The gods have left...the world in flames.

Started by Lord Malcolm, February 11, 2012, 02:40:35 AM

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Lord Malcolm

The cold stone door slid aside. The scout snuck out into the ruined temple on his own, returning in a few minutes, opening the door the rest of the way, revealing a small room. The temple had at one time been a magnificent structure, and the ruin itself was still an impressive sight. Twelve massive seals were carved into the wall of the temple’s main room, the seals of the twelve gods. Massive columns encircled the whole building. The sky glowed red through the fallen ceiling, the fires of the city of Whitemount burning behind them causing the sky to glow with lurid light even over the mountain-top.

Making the way through ruined temple was treacherous, especially for a group of refugees as large as this one: nearly twenty people. But in a matter of a few minutes the scout had lead the refugees out of the temple and into more open air. They were at the foothills of Mount Orias. Thundering behind them, the Siege of Whitemount was well underway, the Goldori pelting the city with giant boulders, plague rats, the heads of captured soldiers. Dragons flew overheard, setting ablaze forest glens and thatch houses. The smell of flame and smoke and seared flesh dominated the landscape.

Cain gazed down on the refugees from his perch in a tree on one of the higher foothills. Cain’s whole body was shrouded in shadow as he peered down on the refugees. He caught sight of what he was looking for, and effortlessly began drifting down towards the crowd of people moving away from the temple. And Cain was gaining fast. In a matter of minutes he was on the refugees, two blades drawn. Cain ducked, leapt, and dodged his way through the refugees, blades not touching any of them, but one. Before anyone knew he was on them, a man was dead and Cain stood on a ledge above where the refugees were standing. The shrouded figure was not smiling, at least, not that any observer could tell. And he wasn't leaving either. Instead, he spoke, his voice seemingly the amalgam of a thousand voices.

"You have sinned against the Twelve, King Rolan of Whitemount, and have been judged."
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Styx26

Shane watched, silent as he considered the cloaked assassin cautiously. He had seen the wraith like man, even ducked when the blade past perilously closed to his shoulder, yet nothing had hit him. The ranger had his bow in his hands, arrows ready to place and aim, but figuring on the speed of this being, he'd best hold his ground... for the moment.

He walked over to where the dead man lay, staring at the face that was hidden in a ragged cloak and dirty rags. Typical. A cowardly monarch would leave his subjects to die while he ran off. Then the ranger lifted his head, eyes cast toward the shadowed man. He turned his head, looking toward a frightened man in a monk's robe.

"Head east, following this path until you reach a rock that resembles a hawk. From there, go north, that will take you to Riven. Go."

As the refugees grouped together, walking away, Shane stayed, still standing near the dead body.

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Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
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selfexiled

His meditation was interrupted by the scraping of stone... one of the doors in the old temple was moving. Marcus held his place for a time waiting to see if the trespassers would find there way to him and thier death. It was not to be so, but then a voice distant and yet near holding a thousand tones but none speaking to a king who had fallen from grace and had been judged accordingly. Who was this being of a thousand tongues who claimed to be the hand of the gods. That list was short when the gods still spoke to the people, now Marcus could count the ones he knew of on one hand in this age. Stepping out of the alcove he had called home he crossed to the great doors that guarded the interior of the temple and pushed them out wide. He immediately found the body of the dead king but the man standing beside him did not hold the same... aura, of someone who had just killed a man. Neither was his gaze on the kill in front of him but above him towards the temple. Turning Marcus found the shadowed man atop one of the broken parapets, indeed this was the killer. *whisper*"God's grant me sight." A barely noticable flash over Marcus's eyes was all that alerted anyone to his gift. Now he could see the man properly but even his god given sight hazed a little which meant this man's gifts were also of the gods. It was enough to tell him that he was not a deamon and there was no need to immediately kill him but, he did kill a man on holy ground god ordained or not that needed an explanation. "You there, shadowed one. Why do you spill blood on holy ground?!"
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Lord Malcolm

The shaded figure regarded the interloper. Though one could not see his face, it was plainly felt somehow that he smiled. He did not sheathe his weapons, but moved out of his crouched position. His head moved noticeably, scanning the ground it looked like. "Yes. The seal is right there. The body right here. Seems that I did slay this man on 'hallowed ground.' But as I see it, the gods determined the time and place of this wretch's demise." A thousand deep, satisfied laughs roared from him. "Believe me when I say that from where I'm standing, your concern for the 'holy ground' this ruin sits on is truly and honestly very amusing." The head turned. Toward the sky. "Besides, I'm not the one you're going to have to worry about desecrating this land. The Goldori are looking for this coward, and they will come this way. From the sound of it, they're working their way through the tunnels now. So, either you stand your ground against a whole legion who is about to trample your temple underfoot, or you follow me. Believe me, you'll get to use that sword either way. And the gods will thank you."

