The Chronicles of Raon (pending title)

Petrus rubbed his Bald head and muttered under his breath as he shuffled towards the Dark entryway to the catacombs.
"Why don't you go into the catacombs and meditate acolyte Petrus? Grab me some poison water from the catacombs Petrus!"
Brother Mhenlo was always sending HIM on these depressing errands while the other acolytes frolicked in the gardens of Ashford abbey. He shook his head. Was it really his fault that he was still an acolyte at the age of 23? sometimes it's good to be the oldest right? I mean hey... the teachings of Dwayna are tough reading. all of these things he thought to himself as his white robes shuffled about him.
Petrus Winked at Munne as he walked by, who in turn, upturned her nose and looked the other way. "I see you're on another "Special task" from Mhenlo Acolyte Petrus." She said with a dismissive air.
Petrus Gritted his Teeth and turned around replying with a fake smile
"Yeah well, he trusts the REALLY special tasks to the best acolytes."

When Petrus Turned back around he flinched as a Bright Green Flash Erupted a couple of yards ahead of him! He saw a young man lying on his back scared and panicky, his clothes torn to shreds as a devourer was knocked off of him by a powerful display of magic. What was going on?

A she did eveyday ,since the day of here rebirth as the Daemon's Bain, Tyil Thunder Arrow left her quiet spot in the forest and headed to the catacombs to relieve the undead of thier nonlife. How long had it been now 15 years or more. Time seems so distorted when you live a nightmare. Long has it been since the night with the smell of sulfer and the screams of those she loved. So once again off to apply vengance to the afterlife. Would she ever fined the one responsible.

Turning the corner she almost let out a little giggle at what she saw. A clumsy young boy with a devourer ready for his dinner. Without a blink she raised her Shadowbow and with the knowledge her father had taught her as a child the tip of the arrow grew green with magic fire. Then it was gone finding it's mark in the beast. Then another just for good measure.

The beast fallen and the young one lying there like petrified little puppy. "Now who might you be and what is one so unprepaired doing in the catacombs." Do you seek adventure do you." It would Apear that adventure sought you boy."

Petrus folded his hands into the sleeves of his white acolyte's robes and watched Tyil
with a smirk on his face. He didn't know who she was but he thought what she said to the young man was kinda funny. Slowly he shuffled towards the both of them in his sandals and spoke softly.
"Aw come on now, miss.. all of us desire a little adventure now and then. Good thing you showed up though, I would've been the one dragging his torn corpse back to ashford abbey."
Petrus chuckled softly. He was only an acolyte, he was no monk and so his skills were somewhat limited. but he did have a healing spell or two for the young man so he removed his hands from his sleeves and stretched them out toward Raon. Petrus closed his eyes and mumbled a soft prayer to Dwayna. His fingertips began to glow as the the scratches and scrapes on the boy's body slowly stopped bleeding and then mended completely. When the orison had completed Petrus crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his head.
"Not bad for an acolyte eh... "

A man watched with an indifferent gaze at the small gathering. Using the shadows cast from the outcropping of rocks jutting out from the catacomb walls, Davon Shadows remained hidden from the view of the young white robed man and the brash woman. His own black robes rustled quietly as he detatched himself from the wall, making his way to the others.

Brushing a few stray tendrils of hair back from his eyes with his gloved hand, he spoke in a low but friendly tone. "The lad is lucky to have run into you both." In truth, he hadn't been in too much of a hurry to help the boy when he had been pursued, even though he had arrived a moment before the woman with her bow. A simple conjured flame would have roasted the insectoid, but he had been preoccupied in thought.

"What brings you to this dismal place?" he asked, stopping a few paces from the two adventurers.

Petrus turned to face the man in the black robes and rubbed his own bald head as he spoke.
"I'll tell you what brings me here sir, that ole bugger Mhenlo sending me down to swim in the poison water again, or get eaten by restless spirits."
Petrus shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I tell ya sometimes I think he is just trying to get rid of me. Like it was my fault I miscast the spell and almost burned down the abbey.... sheesh. It was his faulty teachings I say!"

Davon offered a brief, sympathetic smile. "He does have a tendancy to overdo things a bit at times, doesn't he?" Waving his hand briefly at the dark corridors of the catacombs, he continued, "But you're right about the impending dangers of these caverns. I came here to investigate the growing activities within their recessess."

Turning his attention to the ranger, he asked, "And what of yourself, miss? I take it you don't come down here just to save little runts from their dooms every morning."

