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Post by Novalyyn on Apr 29, 2009 3:42:36 GMT -5
"Before time as we comprehend it began, there was the Goddess Deisha, and she was alone. It is unknown for how long she remained as such, suspended in the eternal darkness, but it eventually became unbearable and she wept. Her tears drifted from her and crystallized, and became stars to light up her eternal night. And so she was no longer alone in the darkness, but had the stars to share her life with. Deisha would speak to the stars often, but stars speak little, and so are difficult to speak to for long. So one day, as the stars were listening to her explain that she wished they would speak more, they suggested that she make a world, and fill the world with other things which she could speak with. The stars shed bits of their own forms to help her, and thus she was able to make the world. And she cut her hand to bleed upon the world, and the blood became many different creatures. The creatures were only shells though, with no life of their own, and she the Goddess grabbed many of the stars and threw them to the world, to become the life of the creatures she had created. So many stars had to be used to fill all the creatures that the sky grew dark around her, and it was dark upon the world; and so she took more and put them together, and made the twin suns and the many moons, and set them to dancing for the good of the world. The suns and the moons were too hot though, and the creatures of the world cried out to her, and she wept for them. As she did, water spilled over the moons and poured upon the planet, filling all the low places to make the seas and the lakes. The moons were nearly extinguished, and would be little bother anymore; and when the suns seemed too much to bear, the creatures could go into the water to cool themselves. The Goddess Deisha began visiting the world often, and she would talk with the many creatures. Those who walked on two legs and decided to call themselves "Man" were her favorite, highly intelligent and quick to learn. She gave to them the gift of magic, and taught them how to use it well. In time though, Deisha began to fear she might have erred, for she noticed Man was often more aggressive than she would have liked. She tried to correct her mistake before things got to bad by taking magic away from the males of the species, who seemed more prone to violence than the females. Her actions served only to make things worse, as the nations of Man blamed each other for the loss of magic. After the warring had continued for some time with little sign of actually stopping, Deisha tried giving a little magic back to the men, hoping they would accept it and stop fighting one another. Instead it seemed they had forgotten why they had begun fighting in the first place, and used the magic against one another. Only when one nation had conquered another would the fighting ease, and even then it was only temporary. Eventually, in a final attempt to end the fighting, she returned to the world and went to a place where there was to be a battle. She waited until the armies came and spoke to the leaders and explained who she was and why she was there. None believed her, and only prepared to do battle. Deisha desperately tried again to stop them and convince them, but she was only laughed at and ignored. As the opposing armies got set to fight, two arrows struck Deisha, one from either side. The Goddess stood and stared dumbstruck for a moment at the wounds, and the armies fell silent, none taking credit for the arrows. Receiving such rejection from the very creatures she had created and loved so dearly, Deisha ascended back to the heavens and wept for a third time. This time she wept in rage, and the tears she cried were fire which fell to the world and destroyed much of what had come to be. She continued to weep for a long time, until the world was nearly gone, and from her exhaustion she fell into a deep sleep. The Goddess Deisha has slept on for ages, and in that time the world has recovered, though it no longer has her protection. A wicked darkness has creeped into the world, enshrouding the light of the very stars which give life to Man. It was this darkness that had push them to hostility before, but now that the Goddess sleeps, it has become bolder, granting its own type of magic to those who pledge themselves to it. I fear what our Goddess may find when finally she awakes, if she ever awakes before this terrible darkness takes over. I am sure its goal is to destroy her and all her creation, so that all will be darkness once more, with none to change that. I do not wish for everything to be consumed by darkness, nor for Deisha to awake and again weep tears of fire; yet if she does not awake, the world is surely doomed." - from a part of a journal found near a ruined temple ~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~ That should about sum up what's going on and stuff. Medieval-type setting. Just humans, and maybe some monsters to spice stuff up. I think that' about it...
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Post by Novalyyn on May 8, 2009 14:28:04 GMT -5
"Do you yield?"
The man's eyes followed the blade that pointed at his throat up to the hand holding it, and from there along the arm and to the calm, cool face of the victor. Glaring, the he couldn't deny, or he'd be inviting that d*mned Rhynn to kill him. He didn't understand how anyone could move like that.
"Yeah."
Calvmic promptly withdrew his sword and sheathed it, then put on his usual slight, cheerful smile. "Good. Thank you for the workout," he said as he turned to walk away. "A tip in return: leave that woman, as she clearly doesn't care too deeply for you. I know I couldn't trust her, after all this."
The man had argued before, claiming it was Cavlmic's fault for flirting with his sweetheart. Now he remained silent as he got up and dusted himself off, staring daggers at Calvmic's back. The woman in question had admitted to flirting back, without mentioning from the start that she was taken. But... no, that only proved she would be true... she did love him...
