• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
Characters
Here
Other
Here
S C H A N Z E E , A R T
Interacting with: . D O V E . D O V E
Mentions:

The ease of which she had agreed to his suggestion - especially the latter one which was meant to be a joke and nothing else and even going as far as actually giving a suggestion - had floored Art. "What? Would you agree to jumping off a cliff too?" He asked absentmindedly as he jumped off of the table and rounded behind her chair. "You're lucky I actually used to cut hair before." Art grumbled. His mother had taught them the basics since she used to cut his and Aiden's hair when they were younger until the two of them just did each other's hair. It was only lately that he started growing his out just because it took too much time to crop it to a desired length and he had too much to do.

He grabbed a dagger and ran his hand through her hair. Azy didn't specify at what length he should cut it, and he didn't really want to ask. She'll just have to make do with what he does. He twirled the dagger for a moment as he went through his choices. If he had scissors, this would probably end up much cleaner but they didn't have such luxuries right now. Art grabbed a good length of her hair and ran the dagger against it. The hair didn't give any resistance against the sharpened blade and he extracted the long length of golden hair. He propped his elbows on her shoulders, showing both dagger and hair. "As they said, new hair, new you." He murmured. He pulled his arms back and laid down the hair onto the table.

"Now for the harder part." Art faced her, scratching his cheek. "I'd say I won't hurt you but I feel like the sentiment would be lost." He said with a small shrug and wiped his dagger with a cloth and waved it in front of her - tracing where she had motioned earlier. If he wasn't careful, he'd run the risk of blinding her. Ash had left and come back with a small bag, one even Azy would recognize as Art's emergency medical supplies. The leopard rubbed against Azy and it was a clear indication of Art's own nervousness. "You're crazy for agreeing to this." The delver said before pressing the dagger onto Azy's skin. It broke skin, blood dripping down and he dragged the dagger down, so meticulously, so carefully.

Art's face was neutral, almost seemingly unaffected by the fact that he was mutilating his friend's face or how his friend was in pain.

As soon as it was over, he placed the dagger down, muttering something about hanging on and he grabbed a few supplies from his bag and treated the wound. He pressed something against her eye and wrapped a bandage around. He took a step back, a pensive look on his face. "We have to let that heal for now, so bear with it for a while." He looked at the dagger that had a few lines of red from her blood and he wiped it down once again. He sat back down on the table, letting the silence hang for Azy to gather her thoughts again.
 
Lycidas Sterling.png
Lycidas stepped into the blacksmith's shop, but not before taking a look up at the sky. Damn. It was getting late, and Lycidas knew that he would need to soon check in with one of his pals to see what the Fourth Eye had for him that day. He hoped that there would be something interesting; he didn't feel like sitting around all day long doing nothing.

Just as he expected, the inside of the blacksmith's house was lively and interesting. Not because of the tools hanging off of the wall, but because of the occupants: a rather pretty and badass looking lady, her aggressive companion, and a hulking shark beastfolk. There was certainly a large level of chaos emanating from the group of people gathered, mostly in part due to the masked lady's companion threatening the beastfolk.

"Aren't y'all a spicy group," Lycidas chuckled, indicating that he was completely unbothered by the confrontation between the two masked folks. His opinion didn't really matter though, this was the blacksmith's house, whose name was Sig or something based on what the shark, Myr, said. Huh. Sig. That rhymed with fig. Figs worked really well with chocolate. "I wouldn't mind a lil scuffle, but I'd think we'd be imposing on dear Fig here."

The two masked folks had arrived before him in line, so Lycidas allowed them to speak of their commision first. Well, that's what he would've said to anybody who questioned his silence. It was more of him trying to figure out how to ask for a torture device. Thankfully, the badass lady's request was abnormal enough that asking for a torture device would probably be fine.

"Ooh, now that sounds deadly!" Lycidas commented after hearing the masked lady's commission, his pale emerald eyes sparkling as his imagination ran wild, "People don't die immediately even after their innards are removed, so they'll be seeing their insides as their life drains out of them. It's so cruel, I love it!"

Lycidas composed himself and did his best to recall why he was there in the first place.

"I'm looking for a fun little torture device," Lycidas requested, "Something like one of those cool thumb crushers. But if you can't do that, I suppose a nice pair of scissors with sharp teeth for tearing off limbs and fingers would be cool too. What you say?"

EmeraldSplash EmeraldSplash Colorless Spectrum Colorless Spectrum Athanas Athanas
 
"This is real bad, yeah," Myril sighed, though she did not seem awfully concerned, "However, he drank the quickvine potion. Thus we have 24 hours to find him before the tar on him worsens. Ah, but we have help!"

Her last words were directed at Khilith and En who stood at the doorway seemingly dumbfounded at the events. Myril's eyes glinted at the strangers through her mask, "Drunkman, I don't suppose you have coin for the cure I gave you this morning? My dear fae, whatever you require I shall provide for free if you would both be so kind to help Urshta and I catch the runaway!"

obscured_light obscured_light powerline powerline DarKnight36 DarKnight36 Melon Bomb Melon Bomb
 
"I'm very poor, yeah!" Khilith said, chugging the miracle cure and wiping the tears that poured from his eyes as a result. "So I guess I do owe you a runaway."

