Destruction of Omega 9 (TS)

  • (ooc) Ok, this is my first attempt at starting a TS. So please don't look down on me if it doesn't work, I've got the basic storyline worked out, but not the ending (of course). So, feel free to join :). (bic)

    A few drunks, wary of anyone (or anything) that wasn't shouting and laughing or throwing up, sat in the tavern.
    Dusk flung the door open with, a tinker of glasses falling the ground anouncing his presence. He took a seat at the nearest table and glanced quickly around the tavern.
    Very soon a small group of people had gathered around him, several adventurers included.
    Dusk swallowed what remained of his drink, drawing a small peice of metal from the pocket of his trench coat. Around the edges were 4 holes, and, coloured in yellows and blacks, it looked important.
    On it was a simple diagram complete with three or four lines of text. The object drawn had a smooth outer shell and a square-ish box like structure at the back completed the illusion of a harmless capsule. On the reverside of the thin metal sheet a cut out of the object revealed insides of a complex machine. Arrows and dotted lines indicated that, when active, the device would hinge open. Five sharp spines would fold out in sequence, then expand into disks. What it would do after that was anyone's guess.
    "Ok, I've been reading over this and figured out what it's about. This device-" Dusk waved the diagram "is a weapon. It seems that I wasn't the only thing sent through the rift* to this world. This... bomb, I think it is, came through aswell. And from what I can determine, it is set to go off, in roughly one moon"
    There was a rush of mumers and gasps amoungst the gathering. Avatara spoke up "What does the writing actually say Dusk?"
    Dusk took out the sheet again, squinting to read the very fine print
    "It says:

    (Omega 9) Rift generator- Property of Earth
    Yeild: 750 gigatons.
    Aprox. radiation spread: 130 kilometres
    Type: Mark 12 (Omega 9 model) Rift generator
    Primer: Timed- 60 days
    Clearance: Red level required / retinal scan (bypassed)
    ID no.: 100983471834

    Need to know Information:
    Omega 9, developed 0012 AW**. The Omega 9 can be deployed via Air to Surface missles, or from Sea to Surface cannons. To arm for missle deployment, first access the security terminal (see diagram G4) and input the weapons ID.
    To arm for manual deployment, (see above).
    To disarm, input the ID code. Then remove the aft panel (see diagram N13). cutting wires 4 through 12. Now engage the primer lock. Omega 9 can now be disposed of without any possible threat of destruction.

    and that's it" finished Dusk. "I don't understand much of it really, but the part about the timer I do understand" he admitted.
    "I came to Cythera on top of a very big mountain. So high, that not even the ground was in sight, only clouds. I was making my way down from the top when I was knocked unconcious by a nasty fall. I awoke a few hours later at the bottom of the hill, somewhere near... uhhh... Lands End Volcano, I think. My guess is that we will find Omega 9 on top of the same hill I arrived on"

    A few people nodded, the murmering increasing again.
    "Is this bomb a threat to Cythera?" asked some one.
    Dusk nodded grimly "The Rift weapons ruined my world, I suggest we destroy it before it's too late. We have only one moon, we must make haste"
    Dusk ordered a new round of drinks "I seek any and all who will accompany me"
    Dusk was attracting quite a crowd, and didn't notice when four burly men left a nearby table, walking quietly out of the tavern. They bore news that would simply delight their master, and couldn't wait to get back.


    • If you are interested in the Rift, I think I mentioned it in Dusks description in the Character Info thread.
      ** AW means After War

    I hope this is the right sort of story for these boards, the four men at the end of my post are designed to be the bad guys, you know, you can get plenty of bloody encounters etc :D. (bic)

    (edit) fixed italics (/edit)

    Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

    (This message has been edited by dusk (edited 11-11-2002).)

  • Rogan sat down next to Dusk on an empty chair.
    "If this threat is real, we have to do something about it immediately," he said, "concider me a part of the team".

    Some people say war doesn't solve anything... perhaps they're using the wrong strategy...

  • (ooc) Sorry, the first post was a bit stale, whcih will inevitable put people off. I didn't know who would be with me, so I Coulnd't really have any decent conversations, hope this is better! :) (bic)

    "I am sure this threat is real, very real"
    Rogan nodded, accepting what Dusk had to say. Dusk ordered another round of drinks for the now diminished crowd, wincing as his small sack of oboli grew lighter, and lighter. Some one else would have to pay for drinks soon. Unlike many of the people in Cythera, Dusk had no income yet, and consequencially had little money to splash around. This was, he deemed, a speicial occasion.