Of course, the thoughts going through the man's head were of no concern to Rhynn. He'd had his fun, and now it was over for the time being. Shortly, this would only be another memory among many that played out similarly. For now, he was more interested in a drink.
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Post by The Mammoth on May 9, 2009 1:56:19 GMT -5
Cervantes was leaning on the side of the bar, calmly chewing his tobacco as his hat shaded his face from the sun. He looked up with slight interest at the duel ensuing. It seemed to be a fight of honor, possibly over a woman, but Cervantes had not paid attention. Once the duel had ended, and the victor had mercifully allowed the defeated man to live, Cervantes let out a slight chuckle that sounded more like a grunt of approval. His thoughts were reinforced as the fight ended when mention of a woman had been made. He spit into the spittoon as the victor began walking toward the bar.
Leaning against the wall beside Cervantes was his massive weapon, known as Vengeance. Vengeance, a towering piece of reinforced tree, or so it seemed, was a weapon that most knew by reputation. Cervantes' reputation never seemed to find and end, as mention of the behemoth man's deeds of revenge and mercenary work always found their way around. Yet, few knew his name, and even fewer recognize him without the weapon. It is almost as if people avoid remembering such details out of fear, or out of respect. Cervantes didn't know, and he didn't care. If they feared him, it meant less trouble in the end.
The loser of the duel was staring daggers, infuriated at the man who had won the fight with his impressive agility. Cervantes spit the tobacco out of his mouth, grasping Vengeance with his right hand and looking out to the man in the dirt.
"She's just a woman." He said, a grin on his face. He didn't mind kicking a man while he was down, but this statement was more out of pity. The man was so handily defeated, his honor was sullied, and he, for all intents and purposes, lost his woman as well.
Swinging Vengeance up to his shoulder, where it rested as Cervantes traveled, his hand on the base grip. It had two grips on it (think a chainsaw) One on top in the front, and one at the base, large enough to give good grip for the massive man. He headed inside, setting the massive weapon along the ground where those not wishing for issue with the bartenders left their weapons. Cervantes sat on the edge of the bar and ordered a drink, his eyes, red like fire, surveying the room for the characters within...
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Post by BeeBR00741 on May 9, 2009 9:15:29 GMT -5
Oceanaiia had became good friends with the bar owner. She in need of money and care, him in need of a waitress who needed so little. Tonight had been busy, Ocean was afraid she would have blisters by the end of her shift. 'Two hours to go' She thought positively.
"Go on Ocean, take a break, wouldn't want my best gal out of breath." Tommy, the bar owner, announced as a fresh herd of customers came through the door. She did just as she was told, she took a break, falling to an abandoned chair in the farthest corner of the room. 'Who would've known carrying brandy to a bunch of men would become so tiring.' She sighed, blowing a ringlet out of her eyes.
Tommy was kind and all, he just seemed to have a secret behind his words. Ocean hadn't realized this until she had began working for him for a couple months. She was waiting for that secret of his to spill out into the open, all this paranoia was exhausting her.
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Post by Novalyyn on May 9, 2009 9:54:11 GMT -5
Calvmic had looked a moment at the giant of a man before he'd vanished into the bar, mildly amused, and too some degree curious as to how a man could end up like that. Not that he wanted to be so large; Calvmic figured it was better to be able to move easily than be able to crush any opponent that one might manage to hit.
He headed in, unstrapping his sword and leaving it by the door before heading up to the counter and ordering a simple mead. He sort of got the feeling that he should be moving on again soon, before he became considered a bother by this town and someone decided to become a nuisance.
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Post by The Mammoth on May 9, 2009 10:20:51 GMT -5
Cervantes surveyed the room, seeing nothing but an array of random thugs and drunks. This bar seemed riddled with those whom spend most of their days at the drink. Looking up at the bartender, he slid his glass back to him. Another whiskey was poured over ice, and Cervantes continued to sip it, not worried about getting drunk. A man of his size would require a lot more alcohol than he would be drinking here to effect him.
As he continued to look around the room, his eyes fell on a woman, obviously a waitress, sitting in the corner. She looked exhausted. Cervantes paused his eyes on her. She looked so out of place here, nt exactly seeming like the type that would hold up in this place. Cervantes knew that likely she was tougher than her appearance gave off, but her youth and look of inexperience led him to think she didn't really understand what she was getting into, working in a place like this...
Cervantes moved on, his eyes locking with another man that had been staring at him. The man quickly averted his eyes, and Cervantes stood up, knowing what was going on.
Walking to the door, he exited again, putting another wad of tobacco in his mouth. Not a few seconds later, the man who he had caught watching exited with three of his friends, fully armed.
