The Temple of the Soul Thief

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Noctis the Devious, Aug 7, 2013.

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  1. OOC: The Temple of the Soul Thief

    Ryder stepped forward cautiously, weary of the figure who stood dead center of the chamber on a slightly raised, circular platform made from concrete. Iron shackles came up from the ivory-colored floor and were clamped around their wrists, pulled taut so not to allow even an inch of moment. The strange garb they wore was centuries old, tattered and torn. Twisted and demented. The deep purple fabric fluttered about as if it were underwater, and Ryder circled the figure as he analyzed them closely. Once he faced the figure, identified as female, he realized the she was blindfolded and her lips were parted slightly. Her shoulders moved with every even inhale and exhale; an indication she was clearly alive.

    Ryder was thoroughly confused.

    The redhead and his friends were investigating some kind of temple they had found under the cave they had taken refuge in from the rain when the young warlock had stumbled upon the small chamber. If not for part of the weathered ground giving out they wouldn't have discovered the man made tunnel the cave has been resting on all those years at all and certainly wouldn't have found the giant, circular entrance blocked by a door with a carving of a sun dominating the front of it at the end of the tunnel. It appeared to have been made of gold. It took only a small amount of magic from the small group to get the entrance to budge, and when they did, stale air greeted them as well as an intricate system of tunnels just waiting to be explored and plundered.

    The chamber walls were made up of carvings that depicted animals and god-like beings, none of which seem to be connected in any sort of way, and sconces were mixed in with the designs. The candles were already half burnt when Ryder lit them all with a single word, so maybe some kind of ritual took place? Was that why this figure was here? But why leave her alive? Could they not kill her? Was she immortal? She had to be, but what was she exactly? Even more baffling, there were no magical signatures and no seals or other superstitious trademarks present. What was keeping the woman here? Was it really the chains alone keeping her bound?

    Ryder crouched down in front a chain that linked the shackles to the floor and ran a finger along the iron. The figure flinched, startling the warlock. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to speak but no words came out. He frowned deeply and stood. It had do with the blindfold then for the chains were ordinary and left untampered. What an interesting find, but what should they do with her? Leave her down here?
    #1 Noctis the Devious, Aug 7, 2013
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2013
  2. [​IMG]
    Rumors abound of an order of hunters, kidnapped from birth by the specter riders and turned into abominations that defy the natural order in placed by the gods. These abductees taken in the night by swarthy bone ridden figures and their shadowed winged Pegasus's may seem like fiction to most. But sometimes the truth is far more terrifying then the legends. Their flesh forever warped by a vile black sacrament, forever marked by ill alchemy and baneful sorcery to become something more than human, a mutant.
    From a young age they are trained to harness their powers and superhuman reflexes and strength. Taught the long forgotten art of sword magic to vanquish the foes of those that abducted them. This organization lives for a single purpose, to remove the blight that dare challenge the world of men and mer alike. In exchange for their own profit and inflation of authority over both dominions.
    One such child, a woman whose flesh forever is branded now walks a lonely road. A road many before her dared to tread, and though the path never changes...We however do, by the choices we make during our journey...
    The pines creaked, as the wind howled between their gaps. Whistling as nearby foliage rustled under the influence of it's graceful stride. The moon hung mystically in the air, not obscured by a single cloud, the entirety of it's form exposed for all to see. Such nights, nights like these when she dared to tread down the roads, a sense of nefarious intent always hanged heavily in the stale night air. The orchestra of tree crickets that once weaved the illusion of peace found itself over powered, by the frigid howl of a pack of wolves.
    Their distant calls served as a reminder of the adversities that lied in wait for those foolish, or brave enough to venture beyond the safety of a towns walls during nightfall. With boots heavy with mud her legs desperately stretched forward, making her way toward the lair of witches. The locals had reported strange phenomena around the forgotten structure soon to be claimed by time. And though she believed they saw something, the onyx plated warrioress knew better than to trust the hearsay of strangers. For people say much, more times then often; it proves littered with bullshit.
    The sound of twigs snapping echoed about her, as the scarred woman's eyes calmly surveyed her surroundings. The loyal war hound at her side whining as it picked up the scent of a common lumbering sight. "Calm down, how long have we traveled together? Yet you still are frighten by the presence of a peaceful Troll. Do not worry, it is only watching us, to see if we bid it ill will my four legged friend." She whispered, her tattooed war hound looking up at her and panting, calming down as if it understood her every word.
    Dusk was right around the corner, it's pinkish light peeking over the distant horizon. As the dew had begun to kiss the wild blades of grass all around them. Luckily the wolves kept their distance that eve, and the Troll only a weary eye on them. For she was in no mood to waste her energy. For the closer they dawned on the structure, the more apparent it became to her third eye that something truly was amiss. Though what remained unseen.
    Finally they stood, facing their first real obstacle, the tightly secured mouth of the ruins. Vainly she squinted, trying to make out the weather worn marking on the door. Finding her efforts to no avail she sighed, pulling down some off the moss dangling from the ledge above the door, as her fingers traced around each inch of the door, seeking the handle.
    "Never a good sign when the door proves this difficult eh boy?" She whispered, the war hound planting it's rear on the ground, tilting it's head as a soft whimper parted from it's gaped mouth. It was at this time she finally found the mechanism, a handle supported by a rusted chain covered in a thick layer of moss. Gently she pulled down on the mechanism as the door had begun to creak open. It's gears rusted to the point that only a mechanical shrill greeted them at first.
    Sonja gave her four legged companion a reassuring nod as the two stepped through the threshold, and into the mouth of the ravenous unknown.
    #2 The Underdark Rises, Aug 11, 2013
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 11, 2013
  3. Callum Leary