Khilith followed the plague-ridden guard outside, and noted the man making haste through the streets. "Hey! Stupid! Get back here!" Khilith began sprinting after Darin, who shrieked in terror and began to run faster.

"It's your arms or your life!" Khilith yelled after Darin. "Hold still dammit!"
 
Last edited:
The wagon stopped.

An uncomfortable silence hung over the three men as they, almost in unison, slowly turned their heads toward the cargo. Just now, there was a sound. The grating, unmistakable creak of twisting metal as something hidden beneath the cover was ripped apart: Something that wasn't designed to break.

They backed away, carefully, holding their breaths as they exchanged nervous glances. The cargo remained still, save for the edges of the tarp rustling lightly in the wind. The apparent leader of the crew quietly raised his fist and began forming hand signals that only an associate of the Fourth Eye could recognize. The mission was compromised, there was nothing more they could do. And if intuition is to be believed, they'd been deliberately sabotaged.

"What's going on over there?"

A passing patrol of guardsmen jogged into the picture, hands resting naturally on their hilts. "There a problem, gentlemen?"

Instead of answering, the trio crouched down and then simultaneously broke off into three different directions. The first vaulted directly over the heads of the stupefied guards in a feat of superhuman acrobatics, vanishing into the crowds. The second squeezed between two buildings to the south and expertly kicked off the wall, catching himself on a second floor sill and clambering through the open window. And the third leapt atop a waist-high wall, running partway down its length before jumping onto a low sloping rooftop. He gave a knowing salute to the men below and hopped down the opposite side, out of sight.

Now, all of a sudden finding themselves alone with the mysterious payload, the guardsmen stared at the wagon in stunned anticipation. Still, it was quiet. And then...

CRAAASH!

A blur of scales rocketed into the air, its form a dark silhouette against the harsh sunlit sky behind it. Unleashing its wings to its full span, a great shadow overwhelmed the men below, now trembling in place as they fumbled for their swords. For what did their eyes behold, but the terrifying visage of an elder drake poised to strike with all the legendary ferocity of its draconic ancestry. Chained firmly to the tip of its tail, its own cage dangled freely below its legs, weighing down the beast just enough that its altitude reached its peak where it hovered. Flapping its two wings with enough wind force to knock the guards to the ground, its neck craned up to the heavens. Clouds of scalding steam escaped from its jaws as they slowly pried open, freed now of its humiliating muzzle. Then, with a tremendous flourish, the majestic beast let out a devastating cry.

"SkreeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Its sound immediately shattered glass and ruptured eardrums, sending the unprepared guards collapsing to the floor with their palms pressed to bleeding ears. The drake's screech echoed like the crack of thunder, carrying as far the outer edges of the middle ring. With one more beat of its wings, it dived down and snapped its tail like a living whip -- the attached cage scraped violently against the stone road, grinding out a shower of sparks before slamming into two of the men. Their bodies splintered and exploded into mangled limbs as the metal bars rent their flesh, the makeshift bludgeon crashing into a brick wall. A messy red streak painted the floor from where they had stood all the way to where their disfigured corpses now rested, embedded into the storefront of a bakery.

Swerving through the lane, the drake's claws latched into and ripped through the buildings as it scaled their faces like a climbing surface, breaking apart chunks of concrete as it pushed forward toward the square. Eyes gleaming with fury, it turned its head and blasted a wave molten flame into the lineup of buildings that stood across the street, scorching them like a burning painter's brush. Among them, the upper stories of Sigrid's workshop burst into flame.

Wandering guardsmen and militia patrols neared the scene with a mixture of caution and curiosity, unsheathing their weapons as they made their way past the civilian crowds. Closer to the front, residual Brotherhood patrols caught wind of the beast and pooled in its vicinity, momentarily awestruck at its sight.

"FORMATION! NOW!"

. D O V E . D O V E AI10100 AI10100 Athanas Athanas Colorless Spectrum Colorless Spectrum Coyote Hart Coyote Hart @Iamthemanfish LazyDaze LazyDaze @Nica powerline powerline @ThatGoldenCrisp @Nano EmeraldSplash EmeraldSplash @Nulix PiePillager PiePillager obscured_light obscured_light DarKnight36 DarKnight36 egglover egglover The Prophet The Prophet
 
Last edited:
Khilith skidded to a stop and gawked at the drake that was viciously mauling the street ahead. Darin disappeared into the chaos, but Khilith could care less at the moment.

"Oh shit," Khilith said, fumbling for his sword in blind panic, only to realize that he'd left it at the inn the night before. Cursing to himself, Khilith turned and sprinted away from the rage-filled beast. "Of course it's a dragon, it's always a dragon," Khilith yelled, trying not to trip on the uneven roadway.
 
The severed locks were like a small pool of platinum before her. Azy leaned slightly forward when Art placed his elbows on her shoulders. It was a casual and gentle action yet the close proximity made her feel uncomfortable. Regardless, the woman didn't show any signs of uneasiness and simply played with her unevenly cropped locks.

