The Desert's Rose.

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by The Fox and The Spider, Jan 3, 2013.

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    Mitusawa De Vante.(Character sheet in blog section of profile.)

    "The Desert's Rose."

    Whispers abound of a house of vipers, forged from the twisted and mutated flesh of orphans. An organization which served as the first and final line of defense against the countless hordes who would claim dominion over men. Fables of heroism and sacrifice; as well as swarthy insipid rumors of their true nature. Despite these tales of selflessness, the members of this house are still revered as monsters. Persecuted by man and branded heretics by those who claim to be men of God.

    The grandest abomination within this house receives less social status and respect, than that of the lowliest blacksmith. Marked as pilgrims stripped of any attachments. These monk like beings traverse the vast realms. Enduring in every clime as they served as a vanguard of peace. Some know them as demons, abominations, monsters even mutants. A few would go as far as labeling them the harbingers of woe and despair. For wherever they are found, trouble and death stalks their wake.

    To the east, far from the taint of the politics that is the empire. Exist a simple and pride kingdom. A people who have conquered the scorching dunes of sand and various predators to claim this patch of land as their own. A realm once likened to death had evolved into a thriving economical oasis. To the north of the Viridian mountain ranges rested a small settlement. A beacon of hope to those who dare to travel across the endless stretch of sand.

    With eyes obscured by some sort of cloth bandage, a traveler would press through the sand. Her footprints falling prey to the roaring winds and steady stream of sand being hurled in the air. Her resolve unshaken as she closed the distance between herself and this town. Passing through the threshold of its mouth, its stone walls serving as a barrier against the wind and sand. Two scars adorned her chest, remnants of a harrowing tale that is her creation. A constant reminder of the pain she had to endure in order to survive.

    With twin blades resting against her hips, the pilgrim would make her way through these stone streets. Unlike most realms, this region knew little about her kind. And though they heard the legends of the nearby providence. They lacked the proper knowledge necessary to identify her. One might find themselves in a quandary when observing Mitsusawa. Despite having her eyes shielded, she still managed to navigate her terrain with ease and grace. This was solely due to the fact that she was not blind.

    Though she did see the world in a different light. While most behold shape, color and texture. She witnessed the flow and ebb of all energy. A metaphysical map of sorts which granted her an almost inhuman level of perception. That served as a catalyst for both curses and blessings. Despite a few puzzle looks being sent her way, the warrior would maintain her bearing. Not permitting the idle perceptions of the local populace to impede or cloud her vision. For like usual she was here on business not pleasure.

    Finally she would find herself standing by her objective. A small fountain within the center of town. A statue of a man with a spear penetrating the shell of a massive scorpion resided within its epicenter. Looking skyward toward the cerulean crisp sky, Mitsusawa would drop. Taking root on a vacant bench, arms now nesting against her defined abdomen. A heavy sigh of relief parting from her lushes lips. Before permitting its arches to contort, plastering a subtle smile on her picturesque face. For weeks she had traveled with little to no rest. She battled both predators and the climate. From man to vile beast, from sand storms to the frigid nights.

    But finally she could taste respite; or as much as she permitted to savor. For soon it would shatter; and she would once more find herself waltzing with the angel of death. A dance she knew all too well.
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    Silvery threads seemed to work impatiently upon the ebony backdrop, an art so practiced over the years that she could produce these stitches in such haste, and yet the quality of her trade would not suffer. Einhellika Silverwind looked to the masterpiece she had created in very fabric of the night, what had been cradled by the airy tendrils of the silent atmosphere. It was a mirror image of the radiant moon, and she then worked to conceal the true lunar orb from view. What would come of her efforts? Travelers of land and sea had relied on the adornments of night to lead them, as those in many other trades had used the heavens as a tool in there own ways. Perhaps this orb,aglow in it's manufactured resplendence would lead them all astray somehow, first to lull them in a false sense of security. Strands of the luminescent fibers which had bloomed upon her crown rustled in the gentle sway of the air current, bangs briefly sweeping over her vivid pink eyes.

    She was entitled The Seamstress, her shoppe nestled in the midst of a town vibrant with life. Rarely a customer did visit her strange store, shelves abundant with the oddities stitched of her own hand, and hair. It was rumored that those whom had purchased the garments they seemed compelled to own had fallen to misfortunes, unfortunate events to ultimately extinguish their lives. There seemed no other answer. Those native to the area stayed well away from this peculiar woman, but foreigners to the land, or those looking to test the validity of the rumors had crossed the threshold into her world, only to become victims of her sinister whims.

    Sewing was an extension of this witch, hexes forged into every durable thread of fabric she encountered. Her lips were painted a lurid red with the dyes drained of the newest material she stroked, her fingers roaming over its folds as if the light caress was deemed for a lover. Soon the garment would be spent, offering to her all it could give.
  3. A man clad in crimson robes would approach the viper, rooting himself next to her whilst avoiding eye contact. “I see you made it after all?” He’d state, his words birthing a faint smile to reside on her picturesque face. “Indeed you should know better than to doubt me. But this is neither here or there…what is the job?” Mitsusawa direct and straight to the point as ever. “Glad to see you haven’t changed. This enthusiasm of yours is going to get you killed some day if you aren’t careful.” The strange man replied. The mutant’s eyes drifting to peer at him through cloth wrappings. Somewhat displeased with his words. “Did I hit a nerve? It doesn’t matter..The job is simple. A rogue chimera has been causing chaos. We want you to kill it and see if you can figure out who its creator is.”
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    Mitsusawa new there was more to the job, something he wasn’t telling her. “Is that it? If so someone of much lower rank could handle this…why bring me out to this shit hole than?” She inquired into, arching a brow. “You have all the info you need. After all you do love your surprises.” As soon as these words parted from his mouth the cloaked man would rise from his nested position. “There is a rumored witch,,,she owns a shop in town. Track her and enlist her services. I am sure if she agrees once she meets this chimera she’ll find more than a reward to justify her cooperation.” He stated before walking off slowly. “And what if she refuses?” The man would abruptly halt as soon as her words tickled his senses. “Trust me…she won’t.” He concluded before fading into the distance.