    You really shouldn’t run off ahead like that Ryder!” Callum called out as he made his way out of the tunnel into the large chamber. “You could be dead six times over by--” he began before the words died in his throat. His emerald eyes glanced around the room as he let out an appreciative low whistle. He regarded the statuesque woman in the center with caution as he made his way further into the room, keeping a wide breadth from the captive and her chains. Ryder, on the other hand, seemed to hold no such reservations. “Careful with those chains Rye, you don’t know what we’re dealing with here yet.” Cal called out, keeping a watchful eye on his friend.

    Once Callum was certain his friend wasn’t about to burst into flames, he turned his attention to the chamber walls and the intricate designs found there. He knew none of the figures on the wall, though something about the shapes gnawed at his memory as if they were familiar to him. Cal rolled up his sleeves slowly, revealing the silvery outlines of runes once carved into his skin. His body was actually covered in them but usually only a few stray lines poked out from under his collar and the ends of his sleeves. He reached up and expertly traced a small light rune into the air. The light wasn’t very bright but provided much more definition than the fickle candle flames. “I don’t know, nothing here looks very familiar.” Cal said, running his fingers through his jet black hair with a huff. “Got any idea what is going on?” He asked, turning on his heel to walk over to the redhead.

    Up close, the woman was an imposing figured, though Cal imagined he could look much the same all bound and solitary like that. As a tailor’s son, he admired the rich purple cloth that the woman was covered in; though it was a old and worn he could picture what it must have looked like originally. “So...what? Sacrifice, religious figure, or prisoner?” He asked, bumping his shoulder into Ryder to make sure the redhead was paying attention to him. Callum continued to examine the woman, his eye seeking out any markings he could identify to help shed some light on this mystery. He had studied runes all his life and was thoroughly frustrated by their lack of presence. Personally, if he had to keep someone to a location, this room would have been carved floor to ceiling with runes of binding and restraint. Perhaps he would even throw in a few to warn or otherwise scare off intruders. Hell, that was the most baffling aspect of the whole thing. Why hadn’t they set off any traps yet? If you were going to go through all this trouble for one girl you’d think you’d ensure she stay this way.

    Cal took a few cautious steps closer to the woman, sniffing the air lightly to test for the smell of ozone he associated with a cast. Feeling suddenly brave, he carefully raised his hand and moved it towards the woman, his eyes locked on her face. He was just inches away from grasping a bit of cloth when a loud grinding sound echoed through the chamber, back the way they had come. Cal jumped back with a gasp, slapping his hand against his chest to feel the pounding of his heart. He glanced back at the tunnel and stared into the darkness with wide eyes. “The hell was that?
  4. _____Ryder dragged his eyes away from the figure and looked towards his friend who was ever so slowly inching his way into the room as if the woman would suddenly become unbound and attack. The whistle Callun let out upon his arrival echoed off the walls with nothing to absorb the sound waves and the woman flinched. "What? Am I suddenly a werewolf now?" Ryder teased, before remembering the fact that a werewolf's weakness is silver and not iron. He continued on in a rush so not to give his friend any time to catch his blunder, "Besides, didn't that old witch say I would live to be over a hundred?" Granted the old witch lost her marbles decades ago and normally went on about talking vegetables that drank blood, but who said she couldn't be lucid ever now and again?