"Interesting talent you have there, by the way," he said, launching himself down the road and off toward the east.
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Styx26

Shane was thankful he had sent the other refugees on, if they'd stayed... wasting no more thought on it, he turned to watch the stranger. He looked entirely obscured in shadows, even his cloak seemed to be made of it. The laughter caused the archer to wince, and when they ran off, Shane knew to follow, swiftly loping along the beaten path as easily as a deer.

He drew a dagger; not for any real threat, but in case he was set upon. Running with a bow with a notched arrow was exceedingly awkward; a thrown blade could do more damage if done properly.
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Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
Do NOT encourage the Padawan!

Lord Malcolm

The shade continued down the path a while before pausing. He lifted his head towards the air, as though sniffing. What he could possibly have been sniffing for was anyone's guess: all that most could smell anymore even with magically heightened senses was fire. The shade turned to his follower and spoke in an amused whisper, "Perhaps something a touch more subtle?" His shaded, indefinite form gave way to the shape of a man.

Looking on,  the man standing before the ranger was of about average height, with bright, piercing blue eyes that seemed to gaze straight through whatever they focused on. Dark hair fell in shaggy tufts into his eyes, and the man's slight build suggested one capable of the acrobatics he'd already done that day. "That's a bit less conspicuous," he said with a smile as the sound of hoof beats approached from the west.

"Who passes here?" one of the men on horseback asked.

"Cain," he-who-had-been-the-shade replied. "These are my guides to Riven."
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Styx26

Shane sheathed his dagger, letting the hood over his face cover his eyes as he stood still, glancing around from beneath the cloth to see if someone were sneaking up behind him and the man who called himself 'Cain'. 'A shape-shifter and an assassin... I'll need to watch this one,' the ranger thought.
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Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
Do NOT encourage the Padawan!

selfexiled

"Legions do not scare me. Legions fall before me like the wheat to a farmers sickle." Turning towards the tunnels entrance,"However, since there are innocents nearby and I would see them safe I'll ignore your prattle and give the legion a challenge." Stepping to the entrance and grabbing the thresholds on either side Marcus heaved, the protests of the stone were audible before they gave way to his strength collapsing the entrance and blocking the way of the army following.

Turning and seeing neither of the men had waited he shrugged and moved after them. A good twenty plus yards away he saw the shadowed figure shift to the form of a man then spoke to a horseman near. Marcus was only half listening to this shapeshifter, something about guides he said. Figures those who live in teh shadows were always best at lieing.
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Lord Malcolm

“This does not concern you, Ranger. You may go,” the Rider said with disdain. Cain turned his face to Shane, eyeing him. The face he’d chosen as his disguise was oddly expressive, and the look it wore was a smug, knowing sort of look. “As for you two,” the Rider’s continued indictment called Cain’s gaze away. The Rider’s own glance moved first to Cain, then to Marcus, emphasizing his intended audience. “You two are bound by the laws of the Goldori Empire to come with me.” The Rider motioned with his gauntleted hand and a half-dozen men drew swords. “Come with us peaceably and we will not harm you.”

Cain laughed, his chosen form’s voice a surprisingly deep baritone. “Firstly, you do want the Ranger. You just don’t know it yet.” He gave Shane a knowing wink. Turning back to the Rider, he began again. “Do you really think I won’t resist?” Cain gazed down the road, a thought occurring to him. “What happened to the refugees you passed on your way here?” His tone had suddenly lost its playful quality, taking on an edge.

“That is not your concern, Assassin!” the Rider snapped. Cain’s eyes narrowed, darkened.

“Why? Why did you kill them, Puppet? Was it just a matter of course, or did you think twice before you massacred the refugees?” Cain’s voice was filled with emotion, with anger and indignation. The Rider drew his own blade, sneering at the Assassin.

“It’s not my place to question Imperial Orders. I was told, specifically, that you would be here, now, and to bring you in. Dead or alive.” Dodging the question. But his voice never faltered. Cain’s hand snapped to his blades. “What do you care, Assassin?”