"I come here daily to hunt that which once preyed on me." she said face solid as stone and somber as the dead. "I am Tyil Thunder arrow of The Clan of the Daemon's Bane. I hunt the undead and the otherworldly and end their nonlives as they ended the lives of my Kin." The ranger kneels and feels the group. "I fear young one you may have left a tasty sent as there are aproximately 5 creatures moving fast this way."

Petrus tensed under his white robes. His brow furrowed at what tyil had said.
"5?" He asked nervously. His first instinct was to run. Petrus could handle maybe a devourer or two, or perhaps one undead minion... but 5 devourers?
He had to admit that he was also somewhat excited, perhaps he would be safe with Davon and Tyil here and he could lend a hand. Doh! But he remembered that he had left his staff back at the abbey! Petrus smacked himself in the forehead and began offering prayers to Dwayna to grant him the powers he would need to survive this day.

"Five, hm?" Davon murmured nonchalantly. "Interesting." With that, he turned to the other three. From the stoic look of the ranger, he knew she would disreguard any caution about retreating. The acolyte, while tense, seemed excited as well. Sighing, he turned once more back to the dark recessess of the caverns. In the distance, he could hear the faint scuttling of pincered legs and the snapping of insect mandibles.

"Very well, then." His hands dropped to his sides as he waited. As the shadows shifted and writhed before them, Davon began to chant in a low, gentle voice, his hands rising slowly, fingertips weaving the air before him in an intricate pattern. Brow furrowing in concentration, the conjurer waited for the beasts to show themselves.

"Hmm an early start." Tyil stated as a half morbid grin came across her face. Five was a nice size group usually she would use a little more cunning, but the conjuror seemed seasoned. And having an acolyte around might take the sting offa little. Inside she chuckled a little at the punn. For some reason she was always happiest when in battle. Although most she fought had already died once, she would have no qualms giving these bugs their first death. Something was going to happen today she could feel it. Her father always told her there are no chance meetings and these four here all at once there was something to that. Oh well these are for later ponderings now is just time to take care of buisness. comming to a kneel on one knee she took up here bow flames sprouted as from out of nowhere at the end of her arrow she looked at the young one tossed him a sword and shield and said in a semi-sarcastic voice" don't worry we have the element of suprise what could happen."

Just then, five grotesque arachnids burst from the shadows, pincers snapping in the air in anticipation as they rushed towards their prey. One sent a sharp stinger sailing through the air with a flick of its tail, though luckily it missed and lodged itself into the cavern wall.

Davon finished his incantation with a shout, his arms shooting forward with hands spread wide. Suddenly, fire seemed to rain from the shadows above them, slamming into the hardened carapaces of the devourers. One screeched as it caught on fire, curling into a ball of writhing pincers, tails, and mandibles as the inferno consumed it. The rest danced and dodged as best they could, suffering small scorches across their bodies.

While they were distracted, Davon turned to the others, hands still stretched towards the beasts. "Anytime you're ready," he said, though his voice was eerily calm and steady.

Tyil turned her head back round from Raon just in time to see the impressive light show at the mouth of the catacombs. She also was just in time to catch a huge quill in her thigh. She was no stranger to pain and she felt the poison setting in.
"It'll take a lot more than a little bug juice to shake me creature" she said with a wince. At that moment she let two arrows fly into one of the beasts then immediately raised both arms and chanted to the sky. As she did this a bright light as if sent by the gods themselves engulfed the creature she had just hit and it seemed to inplode under an emense weight.
Appearently this ranger had a few tricks up her sleaves. She redraw her bow. And let another arrow fly a tremendous speed. Her shadowbow was true to it's mark today.

Petrus' prayers were interrupted when the disgusting creatures attacked. He gasped and froze at first but when Tyil was struck with a quill he reacted instinctively. His eyes closed and he raised his head towards the heavens, chanting a soft prayer as he stretched his right hand out towards the hunter of all things undead. What looked like blue fireflies danced around Tyil's body and a warm surge of divine energy counteracted the poison which flowed in her veins.

Petrus then opened his eyes and backed a little farther away from all the action, hoping the devourers would not set their beady little eyes on him. He then outstretched both hands toward Tyil with a loud holy word and the quill that had lodged in her thigh was forced out and fell to the dusty ground. The wound mended itself though it wouldn't be without some scarring. Apparantly this attracted the attention of one of the fiendish monsters who turned and began scurrying towards him with a vengeance.