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    “I don’t know what’s worse, the monsters I face or that man…”Mitsusawa whispered to herself before standing up right. Her uncanny perception permitting her to follow the potent threads of magic emitting across these streets. Making her way down these lonesome brick paved roads. Finding herself standing outside of the nefarious shop. Insidious vibes reverberated ill with the mutant. “I see..” She whispered, the arches of her luscious lips contorting to form a wide grin as she made her way toward the shop. Twisting the knob of brass before pushing the door open. “Hello?” She bellowed as she passed through its threshold.

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    No doubt this witch would sense the vile sorcery and alchemy of which she was conceived. An abomination that had no natural place in this world. In many regards Mitsusawa wasn’t all that different from the chimera she was to hunt. Whether or not the witch was aware of her kind or not was of little import.

  4. Mitsusawa's words traveled across the stagnant air of the dusty shoppe, causing Einhellika to turn and face the woman whom had encroached upon her quietude. Her lips seemed too rigid to offer a smile nor frown at the new arrival, the small, pointed talons that adorned each fingertip seemed poised in such a way as to strike fresh flesh. This character seemed too fancily dressed to seek a purchase of her wares, so then why had she intruded? "May I help you?"

    She asked curtly, a small yawn forcing its way in tow of the question. Einhellika hadn't a stranger upon the filthy floorboards in quite some time, and the rodents which had resided within these walls didn't seem very welcoming. They scuttled their way to the crevasses they would resign to after foraging the aisles for whatever they could feast upon. She lowered her guard, fingertips falling to the marred surface of the oaken counter which would barricade her from any real invasion of her personal space. "What do you want?" She blinked a few times, before her gaze caught a small spider quickly ascending its web. She managed a small frown now, the vibrant orbs which were a necessity to take in the world in a visual sense rolled, before once more searching the face of Mitsusawa.
  5. The shop reeked of filth, something her potent sense of smell was able to extract. Her unique sense of vision also drew a picture of an ill kept shop. It seemed that whomever this witch was, she wasn't accustomed to having many customers nor visitors. Mitsusawa couldn't help but feel her frigid words barreling down on her. It was almost as if her very presence was some sort of bother. In truth she received a far warmer welcome from the rodents scurrying underneath the floor boards. Her ability to sense both spiritual and magical properties granted her a 360 dome like view which extended from quite a distance from her location. Things like shapes were woven together by a mysterious thread and color was something which had no meaning to her. For the colors she perceived were not pending on the pigmentation of the objects around her. Rather by the energy which coursed throughout it.

    "Yes, I believe you may." she retorted, returning her harshness with a sense of subtle kindness, almost as if forced. The viper would pivot so that she was facing the woman, keeping a good few feet of distance less she prove hostile. After all it was crafty spell casters like this one which had birthed her into this world. And so Mitsusawa for one generally avoided contact with one of her kind. "What I want is simple madam." Pausing briefly as the arches of her luscious lips morphed, dawning a wide grin as her foul magic seemed intermingled with her very soul. Thus dispelling the notion that such rumors of her vocation as being falsified. "My name is Mitsusawa the crimson wing angel. 4th seat of the enforcer squad within the house of vipers." She felt no need for deception. For any swarthy guise she attempted to portray would most likely be pierced by her own powers of observation.

    "I have been contracted by the locals here through a mediator to exterminate a certain beast which stalks outside of these flaccid walls. A chimera of sorts; undoubtedly unusual in nature and sown together by insidious magic. I have been advised to seek out your services, seeing how you are indeed a witch. Foul by nature in the eyes of most, but very good and professional at what you do. I for one have an eye for spotting talented woman." A chuckle parting from her soft lips as her arms now nested against her defined exposed abdomen. The scars on her chest displaying themselves, scars in the shape of an X.

    "You must pardon my bluntness, I am not the sort of person to beat around the bush. I tend to prefer going straight to the point seeing how I'd hate to waste any of my own time...let alone any of yours." Mitsusawa continued, her eyes peering through the influence of the cloth wrapping adorning her face. As if she was ashamed or self conscious regarding her physical appearance. For one whose vision was shielded this young lady seemed to have no problem navigating the terrain or taking in her surroundings. Without even focusing her eyes on this woman, Mitsusawa was still able to part the influence of her barreling gaze. Permitting those around her to become fully aware when she was paying attention A gesture both kind, but also meant to impart a sense of fearlessness.

    For in truth she could track their movements even during the blackest of nights. It was her way of saying I got my eye on you and I am not afraid. Something which was both meant to state sexual prowess as well as a sense of authority. A mutual connection permitting the clear exchange of her stance. At the moment her influence was neither threatening nor sexual, rather done out of a sense of proper social etiquette.

    "So have I aroused your curiosity at least?" This mutant would conclude. Unsure of what this woman's reaction would be to all of this. No doubt even this witch was capable of detecting the alien and rich magical properties emitting from this beast. By all accounts a chimera this large and complex shouldn't exist. Yet somehow it did...The same could be said for herself she supposed. Save being a giant of course. For traces of foul alchemy and vile sorcery lurked deep within. And though they were faint...given enough time if one had keen enough senses they would sense it reverberating from within this mutants core.
  6. The road is paved of risk and riches. Tribble had spoken those fateful words. Little did she know, those very words would change the life of a humble warrior in a profound way.

    Coiling, leuceous locks cascaded down Avai's back as her gaze became drawn toward the azure heavens. Champagne tendrils were swept away from her delicate, feminine features by a gentle gust of wind that was very welcome but unusual for the arid climate she had forced herself to become accustomed to. The skies revealed no signs of rain, not even a cloud to give her some mercy from the boiling heat of the sun. Her gaze seemed forever transfixed upon the the massive, firey eye glaring down upon her, her comrades.