“I thought you’d say that,” Cain quipped, voice cold. That expressive face was smiling, a vicious, predatory smile. He began, then, to laugh, the deep baritone falling apart, collapsing and disintegrating into numerous, unsettling voices. His lean features and black robe remained a moment, then in a flash of black fire exploded into Shadow again. In a time when magic was untrusted at best, the effect was unsettling. Even the horses fidgeted and backed away, whinnying anxiously. “Would you like to know?” the Shade asked, voice seemingly edged in madness as he slowly drew his blades. “Why your Empire sent you to die?” The Shade leapt, tackling the Rider from his horse, landing precariously among several horses, including one spooked and riderless. “I didn’t think so.” And the blades began to fly.
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Styx26

When the man on horseback 'dismissed' Shane, the ranger stood his ground, watching the exchange of words between this assassin, Cain, and the Rider. The wink given by the assassin put the mercenary more on edge than the Rider did. 'What does this trickster know?'

And when Cain mentioned the refugees, Shane followed his gaze, noting there were still footprints of the travelers he had sent down this path... Anger welled up, as gloved hands reached for hidden daggers to throw, closing around the handles. But the edge in Cain's voice lent a note of caution to the subconscious of the Ranger, who let go of the blades.

At the instantaneous reappearance of the shadowed form, the Ranger took a step back, more for steadying himself than to run away. With a shocked expression, he watched the shadow pounce... and years of skill took over as within the blink of an eye he freed his bow, notched an arrow and fired at a guard, catching the man in the throat with the projectile. There was a gargling sound, then the man slid off his horse to the ground, dead. A second arrow followed, and soon a third, into the now moving but still shocked troops.
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Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
Do NOT encourage the Padawan!

selfexiled

Listening to the 'shadow' speak with the horseman was not high on Marcus's list of cares but the conversation hit on the refugees and then a round about admittance to thier killing. No matter what these two chose to do these men would die for the spilling of innocent blood. It's not that he so much cared for the people but that he himself had spilled much innocent blood in his lifetime, now in an attempt of pennance he seeks to defend the innocent. Releasing the hidden catch in his gauntlet he readies for the next move.

'Cain' shifts to his shadowed form and attacks followed by the archer, instantly almost three of the men are dead the others still shaking off the shock of the assualt made them stationary targets. With a step and a heave of his arm, the blade held within and the chain that bound it erupted from his gauntlet rocketing towards the nearest man imbedding itself into his chest and lifting him off the ground. Yanking it out and whipping around he released the other gauntlet's blade rocketing towards another man...
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Lord Malcolm

#11
The Rider scrambled up to his feet, readying his weapon. The Shade landed in a crouch, drawing his own swords. The Shade rose, not bothering with a combat stance; he deflected two blows from other attackers before they were killed by Marcus and Shane. Single-mindedly, he engaged the Captain. One attack. Two attacks. The Captain was on the offensive.

"I am an assassin." Three, four. Cain's many voices all shook with anger. "I kill people with power. People who compromise." Five. "People who deserve it. I am a spy. I kill people as an act of war." Six. As he deflected the seventh attack he disarmed the Captain, sending his longsword a few feet to his left. In the same swift move, he spun, driving both blades at the Captain's stomach. The Captain flinched, but the blade had stopped short. The Captain's eyes widened as Cain stood their, motionless, turned away from him. Seeing an opportunity, the Captain backed away, body turning ever so slightly toward his fallen blade. A single word issued from the Shade's many voices: "Ghalin." For a second onlookers seemed to hear the simple command "Feel," overlaid above the foreign command in their heads in their native tongues.

The Captain doubled over in pain as though struck by the blades that had missed him moments before. Cain pulled the blades forward effortlessly, the Captain writhing as though the blade had been pulled from his gullet. No mark, nor blood marred his armor. Sheathing the blades Cain turned to the Captain. "What you did," he continued, "was neither. It was not an act of war. It did not change the course of history. Did they even know what it was you were asking them?" He paused. "I thought not." His eyes narrowed. "The Twelve have judged your wanton act of bloodshed. You have slain innocents needlessly and have been judged."

The Captain had, through this been crawling to his sword. "Ghalin. Frishkul ghalin. Shaerul uth ulfrishgar nen ghalin. Ka ne." In your head you hear, seemingly over top of the word of the Shade "Feel. Feel every blow. Feel every cut with which you struck them down. You have been judged." And as surely as the Shade's menacing figure stood there, the Captain writhed, jerking this way and that as though tossed by the weight of repeated attacks. Still no damage. The sight of his bloodless corpse moments later was eerie.