"New hair, new me." She echoed, her eyes following Art's movement as he sanitized the dagger. Everything about this scenario was peculiar; she never thought there'd come a day when a friend would end up mutilating her, much less with her permission. Then again, she never thought there'd come a day when her own family would hunt her to oblivion and beyond. Life was full of surprises it seemed, and they weren't necessarily unwelcome either.

So, when Art labeled her crazy, she couldn't really argue otherwise. "I am, I am." Then, Art pressed the knife.

The first thing she felt was the coldness of the steel, sending chills down her spine for the briefest of moments until it eventually got replaced by throbbing heat. The pain hit her like an incessant blast of fire, the scorching agony spreading from her face to everywhere in her body. Her hands flew to her seat's handle, gripping it tightly until her knuckles turned paper-white. She tried to hide her cries behind bitten lips and labored breaths, but they eventually spilled like a dragon's roar. Art's pace was agonizingly slow, and the taste of her own blood grew more and more nauseating with each passing second.

By the time they were done, Azy was nothing but a bloody and heaving mess. The pain didn't fade, in fact it only worsened as he withdrew and the cool wind met her open wound. Fortunately for her, Art quickly tended to it and the gut-wrenching sensation was somewhat alleviated.

There was silence afterwards as Azy slowly regained her bearings. It was only after a few minutes when she finally made a sound, a cross between a whimper and a giggle, before it progressed into a chuckle.

"....W-well? What can you say about my new look?"

AI10100 AI10100
 


Sigrid Lindstrom

Truly the week had been nothing but interesting. Four days ago, she finds a woman near her age down by the ditch, close to death and with amnesia. Now she has customers, to have this much in just one day, not only that but they're asking for a strange weapon too. She'd never made anything of the sort before but she is confident in her skills to make it. Not that she agrees with how they're going to use it but it brings food to the table. Money for her siblings in the case they come back.

Ignoring that she was called "fig" by another, she showed all of her customers a pleasant smile and wondered just how for Trine's sake did she caught the eye of these people. It was starting to get annoying but she had to keep it in. Breathe in and out. Just accept the requests, then they'll be out of your hair, when they come back all that is left is giving out the items, and then it's done. She thought to herself. She then faced Sapphire. "Of course! Those can be made but it will take time. As for yours," Her gaze then focused on Lycidas, "How does-"

"SkreeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

The window of her shop shattered into pieces. Her heart sank. Whatever that made that sound, it gave her shivers. It wasn't that far. She heard the screams of civilians, just like her. Seconds later she felt the heat of the fire and the smell of burning wood.

"Everything is fine... Everything is fine..." She whispered like a mantra to calm her banging heart. "EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE! ACHIE!" She screamed and ran inside, looking for her white cat.

Azy... Where was she? And Art!

She looked around every nook and cranny that she passed through on the first floor but there were no signs of the two. She gasped for breath, her chest wwasstarting to tighten as her mind flits through various images of the two being swallowed by the flame just like... Just like...

"Achie, where are you!?" She called out, who elicited a meow near the backdoor. She immediately runs to the sound and finds Achie's head inside Azy's leather quiver. Sigrid quickly picks up her cat, then the quiver. Immediately she searched for Azy's bow and found it by the table before she started running back to her workshop and found Myr. "Myr, hold these for me and wait for me outside." She said trying to shove the items and Achie over to him as she plans to go upstairs and try to find if Azy and Art were upstairs because where else would they be if not inside her house?

mention: . D O V E . D O V E AI10100 AI10100 || interaction: Athanas Athanas EmeraldSplash EmeraldSplash Coyote Hart Coyote Hart


 
The mace spoke clearly to him, as clear as day. And it's words rang true, as they did most of the time.

Evolution has given creatures many useful tools to deal with the situations that will undoubtedly present themselves in the eternal struggle for survival. One of these tools is called an instinct of self preservation. Basically, in a very unfavorable situation, the creature automatically knows that it is best to turn tail and run. A very useful instinct, it was. Unfortunately, there is a catch-sentient creatures have advanced so far, often, they completely neglect these tools. They think themselves invincible, unbeatable. Then they die, and their face as they're bleeding out contorts in far and surprise-How was this possible? They were sure they could win!

So did the little man before him, too. Staring down a creature easily more than two heads taller, armed with an enchanted mace and clearly experienced in the way of violence, with small bits of flesh still stuck to his sharp teeth-and he thought that the best and wisest course of action here was to antagonize that creature, even add in a corny line about how "they all bleed the same".

Now, Myr had enough food for a couple of days, but that did not mean much. Violence was not always means to an end-in point of fact, violence was often the primary goal, with the food and the plunder being secondary boons. And here, standing right before him, was a prime target. His smile could not possibly get any wider. A mouthy one. An agile one, clearly, but that didn't matter for shit-not in this confined space. He took a step, twirling his mace in his hands, but before he fully committed to bringing it down on the insolent fool, his companion, a girl stepped in, apologizing for his behavior. Hm. Common sense? While wearing a mask? How come? Strange... However, the effect of her words was notable. The seconds of pause that she gave him were enough for Sigrid to show up, and that finally convinced Myrlond to let it slide-Sigrid despises bloodstains in her workshop. With a final point at the stupid man, he lowered his weapon, stepping back and enthusiastically waving at Sigrid. He would've like to go in to hug her properly, but alas, he had to wait before the smithy had been cleared.