    "So Rogan, do you know where this moutain may be? I myself am not sure, and finding it would take time we really don't have"
    Rogan sipped tentivly at his light ale, saying "Can you draw me a picture? There aren't many mountains near Lands End that are high enough to match your descirption, and maybe I could indentify it"
    Dusk fetched a sheet of parchment from Talos, and began drawing what he could remeber in his some what dazed state of arrival.

    When he was finished he showed the sketch around the bar. The drunker patrons simply nodded and grinned "I knows that hill!" being the usual response. To his disapointment Dusk failed to get anymore out of them, and eventauly returned to the table downhearted.
    "Cheer up Dusk! We'll find it, we always do. It looks, from what I can see, that getting to the top would be difficult normally. We could try for a plunge into the volcano itself, it's riddled with tunnels, a labyrinth if you will. In all possibilty there will be a passage through"
    Rogan and Dusk talked and planned for hours, waiting patiently for more people to arrive. Word spread quickly in Cademia, and Dusk was crossing his fingers, hoping this would work to his advantage.

    Dusk was angry, no sooner had he left his old life his new one was under threat. He had tried so hard to leave behind the war, and already echoes, shadows from the past, haunted and tormented him. Maybe this would be the end, maybe finally Dusk could forget his tainted past and look only forward. It was this hope that kept him going.
    There was a knock at the Tavern door, an unusal thing considering that everyone came and went as they pleased. Some one opened it, revealing a large man. His arms were slightly out from his body, letting light stream in through the gap.
    Dusk hesitated, then stood up. Putting his helmet on he joined the man in the doorway.
    "Come with me, please. Alaric needs to see you" Dusk flashed an apologetic look to Rogan, asking him to look out for any other possible adventurers.
    Dusk left the tavern, the bulk of the man he follwed obsecuring his view. The man led Dusk into a small back alley way. The plaster on the outside walls was crumbled in patches, revealing rotten straw inside. An acrid dank smell filled Dusks nostrils repulsivly, but he paid little attention, his mind wandering off. What did Alaric want from him? Was he doing wrong?
    The huge man, Rilto, as he called himself, walked Dusk into a couryard, four moldy doors leading off it. Dusk was having a hard time imaging what was beyond them, and what he was doing here. This wasn't the way to Alaric!
    "What are we doing here Rilto? I thought you said we were seeing Alaric"
    Rilto turned around for the first time since the Tavern, a cruel smile snaked its way across his scarred face "I'm sure Alaric will see you, all in good time"
    With this he shoved Dusk infront of him, whsitling sharply. Twelve men all of similar build jumped from the doorways, yelling obsceities and brandishing their swords like clubs.
    Dusk yanked his bio-blade out, almost slicing his jacket off in his haste. The first three men plunged at him. He hacked and backslashed, weaved and dodged. A total of half a minutes fighting and four men lay dieing or dead. Two were missing arms, one had his head and body seperated by about five feet, and the fourth lay writhing in agony, hands clecnhed to his stomach, his life essence seeping out through his fingertips, breakfast threatening to join the dust. All men had swelling, pusy festering wounds that stank like rotting flesh. This, however, only added to the already rancid atmosphere.
    Dusk ignored the incapicitated men, focusing now on the remaining eight ruffians. He quickly realised that if he was to breath again he would need help. Dusk yelled at the top of his voice, calling for Rogan.
    He parried another unskilled blow and kicked two men, knocking them against the wall. He backed into a corner, the six still quite active attackers closing in, Rilto included. "We're gonna cut you up so small that worms won't even have to chew"
    Dusk gulped, his end in sight. Thinking fast, Dusk saw his only chance of survival in escaping. Glancing around provided little help, and considerbly sunk his already low hope. The men inched closer, laughing and jeering. In a last frantic moment Dusk noticed the half ladder leant against the far wall. It was now Dusks battle training came in most handy, he did an almighty jump, half jumping half running up the nearest of attackers. Slashing underneath him with ferociousness, he made it to the ladder. Quickly scaling it he made for the roof tops of mother city Cademia. More swearing told Dusk his friends weren't far behind. Sure enough Rilto's head soon poked over the roof top, it dissapeared after yet another curse, reapearing as a whole body seconds later. The other men joined him in running after Dusk.
    Dusk could clearly see the stone Taverns roof, and began a mad sprint for safety. Clearly Rogan hadn't heard his yells, but he hoped all the same. Dodging chimney stacks and jumping ally ways Dusk favoured his chances, the tavern getting closer and closer. A stone whizzed past Dusks fleeing head, a quick look backwards told him that they were using slings. The one stone turned to many, and soon Dusk was running with head down. He tripped, twisting his ankle voilently in as the roof below gave way. He fell through, luckily landing on a pile of empty sacks, a storehouse by the looks of it. Dusk attempted to stand up, at first falling down, but then winced to his ankles, the pain close to unbearable. He guessed it was broken.
    I've lost them, Dusk thought. I can take it-
    His thoughts were interupted by Rilto's grinning face "Little alley cat take a fall did he? Awww" the other ruffians leaned down, now only five. A minute later and they stood on the floor, swords still in hand. Except this time, Dusk couldn't run.
    Dusk was much closer to the Tavern now, he yelled again "ROGAN! HELP!".