Cain for his part seemed suddenly less impressive. The display had seemingly left him weakened. "Il cruma gash argin," he muttered under his breath, the words, "Curse this frail shell," sound faintly in your brain. His shadowy figure seemed more definite, less random. Only a momentary lapse in his balance occurred. Better than before. Either the shell was becoming more resilient, or it was breaking down completely. No matter.

"I shall return," he said in a single voice, and disappeared over a rise, just off the road to meditate.
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selfexiled

The flow of battle was vastly in thier favor and then it all just seemed to stop, a voice was heard inside everyone's head. The enemy for what they were worth all began convulsing and collasped to the ground jerking about and screaming in death throws with not a single mark upon them. The shadow was the source, his power was great to affect so many at once but it clearly drained him to near collapse. This was the issue of mortal flesh containing and expending to much power to quickly, more specificly celestial power.

The power of Gods was different than the power man finds in the world. That power was tailored for the body of man and no matter how much the body could survive. The power of the Gods, Marcus knew all to well, was a step above all else and could not be released in full fury without great damage to self.
Marcus learned that the hard way many years ago battling an old nemesis, he won the battle but was in such a state that he had to sleep twice as long to recover from the damage to his body.

"Cain, is it? You may want to rein in your temper more next time. I know they deserved this but to die in the process serves little the purpose the Gods have for you."
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Styx26

#13
Shane lowered his bow, empty now, having released his latest arrow into the crowd. He'd heard the echoes, seeing the men dying in droves of blood... wincing, knowing if he were such a target, he'd be dead along with these... these murders of people escaping slaughter only to be driven to it.

The archer glanced behind his shoulder at this diminished quiver. He'd need to make more arrows to replace the ones used. Seven... it wasn't worth picking them from the mangled bodies, as shattered as they were.

Shane lifted his head to look at the sky, still blue, but with gray clouds forming, a chill wind rushing past. The archer shivered.

"I hate to say it, but our purposes deemed by the Gods may be the least of our problems... According to the Deacon of Whitemount, and the Gridori's head shaman, the Gods... aren't in our realm anymore."
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Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
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selfexiled

"Hmp I care not for the words of a 'religious' leader nor that of a hoodoo priest of a foreign land. Gods don't 'leave' they simply stop listening and getting involved. Like a parent that's warned thier child not to do something but they continue on the path anyways and the parent sits back ands lets them learn the hard way." Looking around as the waether seems to dim as though a storm were approaching. "Even though it pains the parent to see the child hurt they know the limit and will return to pull the child out once they've had enough and cry out in earnest. The people of this world have rejected or misrepresented the gods for so long they have decided to step back I think, to let us remember what it means to be without them. Waiting for us to burn out of our rebellious urges and come back home like the prodical son."

After a moment of silence, "Some of us do still cling to the gods because we have seen the darkness that is their absense, but we are not enough."
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#15
The archer listened to the strong warrior give his opinion, even waiting past the moment of silence as the man finished with what was to be the final word. However, Shane was not entirely finished explaining himself.

"You misunderstand my meaning, warrior. I was in the church as the Deacon prayed for the congregation to be saved. He ended up embracing the fireball that flew through the air to slay him; there was no trace of the aura the Deacon usually has while praying."

Shane's eyes were dark with remembering the carnage and slaughter in the battle. "And the shaman was who I faced before finding the refugees. He tried to cast a spell to bind me to the ground; the vines broke as easy as paper, and my arrows found his eyes and neck easy enough. If he'd been protected, I'd be stone dead, more so than King Rolan."

The archer spat on the ground, more in contempt of the dead king rather than any real reason. "I don't know how or why, but somehow I can feel this, don't ask me to explain how, but they were taken, as easily as a thief steals a purse..."
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Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
Do NOT encourage the Padawan!

Lord Malcolm

#16
Cain seemed to have ignored the warrior's words, but smirked momentarily at what he viewed as an incredibly ironic statement from the Knight. Again, one could not see the smirk, but the air around him simply felt like it held a smirk. He walked stiffly off to the side of the road, sitting cross-legged. He sat, bolt-upright in seated meditation. His whole body was stiff, but the longer he sat the less steady his outline became. His body went out of focus, as it had been before. And as he meditated he muttered to himself, softly, almost imperceptibly. As he muttered, his voice changed subtly, first a deeper version of the many-voiced effect that already surrounded him, the second his own...voices. The words he spoke were not in the common tongue, but in the language he had used on the Captain.

You should be more careful, Brother. Your time here was not cheaply won.

I am aware, Brother. The limits of my power here are new to me.