"It's all been fairly same-y, to be frank with ye, Sig. Just making runs in the wasteland and trying to cull the Tar-infested numbers somewhat. Not exactly working, and I've had kind shit luck with the loot, but...I'll bounce back. I always do."

His eyes moved away from her as she took the cuthroat's order. Instead they moved over to a young man also standing there. He'd seen enough madmen to be able to recognize the unhinged nature of this individual. But this was mighty weird, considering his stature and demeanor. Another skulker, he supposed. When he demanded a torture device, Myrlond huffed loudly-okay, so maybe he wasn't completely hopeless! He was just about ready to remark on it when a horrid shriek shattered his train of thought. This was fairly normal. However, the others seemed to have heard it too. This was much less normal. Could the shriek be coming from...a real creature?

His question was answered posthaste when the workshop's upper levels were blasted to smithereens by a fiery breath. Yep, it was real alright! Immediately he was on alert, his senses sharpening and his stance changing. He was about to rush outside when he saw Sigrid rush upstairs-what was she doing?! Damn fool was gonna get herself torched! Thankfully, she returned shortly, unharmed, brandishing her cat and a quality wooden bow. He quickly stuffed the items in his backpack, slung the bow overhead and plopped the cat on his shoulders, his thick hide preventing it's claws from damaging him. When Sigrid stepped back to try and go upstairs again, however, he was determined. A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, dragging her back. "Siggy! Don't even think about going back! That house here is mostly wood. It'll be Cinders not before the minute's out. Whoever was up there has either bailed through a window or is doing his best human torch Impression. Let's go!"
Not waiting for her answer, he dragged her outside, something which was no walk in the park, even taking into consideration his tremendous bulk. Sigrid was no pushover when it came to strength, and some unseen compulsion made her all the more determined. Still, Very few creatures alive could match Myrlond's strength, and before long, they were outside, the Drake in full view. He quickly shoved her behind some debris which could function as cover, tossing her the cat as well.

"Well fuck me bloody! That's a real drake! We can't possibly outrun it, even if we wanted to~So here" Myrlond reached into his pack and handed her his repeating crossbow alongside a fistful of bolts. "You made the bloody thing, pretty sure you know how to use it. I'm gonna try to punch some holes in it's scales, aight? Shoot the weakspots as they appear."

With a few waves of his hand, one of the runes on his body began glowing, and in a few moments, a bizarre amalgamation of a spirit had appeared right beside him. He telepathically instructed it to attack the drake from the opposite side. He doubted it would damage it severely, but it would be a pretty severe nuisance and might buy them time. Immediately, he dashed from cover, tossing the mace with all his might onto the dragon. It would be hard to miss a target this large, and hopefully the impact would create the dents he so desperately sought. Meanwhile, the spirit started performing a series of quick slashes near the opposite end of the dragon's face. Grinning widely at the rising adrenaline, Myrlond recalled his mace and made ready to defend from a counterattack, or another toss if the drake did not seem that interested in him.


EmeraldSplash EmeraldSplash Coyote Hart Coyote Hart Colorless Spectrum Colorless Spectrum
 
Smoke scorched the skies and polluted the block with acrid air, feeding off of the decomposing masonry. The city troops did not make a move just yet, gathering further away to hold an emergency meeting where they stood in the square, waiting for further reinforcements. At the vanguard, Brotherhood soldiers made attempts to hold the line and assisted fleeing civilians, pedaling backwards slowly as the creature advanced.

"That's an Odian drake... are we under attack!?" a militiaman said.

"Where's our Guardian? Someone go get the Guardian!" cried another.

As the rabble traded concerns among one another, Paladin Cyrwin drew his blade and faced upward at the beast. It was difficult to steal a proper look from how much it was moving around, but judging purely by its size, it appeared to be an elder drake -- even for its specimen, it was extremely large. He'd never encountered one in person, but he paid enough attention during the lectures to know what it was capable of.

Its scales acted as powerful protective plates, and the hide underneath was as tough as any leather armor. Then, there was its quintessential fire breath to take into account. It was instant death to any mortal man, and if estimates were to be believed, the beast could spit as far as fifty meters away. Luckily for them, the organic ignition fuel it consumed to do this can take weeks to regenerate after use -- the one wreaking havoc before them almost certainly had some charge left, but it couldn't breathe fire forever.

The paladin rapped his pommel against his shield. "Fall back! We did not come here to die. When our forces are sufficient, I will give the signal to strike. Until then, on me!" Looks of relief passed between the anxious soldiers as they followed their field leader, who pulled his men away from the line -- leaving the crew at Sigrid's smoldering smithy to fend for themselves.