    (edit) spelling :redface: (/edit)
    Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

    (This message has been edited by dusk (edited 11-13-2002).)

  • Rilto laughed at the helpless Dusk as he walked closer, his blade ready to carve Dusk into little pieces.
    "You should not interfere with our business, private!" he snarled.
    Dusk looked him straight in the eyes, trying to maintain a tough appearance, but was unable to conceal his fear. The other five men approached slowly.
    Rilto looked up at them. "Back off, I'll handle him!" he yelled at his companions. They stopped immediately, forming a circle around Dusk.
    Rilto laughed some more and raised his blade. Spontaneously, Dusk covered his eyes and torso with his arms.
    But before Rilto could bring his sword down on Dusk, his face was suddenly all covered with blood. He jumped backwards, shocked. The ruffian standing behind Dusk fell on top of him, dead. The other ruffians turned around, trying to figure out where that arrow in their dead friend's head came from. But it was too late. In a split second, another arrow pierced the skull of a second henchman, and Dusk managed to pull himself together and take a defensive leap to the side. None too soon, since Rilto was about to cut him in half.
    Dusk grabbed his bio-blade and, without making a sound, he killed the third ruffian. He turned around to face Rilto, but he wasn't there anymore. When he turned his head again, the remaining henchmen all lay dead on the ground.
    Being a little confused by the whole situation and unable to think clearly, Dusk's combat instincts were on top and so he instantly noticed the figure coming out of the shadows from a nearby house.
    "Rogan?" he yelled, "is that you?"
    The figure came closer, revealing its identity. And it wasn't Rogan, it wasn't a man at all.
    It was a woman. In her arms she carried a crossbow, the empty quiver on her back told Dusk she was the one who shot his would-be killers. Dusk smiled instinctively, eyeing the beautiful woman in front of him. He completely forgot about the killings for a second, forgot about how she most certainly could kill him during a second of unawareness. But he had this feeling about her. She wasn't after him, she had just rescued him! He shook his head. "My apologies, dear lady," he started, "I guess you just saved my life."
    The woman smiled. "Indeed, Dusk, so I did," she said, "that was a close call, wasn't it?"
    It wasn't until that moment he noticed her eyes. With that color, somewhat yellow-ish, she would attract a lot of attention, he thought. And her skin was so pale...
    "How did you know my name?" he asked after a moment of awkward silence.
    "Oh, you really don't want to know," she said with a little smile, "but I believe you are not familiar with my name? I am Nevsiriel."
    "Pleased to make your acquaintance," Dusk nodded, kissing her hand like a real gentleman. "Once again, thank you."

    Dusk turned to face Rogan. He came running towards them with his sword raised, red flames illuminating the nearby area.
    "Not interrupting something, am I?" he chuckled, "got into some trouble back there, eh? I thought I heard you yelling."
    "Well, we..." he stopped for a second, "uh... she got me out of the jam quite easily. Those guys back there knew something about the rift for sure! Their leader got away though."
    "Rift?" Nevsiriel asked curiously, her eyes lighting up.
    Rogan looked past Dusk's shoulder and suddenly he recognised the face. "Oh, I see you've met Nevsiriel" he said.
    Dusk's head turned from Rogan to Nevsiriel and back again. "So you know each other?"
    "Yeah" the two answered simultaneously, making them sound like old friends. "Not as good as I want to yet, but that may change" Rogan smiled. Nevsiriel smiled back.
    "She's an excellent archer you know," Rogan said to Dusk, "maybe you'll tell her more about this rift we're going after?"
    Dusk looked at Nevsiriel, thinking for a second before he replied, "Okay, but let's go back to the tavern. I need to sit down and, despite the drunkards, I find the atmosphere there a lot more pleasant than out here with corpses all over."
    Nevsiriel turned to walk towards the tavern. Dusk stood still for a moment, looking at her.
    Rogan grabbed hold of his arm and whispered into his ear, "pretty little thing, eh?"
    Dusk whispered back, "did you see her ear? It was... it was..."
    Rogan chuckled. "Dusk, my friend, you've got a lot to learn about this world. She's an elf, you see."
    "An elf?"
    They followed Nevsiriel back to the tavern.

    (ooc) Introducing Nevsiriel. I'll post some info about her in the Character Info topic soon (bic)

    Some people say war doesn't solve anything... perhaps they're using the wrong strategy...