"Cervantes Alagade! You are condemned to death by Tymont Gibson." The lead man said, obviously a bounty hunter from the man whom Cervantes had recently been... complicating. Seems turning down jobs from criminals never turned out right. The worst of the worst didn't like their hired men going haywire.
"Son... You dunno who you are messin' with...."
"I'm here to collect!" The lead man said as he and his men pulled swords. Cervantes didn't move, he only spit onto the ground, waiting for the men to make the first move.
When they began to strike, Cervantes grabbed the first man's arm, and with a loud crack, tore it off at the elbow, throwing the man into his henchman. The sword managed to make a slight cut in Cervantes hand, but he merely laughed. He smiled as the man writhed in pain, blood-curdling screams letting loose from his lungs. Blood poured out as his friends lifted him up and fled. Cervantes knew that his change in alignment would step on some toes, but he was prepared to make those wishing to stop him suffer.
Brushing the blood off his arm, he walked back into the bar as if nothing had happened, sitting back down at the bar and picking back up his glass...
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Post by BeeBR00741 on May 9, 2009 12:06:25 GMT -5
Oceanaiia watched as two men analyzed each other, it was rather interesting to be a 'people watcher'. Spending almost a year in this bar had affected the way Ocean looked at other people, she now had a keen sense of emotion shown through the way people acted and carried themselves.
The more muscular of the two had gotten up and went outside. Ocean was confused seeing as how he had ordered another drink. Curious, Ocean set her chair in view of a window, just enough to see shadowed figures outside. Her eyes were not use to the dark so the only way of understanding as to what was going on was hearing a fine 'crack' and someone's screams afterwards. The man from before walked back inside like nothing had happened. Ocean resisted the urge to go and see what was outside, or to ask the man what had happened. Sometimes she felt like she was more nosy than curious.
Sad thing was, this was the most interesting night yet in her work at the bar. Two mysterious men who had not even tried to speak with anyone, cause a commotion, or flirt with the waitresses. Her curiousity built.
It was almost time to get back to work, another sigh escaped Ocean's lips. 'Will I be working here for the rest of my life?' the haunting question popped back in to Ocean's thoughts. "Why couldn't I have just been like my father?" Ocean whispered to herself, remembering the brave and caring man she missed and loved.
"Five more minutes Ocean!" Tommy yelled, his toothy grin falling through, as he looked over at Ocean.
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Post by Novalyyn on May 9, 2009 17:35:17 GMT -5
Calvmic hadn't really noticed the big man leave, not being particularly interested, but the noise that came in after caught his attention. His eyes turned curiously toward the door, a slight smirk crossing his face as he saw the huge man come back in. His mind could work the rest out well enough to know someone was in serious need of a doctor - or perhaps a mortician, it was hard to tell.
Focusing on his own drink, the smile remained, and as the big man sat back down he said simply, "And I thought I had it bad."
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Post by The Mammoth on May 9, 2009 18:43:29 GMT -5
Cervantes nodded, glancing over as he spoke, "Some refuse to learn... When you have done the things I have done, lots of people want your head..." Cervantes said, thinking back on his past.
Something inside him made him feel guilty for the innocent people he had slain. Despite the fact that he still on occasion reduced himself to the acts he had previously taken part in, he seemed to have some regrets.
"So i send 'em cryin' back to mama..." Cervantes grinned...
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Post by BeeBR00741 on May 10, 2009 12:22:34 GMT -5
Ocean got up, her break was over. Another sigh escaped her lips, what she would give just to get out of here. It was time to get a start on the dishes, on her way to the back another set of men stumbled on in, they must have already been to a pub because they were yelling curses at each other, and tripping over nothing.
Ocean rolled her eyes, and stopped to let the men pass by, hoping none would cause any trouble, seeing as how it's almost quitting time, she didn't want to have to stay late because of some rowdy, foolish men.
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Post by Novalyyn on May 10, 2009 14:02:02 GMT -5
Calvmic only nodded slightly and said nothing more to the man until he'd finished his drink. He stood then, offering a respectful nod and saying, "I hope the rest of your day goes better."
He didn't particularly expect such a man to care whether decencies were given or not, but it was hardly a bother. Turning, Rhynn headed out, nimbly stepping aside to avoid men stumbling in, his expression changing for a moment from bemused to distaste. Even so, he offered a charming smile as he passed to the waitress who'd also moved to avoid the men. She was a pretty little thing... had he not already been intending to leave this town fairly soon, the next day perhaps, then he might have made a pass at her.
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Post by The Mammoth on May 11, 2009 1:06:29 GMT -5
Cervantes all of a sudden sat completely still as the two drunken men made their way inside the bar. They were making a scene and seeming very hostile to those who got in their way. The out of place waitress stopped to let the men pass by, and Cervantes waited as he knew what came with drunken "tough guys." Apparently, so did the bartender, who was fingering his sword underneath the bar.