***

Myrlond's heavy mace whirled through the air, on path to strike right on target. Reason would dictate that something of this size could not move that quickly, but its honed musculature, as they would soon find, was not for show. It traversed the terrain with incredible swiftness, weaving up and down the building faces with controlled precision; the weapon completely whiffed, hitting the air where it had been a few moments ago before returning to the beastman's hand unfulfilled.

The drake took notice of the ward orbiting its skull. In one blindingly fast motion, it snapped its jaws, causing the spirit to instantly disintegrate. Had the beast been cursed with tar, the divine energy would've shredded its maw apart, but unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) the monster was as healthy as they came, if a little malnourished. Its tail swayed and thumped while it traveled, causing the chained cage to tumble and collide with its environment like a flail. Although the drake did not notice the mace, it vaguely seemed to understand that it was being attacked by some kind of tiny sharkman on the ground. Its body crept down so that its upper body was level with the street, and swiped horizontally at the nuisance with its claw.

Athanas Athanas

***

Hurrying down the road, Tanner held on to her strap tight and skidded to a stop when she finally spotted the source of the sound. It was just as she had feared. A massive drake, loose inside of the city, transforming everything around it into a glorious inferno. Her gaze turned to the fleeing soldiers, and... huh? They were running away! Hey, get back here and do your job! Cursing to herself, she dipped her hand into her bag and produced a sloshing metal canister, which she then screwed under the barrel of her steam rifle.

Now, the intelligent thing to do would've been to get the hell out of dodge. But, as it happened, this young woman fancied herself something of a hero -- or at least, a concerned citizen invested the safety of her community. Calming herself with a deep breath, she moved in closer. She could've easily taken potshots at the beast from the relative safety of the street corner, but she was going to have to be more precise if she actually wanted to hurt it. A savvy combatant -- or at least someone familiar with drakes, like Tanner was -- recognized its vulnerable points as being its throat and underbelly, as well as its inner joints. And, for the braver souls, its two eyes and the interior of its mouth. The wings as well, though they weren't quite as vital.

"Yoohoo! Lizard breath, look this way!"

Tanner tucked the stock into her shoulder and aimed down the iron sights, crouching to better steady her gun. She waited to see if it would turn around, though for now it seemed occupied with attacking some other poor sap standing outside of one of the burning buildings. Rest in peace, man.

The engineer squeezed the trigger with a resounding CRACK, chancing at a blow to its stomach. The round missed its mark by several inches, harmlessly embedding itself into a scale. She clicked her tongue -- she couldn't see if she actually hit its vitals or not, but she didn't feel confident in that shot. Too bad her rifle wasn't warded, it might've been able to penetrate the armor. Hot water vapor hissed out of the exhaust port as Tanner opened up the chamber, loading in another bullet.
 
S C H A N Z E E , A R T
Interacting with: . D O V E . D O V E
Mentions:

Art flipped the dagger in his hands as the silence continued. Ash seemed particularly anxious and Art idly wondered if that's what he felt right now. His guardian responded to his feelings with accuracy. She padded around Azy as she came back deliriously. His lips formed a thin smile as he watched the ex-noble giggle then chuckle and he wondered if the pain had been so unbearable that she had lost her mind. It was only a momentary fear as Azy spoke coherently - enough that she was able to form a complete sentence with a matching joke. For a moment, he entertained the thought that he was starting to rub off on her - tackling situations with humor, dry or otherwise.

He scrunched up his nose. "You look like an idiot who charged into a fight barehanded when your opponent had a knife." He then grinned. "But you still won." Art rummaged through his knapsack and took out a waterskin. It had more than enough water in it as he handed it to her. "Unless someone really stares at you, they probably can't recognize you." He was inclined to argue that she still looked far too... higher up for someone who spends their time in the Middle Ring. Despite how many times she had made her trips to their ring, the fact that she still grew up pampered was something that they couldn't get rid of. But that's nothing time can't break.

"Still, wear the cloak for good measure. I'll ask mom if I can have another one." He hummed. His mother was one of the best tailors that he knew, and that was without his biased opinion. It may not have been weaved with magic but he always felt safe in the clothes she made for him... okay, maybe that part was a lot more biased.

A loud screech pierced through the air - Ash had stood in attention, already in a defensive stance and Art almost dug the dagger into the table. "What the-" He gave her a pat on the shoulder, silently telling her to stay put as he rushed up to the second floor of the shack and opened the roof access. Screams were coming from the middle ring as something was in there. He couldn't see past the walls but the sounds were telling enough.

He rushed down to Azy, a complicated look on his face. On one hand, he could run out and help but that meant leaving behind a delirious and defenseless Azy behind. On the other hand, he could just trust everyone else in the middle ring to be able to handle whatever the monster was. "The Middle Ring is under attack."
 
Lycidas Sterling.png
Damn. Sig wasn't able to finish her thought before in a surprising burst, the top of Sig's house burst into flames. Rather hurriedly, Lycidas ran outside of the blacksmith's house to look at what had caused so much damage. A... dragon? Lycidas hadn't been close to one before. Even when he travelled in the wilderness, he was careful to stay away from monstrous threats like this. Well then. Sig could ask her question later.