"Uh... hey guys..." Petrus said as he looked for some sort of weapon around on the ground.
"They're commin after the squishy one!"

Seeing the advance on the acolyte Tyil quickly switched her target sending an arrow through the creatures leg and solidly into the ground. "Let's see ya give chase now vermon." She said with a raised brow. Ahh the rush of combat and to see the pain this conjuror inflects is truly awesome. Even the most skilled bow would have trouble keeping up and this acolyte may be more of a monk than he gives him self credit for. "For Ascolon and for GLORY!" she shouted returning to the other pests.

I could have sworn that was a devourer I saw, lurking up near the cave entrance I passed but what would that thing be doing here in the catacombs? Reaching down I grab the last skull I needed to trade in exchange for a rather nice artifact that will give me more ability to call on the elements, so that I may vanquish the vile that infests this land.
From a young age Cynder Burn was schooled in the ways of calling forth powers of the elements, at this stage in her learning her skills are evident by the color her hair has evolved into......Red, Fire-Red but you can as well tell her character by the color of her eyes....Ice Blue.
She races up the trail towards the cave entrance and the direction she'd noticed the devourer in. As she draws closer to the end of these accursed catacombs, she can faintly hear the sounds of voices over her footfalls. She slows and kneels, getting a playful cold nose from her companion - Incizor as the timber wolf comes along side her. Just then the scene erupts with blinding flash as the black robed figure lift his hands in the direction of not one but five of the creatures she had been tracking, and they were engulfed in flame.....she liked this dark figure! Springing to action she sends Incizor into the fray a hulking bundle of fur & gnashing teeth, she comes along side the apparent unseasoned acolyte hands already drawing the necessary pattern to call forth a bit of hell fire of her own. As the spell comes to life she directs into the mass of clicking, hissing creatures completely charring the carcass of two of the remaining beast...turning them belly up from the carnage. Quickly turn her attention to the last remaing devourer, who is currently intent on the young healer, she begins calling forth a diffferent kind of magic.......apparent this is as the insectoid begins moving in slow motion as though it's having to fight thru the terrain in a losing battle.
She catches the appreciative and surprised look on the young man's face, and gives a wink & smile in welcome.

With the sudden appearance of the burly wolf and the young woman, Davon lifted up his hand and thrust it forward in a sweeping motion.

"Enough of this." With his hand swept a torrent of fire, a wall of flames that devoured not only the creatures, but the corpses and rocks that stood in its way. The cavern was filled with the sound of rushing flames and the acrid smell of charred carapace. A brief moment after the spectacle had started, it finished, the flames dissapearing into the ground.

Folding his hands once more into the sleeves of his robes, Davon turned to face everyone. "Everyone's alive and well?" Without waiting for a response, he turned his gaze once more to the darkness of the catacombs. "You're all a little young to be out this far. I'd suggest turning back, before something...else, decides it would like a shot." Though confident in his mastery of the element of flame and air, he knew that he could not keep it up forever. This battle alone had taxed him physically, and while he didn't show it outwardly, he knew another effort like that too soon would draw much of his power.

tyil calmly to a seat on the ground where she stood let out a whistle and a call" novaruis where are you? You pesky cat." With that a beautiful stalker came wonder out of the field about 200 yards to the south. One could see this beast had been in my a battle and was tone and awe inspiring. "Silly cat next time you want a lunch break wait til make sure your friend is safe." she said with a slight grin. "well a fine piece of fighting there my new aquaintences. Even young Raon got in a swipe or two. Here Acolyte I found this Rod yesterday whilst in the catacombs you might identify it I have no clues of it's worth." She tossed it to him. The rod floated through the air as if on wings.

"And who might you be friend" she said with a semi smile. "Nice wolf you have there I see we are somewhat of kindred spirits." she inquired whilst resting her head on the belly of her stalker.