  • Blackfern watched from the shadows as Rogan and Nevsiriel supported Dusk as he limped back to the tavern.
    Blackfern had heard some shouting and wondered over to investigate, he peeped around a corner just in time to see Dusk run wildly across a rooftop with a few very large men in close pursuit. As Dusk seemed to be getting some headway, he suddenly disappeared into the roof in a cloud of dust and debris. He was about to offer his assistance when he spotted a rather pretty elf loading her crossbow.
    Blackfern Had never seen Nevsiriel before, but he had heard rogan introduce her to Dusk. He waited a few moments after they disappeared into the tavern before he ventured out of the ally he was hiding in and cautiously crossed the street. He entered the tavern and sat down beside Dusk.
    “That was a nasty fall you took.” Blackfern said in a soft undertone. “I was wondering if you would need my assistance in the events to come. You roused my curiosity, I offer my services if you need them.”

    You can fool all the people some of the time, and some people all the time, but you can not fool all the people all the time.

  • OoC dusk im with you... dont worry ill speel roight... laughs joke BiC

    I was flying through a mass of colours my eyes where stung, my motionless body, the endless pull of the rift.

    I sat up rubbed my head and looked around, I was standing in a bar or rather sitting, somebody came to greet me, he pulled my up I gasped looking for words I found them,
    “Greetings” I said
    “Hello and welcome to our world” the cheery fellow announced
    “Who… where” I stammered
    “I am dusk” the cheery fellow announced “and this is Cythera, may I ask who are you and where do you hail from?”
    “I come from the world called earth”
    “Do you know anything about dusk?”
    “Yes it is a blade feared by all in fact I carry one”
    There came a hum and my sword flew up and turned on
    “How did you do that” dusk asked
    “This” I said pulling out my necklace “tis a family heirloom”


  • Quote

    Originally posted by Ramir-gall:
    **< snip>


    (ooc) Ummmm... I'm not sure what to say. I really don't like that post, I feel... I'm not sure, has Ramir-Gall done anything wrong? I feel as if he has, but I'm not sure. I'll just post as if Ramir-Gall has done nothing wrong. Could some one tell me if what Ramir-Gall did was ok? (bic)

    Dusk had just sat down, testing his ankle experimentally shot pain up his leg. A man followed Rogan as he came through the door, just after Nevsiriel. The man sat down next to Dusk saying in a quite voice “That was a nasty fall you took. I was wondering if you would need my assistance in the events to come. You roused my curiosity, I offer my services if you need them.”
    Dusk stared intently at the man for a moment, before nodding. Then grinning. Dusk held out his hand and shook Blackfern's firmly.
    "Great to have you aboard! Do you know any... uhhh... healing magick?"
    Blackfern released Dusks hand and smiled, his undertone voice rising somewhat "A bit, I can probably fix any breaks" Dusk propped his ankle on another empty seat and let Blackfern do his work.
    Soon enough Nevsiriel and Rogan were seated comfortably next to the short Blackfern and the much taller Dusk. The two looked odd together, but were already engrossed in conversation.
    Nevsiriel pushed two more ales across the table and flashed a toothy grin at the look of relief on Dusks face.
    "Thanks. I needed that" Dusk skulled the first half of his ale down, then sipped the rest. Rogan had already sucked down his, leaving Blackfern and Nevsiriel to drink sparingly.
    "We should head off tommorow, for every moment will count. Already the day draws closed" Dusk nodded at the window, the pre-emptive semi darkness filled the sky. It would be a fantastic sunset, incandescent oranges and reds already streaked the sky, ribbon like.
    The light inside the tavern was fragmented. It shifted and swirled as clouds obscurred the fading sun. The atmosphere was pensive and calm. Dusk felt comforted, yet at the same time he could not remember ever feeling so alone. The oranges and reds reminded him of Earth, sending for the first time painfull longings for his war torn world. He wanted only to look open the sky once more, to views its destroyed beauty, tainted and blackened. He wanted proof that his world wasn't worth returning to, he wanted to see it with his own eyes, not with the eyes of his body, or those of his memory.