"Well, this is certainly interesting," Lycidas commented, shading his eyes against the sun as he looked up at the drake, "I didn't expect something like this to happen today."

Part of Lycidas knew that this was something that his skillset was unsuited to take on. He doubted that any of his knives could do as much as hurt the drake. Yet another part of Lycidas wanted to stick around and see how things would go. Lycidas chuckled and gave in to the reckless part of him as he pulled on his Tarukaja gloves.

"Hey, don't be stupid," Lycidas called out to Sig, "If the beautiful lady who was hopping out of the bathroom window is still in there, she's dead, kay? You'll just get yourself killed if you go back."

Lycidas turned his attention back on the drake. Myr's attempted and failed attack illustrated just how powerful this drake was. The Brotherhood, either useless enough to sacrifice the lives of the civilians or smart enough to understand retreat, wasn't going to be a help. It sounded like they were going to go get the Guardian, which meant that the people gathered only had to entertain the drake before they arrived.

With the swipe of a hand, a sigil appeared in front of Lycidas's face, and it glowed when he shouted a command: "Persona!"

Magic flowed around him, and Lycidas's Persona manifested at his side, the shadowy figure connected to Lycidas's tailbone by a dark thread. While Lycidas could get hurt, Lycidas's Persona couldn't. As a last resort, if the drake decided to shoot a burst of flame at them, Lycidas could even hide behind his Persona and have it take the brunt of the hit. But right now, he was on the offensive.

As the drake swiped at Myr, Lycidas's Persona rushed in, its longsword posed to strike at the attacking claw. Lycidas grinned devilishly. The wise decision would've been to defend Myr. Even if his speed was enough to hit the drake, the damage wouldn't be incapacitating nor useful. But Lycidas frankly didn't give a fuck what happened to Myr. What he wanted to know is if he were to get a hit on the drake, how much damage could he do?

Athanas Athanas EmeraldSplash EmeraldSplash Colorless Spectrum Colorless Spectrum Melon Bomb Melon Bomb
 
"A crazy and idiotic rat." Those were the collective words Art had used to describe her ever since their reunion. "I guess that's the new me. I can live with that." She flashed him a grateful smile as she accepted the offered waterskin. With a smooth twist, the corked detached itself from the receptacle and Azy brought its tips to her lips for a heavy drink. Stretching her jaw bothered her fresh wound, but the feeling of the lukewarm water streaming down her throat felt relieving. "Thank you," she uttered once she was done, wiping her lips sophisticatedly afterwards.

It was then when a reverberating sound permeated the shack from the East, causing Azy to flung her head towards its direction. She raised a curious brow, wondering just what kind of creature could emit such noise. Especially inside a sanctuary.

It was Art who broke the silence after he returned from the upper floor, confirming her dreadful hypothesis. She hummed in thought as her fingers idly played with the hem of her blood-soaked cloak. "Aren't you glad we made it out of there before it happened?" She stood up from her seat and walked past Art, stopping in front of an antique dresser with a few books and an unlit lamp on top. Her fingers trailed over the literary covers, knowing full-well whom it belonged to.

"I wonder if the same could be said for Sigrid. You know her better than I do, but I have this feeling she might linger and search for us in the Middle Ring." Azy owed her life to Sigrid, she was genuinely grateful to the blacksmith regardless of the former's manipulative actions. Her deft hands opened the drawer as she spoke and she found a few spare clothing inside. Just like the book, she knew whom it belonged to.

She glanced over her shoulder to Art, "I'm sure Aiden won't mind." With that, she pulled a simple brown tunic and began to undo the laces of her own. The shack was small and dim, and Azy wanted to get out of her dirty garments as soon as possible.

Her mind worked as she changed. Knowing Art, he was probably gauging whether he should return to the Middle Ring and help out or stay with her. She was inclined to think he'd be leaning to the former option since a large threat would usually require the Guardian's aid. And Art, according to Aiden, considered Snow as his closest friend. If he did go and leave her behind, Azy couldn't promise she'd stay and wait for him to come back. Meaning, she wouldn't have to answer any of his questions.

With a final pull, the belt around her new tunic tightened and she fully faced Art with a smile. "What's your move?"

She might just be in luck.

AI10100 AI10100
 
Khilith tripped his way into a weapons store, which the owner was frantically trying to close, and grabbed a bow and quiver. Slinging both over his shoulders, Khilith paused as his eyes met the store owner.

"Um," Khilith said as the owner gaped at the filthy man. "Gonna take these for a, uh, quick test run." He then sprinted from the store, with the red-faced woman's protests following him. Sprinting for an alleyway, Khilith dug his heels into the ground and kicked off one wall, twisting and kicking off the other to just barely reach the edge of the rooftop above. Hauling himself up, Khilith quickly strung the bow and nocked an arrow.

"You need to go back to sleep, buddy," Khilith grunted, aiming at the dragon and uttering a spell. The arrow instantly began to crackle with magical energy, water and lightning coating the arrowhead as it snapped forward. The magic in the arrow had enough force to stun an elephant. Against the elder drake, however... well.
 