    _____The young warlock turned and watch as Callum rolled up his sleeves and revealed the numerous runes that were tattooed on to his skin. He then carved a rune in the air and a dull light filled the chamber. "Show off," Ryder snickered. Unlike his rune-covered friend, Ryder's magic was based on the elements. He wasn't the strongest out there but he could still do some damage if he really wanted to. He let his own forest colored hues roamed the walls of the chamber and took in the carvings and their details. He had been so preoccupied with the bound woman that he barely even glanced at the decor. "Same here," Ryder murmured distracted. After all, this made as much sense to him as a jigsaw puzzle missing pieces and mixed in with another puzzle. He blinked when Callun nudged his shoulder to make him make him pay attention.couldn't be lucid ever now and again?

    _____"If you can't make heads or tails of it, what makes you think I could?" Ryder chuckled, bumping Callun back. It wasn't like he was some kind of famous tomb raider or something; he had very little knowledge when it came to hidden underground tombs or lairs or whatever this place was supposed to be. "The only thing I am entirely sure of though, is that this whole thing was the humans' doing." What else could explain the lack of magical bindings? He circled the woman once more and frowned. "I think... I think they were mocking her." To be on raised platform so she could look over everyone, but blindfolded and bound. To be in such a place but underground so no one can admire the architecture. The thought made his stomach churn. Humans were cruel beings and their fear of what they didn't understand made them dangerous.

    _____Ryder turned to his friend to see what he thought only to witness him reaching out towards the woman's blindfold. His eyes followed Callun's slow progress with anticipation. He wasn't sure what would happen when the blindfold was removed but unlike a human, that lack of information only succeeded in making him eager to find out. Would her eyes open? What color were they? Would she thank them? Would they be able to get the iron shackles off? Or would this turn sour and would instead be met with a creature with her eyes sewn shut or, worse yet, have no eyes at all? Would she mistaken them for human and turn into a vengeful spirit? He had to know!

    _____Before either of them could make the discovery of the century though, a mechanical whine rung eerily through the vacant tunnel system and made the hair on his arms stand on end. Ryder gulped nervously. "You don't think that could be the door... do you?" The redhead asked somewhat nervously. It had shut behind them with that same sound and somehow having another tourist visiting the underground temple didn't exactly sit well with him.
    #4 Noctis the Devious, Aug 12, 2013
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2013
  5. The dark damp ruins did little provide much comfort, the aged and decayed decor stood as the only remaining proof forever frozen in a sphere of time. A harrowing tale of a society once grand, ripped asunder. The likes of which could justifiably be liken to the a set of foot prints upon the shore, soon to be washed and contorted by the ever rising and shifting tides of time. Within the void of silence and shadows they waltzed, their stride cautious as eyes struggled to adjust to the lack of ambient light.

    As they pressed forward, Sonja and her loyal four legged companion relied on their other senses to navigate the labyrinth. The twisted and cramp corridors creating a sense of dread, birthed from claustrophobia. Fingers dared trace the wall as slowly once defiant iris became in tune to the darkness. "The air is heavy here, yet it is not the stale suffocating nature that alarms me. But the nefarious presence I feel squirming all around us."

    She whispered, more so for her own comfort rather then that for her war hound. Yet still somehow the tattooed beast standing almost four feet tall understood it's lonely friends message. A sense of bravado and courage over taking him as his nose guided them. With his aid the two would traverse the ruins, like a flying arrow they melted into the darkness. Once passing through beams of light that dared to shine through the cracks on the roof. The only reminder that outside remained the world of crisp cerulean skies they have come to love.