I am called Cynder, and yes it apepars (offering my hand for Novaruis to sniff) that we have walked similar paths in our lives. Where it appears you feel more at home amongst the tall trees of the world, I've merely become familiar with them while focusing more of my learning on the magical arts. I am a disciple of the earth, of the wind, of the sea but more attuned with the flame....and I just hate being alone...that is why I have Incizor as a companion. Many moons ago I was venturing in the Shiverpeaks when I came across several Minotaur stalking my friend here, so I began stalking them to see what their plan was. I could tell that although this wolf was but yet a youngling that he would grow to unusual size and that these beasts would take second thought before attacking were it then rather than now. We were entering a clearing when my friend's scent must have picked up the stench Mino's are apt to have and he whirled on them in full savage mode, but I'm sure he knew then that his chances were lesss than slim against to Bull Mino's...but that didn't stop him from making the first move.....this attracted me to the wolf's prowess. Knowing that it was a losing battle and not being able to stand by once the feel of battle was in the air.....I opened myself to the flame spirit and unleashed power onto those creatures with such a fury that it somehow bonded me to the wolf that when all was said and done...he began to follow me...always keeping a safe/disinterested distance. That was when I decided to give myself over to the teachings of nature, so as to bridge a gap between my new found shadow & myself.

OOC: It's been a while, but I'm going to try and get back into some roleplaying.

If I'm a bit slow in this, please bear with me as it has been a long time.



IC: The stench of death and decay flooded the catacombs, the spirits of the foolhardy adventurers hoping to plunder the tomb in search of riches and glory wailed, causing their unnerving scream to resound around the damp walls.

Deep within the catacombs a lone figure stood..a group of five, maybe six undead minions surrounding her.

A heavy hood was pulled up tight around her shoulders, obscuring her face from view and in her right hand she clutched a powerful staff, crafted from human bones.

The floor was littered with human corpses, heavily mutilated by the necromancer's death magic.

She cast a quick glance around the room then bent low over one of the bodies..

'These pathetic humans..when will they learn? They should just leave me be...'

As she muttered this to herself, she slowly removed her hood, allowing her long, dark hair to fall into her face as she began to feed upon one of the bodies, a twisted smile creeping across her scarred and lifeless face as the warm blood ran slowly down her throat.

After a few moments she stood and wiped the blood from her mouth to sniff the air, her brow furrowed as she did so.

Suddenly she spoke aloud, apparently to herself:
"Something is not right..there are more humans invading my privacy.."

With this, she turned and began her descent into the tomb's enveloping darkness in search of the unwelcome visitors.

Davon scowled as the undead charged. Even as the young necromancer attacked with his magic, the conjurer knew that it would not be long before they were joined by others. However, it was not that knowledge that troubled him. He had been drawn to the catacombs because he had felt a presence deep within the decaying tombs; now, he sensed that that presence had noticed them. He had come alone to evade such detection, but the magic that the others were procuring was like a beacon against a starless night sky.

"Everyone," he called, his voice deep and resonating against the cavern walls, "it's best we leave." He knew that presence would come after them. If he expended too much of his energy warding off all of these pesky nuisances, he wouldn't have enough left to defend himself should he encounter another considerable power. Even with this group of younger adventurers, he doubted they would be safe.

He raised a hand, whispering a soft incantation. Slowly, a swirling ball of fire formed against his palm. He finished the spell and thrust his hand forward, sending the fireball into the midst of the advancing corpses. The explosion wasn't ment to destroy them; that would have expended too much energy. Instead, the shock of the fireball threw all of the undead on their backs, stunning them briefly.

"Back, quickly. Fighting is pointless, they'll just keep coming." One of the corpses shambled back to its feet, and Davon responded with a burst of lightning from his fingertips. The bolt slammed into the things chest, hurling it back against the wall. However, it slowly regained its footing and began to advance again. The undead were notoriously hard to keep down.

"Come!" Black robes swirled about him as he kept his magical barrier up, fending off the encroaching beasts. He didn't want to be in this tomb should that dark presence show itself. He felt confident that he could handle himself as long as he didn't have to waste too much energy, but he did not want the deaths of others on his conscience.

good stuff mate

Marion grasped the staff which Tyil had tossed his way. He held it horizontally in both hands, inspecting the fine drawings and beautifully crafted inscriptions along the shaft. The staff eminated a faint glow and was warm in his hands. The staff had been bathed in the fount of Dwayna at the temple of ages. It was a powerful artifact indeed and he wondered how it got into the vile catacombs. Perhaps dropped by a more careless monk. Well he would not let such a find go to waste, and thought it best to not let the others know its true worth. He smiled to Tyil.
"Eh... it will do miss. Thanks."

It was then that the undead charged. It was too many as Davon had pointed out and Petrus was of the same mind. In a flurry of flowing black Davon turned and beckoned for the other's to follow. He thought it odd that such a powerful mage would run, but PEtrus figured he had good reason. The young acolyte just had to try out this wonderful gift before he fled and while the Undead soldiers had been knocked down by Davon's fire, Petrus extended the staff towards one of the lifeless ones and hurled a shimmering ball of divine power into the face of one of the walking dead.