LUCK PANDORA

If there was one thing that was true about anything in this world, it was that anything could be exploited. You would never bat an eye at a food vendor, charging for shelter, and even water. Give it time, and selling a poor plebs life back to him would become as common as the sun rising in the morning. So that's why Luck was out and about, in the outer district. He was on his way to fulfill a recent contract. Of course, he had other clients and jobs to tend. Finding a lost cat, selling stones to rioters; however, this little conundrum could pay well...especially when the contractee was so...hopelessly hopeful. They were the best source of revenue. Step 1, charge them upfront for an impossible task. Simply taking the job and satiating their desperation was enough to get them to cough up the goods. Step 2, find a lead...any kind of lead. At the first sign of hope you could probably get them to cough up even more coin before they realized they were being screwed. Anything resembling progress could be played up as a true path to completing the contract. From their you string em along, and with any luck it leads to some sort of danger (at which point you double the price, but by this time they are too far in and can't decline your offer)...Step 3 skip town...well..

"...Wait no this was the list for the last guy," Luck said editing his to do list by adding the word maybe to step 3. After all, he did fully intend to find this missing person. Luck's business thrived mostly through rumor, word of mouth, and legend as he was based in a run down shack in the outer circle. Despite his intent to find this person, he was sure that it would end just like the other missing person cases he has taken on. Sold off to some sick bastard, mauled by beasts, a figment of their imagination, murdered...he has seen it all. No matter the end...it was always awkward handing a sobbing client the bill. Sometimes, Luck would even hand them a handkerchief first.

"Somewhere, on the edges of the outer circle...exists a man who will complete any job for any price. Some claim to have-,"

"Eliza...you were supposed to narrate that at the beginning," Luck said without removing the talking, prophetic sword from the straps on his back.

"Oh..................Somewhere, on the edges of the-,"

"No, the moment's gone."

Luck arrived at the meeting place to discuss things with his VIP client, Art, the one who filed the missing persons case. It had been a month and he had no leads. He wasn't worried about Art finding someone else to take the job because only a crazy person would put serious effort into this. Only a crazy person would hold out hope that the person missing hadn't already sunk into the abyss of the forgotten. Before he entered he heard a horrendous sound...from within the sanctuary. Luck gazed off into the distance in the general direction from where it came. While the situation proved interesting, it would be fiscally irresponsible to get involved. The key in building a bounty was to allow growth. If it were worth anything it would stay alive for a few weeks, even months, and then you deal with it. He returned to the matters at hand.

"Knock, Knock," Luck said as he entered the building without knocking of course. He stared dumbfoundedly as he saw a knife, hair, blood, scars, a bad haircut, his client holding the knife, a bad hair cut, and decided that no money was worth the bullshit that today was bringing. "Either way, I'll leave here an accomplice, or a murderer. Goodbye Art." Luck said while pointing his gun at Art...he could only pray that the poor lad's fetish was worth it.

"Somewhere on the edges of the outer circle exists a man-,"

"SHUT IT ELIZA!"

. D O V E . D O V E AI10100 AI10100
 
S C H A N Z E E , A R T
Interacting with: . D O V E . D O V E LazyDaze LazyDaze
Mentions:

"She will. Hopefully, Myr put her into a safe place." He mused. The bounty hunter was someone who would charge into the next challenge but he trusted the beastman enough to get the only blacksmith in Trine that would spare him the time of the day to make something without upfront payment. "And I hope she stops and thinks. I'd never stay in a place like that." He grumbled, putting down the dagger on the table for Azy to have. He didn't quite have a need for it since he was still armed and she was... well, she didn't seem like she had anything on her.

He diverted his gaze to the door as Azy changed her clothing, undisturbed. He was practically itching to go and help - but he didn't even know what was in the Middle Ring. The militia and the Enneads were stationed there, they could certainly handle something like that. And if not, they would call upon Snow - and the thought of it made Art a little bit upset. Art was aware that the guardian wasn't feeling its best, not recently at least. Each of his visits, he just grew more and more worried. So if she was pitted against something, then wouldn't that edge her closer to death. It would be bad for everyone involved.

"You're horrible." He hissed. If he left, who knows when he'll see Azy again. It was obvious that she wouldn't just stay in the shack and wait for him. The fact that she didn't search for him when she did escape was already telling. And from how she avoided the subject of Aiden, she would be thankful to just get rid of him now. "If you must know I-"

That was when the door opened and lo and behold, the little bounty hunter he had hired stepped in, assessed the situation, and turned his gun to him. "And accomplice... to what? Two people hanging out in a shack?" He questioned, undeterred by the gun pointed straight at him. Though, he couldn't blame for any of the conclusions jumping in Luck's mind considering all of the evidence present right now didn't paint a pretty picture. "That's Azy, a friend of mine. Currently in the middle of her mid-life crisis so she decided to change her appearance a bit you know. Haircut and all." Admittedly, he still wanted to fix what he had done to Azy if he had proper scissors to do it with.

"And someone who can help us with our case. Unless you found something else?"
 