    It wouldn't take long, with a steady pace they found themselves over looking the baneful spectacle. With haste both beings instinctively assumed a low profile, taking cover behind whatever wreckage they could find. For the moment their presence remained undetected, their forms shielded by what was once proud columns of a forgotten world. The war hound, whom she had come to know as Auriando; a spirit beast from another plane that she stole from a foul wizard. Sensed the vile dark magic present in the room, his sense of uneasiness imparting on Sonja as her one eyed scanned the room.

    There at the heart of the events to unfold, at the epicenter of the phenomena she felt multiple presences. As if eyes hidden among the shadows, succumbing to the delusion of security peered down at her. Could it be that her approach had been noticed, if so could such entities be aligned toward this foul witches? Perish the thought! If such were the case, then why hasn't their descent into the belly of the beast been met with opposition if not obstacles? This observation, though uncertain provided the cherish perception of hope.

    Though she could not pinpoint the origins, she had to trust her instinct and gut. The two things that have saved her from the fray of battle countless times before.
  6. Callum Leary

    By the time the grinding stopped echoing through the tunnels, Callum was already tapping his foot restlessly. He had always been an anxious sort, always fidgeting or pacing even when there was nothing weighing on his mind. “I’m not sure it could be anything but,” Cal replied. His gaze was transfixed on the tunnels that they had entered through, his mind racing at the possibilities of what was coming to them. Had they awoken some sort of arcane construct meant to guard this place? No, that was unlikely. Ryder had been correct, this horrible place was surely of human creation and no magic was here to protect it. Whoever had originally fashioned this prison was surely long dead by now, but what of their descendants? Perhaps they still lived close by to keep an eye on their morbid inheritance.

    Callum glanced around the room, looking again for anything he had missed. A sign perhaps that this place was not as deserted as once thought or maybe a place they could hide. There were a few more tunnels branched off from the room they were in, still dark and sinister with their mysteries. Cal supposed they could run off, try to lose the intruder in the tunnels but he really disliked the idea of running blind through this place, some threat hot at their heels. And of course, there was still the girl to consider. Ryder’s words were still ringing in Cal’s ears; perhaps they had been mocking her. This woman was clearly a captive and humans were known for doing such awful things to their kind. Regardless of whatever their current threat was, he couldn’t stomach abandoning her. Even if there was a rather large chance she was some sort of horrible monster that would also try to kill them.

    Alright,” Callum began as he turned towards Ryder. “The way I see it, we have two options here. First, we could free this woman and hope for the best. I mean, even if she is some eldritch horror, perhaps her time in captivity will have weakened her, yeah?” He asked, a nervous smirk quirking the corner of his mouth. “Second, we find someplace to hide, perhaps down one of these tunnels until we know what it is we’re dealing with here.” Of course, Cal knew that staying and fighting was also an option, but that was a decidedly unfavorable idea. He had his short sword and his magic on his side but he considered knowledge of the enemy to be the greatest weapon; one he was desperately short of ammo on.
  7. _____Somehow having Callun clarify that it was in fact the sound of the door opening made Ryder that much more nervous. The only choice they had was running through the tunnels with no idea where they were headed, no clue as to what animals had chosen to take refuge within those ruins, and may even wind up lost trying to escape whatever it was that had wondered into the temple after them. "You know, maybe we're just over reacting," he suggested with a grin. "Yeah, maybe someone we know decided to follow us?" They should probably find out what is it that is in the temple with them before acting too brashly. The way he saw it, it wasn't not a win either way, so why not man up and face whatever danger presented itself?

    _____His friend's next words made him grin even wider. "Cool! I mean, it's not like we're completely defenseless,"Ryder pointed out. He didn't like the second option very much though. "And get lost? Callun, there's no telling how big these ruins are or where we're going to end up! Can you even be certain we'd find the entrance again? Or if this structure is stable? For all we know the floor could give out and we fall to our deaths!" He heard the woman shift slightly and turned his attention back on her. Well, might as well get the first part of Callun's oh so brilliant plan done and over with already. He reached his hand towards the blindfold and tugged the surprisingly thick material down around her neck. He frowned when he realized it wasn't enchanted in any sort of way either.