We must not squander the time we have, even if it means not intervening when we would prefer.

Do not lecture me, Brother. Remember that it was I who found a way here, and I am the one on whom our fate lies. Trust my judgment. Am I not one of us?

You are, but this very situation proves that we were too confident. Too sure of our own infallibility. Just...be careful. You are the thread that binds us.

Always, Brother. And I am aware. May you join me soon.

May judgment come. May justice prevail.

May judgment come. May justice prevail.

Cain opened his eyes, his voices silencing. His form solidified and the face he had taken on before emerged, his voice finding unity once again. He rose, walking passed the dead captain, kicking him with his black boot.

"The gods are here, and are not here. Come. We make for Riven."

((Sorry about that. It seems that I posted two versions of the same post before. Fixing as soon as this post goes up. There was only one target, the Captain. Sorry for the confusion.))
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selfexiled

"I do not deny that the god's power is gone and that those who were once in high favor are now feeble, but a god can still be present but yet withhold thier power from mortals. As to your feeling that they have been taken away I have no answer, perhaps they want you to feel that."

Turning towards Cain, "And what oh great leader is in Riven?"
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Styx26

Shane didn't know how to exactly reply to the brawler's reply; it seemed the man had an answer to everything. It would be amusing to see a moment when and if he was struck speechless, but as it was... the ranger wisely kept silent.

"The gods are here, and are not here. Come. We make for Riven."

Rather than argue the point or ask why, Shane nodded to fall in step with the assassin. Riven had been his initial destination, and looked to be a much better place than the ruins of the kingdom most recently left behind to burn.



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Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
Do NOT encourage the Padawan!

Lord Malcolm

"Nothing," he replied simply. "It is a place to start. And something compels me to lead us there. Will of the gods and all that." He simply started walking, letting the Ranger fall in behind him and the paladin do as he would. "We should be able to make it halfway there by nightfall."

Cain's prediction proved to be an underestimation of their speed, and by the time dark had fallen once more on the burning world, the party was almost two thirds of the way to Riven.
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selfexiled

"Fair enough." said Marcus as he shrugged his shoulders and fell in behind the other two.
By night fall they were certainly farther along than halfway which was good but, "So are we to continue this casual stroll through the woods or are we gonna make haste to this town so we can dig up some answers?"
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#21
Shane stepped along easily, cautious eyes watching the path as they walked. Rangers were trained to see not only the signs of the forest, but also to see signs that were not part of the forest. The most obvious ones were the pieces of dirty cloth, dark puddles between trees in patches on the path, and the irregular piles of dirt, covered to appear as regular underbrush and 'natural'.

'A rather unfortunate choice of words, paladin,' Shane thought, a hand going to his belted dagger, dropping the blade into his open palm.

A bird called out, the cry echoing in the forest. The ranger's eyes flickered. "There's someone else taking the forest air..." He whispered, more to himself than anyone else.
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Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
Do NOT encourage the Padawan!

Lord Malcolm

Cain perked up when he heard the ranger say something. He hadn't quite caught what the Shane had said, but he knew it was something that set him on edge. The shade looked around trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that drew the ranger's attention. He drew his weapon, cursing his dull senses.

He spoke not a word, but seemed to melt into the dark of the night as he moved toward the shaded roadside, swords unsheathing soundlessly.
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Erato

#23
Ella dug her hands deeper in the earth searching for more of the vital roots she needed. She hated to leave the refugees for long, a new birth was imminent given the size of the woman's belly. She did not know what called her away from the group so soon after dinner but immediately after supper had finished she felt herself being called into the forest away from where the refugees had camped.

Being pulled in directions she did not understand was so commonplace to Ella that she did not think for a moment to disobey. While the refugees talked amongst themselves she snuck off to the tall grass to dig for the mushrooms and roots she would need in the coming weeks. Time past so quickly in the field that it seemed like mere minutes before darkness fell. Brushing a dirty hand across her forehead to wipe away the hair that had fallen in her face, she yawned slightly and for the first time since leaving the camp looked up to the night sky.

It was a beautiful sight to her. Despite the death and destruction that so frequently seemed to plague the earth she could never quite get over the beauty of seeing the sky overhead. It was such a change from life in the order. Smiling to herself she bent down again, putting the last of the roots into her shoulder bag.

It was then that she felt it. Something, or someone, was close. She couldn't hear it, or see it, but something told her she was not as alone as she had thought. Biting her lip, Ella tried to gauge the distance from the road. Perhaps if she was quiet and quick enough she could make for the road and get back to the refugee camp unseen. Given her short 5'0" statue she did have an advantage of being carefully camouflaged in the tall grass, while she kept low to the ground anyway; a feet that would be more difficult while running.