    " she stricken with blindness, you think?" The rogue, small in stature, quipped in a voice that was unpleasantly grating to her listeners. She received no answer, slumping back against a fallen bough with a pout clearly displayed upon her face. As the towheaded leader finally tore her attention from the sky, she observed Tribble displeasedly before speaking to the party of ill-equipped adventurers. "It is too hot to traverse this unfamiliar territory now. We will have to wait for nightfall, or surely will will drop like flies." Tribble's dark mane swept across her shoulders as she shook her head. "But we have nothing to eat, nothing to quench our parched throats! And, I don't know how long I can stand the rather...insufficient shelter we have.

    This cave reeks like rotting corpses! She removed herself from the undesireable atmosphere, but her nostrils couldn't seem to escape the scent of decomposition. " hair is plastered to my face and neck!" She tried to wring out her hair, pouting and making sure that her suffering was obvious to everyone. "We're all suffering. I don't see how complaining will solve anything." Revlis shot an angry look at the rogue, baring his teeth. His mousey hewed facial hair glistened with sweat. "We must not turn upon one another, surely we can wait a while longer. I think there's a town up ahead somewhere..." Avai unfolded a crude map for all to see.

    "How are we going to get there?" Tribble spoke, having been riled up by the warrior's harsh tone. "Our horses were those things.." She cocked her head toward the meat pile that laid at the opposite wall of the cave. "I've never seen anything like them!" Revlis nodded in agreement. "Aye, neither have I. I'm almost certain that none of us individually had encountered these creatures in our travels." His hair matched Tribble's in length, blanketing the nape of his neck in sweat and dirt.

    Hellinka sat in silence, brooding. She usually only commented when adrressed, otherwise wasting not a breath to speak to her companions. "Well, our armor is in need of some serious repair, and I doubt it will offer no protection at all until then. " Tribble's laugh was cut short by her own interruption. "You look like a dinged up tin can, Revlis!" Her pointed finger quickly retreated when he looked upon her, as if to size her up for a fight. Avai's eyes rolled, as she was losing patience with the petty squabbling. "Yes, we are all in need of baths, a decent meal in our stomachs, bed rest. Our weapons and armor alike have taken much damage, and we are out of most supplies. "

    Her scalemail seemed held together only by the grace of the deities, Hellinka was clad in tattered pieces of cloth, remnants of a once luxurious garment that docked at her ankles. Tribble was going on about her leather, how it had been split here and there, how it smelled like sweating bovine. She only fell silent when the loud rumblings of someone's stomach had made her lose train of thought, which she spent the next few moments desperately trying to grasp at floating nonsense in her mind, to make an attempt to again become the center of attention. "The sun is setting, and we must be on our way." Avai turned away from the fingers of purple and pinks that now that unfurled across the sky. Arsenic's words carried them into the first signs of nightfall.

    As everyone exited the small hovel of a cave and started their trek toward Hearthforge, a rather icy rain began to fall upon the party, making them endure another they were unexpecting. It did not impede their journey, falling upon them in small droplets, but Tribble and the mage were shivering with every step. They came upon a speck of a village, seeing the burning torches at the entrance of Hearthforge in the distance.

    Hellinka had knowledge of spells that would most likely dissipate th rain, but offered no help for a more desired climate. Her own discomfort would not be in vain if those around her also suffered. She smiled on the inside. They were taken aback by the sound of bellowing laughter, and the mage reeled out of her reverie. "I smell girl..." Spoke an uneducated brute, but it was too dark to distinguish any figures lurking about under the shroud of night. It laughed again, this time Hellinka's silken voice echoed in incantation. Tiny orbs of white light dotted the air around them like stars. "Boo!"

    Avai was greeted with the visage of an Orc, the creature having to stoop down to be at eye level with an average sized human. She stared unblinkingly for a moment, not knowing if she should consider it hostile and act first, or stay reserved and watch it's actions. "Me" It pointed to itself, smiling proudly that it was able to pronounce part of it's monicker. "Hi! I'm Tribble En Lace, sinster to the great Rogue, Arsenic!" The rogue manuveured through the group, pushing Avai out of the way in the process. "I've never seen an Orc before.." Straining against the darkness, she viewed Ara's sillhouette. "I never knew Orcs came in female versions!" She breathed, clearly astonished by this.

    Avai's metallic nails drummed against the tabletop, her sad gaze seeking the barmaid. Perhaps she wished to drown her sorrows in a stiff imbibement, for it would be too sad to drudge up fresh memories, and wallow through the bog of despair sober minded. She could still hear the screams which were torn from them as they were ambushed by Darklings, creatures which seemed to manifest of the residues produced by fear, interwoven with the darkness itself.

    As she did dwell upon the subject of the fatality which befell her team, her mind's eye had once again captured the moment in an all too vivid detail. The snarling specters ripping at their bodies, flesh falling everywhere. Tribble's voice would abrade the ears of all as she perished, having been impaled by a shadowy claw. The one known as Avail would stand in the midst of fallen comrades, ready to fend off any opposition which may approach her.

    They all seemed to recede then, what she had assumed to be the lead would paint a message upon the thick atmosphere which seemed to encumber her greatly. "Our Master wishes you to find her, but most likely you will slump like a holey sack of flour upon the cold, unforgiving soil. Carrion and worms shall feed upon your flesh, rendering your lifeless form in tatters!" Their rasping words seemed to infiltrate every crevasse of her mind, unearthing secrets which were hidden even to her knowledge.

    Avai shot a look to the woman who barged into the tavern, commanding the audience of all which occupied it. What was she going on about? Didn't she realize that this establishment was one in which most came to brood upon their troubles, and numb their pain away with a series of drink? The head which intruded upon her quiet time had left a trail of blood upon the dusty floorboards, gathering the momentum needed of an unlevel foundation as to carry it toward the bar.