    _____He looked up when he felt a pair of eyes boring into him and jumped slightly when forest met crimson. The woman watched the warlocks through curious red eyes before glancing down at the iron shackles the bound her in place. "Here, let me-" Ryder was stopped both in mid step and in mid sentence by a stern gaze that clearly said she didn't want his help. The redhead quickly backed off. The woman looked back at the iron shackles for a long moment and Ryder began questioning her ability to escape. After all, if she could have done something about the shackles, why didn't she do it years ago? Once again, Ryder is sent reeling once the shackles that were once made of iron began crumbling into sand. Yet, still no magic signatures could be detected.

    _____"Much better," she hummed, rubbing her sore and irritated wrists. An accent under toned the words the woman spoke, but Ryder couldn't seem to place it. The woman stepped down from the platform she was kept on for decades with bare feet and looked around the room quizzically. "Where's that light coming from?" It was too bright to be emitting from the candles... She blinked when she saw some kind of symbol suspended above the ground and circled it as if it was the most intriguing thing she had ever saw. "Interesting..." she murmured to herself. She waved her hand over it and under it as if checking for some sort of source that kept the symbol floating like that.

    _____"You know, she seems kind of harmless to me," Ryder remarked so that only Callun could hear. It was then the woman caught sight of the condition her dress was in and she frowned deeply. How could something that was once so lovely end up like this? She wasn't going to have any of that! She touched the fabric and slowly but surely it began to restore itself. "What magic is that?" Ryder blurted out finally. That was twice the woman did something like that without his detecting any magic signatures!

    _____The brunet blinked at him, tilting her head a bit. "Magic?" she then shook her head. "No, molecular manipulation." Ryder's eyebrows furrowed when he realized that accent seemed to change every time she talked. How odd. The woman then spotted something, looking past the warlocks and at the door way. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You broke the salt!" she yelled, her voice borderline panicked.

    _____"The- the salt?" Ryder glanced back at the tunnel they had came from to see a line of salt in the threshold of the chamber. He then noticed that salt lined all of the entrances. How could he have missed that? Then again, they were barely there, scattered by whatever insects and whatever else found its way down into the underground tunnel system. "Why are there salt lines?" he asked the woman cautiously, getting a bad feeling.

    _____"I am not the only thing trapped down here," she replied solemnly. "The door opened twice but only shut once. Am I the only one to notice?" The candles flickered, drawing Ryder's attention to them, but the woman looked towards the entrance the warlocks used once more. She squinted her eyes. "Is someone there? Are you the person that brought unease to these boys?" The woman didn't really have a sixth sense but she could have sworn she spotted something taking cover behind that pile of rubble.
    #7 Noctis the Devious, Aug 14, 2013
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2013
  8. Few respected her kind, most viewed them as unholy abominations that defy Gods work. Children whose flesh had been warped by devil magic and unholy alchemy, a truth that birthed misconceptions. She could only imagine what those that dared breach the circle of salt would think of her, at least her presence remained unknown to them...Or so she had assumed.

    The simple cry from the center of the events struck her as odd, surely this youngin was ignorant, pairing her with some sort of beast. Then again her loyal Spirit hound might have been the root for the false deduction. A sly old grin now plastered itself on her olive tone face as she glanced at her four legged friend, amused with the notion. The sudden out of character reaction confusing the poor mutt as oppose to anything else. Sonja knew all too well that she couldn't avoid answering their call for long; less she give way for yet another false accusation or assumption.

    Without further delayed she rose, revealing her feminine form. As the four foot tattooed war hound stood by her side, panting as it curiously glanced around the room. Gently Sonja did pat his head, as she shook her head. Allowing a simple gesture to come first as oppose to mere words. "I am not." She simply replied, stepping but a few feet forward, just enough into the light to reveal her scarred face and shaved temples. A pony tail remained on top tightly secured, undoubtedly a different hair style and not in line with what was considered normally aesthetically appealing in these parts.

    "I have come as a sword and shield, I represent not my own will or desires, rather those that have requested my aid. The small village not too far from this aged structure." She paused, Sonja wished for them to digest the truth that spiced each syllable that parted from her full lips. "My name is of no import, for we do not live by it. I am number 27 of what most refer to as the house of serpents. To be more accurate I am the Fray." The term Maul was slang, used to described these warriors. Most of which were known for being female...