Grabbing her staff tightly in her right hand, she felt the electric current start to surge in her left, readying herself for battle if need be.
In the game of chess the Queen protects the King.

Sasquatch421

Storm had been shadowing the line of refugee's from the trees ever since he came across them. Curious he followed along just in case something interesting happened.

He had stayed in the forest as they camped out not even bothering to start a fire since his cloak would keep him warm. His eyes adjusted in the low light conditions allowed him to well enough anyways. Storm nibbles on some dried fish as he scanned the camp before he shrugs and using his natural agility climbs the nearest tree and settles down keeping his cloak wrapped around him.

It doesn't take long before his sensitive ears picks up noise and Storm sits up just in time to see the refugee's hurrying off. His eyes narrow he springs from tree to tree in order to find out what is going on. The beast inside growls and Storm mimics it as he tastes the spilt blood on the air.

selfexiled

Marcus didn't live this long being oblivious. He saw both the ranger and the shade draw thier weapons. Minor ticks in the arms gave it away but that was a trait you develop over centuries. His true sight gift still active he could also see the auras of those in hiding.
Not one to be subtle now days he walked up to the nearest one and stomped on him. Normally this would only cause a lot of pain but given the weight of his armor and the force behind his foot it crushed his chest, there was a gasping cry but no more. This led to all the others jumping out from thier hiding places to attack the travellers.
Originality is fast becoming obsolete, to make a trully unique world all your own is the mark of a great writer, artist, thinker.

Uhm ONs/Offs link
https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=134455.msg5990414#msg5990414

Absences:
https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=180093.0

Styx26

Shane jumped back from a dagger thrust toward his stomach, matching it with a thrust of his own blade into the bandit's throat, pulling it away as the man fell, gargling out his breath.

The others were occupied with the other attackers as the ranger glanced up, seeing a flickering light through the trees. It appeared almost like lightning, flashing ominously. Shane took a step back, visibly confused. '... is that magic-'

His thoughts were interrupted as a bandit charged forward, screaming a wordless cry- the ranger charged and tackled, knocking the man to the ground with heavy force. Shane quickly stood up, drawing his dirk to take on any other combatants.
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Patience is a virtue... it's a good thing I'm trying to be more virtuous! ^^
Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
Do NOT encourage the Padawan!

selfexiled

Marcus laughed at all the men jumping up from under bushes and out of trees. One leapt towards and he promptly caught him with one hand by the front of his shirt and threw him back into the tree he had just come from, breaking his back.
Marcus drew his sword, the sight of it alone made several hesitate, with a strong leap that seamed almost unnatural for the amount of armor he was wearing, Marcus landed in a small group of the attackers and swung his sword. It did indeed cleave one man in two which slowed it enough for another to move enough to only lose his arm, the momentum lost the sword imbedded itself in the near tree about three quarters the way through. The other two seeing an opportunity charged him, he turned and back-handed one away... he didn't get up. To the last, he meerly looked at him and he dropped to the ground writhing and struggling as though he were pinned.
Any who noticed would've seen a flash in Marcus's eyes, it was his only form of magic really, altering the weight of the man's vest to such a weight that he couldn't move it.  He considered just leaving him there, but turning to pull his sword from the tree he had another idea.
Wrenching the sword free he stepped around the tree and pushed it towards the man on the ground... there was a scream just before the crash of the tree then nothing.
Originality is fast becoming obsolete, to make a trully unique world all your own is the mark of a great writer, artist, thinker.

Uhm ONs/Offs link
https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=134455.msg5990414#msg5990414

Absences:
https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=180093.0

Styx26

Shane grimaced as he let go of what appeared to be the final man, the now lifeless body falling to the brown path of the forest floor. Cleaning off his dirk before sheathing it, the ranger stared around at the trees, trying to find evidence of others who had seen the sudden battle.

"If you mean us no harm, come out so we can see you," Shane said, his tone one of someone having a calm conversation. "Otherwise... you've seen what we are capable of." The calm of his voice was evident, but like a cloth of silk draped over a sharpened dagger- lethal, in any case.
Ons and Offs
RP Ideas, Characters
A/A's
Patience is a virtue... it's a good thing I'm trying to be more virtuous! ^^
Quote from: Wolfling72 on December 06, 2013, 06:23:12 PM
Do NOT encourage the Padawan!