    "I feel sorry for the barmaid." She would mumble under her breath, searching for the face usually brightened by a smile as to reflect a look of pity to her. "Perhaps I shall ask her if she wishes me to mop away the scum. I am more accustomed to blood than she, and it would probably unsettle her stomach if she tried. " The steel clawed woman rose from the booth, the spurs of her boots making a clang with each step as she encroached upon the space of this woman.

    "Is there a problem here?" Her pale blue gaze traveled downward from the woman's face. "Why do you question the integrity of these people? Why do you sully their reputations? She caught a stray glance of Morbidia out the window, the fiendish flora resembling the bony structures of which an infant's face would sit upon.

    The newcomer didn't give her an answer, instead she rushed upon young Avail, exposing fiendish weapons as she lunged at the warrior's supple form. "I see you've exceeded your welcome..." Spoke Avai, in hurried spurts of breath. The brawl caught the eye of all the patrons which still loosely clung to the tattered shreds of coherence, causing them to root for the good doer. The opposing force was thrown threw the window, glass fragments seemed to tumble freely of the pane they were connected to upon the impact. The woman, battered and bleeding from many lacerations, took off through the crowd.

    Einhellika stared at Mitsusawa, seemingly unfazed by her words. After several moments of holding the gaze of this woman, her attention was shifted to the sound of breaking glass, which she assumed had been the product of a brawl at the tavern. "Why do you bother a simple shoppekeep then? Mercenaries can be hired next door." She suddenly regretted voicing those words aloud, for to accompany this woman on her adventure would give Einhellika the opportunity to see her curses brought to life, give her the chance to bear witness to these unfortunate events which were to unfold.

    "I'll, then." Admitted the witch with a sigh of resignation. She knew not what a Chimera was, but she imagined a foul creature rising from the sulpurous pits to thwart them at every turn of the journey they were to embark on. "I shall gather some of my belongings, and meet you outside of the tavern."
  7. at first the witch would protest, a reaction which was too be expected. Though the brawl just outside however was an unforeseeable event. The clamor of their clashing giving rise to a simple question. Why not bother the mercenaries? A silly question for one to pose and burden her with. One which would not merit an immediate respond. But as quickly as she seemed to be filled with doubt, the witch would alter her original position. "Because I am not paying you..." She would finally reply in regards to her initial statement. Giving the shop keeper a simple smile. Her attempt to fool her with her supposed respected vocation failing miserably. For Mitsusawa was able to sense her true self or a fragment there of within the flow of her own energy. Something which few were equipped to understand let alone explain.

    "I will wait for you there then..." She concluded, turning her back toward the woman. Knowing full well that this witch was most likely up to no good. Still despite this realization her resolve remained unwavering. Now was not the time to worry about such details, down the road she would face such troubles if they should somehow manifest themselves. Perhaps this was arrogance speaking? Or was it confidence she seldom could separate the two. Pulling the door open the viper would depart from her shop, making her way toward the ever so lively and pleasant bar. A scene she simply a pure sarcastic way. A heavy sigh parting from her soft pink lips as she closed the distance between ehrself and the establishment.

    With haste she would undo her bandages, securing them within her pockets. With eye lids still closed Mitsusawa would pass through it's threshold. Casually opening her eyes allowing those deep jaded eyes of hers to shine. A physical trait of hers she often tended to hide. For despite their beauty one could sense both sadness and blindness within them. The former of most was an emotion she preferred not to share. In truth this fighting was giving her a headache, she cared not for whom was right or wrong. Such matters were of little import to her, instead she lusted for silence and a peace of mind. The latter of which was the rarest of treasures.

    "Stop it or prepare to suffer a painful death at the hand of a vipers blade!" She bellowed, not caring to mask her identity. In order to state she meant business Mitsusawa would slide her shoulders free of her coat, permitting it to dangle. The coat secured to her waste due to her leather strapping. The hoarse whisper of steel friction against steel pierced the normal banter. Like a daunting song it harrowed both experience and a frigid sense of dread. As if her blade was alive and thirsted for more blood. despite slaying countless monsters and demons. "I have slayed many a foul beast with ease...I'll have no problem with a few men." She proclaimed, the locals naturally feared her kind due to their rumored origins and forbidden powers.

    The top of her frame was adorned by her crimson leather armor. Which lefts her defined abdomen, shoulders and some cleavage exposed. It was not meant to entice or wile anyone, rather to display her deep scars. scars of which were proof of her unique conception even among her mutated kind. with blade resting against her shoulder and hips arched as her free hand gently cupped her hip. Mitsusawa would wait, tapping her foot like some sort of scornful mother. 'Well?" She inquired into, not caring what others thought of her. Those jaded cold eyes of her drifting to the woman who appeared to be part of the source of this problem. Before averting around the if to generate the illusion of sight. Failing to mask her handicap...
  8. "I apologize for the window, this should be a suitable payment for the trouble."Avai lay a rather shapely hunk of gold upon the bar, and turned toward the door. The Bartender had prepared a glass of his most expensive liquor for her as a gesture of gratitude, but she wove her hand as to dismiss it. "Please, gave it to the next one to walk through this door. A simple act to brighten the day of someone in need." She glimpsed her forearms, noticing a few cuts which were dotted with tiny beads of blood. May I wash up somewhere?" She asked, watching the hand of the burly man direct her toward the stairs.

    Einhellika's hands greedily grasped at varying sewing tools, then she treated a roll of linen in a reckless way, claws shearing jagged strips so that she could fill her bag with the rainbow colored cloth. She continued to gather what seemed the most unessential to bring on assumably a perilous journey, but that would remain the opinion of the others.