    Frigidly her single eye locked jumped from each of these strangers, observing and evaluating each one of them with callous precision. "I see none of you are the reason I am here....I bid you all farewell." She replied matter of fact like, jumping down from her perched position. Landing on the ground with grace as her war hound fumbled it's way down. Her giant sword clanking against her armor.

    Without delay the two pressed forward, passing them by as her lizard like eye expanded, bringing her to a halt. Slowly she stared at the one trapped in the salt circle. "Witch. Most would wish for me to gut you, but I see no point in killing something that is of no threat. Nor am I fond of staining my blade with innocent blood." Sonja saw the world differently, she could see the magical strings of this world dancing about the witch, forming a potent tapestry. "Now you have stimulated my curiosity. Why would you two be helping her? For that witch and I have one thing in common, we are monsters. Mutants if you will."

    Sonja found their display and actions toward the witch to be...enthralling if nothing else. Meanwhile the war hound stood by her side, whining as it tilted it's head, puzzled by the display. Almost as if it understood the emotions and words being conveyed.
  9. Callum Leary

    Right, well hurry up then,” Callum said with a roll of his eyes, he could have guessed his friend would be excited about unmasking the bound woman. Ryder had more of a sense of adventure than himself but measured dangers on a scale that Cal could never really comprehend. Even now, Cal watched as Ryder removed the blindfold without the faintest sign of hesitation. This wasn’t the first time that Cal was left to wonder if his friend was brave or just touched in the head.

    With held breath, Cal kept his eyes locked on the woman’s face, waiting for her reaction to finally being able to see. He carefully kept his hands still at his sides, close enough to reach his sword if needed but hopefully casual enough to avoid threatening the woman. It was almost an unnecessary precaution as he noticed her attention focused mainly on Ryder and the chains that bound her. Callum winced visibly as his friend strode forward to help her, already calling up dozens of runes in his mind to protect his friend if need be. Luckily, some sense had found it’s way into Ryder’s head and he backed down from the woman and her fierce gaze. Now that she wasn’t blindfolded, Callum was more intimidated than ever. She was clearly a strong willed woman and as Callum watched the chains turn to sand, he began to rethink their decision to free her.

    It was amazing how nonchalant the woman was, Cal had expected her to express some catharsis over her freedom. Instead, she was focused completely on his rudimentary light rune, a spell so simple children could do it. “Oh right, I’m sure those chains were just waiting to disintegrate like that,” Cal quipped, although he was inclined to agree. Whoever this woman was, she didn’t appear particularly dangerous or cruel, only curious. Hell, her first act of freedom was to repair her clothing; finally something Callum could relate to! A reluctant smirk began to quirk the corner of his mouth up as a sense of ease overcame him.

    Molecular manipulation?” Cal asked, his brow rising up in a question as he looked from the woman to Ryder. Callum wasn’t sure what the woman was talking about but he suspected he should be far more impressed with her than he currently was. His train of thought on the subject was brief however, as her sudden reprimand snapped him back to the present. As he glanced back, he noticed that there was indeed a broken line of salt in the doorway and a sinking feeling overcame him. Her next words confirmed his latest fear, this sprawling labyrinth wasn’t just built for her.

    But what else is down here?” Cal asked quietly, his gaze darting around to land on each entrance in turn. He never got the chance to hear the answer though, for her attention was distracted by some stranger in the doorway. This newcomer was arguably more ferocious looking than the woman they had just saved. Her hairstyle was strange for these parts and her weapons were almost as frightening as her war hound. Cal hung on every word the woman said, his mind racing at each new bit of information. “The House of Serpents?” Cal repeated numbly as images from books and scrolls pounded through his head like a stampede. Everything he had read about this group had either told him they did not exist or were written by madmen ranting of conspiracy. And yet, here she was before them and Callum hoped with all his might that her words of peace were true.