    _The sky darkened, promising clouds stretched from bleak horizon to bleak horizon. The men hoped for rain, the cleansing and purifiyng feel of real water. They knew there would be none, there hadn't been for the last six years. Another enemy weapon, developed espcsially to disrupt the weather patterns. Now parched dry dust found it's way into every nook and cranny, with little help from the gusting winds. This was Dusks third campaign, barely had he been there, a month, and already he longed for the calm battlefield of the past.
    "This is the last day for me, tonight..." one man pulled his trench coat even closer, the biting cold of night immenent.
    Some one shook their head "No, you're staying here, we need you, sir". The other man ignored him. He put on his helmet, and carefully picked up his gun, checking his sword was in place. He handed to Dusk his tags, and nodded, the look of a man accepting fate. He now walked out of the trench, calmly, but with purpose, with deliberation. No one moved to stop him, they all knew that was impossible, he didn't look back, just walked on. Leaving his life behind, leaving behind his men, his last hope of safety, his trench. Fifty metres, a hundred metres.
    Dusk hide his eyes, as did everyone. Automated defense would make short work of the commader. A tremendous thud, thunder without sound shook the ground, crumbling the rocky walls; their domain of relative safety. Dusk winced, and through a hundred metres of rock, through four other men, through ihs led shielded glove, through his closed eyelids, he saw the bones in his own hand, the whole world around lit up in a brilliant exposure, radiation and energy in it's rawest form pouring out. Blacks, greys and whites painted the gruesome scene. Dusk could see bodies of his enemies, see the bullets in their inert forms. A microsecond of pure radiance and brillance. All the time the same incandescent orange and red streaks blasted away from the impact crater, blundering thier way through metal and flesh alike, scrambling helixes and minds.

    Dusk shook himself, his skin prickling and buring with the memory. Thankfully the others were, too, lost in thought, and hadn't noticed Dusks lapse of attention.
    Dusk regained control of himself "So Blackfern, Nevsiriel, where do you come from?"

    (ooc) Ok, not very creative, sorry :frown:. I would make it longer, but I have to go. (bic)

    (edit) added ending message (/edit)

    Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

    (This message has been edited by dusk (edited 11-15-2002).)

  • I looked back to see the millones run,as the deadly dome of energy came charging forwards, i yelled to Lyra and Anya to actervate the gate they did and we went through... i felt the force of the gate gripping me and my horse as we went through time wave countinuen,then there was a lage roar as we went though the other end of the gate,we apered just outside a stone building and our horses skidded to a stop so they would't slam into the building i asked Lyra and Anya if they were ok and they said ,"yes" and, "yep Pippin im ok"i replyed and said " lets go inside and get a drink".
    When we enterd someone came up to us and said "hello im Ramir gall i can see you three are new around here, so take it eyesy or you could get killed", we said"hello im Pippin and this is Anya and lyra and we do not need help in protecting our selfs we can do a fine job our selfs", "fine then have it your way, if you think your so strong fight me". we all pulled out our littel animals and said "sword plese", the animals my named Tetha Lyras named Letha and Anyas named aetha, all replyed "ok", then they all tranfored into swords. Ramir gall pulled out a deadly looking sword, he tryed to hit us but we alled dogged his swing, then we made our move and he tryed to doge but our swords all bent to his possison but they did not hit they stayed there and made him stay still. Then we put our swords back and order a drink each.

    Yummy! My moldy, crunchy, mouth-watering... drools frruuuiitt cakkeee...

  • Blackfern sipped his drink as he answered Dusk’s question.
    “My dad raised me in our house in the woods north of Pynx. I never knew my mother, but my dad taught me well.” Blackfern continued. “He taught me almost everything I know today, he also gave me most of the equipment I still use. He moved to Catamarca recently, and last time I visited him he was training a few young people in the arts of stealth. I’m not sure where my dad is from, and I have no clue where my mom is from, my dad refused to talk about her. It doesn’t really matter does it?”
    Blackfern sat back, finishing the last of his drink.
    “I’m going to turn in, see you here tomorrow.” He said as banged his mug on the table and got up, heading for the door.

    (ooc) Dusk, do you want Dusk’s name to be spelt with an uppercase D or a lowercase d? I just noted that your account name is a lowercase d and I know some people (forge) get really pissed if you don’t get the case right. (bic)

    You can fool all the people some of the time, and some people all the time, but you can not fool all the people all the time.

  • "I come from beyond the Stonewall mountain range," Nevsiriel answered. She looked at Dusk.
    "I was born in Cumbria. I really don't like Cademia that much... too much people you can't trust."
    She took a sip of wine from a glass she was holding, her amber eyes examining Dusk carefully.
    "Dusk's OK, I can vouch for him," Rogan said with a smile.
    The pretty elf smiled back, "I know."
    Rogan got up from his chair and walked up to Talos to order something more to drink.
    Blackfern hadn't said anything yet. Just relaxing in his chair, listening. There was silence by the table a while. Only background noises, mostly drunken brawl and talking, was heard.
    "You seem to know a lot about me" Dusk finally said, breaking the silence.
    "Not as much as I'd like to," Nevsiriel answered promptly, "where are you from? And what about this rift?"
    She looked at him, examining him more. "That coat of yours seems extremely light and strong. Is that an elven tailor's work?"