    Morbidia saw the new face, making an effortless glide as to reach Mitsusawa. "Skullflower?" Asked the woman whom possessed a gloomy twist of tongue and hair the hue of the churning tides of the River Styx. She held out the bouquet in the direction of the woman's grasp, the scent of decomposing flesh wafting upon the gentle breeze.
  9. A strange woman approached her, seemingly unafraid of the mutant which stood before her. Perhaps she was simply ignorant? Unaware of what she truly was? Or perhaps she just wasn't easily frightened? Regardless of her motivation her gesture would evoke a simple arch of a brow. As those empty jaded eyes of hers seemed t stare into the void itself. The once bland expression plastered on her face would dissipate. And in the wake of its destruction a slight smile would rise form its ashes. “Do you not fear me?” She’d inquire into, the viper’s words no doubt sowing seeds of confusion within this woman.<o:p></o:p>
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    Her hand gently caresses the woman’s face as if to get a feel for her facial structure. “Interesting…soft a delicate yet beautiful face. It stands in complete contrast with the aura you give off, the vibe which till this moment strikes a chord…reverberating with my own.” Mitsusawa cared not if her bold actions birthed concern. Such petty things oftimes phased through her. This town was surprisingly filled with quite the characters. On one hand a witch, insidious and insipid by nature. The other this woman who was subtle yet strong, and far warmer compared to the frigid shop owner.
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    “You’re not from around here are you? Your scent is alien and more potent than the locals.” The muscles around her luscious pink lipstugging ever so delicately. Gracing her with a rare sight widen yet genuine smile. “My name is Mitsusawa De Vante, 4th seat within the enforcer squad of the house of vipers. Monster and mutant to most. Harbinger of omens yet savior to those in need No one ever shuns from me when a chimera is eating their children. But once the monster is gone…I will become their dreaded monster. I suppose I can’t blame them…after all it takes a monster to hunt and kill a monster.”
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    No doubt her words would only further puzzle if not enthrall this one. For the moment she would converse with this woman as she waited for the witch to finish gathering her supplies and trinkets. A chuckle parting from her as it dawned on her how sill she truly sounded. “You must pardon my choice of words…I am not use to socializing…it is new to me.” She’d elaborate before gathering her composure.
  10. "Pluck a flower from my grasp, the skies shall darken, the wind will rasp. Prick your flesh of the the thorn, not a blessing but a curse to those lovelorn. Murdering passions, hopes shall die.."As she was not confronted with a nervous or screaming crowd, Morbidia's abyssal eyes opened to behold only Mitsusawa. Bony fingers folding around the withering stems of her ghastly bouquet, the heavy heads of the demonic flora drooping as their weight could no longer be supported. Her stygian tendrils grazed a ghostly countenance as to follow the subtle movements of her head, hair that fell down her back in soft wavelets, like the tendrils of the underworld poised to snatch a newly departed soul from the temporal plane.

    She was a conspicuous stain upon the streets she frequented, trying to unload her Skull flowers upon a collectively unwelcome public. Now there was naught but this newcomer to harken her gloomy twist of tongue, as those native to this area went out of their way so not to cross paths with her. "...and uncontrolled, a weeping eye. Upon a sigh, your expired dreams, lost to your gaze, the lively gleam." The words skittered across her tongue, finding an exit between slightly parted lips in no more than a whisper. Morbidia then felt the caress of living flesh upon her cheek, heard the words which flowed from her lips like honey. Her own flat voice emitted in a hum, vocal chords quelled by an almost paralytic sensation derived from the intimate interaction.

    She walked about under the shroud of her personal sorrow, one that seemed to envelope both sky and land and everything between. She seemed to exude gloom from every pore, it radiated from her like an aura. Her presence seemed to ensnare all as to share her depression, as misery loved company. Morbidia allowed for her grasp to loosen, and soon her signature flowers littered the path. She seemed oblivious to Mitsusawa's explanation of her origins, the nightingales which plagued her mind with their melancholy tune finally ceased their almost incessant chirping long enough to alleviate her ears so that they would capture her voice.

    Lifting her gaze to the one which had greeted her, her black laquered lips glistening with the spittle that moistened them parted so very slightly as to take in a breath. The breath would well up within her lungs and become the fuel for the strange dance of her tongue as she wove her response. "I am Morbidia Morthel, and Skull flowers I have none. But, like all others you shall behold one last time, the setting of the sun. For you, like mortals all, the clock will no longer toll, as you shall be laid to rest in a cold, black hole."

    Meaning this as not the death threat she may perceive, she simply extended her hands as to summon hers into her grasp. "How dost this place ensnare the living, as it seems to be a perdition where the dead should roam? Within you beats a pulse so strong, although you dwell within a land that is as bleak as a corpse's home."
  11. This woman’s words drenched in an almost poetic rhythm as the stranger spoke to her. As if to cast some sort of spell on her. Mitsusawa could only arch a brow at first, permitting silence to brew between them as she though over her words. For the moment she proved to be a muse, for the way her thoughts were posed were certainly thought provoking. But like all things this enamored state of mind would in due time pass. “I died long ago. I was a young girl when my humanity was taken from me. What remains is simple an abomination. Still such an existence is preferable to the great void.” She would retort, failing to interrupt her closing statements as a threat.
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    If this stranger attempt anything than she would find out firsthand what it was like to battle with a true viper. Which was something few have experienced since most of them end up giving up the ghost. “You speak like some sort of prophet? Why do you try to entice me with such silvered words?” Mitsusawa would bluntly inquire into. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance regardless madam Morbida.” The mutant displaying an ounce of proper social etiquette for one of her kind. The local’s who were within the establishment would gaze on them from afar. Prefering to observe in silence minus the occasion idle banter.
    <o:p> </o:p>
    They were shocked that anyone would willingly approach one of her breed. Let alone introduce them to it. Such poisonous words merited no repose. Undeserving of even a single glare. Frigidly and without question Mitsusawa would tone them out. Something she had perfected long ago when she first started her travels. The mutant would laugh as she mentioned a strong pulse, a subtle blush creeping on her face. “Please such flattery doesn’t suit me.” She replied, shrugging her shoulders. “I see you’re perceptive if you’re able to deduce that much. Perhaps in time I can show you the pulse you feel adorning my soul?” Her way of extending a subtle offer.
  12. Avai soon returned to the bar, invigorated by the cool water she splashed upon her face and arms. She had cleansed the basin of her sanguinary fluids, and neatly folded the linens she used to dry herself. As she started a slow approach for the exit, she viewed Morbidia engaged in communicating with another female. Avai pitied the strange creature, but Morbidia's appearance had also struck a chord of fear in her. Her nervous footfalls would soon bring her outside, and there seemed not any other path available which would take her away from the town. Closing her heaven hued eyes, she gathered a soft breath, hoping that Morbidia would not be able to discern her from the rest of the crowd. Suddenly her eyes fluttered open, as new thoughts seemed to conflict with the previous ones that muddled her brain. It was wrong to have such a discriminatory view because of someone's appearance, she knew during this age that the inncent of other races had been put to death just because the townsfolk had been ignorant. Avai felt guilty of this crime, as she tried not to separate people into different stations, but to view them as a whole...all created by some mysterious complexities of the universe. She decided to make her way to them, offering but a friendly smile and her assistance where it was wanted.