It was naught but a whiff adrift in the wind, but a whiff was all it took! Fire, ghastly fire! Hellish fire! The smell of burning wood and stone! A draconid, of course! It must be! What else could 'cause a village rife with the raucous cries of it's pathetic people's to erupt in even more more of a terrible din?! And there, 'o'er cobblestone streets, it lied! The beast with a hide of leather and a temperament most foul! Such a thing was not a natural denizen of such cramped quarters!

Nay, this beast was far from home and it was angry! It's cries rang out in a righteous fury! It had every right to lash out in anger, but those who fought it now were not it's captors?! Who were these hairless apes who dared combat the beast with a belly of fire?! The brave?! The foolhardy?! Perhaps both! But this was what the King of the Condors was searching for! The grit among the gutless! For after all , who deemed the land their own to conquer above all beasts?! It was creatures such as these! And now the King bore witness to a struggle where the strong of heart stakes their lives, all to defend their pithy home!

But alas, they deserve commendation, not condemnation for a pithy territory is territory nonetheless! The King would bare witness, soaring over the battle taking place below! It was time, let the streets one run red, flooded in the fury of battle! Be it blood of beast to blood of man, let the glory go to the victor!
 
dbrknhg-86c0194f-3d85-4818-a235-c8412307ff62.jpg

Complications?

"Fuck, they started transporting it earlier than I expected" Sapphire said placing her hand on her forehead, slapping it. The assassins didn't care that they stood just centimeters below a fire that took the whole upper floor.

"Well everyone went out so we can roam freely. How about we take something for ourselves?" Birdie asked.

"Nah, let's go enjoy the chaos. She's going to craft you a sword after all."

The outside was beautiful for both, eyes and ears. The screams of agony and fear and the burning buildings. That's what this is all about so that these kings, queens and all of the fake royalty could see how they ruined this sanctuary.

" Look at all of this pure violence Birdie!"

"It warms my heart everytime I hear the chaos."

"I guess that the fourth eye moving the drake sooner was not a negative. Who would've thought."

They saw Myr and Lycidas fighting but they didn't care about them. They only cared about Sig.

She was the one who would craft them Sapphire's desires in exchange for riches. And so Sapphire turned her head towards the smith and placed her hands on each side of the mouth so that her voice would get louder. "Eyyy! Smithy! You are completely useless here! Just come with us and we'll take you to safety! Once this is over we'll even escort you back to the house!"

"Oh shit?! What is that energy coming from that boy over there?"

"Calm the fuck down Birdie. Don't act like you've never seen it before."

"I just-"

"Check this out.." she said nudging him. "Eyy! Kid! I don't have to have four eyes to see that the attack is just not gonna work!" a burst of laughter came out.

"What?" Birdie didn't understand.

"Nevermind."

Colorless Spectrum Colorless Spectrum Coyote Hart Coyote Hart Athanas Athanas
 
The situation made a drastic flip when a stranger unceremoniously entered the room. Whoever he was, he had a massive sword with him and a gun. The latter of which he immediately pointed at Art. As the two men talked, Azy took looked around the shack and mulled the stranger's train of thought. It was easy to understand why he was reacting this way; a dim shack, a bloody floor, and a knife- everything in the shack screamed torture.

So, when Art delivered his excuse, Azy couldn't stop herself from bursting into a fit of giggles. Oh, here she thought Lady Luck was finally in her favor. "Mhm, I heard mutilation was the latest trend in town." She casually rolled her wrist while drawing closer to whom she assumed to be Art's hired muscle. She focused her gaze on the red-head and smiled, "Please, calm down and lower your weapon. You and your...," she peeked past him to look for the Eliza whom he was yelling at earlier but ultimately found nobody, "friend...?" Strange. Who was he talking to? "You misunderstood the situation."

The man might be delirious; gods know how many of them loiter the streets of Trine thanks to the many shenanigans in the sanctuary. That, or he might have an invisible friend. Either way she wasn't that much surprised.

"My name's Azy. I'm pleased to meet you, sir...?"

AI10100 AI10100 LazyDaze LazyDaze
 


Sigrid Lindstrom

Right... They were both right, Azy and Art wouldn't stupid enough to not escape her burning house. They weren't but... Just where were they? She watched as Myr and another fought the Drake as she held Azy's bow tight while her house burned behind her.

She fumbled with the bow in her hands, remembering how Myr had told her to use it as she made it but "I don't even know how to shoot a damn arrow." She whimpered to herself. She could never aim right even if her life depended on it.

She whipped her head when Sapphire called out to her. Telling her that she should come with them but they were crazy, strangers to her. Besides, even if they escort her back there isn't a place that she'd come home to anymore. "I'm sorry, but I can't." She shouts back, picking up Achie and running to the other side.

Turning her head back to the Drake, she saw the it about to strike and screamed for Myr to watch out but Lycidas was there. A conjuration, his power. "Myr!" She called out to her friend again, her eyes begging that they leave whilst she held the bow and Achie with each of her hands.

mention: none|| interaction: Athanas Athanas EmeraldSplash EmeraldSplash Coyote Hart Coyote Hart


 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top