    (not really creative this one either, but I have to go)

    Some people say war doesn't solve anything... perhaps they're using the wrong strategy...

  • Razmalak groaned. It was coming, he could feel it in his bones. The talk of a "bomb", the action outside the bar, the Heros gathered in dark corners of the bar, sipping their drinks and talking in hushed whispers... There was going to be an Adventure. Razmalak hated Adventures, especially when they involved him (and somehow, most of them seemed to, though somehow never with his prior consent).

    He was sat in the middle of the tavern, at a table to himself. Despite his vaguely occult robes he was ignored by everyone. No-one takes any notice of you if you sit in the middle of a crowded tavern. Razmalak had picked that up. If you wanted people to notice you you had to sit in a darkened corner, hood covering most of your face in a conspicious manner.
    Nothing like looking mysterious to get attention.

    Razmalak leaned back in his chair and knocked back his Vodka. After his eyes had stopped watering he allowed the conversation to wash over him again. With a grin he thought back to his childhood; how his well meaning, but somewhat deranged, mother had sent him off to the Dark Academy at the tender age of eight. He still rembered that time with a tear in his eye (unless that was the vodka). He spent the first two years at Academy peering out from under robes that seemed to be designed for a troll. His time learning the Dark Arts had never been a happy one. He had left the Academy with only a deep abiding hatred of alchemy and a pet ratlizard, who traveled with him everywhere. He also left in rather a hurry, but that's a long story...

    Razmalak blinked a couple of times. The Vodka was beginning to make him feel...
    The conversation around him was briefly interupted by the the sound of a head connecting sharply with a table, incedently upsetting a pint mug and pouring half a glass of warm ale into the slumbering Razmalak's ear...



    "Your superior intellect is no match for our primative weaponry!"
    (url="http://"")Don't ask, just click.(/url)

  • (pirate voice)OOC: This be a bad time for the bold TSs braving the seas, mateys! I will join this so-called quest for this so-called 'bombe' to destroy it, mateys!(/pirate voice)

    BIC: Therru sat at the corner with Eroldur and Martel. This doesn't count Larc, who was drunk on the floor, dozing. Martel frowned at the strange word, 'bomb'. He had never heard of such a thing. He stared at Eroldur who shrugged and stared back at his ale. He took a swig and looked at his father, Therru, who nodded. Whatever a bomb was, action would be taken. Martel approached Dusk.

    "I don't believe we have had the opportunity to meet, but I assure you that our services will be rendered to you, free of charge, of burden or of stupidity in action."

    "Forget Larc then." Eroldur chuckled, out of his usual (sp?) pessimism. "He's useless now!"

    "Maybe he'll catch up." Martel suggested. Therru still remained in thoughtful silence at the table.

    "Bomb..." He murmured, stroking his chin. He leaped up onto the table and out the window. Behind him was a quickly scribbled note, 'Researching. Leave without me, I will catch up.'

    "Look, a distraction!" -Fletcher Dostie

  • Dusk turned to wave good bye to Blackfern, but only caught a glimpse of his retreating back. No sooner had he spun around, another man walked boldly up to Dusk, walking tall and straight. This man clearly saw the best in every situation, a man not afraid of any reasonble situation, only showing fear or, indeed, any emotion at all untill he thought it would help.

    "I don't believe we have had the opportunity to meet, but I assure you that our services will be rendered to you, free of charge, of burden or of stupidity in action."
    Dusk looked him up and down once more, a met his eyes. The man looked straight into Dusk's eyes, not shying away or slumping, holding the scrutinizing stare.
    "I would be honoured to have you aboard, uhhh..."
    "Martel" he said "this is my friend, Eroldur, and my this is my father, Therru. My companion Larc is off researching this, 'bomb'."
    Dusk grinned at the company, saying happily "Tommorow we will have a team fit for Alaric himself!"
    Eroldur smiled, pulling one of the bar stools over.
    "What exactly is this bomb?"
    Dusk was cut off before he could speak by Nevsiriel "C'mon, my turn now! You havn't told me anything about that coat of yours yet."
    Dusk was torn. Luckily Rogan relieved him, taking Eroldur and his company to the other side of the now more empty bar, carrying the small metal sheet with him.

