off his amusement, the ranger chuckled as he tried to get his faithful companion to cease her playful kisses. Symeon
'Wait!' Mylena shouted to Nekra as he moved off. 'If the dark-skinned people the note mentioned -' she broke off, and glanced at Ristaron. 'Would your people do such a thing as steal an artifact from an ancient tomb? And if so...' she turned to look at Nekra who was still running, 'Then it wouldn't make sense for us to head to the tomb. If the Zaishen know the artifact has been taken out of there, surely they will be looking around the area in general and not just gathering at the tomb.'
Mylena jumped as a large creature rustled through the bushes and threw Ristaron to the ground. Then she realised it must be his pet. 'Ristaron, if the dark-skinned people the note mentioned are your own, then the Zaishen are certainly after them. They are trying to eliminate them, and retrieve the artifact.' NinjaKai
Nekra stopped to see that they had not followed him. "Good." Nekra held up his staff and chanted a spell in a language that was chilling to the bone. Slowly from the ground undead slowly rised. "Without the Sceptre of Orr I can't control them. But atleast it will give me some time." Nekra said as he headed back in the direction of Ristaron and Mylena until he was near them. "We must hurry. The undead now awaken in these woods. A large amount move upon the staffs location."
(OOC: Symeon, next time think before making a post. Because changing it right after i've made a post in response to it makes my character look like a fool.) Ristaron
At last managing to free himself from Morgan's girth, the agile ranger slipped out from underneath his faithful companion* and stood. He stroked the enormous gray wolf behind her soft ears as he digested Mylena's point.
"That would give the Zaishen an excuse for having been hostile. The war between our peoples has not been open conflict for decades". Further contemplation of the issue was halted with the return of the eager-footed Mesmer. "We must hurry", she declared, "the undead now awaken in these woods. A large amount move upon the staffs location." "The undead?" echoed Ristaron, "why would they awaken? And why should we go so quickly to the tomb if the note says 'the dark-skinned people have already been to the unearthed tomb in the woods, and stolen the artifact'? It sounds to me like I should be better to go in the opposite direction!" NinjaKai
"Ristaron there is are many things the tomb conceals that are not written on parchments or scrolls. But knowledge given through magic to each Keeper of Knowledge. And within the tomb is the method to track the staff. So none will have known about the tombs other secrets but me. We must hurry if we do not recover the staff and it awakens in the hands of someone who is foolish enough to use it. It will unleash a wave of power killing all in its wake. It will make the Searing look like childs play. Besides do you really think your people would hand over such a weapon to you, unless there is some information that you would with hold about yourself." Nekra said as he headed in the direction of the tomb.
Ristaron
"You're not understanding me", the ranger said irritated, as Nekra turned. Quickstepping in front of the man, Ristaron turned to face the mesmer, locking him in his midnight blue gaze.
"If my people already have the artifact, they will be gone, and there will be a dozen Zaishen there, looking for someone like me! And I would beg an explanation on why only you know of this mysterious information. If these dark-skinned people are the mountainfolk, I can assure you that they have access to countless ancient secrets from any of the major continents - though the rumours of their dark intentions are greatly eggagerated. One single mesmer would not have access to secrets that have escaped the minds of the leaders of the many mountainfolk societies. Added that I barely know you, why would I willingly throw myself into a most-likely fatal situation for the chance of you finding what is probably already in the hands of experts in handling such magic?" OOC: I don't mean to be delaying the story... it's just not sensible from my character's position to trapse off after some long-lost artifact that, by what we currently know, is long-gone -- in the possession of people who know what they're doing (mountainfolk archeologists). Symeon
OOC: Eh? What exactly did I change that made you 'look foolish'?
IC: Mylena watched Ristaron move up to Nekra, talking to him, and looked down at his huge pet. The expression on the animal's face looked to be aggressive, but he was standing back, away from his master. Stroking the pet and looking into the trees as the cool wind washed over her face, the ranger wondered what she was getting herself into. She had come out into North Kryta Province with the intention of heading west into the jungle in search of adventure. Now, in the middle of the Westerling Woods, she had met two strangers from far-off lands both involved in a confusing mix of events. She turned back to the other two and listened to them speak. When Ristaron had finished, she nodded. "Ristaron's right. These Zaishen are probably all over the place, not just at the tomb. If the dark-skinned people have already taken the artifact, then what exactly is the point of us going to the tomb? Besides, these Zaishen are looking for people like Ristaron. If we run into a group of them, they would probably stop at nothing to annihilate him. If you are after that artifact, Nekra, I suggest we look elsewhere, to see if we can find these dark-skinned people that have taken it...and, to try and stay away from the Zaishen." NinjaKai
"There is one way to find out if it was your people. I'll simply drag one of the souls of those who died at the tomb recently." Nekra said as his hand glowed an eerie blue. Holding his arm high hand with his palm facing the ground.
A spirit in clothing that matched the style of Ristarons came from the ground with a translucant spirit chain in his chest binding him to the earth. "Ristaron you and I are both eager to know the truth. Ask this tainted soul what questions you wish." Nekra said as he looked at the spirit. "Answer truthfully spirit and you will spared the eternal torment of being trapped inside the belly of that tomb." Nekra walked over to Mylena and stood in front of her. "I wouldn't worry about the Zaishen. Because..." Nekra said as he disapeared into vapor. "What they can't see." Nekra said as though his voice came from no where. "They can't attack." Nekras voice spoke as he reappeared behind Mylena. "Mesmer illusions can fool all the senses. I could make a person think they have had their arm cut off and they would feel the pain as though it we're real. So avoiding the Zaishen need not be a concern." Nekra disappeared once more in illusion reappearing next to the spirit. Ristaron
More than a little perturbed at Nekra's ruthless, conscienceless manner of doing things, the ranger looked briefly at the spirit the mesmer had summoned.
"He won't speak to me", Ristaron said matter-of-factly, "not even death can overrule the tradition of our people". The ranger turned to Nekra, a veritable wildfire in his midnight eyes. "I'm an exile of that land, he is risking himself by being in my presence alone. I will not put further dishonour on his soul". Ristaron turned and went off in the direction opposite to that of the tomb, his pace almost a jog. Morgan, seeing her dear friend abandoning the situation, didn't need to spend any time making her choice. Though she was not his pet, she was his companion through travel and battle. Her loyalties were with the otherwise ronin ranger. In a mere three steps, the five hundred pound wolf had caught up with him, and was matching his stride. NinjaKai
The chain that held the spirit disappeared along with it so did the spirit. Nekra ran to catch up to Ristaron.
"Ristaron what dishonor did you do that was so great it's enough to make you run off like this. And more curious how could it have been so bad that it got you exiled." Nekra thought to himself. "Ristaron at this rate your going to destroy yourself." Nekra said with a sympathetic tone. Ristaron
"Destroy myself?" Ristaron echoed emphatically, "if I wanted to destroy myself I would go with you headlong into an army of Zaishen all intent on having the head of a mountainfolk for the loss of their relic! There is no sense in me going that way!"
A low growl from Morgan made it clear that she understood the implications of the argument. NinjaKai
"I've changed plans since running of before. However, I will need your help in tracking your people. If not the alternative is unfavorable." Nekra said as he looked at Ristaron.
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