    Well,” Cal began in answer to her question, “I don’t know. Ryder and I know a bit of what it’s like to be persecuted and we couldn’t really just leave someone chained up like that. Could we?” He asked to no one in particular. His gaze drifted over to the curious woman they had freed and Cal was surprised to find that he was indeed happy that they had stopped to free her. Even if she had turned out to be some horrible creature that tried to kill them, he would rather be the kind of person who stops to help people rather than pass them by.
  10. _____The first thing that came to mind when Ryder saw the new comer was 'warrior'. She walked with clear discipline and bore scars that attested the many battles she had fought. Her hair and profile in general were odd and screamed foreigner, but it was her eyes that seemed to be her most striking feature. Her right had a queer coloration to the iris while her left eye appeared to be no longer fully functioning; a dark film covering it. At her side was some sort of hound that had been tattooed. He wasn't sure whether it was part of their culture or just to make the canine seem more fierce though, as he gave off an air of harmlessness. When the woman examined them, he felt himself stand that much straighter with his chin help high like the proud warlock he was. What she said didn't really surprise him. Never did Ryder take fairy tales with a grain of salt.

    _____The woman strode into the room after coming down from the pile rubble with the grace of a feline and addressed them before turning to the woman they had recently freed, who ruffled under the warrior's words. Now taking on a different demeanor entirely, she stormed up to the one introduced at Twenty-seven, speaking all the while. "See here Fray, I've been called the Grim Reaper, Angel of Death, imp, demon, trickster, and even been worshiped as a god! But never, in all of my years, have I been called something so- so demeaning!" She huffed and stood toe-to-toe with the warrior. Next to Twenty-seven, she looked no more fierce than a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. She stood a whole head shorter than the woman and had to tilt her head back to glare up into her eyes that might have even been stranger than her own red hues.

    _____Ryder didn't even get a chance to even linger on Twenty-seven's question as the woman plowed forward with her rant. "Witch, monster, mutant- That's three times you insulted me! You don't even know me. How can you make such quick accusations about me? Is it because my eyes are discolored? Mein Gott!" Ryder quirked an eyebrow when the woman started speaking in German. "My kind isn't exactly well known for having the most normal of eye colors, but what we are well known for is our excellent eye sight. While you need light I can see perfectly fine in this temple. While you see... what is that anyway?" She asked suddenly, squinting her eyes. "Strange line thingies, I can see your soul! So ha!" The woman grinned proudly and took on a posture fit for a snobby princess.

    _____Ryder blinked and glanced at Callun. "Hey, what do you suppose souls look like? Are they all round and glow-y as people say they are?" He didn't really know why he was asking Callun. Maybe it was because the woman seemed all worked up enough and didn't want to offend her even more than she already was without really meaning to.

    _____The woman then turned quite abruptly towards the tunnel Twenty-seven was about to venture down and stared into the sinister darkness. Figuring she was probably searching for something, Ryder raised a hand to his mouth to mutter a verse. Most warlocks and witches have quirks when casting spells, and raising a hand to his mouth just happened to be Ryder's quirk. Before he could say anything though, the woman took off down the tunnel at full speed.
    "Ya Mien Sa'shen," Ryder chanted. The torches along the walls lit two at a time, yet the woman was staying a head of them. When they got to an intersection, the torches stop lighting but the woman kept moving forward.

    _____"What's she chasing?" the redhead wondered out loud.
    #10 Noctis the Devious, Aug 17, 2013
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2013
  11. Sonja just stared straight through the brat as she spoke, Her whining was nearly as unpleasant of a sound as the grinding gears of the ruins doors. The once foul odor of molded moisture had been replaced by an all too familiar stench, arrogance. The war hound began to growl bearing it's teeth and barking as it's once harmless visage morphed. Being replaced with that of a feral killer, one who kills just for sport. With a simple wave of her slender wrist, the mutt quickly put aside it's vicious display, assuming it's once peaceful facade.

    "Call yourself what you will, your title means little to me little girl. In the end, no matter the name you wish to go by, you'll turn to dust nonetheless. " Her words frigid like ice, her remaining eye though not staring at the girl, still emitted a callous look. Almost as if she were an inanimate golem, as oppose to an organic being. "If you wish to kill me then do it, otherwise shut your mouth. My quarrel is not with you child." She spoke matter of fact like, as if to close the debate with little wiggling room. Unless of course the female desired to be portrayed as a fool.