    Dusk smiled and leant his elbows on the table "In my world we never even believed in elves."
    He enjoyed to look of amazement on Nevsiriels face "You're joking! So you're telling me that people didn't even believe in elves? What about dwarves? Dragons?"
    Duks shook his head for all, smiling even more "Nope, none of those things. You can imagine what a hard time I'm having, realising we were wrong all that time."
    Nevsiriel leant back and took a lasting gulp of her drink, clearing exposing her lithe, curvacious form. "So if not elves" she said "who did make that coat of yours?"
    "Well, where I come from just about every man and his rat lizard-" Dusk frowned at the expression Stentor had used, what was a rat lizard? Dusk was a man, should he get a rat lizard? Was it something sacred in Cythera? "-had one. Everyone had a helmet, just like mine, and every had boots like mine."
    Nevsiriel had unconcioulsy taken hold of Dusk's sleeve, fingering the materiel thoughtfully. "Why wear clothes like everyone else? How boring!"
    Dusk laughed, enjoying the feel of her playful hands through his trench coat "No, we were solidiers."
    Nevsiriel lost her smile, her fingers stopped moving "Was it bad?" She hafl whispered, seemingly genuinly worried.
    Dusk shook his head "I don't remeber much. What I do remeber though, it's..." He shuddered, forgetting about the world around him. There was a horrible silence, the chatter and banter of the bar dull in comparison. Nevsiriel took hold of Dusk's hand, squeezing it gently, he didn't respond. Dusks eyes were shut, a tiny tear hung stubbornly in the corner of his eye. He brushed it away, smiling and blinking hard.
    "I never... Are you ok?"
    Dusk nodded, smiling harder, forgetting his past, looking into the elfs eyes. She was so beaitful, so...
    Nevsirel smiled self concioulsy, and looked around the bar. Dusk realised he had been staring, and suddenly found his drink very interesting, looking down.

    (ooc) Ok, had to end it there. But short, took me a while to get it right though :). (bic)

    Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

  • At the mention of Rat-lizards Alfie, Razmalak's erstwhile companion, crawled out from one of the dark recesses of Raz's robes and perched himself on his master's recumbant head. He wrinkeled his smooth, green nose a couple of times- sniffing at the smoky air of the tavern.
    He caught the eye of Dusk, as his eyes shifted around the tavern. He stared a while, for a moument forgetting why his eyes were so distracted.
    So. That must be a ratlizard. Makes sence I suppose.
    Alfie, unused to the attention, scuttled back under Razmalak's robes, his glowing red eyes peeping out from the dark folds.

    OOC: I'd post more, but there's only so much a character can do whilst unconcious...



    "Your superior intellect is no match for our primative weaponry!"
    (url="http://"")Don't ask, just click.(/url)

  • Quote

    Originally posted by dusk:
    "Martel" he said "this is my friend, Eroldur, and my this is my father, Therru. My companion Larc is off researching this, 'bomb'."

    Actually, Therru (Eroldur's father) is reasearching the bomb, Larc is hopelessly drunk. It's ok, I guess that was a bit unclear.

    "Look, a distraction!" -Fletcher Dostie

  • (ooc) Whoops! Sorry Mr. Somebody, I shoud have paid more attention :frown:. Ok, tonight will be the last recruiting time, then we and our small band of merry adventureers can head off. I'll post later on, I have to go now though. (bic).

    Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

  • Larc suddenly startled up from his drunken sleep.

    "It was Yahmeh-Aka's fault! He killed... he banishes...his fault! All his fault..." Martel, who was lightly dozing next to his brother snapped up. He grabbed Larc sharply and pulled him to the corner. Obviously trying to keep Larc quiet.

    "Shhhhhh... don't say a word about him! "

    "Yahmeh-Aka?" Martel looked very worried now, and pulled out his sword. With a quick bash, his brother was very unconcious. Martel gagged him and dragged him into the back of the tavern where the rooms were. In Larc's room, there was sound of furniture being moved. Martel exited with a key in his hand and locked the door. He casually sat at a table, as if it never happened. However, multiple elves were taking side glances at Martel, and many looked angry and paranoid. Eroldur leaned over to Martel.

    "They'll be here! He has so many contacts that he'll find you and Larc again. Just because he hated your parents doesn't mean you have to aggravate him too!"

    " He didn't just hate my parents, he killed them! You of all Cytherian people should know! Just because your father is a human does not mean you are safe! He killed your mother after she escaped here! Never forget that you are half and half. You look like a human but inside you are an elf! The senses, and you can change to a cougar. Your mother took Larc and I in when our parents were killed and you and Larc were toddlers! Eroldur, you know what is happening. It has happened before. Dusk was attacked by strange men. Yes, strange men are all over, but Eroldur, you were attacked by a ruffian just like one of those men. There has to be a connection!"

    "All right, you win, Martel. We'll watch our backs on this quest, he is watching."


    "Or listening..." A patron in the bar murmured. He left and in his hut took off his disguise. A drow. He sat down to write.

    "Dear Yameh-Aka,
    I have found the fugitives Martel and Larc, sons of Helen and Mabya. I will watch their every move. Please send me more assasins to work with, and they will be dead in three days of the assasin's arrival.