The undead soldier screamed with a sickening gurgle as heavenly might poisoned his flesh and burned his rotting bones. Petrus smiled with delight, but the blast was not enough to stop the creature. it only slowed him down, and pissed him off. Petrus spun around and kicked off his sandals so that he could keep up with Davon.

"Dam you Delvana, send your hordes to fight you coward!" tyil screamed in anger into the depths. Yes she knew Tyil was there they had been joined by fate for a long time now. Everyday the ranger came and sought here out and everday she hid behind her hordes. "Oh and you vile beasts time to unlive no more." she spoke towards the undead. She lifted here hand in that direction. "Mosalis Dwanum Alrasius Returnum!" A bright light blinding in the dim cave shoot forward and engulfed three of the undead. When it faded so had they. gone into nothingness.

With this Tyil took her retreat out of the catacombs her stalker just behind her with a Femur bone of one of the undead between his teeth. "I will find you Delvana and you will have justice brought upon you." "My father had slain you once and I shall return you back to the Abyss creature!" She proclaimed. Upon looking at her on could see the hate in her eyes, a hatred so deep that you almost had to look away.

With the sudden appearance of the undead, Cynder was snapped out of her thoughts back to those early days of her training and travels. Before she could react the dark robed man had already unleashed his death magic into the horde and began a retreat(?). Just at the moment she regained her thoughts, the young sorceress called forth a familiar magic and decimated 3 of the lifeless beasts. Cynder shot her a glance that said "Although you have promising skill and will be very powerful in the ways of magic, you should watch and learn", followed by a smile at the results in appreciation for the passion that she too experienced when wielding the power of the elements.
Seeing that only 1 lifeless fiend was still persistent in it's need for adding to it's ranks, but very weakened by the powers unleashed on it, Cynder set her wolf companion on it fully aware how capable a wolf was with putting an end to the legions of the undead, but for pure please she slowed, turned and pointed and set the walking corpse on fire before turning and leaving the clearing. **I just love that she giggles to herself**

((OOC: I don't like when other people roleplay for my characters, Creamy. Please don't do it.))

I'd say, any contribution should be from a 1st person perspective by the author.....so let's keep it going.

Delvana could sense the trespassers fighting their way closer towards her. She was not foolish by any means. She knew when she was out numbered and over powered, and she also knew these circumstances would change. "SAMETH! Your master calls for you!" the necromancer screeched in an inhuman voice. The reaction was immediate. As always when she summoned her demonic apprentice, unnattural things began to happen. Suddenly the temperature dropped, gust of wind began blwoing form all directions, the catacombs shook, and the already dim caves grew darker. In the shadows, or more accurately from the shadows, formed a gigantic being. The air itself seemed to harden and the shadows painted this montrosity. Standing before Devana was a 10 ft pitch black horned beast, except for the most horrifying glowing fiery eyes which stared into Delvana's soul. Suddenly a sound similar to a dieing man gasping for air filled the room "Howww, may I ssssserve you this day master?" the demon spoke without opening a mouth (for it had none). "There is work to be done. More humans have entered my home, and i am far too busy to deal with them.," Delvana continued "They are weak and weary, you should have no trouble mutilating them, in fact you will most likely enjoy it" the necromancer stated not truly believing her words.
No sooner had the words left her mouth, was the demon gone in a blurr of black smoke. She doubted the beast would destroy the humans, but that wasnt her worry. All she needed was little more time. Time to complete her ritual, time to gain ultimate power.

OOC: Dont you just hate it when ppl try to make there characters like the main story, or the link to everything, or more annoying ridicoulously powerful. Well sry but alot of yll r doin that. I mean between that and having so many characters i decided to not even bother introducing one.

And sometimes ppl have to roleplay for your character in order to make a good story, and thats the point this is a build on thread

OOC: (Ill pretend what ooc means) jolly good chaps, hope you dont mind my feeble attempt

Back in Ascalon Sir Vimes had just recieved disturbing reports from Brother Mhenlo that there was unusual undead activity in the catacombs. Brother Mhenlo was asking for troops to go and investigate, there was also pressure from villagers nearby who were worried about the danger of an attack. Dammit he just couldn't afford to spare troops, the city was under constant attack from the charr. He personally had already led a counter attack that morning. Hmmmm perhaps.......... he could send assistance, yes there was a way. Captain Brelade a veteran of many campaigns had just retired and was living in a small cottage not far from Ashford Abbey, Of course he would need some persuasion to pick up the sword again.
" Recruit Aubin , you wanted to see some action, ive got just the job for you, take the money and the letter on the table........... "

Now time to design a plan of attack on the charr...