    Within Morbidia's lithe form a heart functioned in a way to possess her with the blood flow needed to fuel her innards and extremities with life sustaining juices, but she was far from being alive. However, she had only experienced death so briefly, her soul soaring across the pitch colored firmament to become lain as listless as her flesh was within the grave, at the doorstep to the heavens. The Gods would imbue her with life once again, for she had suffered an untimely fate and therefore was unwanted in the eternal dwelling of the clouds.

    Her brain was divided into two hemispheres, one that thought of life and produced a spark of coexistence to become animated inside of her,and the other which was of the necrosed matter associated with decay.These two halves were in conflict from the moment she was released from the grip of death that had made her rigid, producing within her the willpower as to dig herself from the prison of soil she was inhumed. She had not the memory of which had felled her, of what accident or deliberate act which had ultimately took her life. Her body was not marred in such a way as to give her the telltale signs of hanging or other executionary means of demise, and she was unpoxed as to reveal that she was not one of the many victims taken by plague.

    What event had taken place as to resign Morbidia from the world? That was the key which in being forged, would unlock the door to her inner bastille, the imprisonment of her soul within the vessel which roamed the temporal plane. She seemed all too eager to thrust the Skull flowers into the grasp of another, as if the transaction itself was supposed to fullfill something of purpose. To the gaze of others, she would appear as a peculiar woman, youthful but with crimson rings that decorated the flesh about her eyes, as if she had at one time shed tears of blood. Death lingered with her in such a fashion as her skin was not pigmented with the hues of life, no matter how long she spent in the sun. As for the undesirable flora she usually could not be parted with, The apetuous heads resembled the skulls of infants which drooped upon withering spines. the eyeless sockets seemed to cast one's mental state to the abyss if one were to opt for a closer inspection, the strange, toothy smiles seemed as manufactured as the work of a dollmaker.

    Morbidia simply stood there, gazing upon the canvas of this living creature, with not a thought as to evoke a sense of danger from him. Her empty hands lowered to her sides, and her face was turned toward the uppermost region of the invisible shell that seemed to enclose them. Odd growths began to bud upon her skin, which would be only discernable because of the holey condition of her clothing, which would priorly derive a conclusion that her garments were moth eaten. The sullen Bard turned her attention back to Mitsusawa, her smile was just a tiny twitch upon her face as if the lips were tugged by strings. Meanwhile, the bumpy protrusions upon her flesh were metastisizing, until they took the semblance of the very flowers that she had stood upon. She hurriedly plucked them from the body which had acted as their soil and fertilizer, the quivering veins being pulled from her own vessel did not seem to invoke any verbal or visible expression of discomfort.

    "Accept my gift, make a wreathe, it shall decorate the the door to your wooden sheathe." She eventually found the lyrics to speak in a monotonous tone, continuing only as the hand which was occupied with the Skull flowers jutted out toward her, those which had not been stepped on or ruined by the fall. " the event of burial six feet deep, none shall disturb your earthen sleep."
  13. Mitsusawa couldn’t help but stare and listen as this strange woman called out to her. Handing her some sort of flower which seemed to sprout and bloom from within her very flesh. With a puzzled look plastering itself on her face Mitsusawa would gently take the flower. Showing only mild hesitation as her attention turned toward the witch who seemed to have finally joined them. “I don’t know what to say?” She spoke somewhat flustered by what was transpiring. It was at this point that a major player in the coming events would step into the scene.<o:p></o:p>