As the men sat down next to Cervantes at the bar, they screamed for more beer. Before long, the men turned to Cervantes, trying to talk to him. When he didn't respond, they got physical. The man closest to him, both of them sitting on his right, started swearing.
"HEY! You big dumb ****! I'm talking to you, you dumbass!" He said, slapping Cervantes on the back with hostility.
Cervantes continued to ignore them. He took a drink of his booze and the man snatched it out of his hand. He smashed it on the ground and stood up, the man standing about as tall as Cervantes was sitting. Cervantes still ignored the man...
Finally, the bartender pulled his sword out from underneath the bar, threatening the men and telling them to leave. The men pulled their own blades from concealed spaces on their backs, as they obviously didn't understand the rules of this bar. The nearest armed workers were too far away to assist the bartender who was now in serious trouble. As the bartender stepped back, both men began to jump over the bar. Cervantes grabbed the first man by the leg and ripped him off his feet, slamming him back first into the ground. The bartender quickly dispatched the other with a swift strike.
The man on the ground rolled up to his feet, slashing at Cervantes. To the man's surprise, Cervantes raised his hands, catching the blade between them. The blade didn't even cut him. The drunk was terrified, as somehow his sword didn't penetrate Cervantes skin, or even scratch him. Cervantes snapped the blade in two and stared the man down, attempting to allow him to live again. Yet, the man was not finished, and he pulled a knife from his boot.
The drunk stabbed Cervantes in the chest. Cervantes reached up and broke the man's neck with one hand. Looking down at the blade, Cervantes pulled it out of his chest. It had only gone into his flesh about a half an inch. He didn't even bleed.
"This was a new shirt..."
Cervantes shook his head as he picked up the lifeless body.
"Where you want this?" He asked the bartender.
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Post by BeeBR00741 on May 12, 2009 20:09:22 GMT -5
Ocean stared wide eyed as the scene rolled out in front of her, she hadn't experienced anything like that since her father had died, and it had brought adrenaline in to her veins. Flashbacks had started rushing back to memory and a smile enlightened her face, not because of the horrible events but because she remembered how proud she felt to be fighting aside her father, and the look of bravery her father displayed.
Brought back to reality by the end of the fight, she caught her breath and wonder what she should do, "Should I clean up the mess, do you need any help with your wounds Sir?" Ocean's rambling had began, she blushed, her cheeks turning a light pink colour.
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Post by Novalyyn on May 12, 2009 20:30:07 GMT -5
Calvmic hadn't quite made it out before things turned sour. Of course, he hadn't gotten himself involved either, but had lingered at the door, hand resting casually on the hilt of his retrieved sword. Once the show was over, he slipped out. That man was certainly not the sort to oppose. Had Rhynn any use for companions, he might have talked to the man a bit more.
Actually, come to think, it'd be useful t o have a companion of some sort for travel. Battles had been flaring up not too far off, and a little extra protection never hurt... If he saw the man again before he left then, perhaps he would mention it and see if the giant had any interest. For now, it would be better to make sure he'd be ready for his journey...
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Post by The Mammoth on May 12, 2009 23:04:58 GMT -5
Cervantes couldn't fight back the smile that broke his face as the girl offered to help him with his wounds. He wiped his chest with his left hand, showing that the bleeding had stopped. "That's alright," He said, his horrific voice rumbling, but obviously he had attempted to shield it and make it kinder than it usually was, "My skin is tough as a bears... It'll take more than that to hurt me." He smiled.
The bartender had him toss the body out back, where it would be burned on a pyre. He tossed the parts of the other man out there as well. The floor had a large amount of blood on it, the bartender had begun to mop it up. Cervantes took a second glance at the bartender before he turned around to notice that the entire bar had cleared out after the fight. Everyone was either terrified, or wanted to be nowhere near when authorities showed up. Cervantes turned his head toward the girl that had spoken to him to notice that she had blushed a little. He assumed it was out of the excitement and embarrassment for asking to help him.
He turned from the bar, grabbing Vengeance and heading outside to see if he could find a place to stay. This small city was very populated for now, most likely from travelers like himself and the others in the bar. Cervantes had been traveling for a while, no rhyme or reason to where he was heading. He just seemed to be wandering, living day to day, expecting assassins and dispatching them. Recently, his history had not been infamous or positive, but just that he was around. It was hard to forget a man like him...
Cervantes had wandered around for about and hour before he gave up on finding an empty room. He walked over to the fountain near the middle of the small town. He set Vengeance on the ground, and laid his head on the massive log, resting in the darkness of the night, preparing to sleep.
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