(OOC: I don't want to tell people how to roleplay their characters, but I agree with an above post; it's annoying when people make themselves too powerful. Tone down a bit, guys... destroying three undead with a whim when another powerful magic user could only knock them down without wasting too much energy kind of makes things dull.)

OOC: Mind if I cut in ?

As indifferent as Brother Mhenlo was to the plight of young acolytes he sent down into the catacombs for certain tasks, when undead began to prey on large groups of adventurers simply spelunking in the catacombs it warranted concern. Ashford Abbey itself was a popular sanctuary for many travellers passing through Lakeside County. And as usual there were a number of adventurers from all walks of life ambling in the courtyard of the modest monastery.

One such was a young warrior who had found himself a perch on a large concrete block that a mason had simply thrown aside in the corner of the abbey's property. Hunched over slightly, his right hand drew a frayed rag over his longsword polishing the blade meticulously. The weapon was the first large sword he had ever owned and he prized it more than he did his life. His hand paused momentarily as the young man raised the blade to eye level, the edge a hairs-breadth from his nose as he inspected what seemed to be a small abrasion in the otherwise perfect blade. Bloody undead had hard bones.

Completely involved in his work, Magnus was oblivious to one of Mhenlo's acolytes starting towards him. While the young warrior was not a pure man of the cloth, he found himself drawn to noble acts that many monks were known to perform. Imagine his father's ire when he had politely refused to join the Ascalon Guard and instead run off to the abbey to lend his blade in the defence of its monk's in healers.

The acolyte's nasal voice finally broke the small dome of silence that had surrounded him causing the warrior to look up with a slight yelp. "Sir Turan, Brother Mhenlo kindly asks your aid in ushering any stragglers out of the catacombs. A number of senior priests have sensed a sudden influx of undead moving quickly towards the entrance out into the abbey. We just wish to ensure we do not have too many young corpses on our hands." The well-spoken acolyte spoke quickly and eloquently, allowing Magnus only time to stare slack-jawed with surprise. With a stiff bow the monk-in-training turned on his heel and walked away, it seemed that his orders were straightforward.

Sighing deeply Magnus stood up and gathered his belongings. Slinging his pack over one shoulder, one could never know what you could find down in the catacombs dingy depths, the warrior started towards the stone stairs that led into the tunnels buried deep below the lands around Ascalon City.

Passing by a small group of adventurers gathered around the abbey's famed monk, Brother Mhenlo, pestering the pious man with questions on how to become like him. Smiling softly, the warrior nodded in acceptance of the simple task and slowly descended the stairs into the undead-ridden depths. Soon the orderly architecture that belonged to the abbey proper began to disappear. Instead they were replaced with moss-covered stones that made one wonder if the green growth was the only thing that kept the stone blocks in place.

The short trek down the stairs ended in a few familiar faces, both senior monks and intrepid collectors offered Magnus warm grins as he passed by them and started into the catacombs.

Ushering younger novices back up to the surface, the warrior found himself travelling deeper and deeper into the ominous darkness that comprised the area. His skin had already begun to crawl and a small voice in the back of his head urged him to leave yet he obstinately moved forward. It was then that he heard the sound of battle ahead. Furrowing his brow the warrior drew his longsword and removed his buckler from his back. Strapping it to his left forearm Magnus began to inch forward, unsure what he would find as footsteps began to round the first corner.

OOC just lets make sure we dont have too many charachters at once We also dont need too many sirs

((OOC: I'm taking my character permanently out of the story.))

Acolyte Petrus ran off into the distance and was never seen again or heard from or spoken of by anybody.

OOC agreed i mean you were a bit of bad sport there, you could have at least made him die in an exciting way

((OOC: Hmm... perhaps you're right. It was a bit childish. I know you apologized Creamy and i was impressed when you did however it was the comments and opinions and attitudes of certain people which I just didn't agree with. perhaps it was my fault cause I didn't realize what kind of thread this actually was, but the point is my style and this thread don't mix and I'll clash with certain people again in the future if I stay.))