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    “Normally one would say thank you.” The voice was hypnotic wreathed in harmonious undertones. It could be likened to the voice of a siren. Those temptresses which have claimed many men. As she stepped from the shadows the gray skinned and snow white haired beauty would stand out. For few drow dare to venture alone within the world of men. Her attire even more exotic than her appearance or accent. Adorned in crimson and black leather attire, exposing and advertising her defined core, perky bosom and well shaped leg. The leather was adorned in a web like pattern resembling that of a spider. The back engraved with the shape of her Goddess, their holy symbol.
    “Unless I am mistaken and all manners have been swept from this land?” The drowess spoke whilst closing the distance between them. Her stride subtle yet seductive, not a surprise seeing how most female drows proclaimed their sexual prowess. This woman struck Mitsusawa as odd, something about her didn’t seem right. But for some reason she was unable to detect why. Which only further deepened the mystery. Her stare would not go unnoticed, the drows luscious lips arcing forming a wide insidious grin. “Please try not to stare too long, after all it is rude.” A chuckle parting from her lips. Mitsusawa shaking her head. “Is it not also rude to converse without introducing yourself?” The viper questioned.
    Her words being greeted with a wag of her finger. “Tsk, tsk tsk, all good things come to those who are patient. My name is unimportant what is however…” She would pause, her demonic tail coiling up around her waist as she circled the strange group of ladies. “Is why I am here?” This Drow seemed content on keeping her true name away from Mitsusawa. “Pray tell then why bother me?” The mutant retorted, watching closely as the drowses was now but a few feet from Morbidia. “Such a beautiful flower you seemed to birth. I would love one as well? If you give me one I might just tell you my name?” She’d ignore Mitsusawa twirling before permitting her long nail to gently stroke her cheek.
    “And she ignores me…”Mitsusawa’s words were followed by a sigh. “Oh sorry I got distracted. Now where was I? Oh yes…I am here to kill my pet. It seems it wandered off from my yard. And has caused a minor mess on my neighbor’s new lawn.” She jested, partially exposing the truth. “Than buy yourself another dog?” Mitsusawa retorted, turning to face the witch. “We should go now and leave this one.” The mutant would recommend.
    “I doubt they sell many giant chimera’s here…although…” She would arch her hip as her pointer finger now tapped her bottom lip a few times as if she were deep in thought. Mitsusaw would abruptly halt, turning to face this drowses. “Wait…” As she turned to face the gray skinner woman. The drow offering her a wide smile and a wink. “Now you see eh? I could use your help in putting ol’fido down. And you ould use my help as well. Trust me you’d both end up dead without me.” She’d conclude.
  14. Einhellika Silverwind made her way toward Mitsusawa, realizing that this woman had aquired the assistance of two others. A warrior and someone whom at first glance seemed a warmed over creature from the grave. Her gaze shifted to the carrion birds which flew in a ring like formation over the heads of this troupe, likely waiting for a tasty snack of a fallen Morbidia. Then, she witnessed the event unfolding before her very gaze, the flowers harvested of this woman's own body, along with those she bent to retrieve from the path. What powers did this witch possess, to spawn such gory flora from her own being? Perhaps Einhellika could obtain the sectets to unlocking this ability for herself somehow.

    The blonde female known as Avail eyed the Seamstress from afar, having heard many rumors speculated of the fashions she assembled. The warrior was in desperate need of some repairs to her clothing, and her quick decision to puruse the wares of this woman had not inspired in her thoughts of better judgement. She quietly excused herself, not wishing to distract the two from speaking, but it was still polite to give a notice of her dismissal for the time being. Einhellika watched Avai start toward her, and for a fleeting moment she'd thought of a hurried retreat to the cobwebbed walls of her shoppe. "May I bother you for a moment? I am in need of armor." Einhellika emitted a low growl the moment she was out of earshot.

    Morbidia froze, her fingers lingering just beyond the flower which had been willingly accepted by Mitsusawa. In all the years of trying to do so, this had been the first time anyone had ever took a flower from her, the symbolism it stood for. One of twelve had been freed of her possession, and with the exchange came the sheer inability to weave the strange, depressing lyrics she was known for. The morbid Bard recalled her past, gazing into Mitsusawa's eyes.

    "I suppose we shall get you fitted, then." Spoke Einhellika, in a threatening manner as her grasp tightened about the measuring tape.

  15. Mitsusawa was confused, unable to grasp the symbolism behind this flower. The viper had spent most of her life straying away from any social scene. Things such as customs and courtesy were only parted due to a brief course they were given within the houses academy. For a moment she had forgotten about the witch and Drow as those empty green eyes of hers attempted to lock with this Morbidia. Snapping back into reality as the warrior requested a change of clothing.
    "I will wait here...." Mitsusawa would proclaim, holding onto the virtue of patience. Gently biting down on the bottom of her lip as soon as those words parted from her lips. Once more permitting her attention to barrel down on that of the strange flower girl. "I am sorry did I offend?" The mutant inquired into.

    Meanwhile a frown now plastered itself on Valerna's picturesque face. Bothered by the fact that Morbidia failed to even acknowledge her. No words nor glance was offered to her, it was almost as if she were some sort of apparition. Eluding the level of perception of this woman. But last time she checked she was very much alive. Which only left one alternative...she was ignored. This epiphany would not bode well for her. Drow's by nature were a proud people generally suffering from a sense of egoism. Often considering themselves above that of the surfaces races. To be pushed aside so casually could be liken to having another spit on your face after you invited them into your home.

    Naturally Valerna was no exception to this rule. Disposition would begin to settle in as her intolerance would soon be known. Trying her best to fend off the rage which had begun to boil inside of her. Not wanting to make the extent of her wound known for two reasons. Firstly, it could be viewed as a sign of weakness and exploited. Drow's by nature were a Xenophobic people, seldom trusting others. The displaying of weakness ofttimes led to one's death within the harsh realm that is the Underdark. Secondly, she still had use for these surface dwellers.

    If she were to lash out of anger Valerna could ultimately severe potential...resources. Some might find such mentalities to be a bit frigid if not narrow minded. But such approaches have ensured her races survival against the vast hordes of death which make up the Underdark. Mitsusawa could sense the subtle shift in her aura, but like before she was unable to fully read it. Something about this woman blocked her normally uncanny sense of perception. Which like before still troubled her.

    "Is something the matter?"
    Mitsusawa would pry, unaware of the potential jar of chaos and destruction she may pry open. The drowess would shake her head, maintaining control. Her unparalleled military bearing proving quite useful of guise the extent of her wrath. Making it seem as if she were only mildly troubled. "It is nothing, at least of import." She would retort, closing her eye lids shielding those shimmering amethyst pools of hers. Her demonic tail unfurling itself from around her waist, swaying side to side. "I have a question that tail...last time I check your kind doesn't normally have tails?" Mitsusawa would once more find herself asking a question to kill time.