    Your Most Humble Servant,

    (edit)For more info, see my coming chronicles when they are finished.(/edit)
    "Look, a distraction!" -Fletcher Dostie

    (This message has been edited by Mr. Somebody (edited 11-23-2002).)

  • (ooc) Ok, back at last. Sorry, I think we should head this story off now. (bic)

    Dusk opened his mouth, shocked. Martel gave Dusk a cold stare, stating without a word "It's none of your business."
    But Dusk thought otherwise; he got up.
    "Martel! Why did you just do that? What was your brother yelling?"
    Martel stared a cold reply, saying nothing.
    Dusk was furious "Martel, you are... Dealing, indeed toying, with Cythera's fate. Maybe you don't understand the destruction of this device."
    "What Larc was saying is none of your business Dusk. Leave it be, you don't want to pry into this."
    "You have no right to keep information from me-"
    "And you have no reason to need it." Snapped Martel.
    Dusk sighed, shaking his head. Martel was about to snap again when Dusk lifted his head, saddened "I'm sorry Martel, I shouldn't question you, I'm sorry, I really am."
    Martel was taken aback "That's ok, Dusk. I just don't want to dig up old memories, you should understand that."
    Dusk nodded, and went back over to his table. Sitting besides Nevsirel and Rogan, drawing breath shakily. He took the rest of his drink into his mouth, savouring the mind dulling effect of the light ale taken at once.
    "What was all the about Dusk?"
    Dusk shook his head, muttering. "I'm going to hit the sack tonight."
    Nevsiriel grinned, playfully waving goodbye.
    Rogan got up and handed Dusk his coat, he touched Dusk's shoulder "Dusk? Be careful, keep our wits about you. By now word of the bomb has no doubt spread. A device of such power could never stay hidden for long."
    Dusk held Rogans eyes, "We head out tommorow. Good night, friend."

    (ooc) Ok, short post. More tommorow. (bic)

    Yesterday we bent our necks to emperors and kings. Today, we kneel only to truth. -Kahil Gibran

  • Razmalak turned in his sleep, the iron rivets of the park bench lodgeing themselves further into his back. In his arms was clutched tight some kind of orange cone made of an unknown and oulandish substance. The watchmans helmet slid from his head and rolled into a nearby bush.
    None of these things were in anyway unusual, even in this world. It is thought that they are created out of some kind of dark matter brought into being during the distillation process. They usually disolve a couple of hours after dawn.
    Razmalak turned again, his sleep disturbed by some unwelcome dream...
    Hot wind scorched his back and a deafening roar filled his ears but still he ran on as his world shook itself apart.
    The ground at his feet crack and buckled, throwing him off balance. Down he fell, but he did not hit the ground because the ground was no longer below him. Beneath him now was only blackness and the tumbled into it, a silent scream on from his lips as he fell, over and over as the darkness enveloped him...
    ... The scene changed- flowing from freezing blackness to blinding light in a second. He hung suspended in a prism of light. Figures seemed to materialise around him, formed out of nothing more substantial than light and shadow, but when he turned to them they vanished before he could see their faces. "Wh...who are you? What do you want?" he stammered, but the shades said nothing. As he examined his prison he realised that he was trapped within a crystal- from above his head the bright light shone, reflecting of the edges in rainbow arcs.
    "What is it you want from me?" he cried. His only answer was a faint laughter that seemed to resonate from his crystal prison itself.
    At this point he fell of the bench and woke up blinking in the brand new day, the laughter still ringing in his ears, but the rest of the dream immediatly forgotten.
    Finding his feet on the second attempt he got up leaned against a nearby tree, blinking in the bright morning sunlight. Sometimes he wondered why he always ended up waking up on a bench, even when his last memory of the night before consisted of going to bed with a good book.
    When his eyes managed to regain focus his peered to the tavern opposite the park. A motley band of men and women were waiting outside the door- most of them carrying swords of some kind, but the occasional bow was slung over the occasional shoulder.

    Razmalak sighed.



    "Your superior intellect is no match for our primative weaponry!"
    (url="http://"")Don't ask, just click.(/url)

  • Pippin Lyra and Anya walked outside the tavern, and they jumped onto there horses,then Pippin's Lyra's and Anya's braclets started to grow warm, then they all gave a loud roar, and a magical force grabed them and pulled them all into the gate....
    They reaperd at the base of a giant hill all bursed and scrached, they picked themselfs up and started to walk up the hill, then Anya sudenly stoped like there wall a wall infront of her,
    then a loud nose came like a crack of thunder,then Anya gave a cri of pain and flew back with stronge force, I said to stop walking and set up camp.

    Yummy! My moldy, crunchy, mouth-watering... drools frruuuiitt cakkeee...

Log in to reply