    "This tail was added as part of my flesh. I was not born with it...tough if you ask me it's quite the accessory and before you ask it has a mind of it's own. More so than you can imagine..."
    The Drowess knew very well that this mutant was waiting to ask the real question on her mind. "You know you can just ask me? I am quite proud of my work after all..." Silence would brew between them as Mitsusawa thought of a fair way to pose her inquiries. "Trust me I don't bite...often." She'd chuckle whilst offering a wink, her sense of humor only causing a mild grin to creep on the vipers face.
  16. Einhellika Silverwind made her way toward Mitsusawa, realizing that this woman had acquired the assistance of two others. A warrior and someone whom at first glance seemed a warmed over creature from the grave. Her gaze shifted to the carrion birds which flew in a ring like formation over the heads of this troupe, likely waiting for a tasty snack of a fallen Morbidia. Then, she witnessed the event unfolding before her very gaze, the flowers harvested of this woman's own body, along with those she bent to retrieve from the path. What powers did this witch possess, to spawn such gory flora from her own being? Perhaps Einhellika could obtain the secrets to unlocking this ability for herself somehow. The blonde female known as Avail eyed the Seamstress from afar, having heard many rumors speculated of the fashions she assembled. The warrior was in desperate need of some repairs to her clothing, and her quick decision to puruse the wares of this woman had not inspired in her thoughts of better judgement. She quietly excused herself, not wishing to distract the two from speaking, but it was still polite to give a notice of her dismissal for the time being.

    Einhellika watched Avai start toward her, and for a fleeting moment she'd thought of a hurried retreat to the cobwebbed walls of her shoppe. "May I bother you for a moment? I am in need of armor." Einhellika emitted a low growl the moment she was out of earshot. Morbidia froze, her fingers lingering just beyond the flower which had been willingly accepted by Mitsusawa. In all the years of trying to do so, this had been the first time anyone had ever took a flower from her, the symbolism it stood for. One of twelve had been freed of her possession, and with the exchange came the sheer inability to weave the strange, depressing lyrics she was known for. The morbid Bard recalled her past, gazing into Mitsusawa's eyes.

    Pink eyes seem to bore through an oblivious Avai, as Eihellika fashioned a noose from the measuring tape. "I must say, you create very unique fashions. Simply delightful!" Exclaimed the warrior, whom seemed mere seconds from death by strangulation. "Personally I opt for more vibrant hued attire, but there are many of which these funereal colors suit best." She turned, and the makeshift weapon was swiftly hidden from view. "Your armor compliments your skin tone." Exuding politeness, in all actuality the felt a deep seated sense of dread bloom within her of both Einhellika and the business she owned. In addition to the secretly scheming witch, Morbidia was an all too conspicuous creature which plagued her mind.

    Mitsusawa seemed the most aesthetically normal of the group, save for the scarrifications that marred her torso. She knew that these scars were the product of some traumatic event in the woman's life, and perhaps as they became closer on their ventures, Mitsusawa would divulge how she obtained them. Soon the deed was done, and a masterfully crafted piece of leather was shown to Avai. "You have your...armor." As the currency changed hands, Einhellika's foretalon penetrated the warrior's palm, forcing her to recoil as one would in feeling the sting which comes from a rose thorn piercing their flesh. Drops of blood fell upon the countertop, as Avai seemed to watch the occurrence in a strange slow motion. Eihellika seemed apologetic, blaming the clumsy positioning of her hand in trying to sweep Avai's gold into her own. "Don't fret over it." The woman nursing her injured hand smiled softly.

    "I thank you for your help.." She left the shoppe after a nod puncuated her words, leaving the witch watching the thread of blood run down her claw with a broadening smile upon her face. The silver tines caught the sunlight just so, as Avai lifted her right hand in a wave, briefly blearying her own cerulean gaze with tears. She saw a Drowess, a woman whose kind was unknown to these parts. The creature was breath taking.
  17. Unlike many races, the Drow flaunted their beauty. In the Underdark if one was born with blemishes or deformities they were sacrificed to their malevolent spider goddess. Each and every member of their society needed to be both jaw dropping gorgeous as well as profession weapon masters or spell casters. The weak were devoured, trampled on by those who merited to be their rightful leaders. A cruel and unforgiving society in which the highest ranked male was below the lowliest of their female counter parts. As progressive as it was barbaric. Everything about them screamed exotic to those who inhabit the surface. Their presence musing both limericks and rhymes focused on their beauty as well as their raw destructive capabilities. The only thing keeping the Drow back from ruling all other races was ironically enough their unbridled feuds Which know no sedation and have caried on since the dawn of their exile to the depths of the earth.

    Valerna's gaze would drift from that of the bard and the viper. Those potent amethyst pools of hers shimmering as they locked onto that of Avia. Though her people disliked most surface worlders, they tended to tolerate the race of man the most. Especially their woman, for they held a higher place in the natural order according to their social structure. Casually her eyes would narrow as the muscles along her luscious lips tugged, birthing a rare sight...a smile. Which seemed to adorn her already picturesque face quite nicely. It seemed that for the moment mitsusawa would find herself stumped and so she felt little need to flock around her. Parting from her presence enough to close the distance between herself and this other female.

    "Greetings, my name is Valerna Silvermoon. First born of the silver moon house and heir to all within her reach." Boldly she' give away her name. This struck Mitsusawa as odd seeing how previously she was reluctant to do so for her. Causing the viper to question a great deal. With a shake of the head the mutant would brush such idle thoughts aside. Focusing instead on the task at hand. "Are you ready?" She'd inquire into, direct as usual. Valerna simply shook her head, unable to fathom the reasons behind her needless haste. It wasn't like her little Chimera was going anywhere anytime soon. After all he had all the food he could desire.

    "I suppose if we must..." The drowess would retort. Permitting those hypnotic eyes of hers to avert from Avia momentary. But before long they would once more find their way toward her. Something about this woman intrigued her...perhaps it was her vocation? Or the artistic power which stirred within her? After all art was often any drowess true Aphrodite. "What of you? Will you accompany us?" Mitsusawa spoke in regards to the bard whom had offered her the flower. Unsure of the role she was to play in the coming events.