    This was not the first time number twenty-seven had to deal with a being suffer from an overly inflated sense of worth and position. In fact it made her marvel, how one so easily chain could spew out such enlarged claims of prowess. Some salt, and some rusted metal was all it took to subdue her like a slave. The irony birthed a grin, as her oddly colored iris drifted from the black void, toward the one known as Cal. "I see, it is none of my business. I will not pry into your past. But in life, if those oppressed and persecuted wish to be equals, they need only fight. Fight for it and snatch it for themselves." Her words though true, would most likely hit Cal in the face like a brick. She felt little need to press the issue further, instead focused on the now blazing torches, whose orangish glow pierced the veil of darkness with ease. "A soul looks like nothing of import. Sometimes the most valuable of things, appear the blandest."

    The erupting cones did little to sway their resolve, calmly they halted without being phased. Standing in the heart of the wild torches she turned and faced the group. "Leave now if you value your life, follow me, or stay to die. Either way it is of little import to me, it's funny you know. How the slightest cut in the right location can cause you to bleed out. How a fractured bone can leave you paralyzed for life. If you do not stop this foolish attempt to impress or intimidate me...I will gladly show you new ways the ghost can escape your bodies. Shouldn't you be investing your time elsewhere young girl? Like fleeing from this prison?" Sonja had little time for a dick measuring contest with the once chained woman. This much became apparent through the rigid display her body language portrayed.
    #11 The Underdark Rises, Aug 17, 2013
    Last edited by a moderator: Aug 30, 2013
  12. Callum Leary

    Perhaps the surest way to get Callum to do something, was to imply that he could not. As far back as childhood, proving others wrong had been the single greatest driving force behind everything he had accomplished. Though, of course, it was also the greatest driving force behind everything he had failed as well. Cal had quite a few scars, both physical and mental, from not heeding the advice of people who really had only the best interest in pointing out his limitations. And while Cal had his far share of regrets, he did not turn from the impoverished son of a tailor to a powerful Rune Caster by following caution.

    With that in mind, Callum found his feet moving faster than his mind as he tore towards the now illuminated tunnel entrance. “You’re awfully cheery, anyone ever tell you that Sunshine?” Cal asked with a sly wink and brazen smile as he passed Sonja by. That little voice in the back of his mind, the one he never paid attention to, told him that perhaps it was unwise to tease a Serpent. Cal had heard the rumors and studied the stories but even now, with proof before his eyes, he doubted their absolute truth. He was sure that ‘Sunshine’ was indeed a mighty warrior but he knew, perhaps more than most, that legends were always far grander than the source material.

    The tunnel was growing dimmer as they pushed past the ambient light of the main chamber and Callum turned his mind from the Serpent at his heel. Instead, he turned his attention to the girl who was plunging further into the darkness ahead as if they were hurrying along a brightly lit meadow. He could easily catch up to her, the runes for swiftness carved into his legs tingling for release but he would not leave his friend behind. He ran alongside Ryder instead, keeping one hand on the hilt of his short sword so it would not bump into his friend as they ran. “Who knows? We’re chasing a tiny German with magic eyes as a legendary assassin follows at our heels. At this point I’d be willing to believe she’s chasing fairy chickens.” Cal said, huffing out a shallow laugh.

    Callum looked ahead at the wall of darkness encroaching upon them as the torches stopped lighting. He glanced to his side at Ryder’s flaming hair and grinned as an idea struck him. He called up minor runes of light and clarity in his mind and bound them under three Master Runes. He reached his hand out and ran it through Ryder’s hair, weaving each of the master runes in with the fiery strands as if he was creating a tapestry. When he removed his hand, Ryder’s head was radiating light in all directions and lighting their path before them. He coughed out a laugh, grinning from ear to ear as he continued to run. “I've always said you were the brightest of all my friends Rye!
  13. _____Adora was paying very little attention to the fact that was being followed, barely hearing what number twenty-seven was telling her. Her mind did, however, latch on to something the warrior had said. "This temple was my home long before it was my prison. You will do best to remember that," she called back solemnly. God forbid if they go breaking something or mess up her temple much more than it already was. She sighed inwardly. At this point it would be near impossible to restore everything to its previous glory. She swiped up a piece of rubble and messed with its structure until a raw blade took form. She had spent the majority of her captivity chained up by iron, it only made sense that iron was the metal she was most familiar with and as such, was the very thing making up her crude blade. She didn't bother to stop and create a hilt so the part the would normally be covered was digging into the palm of her hand. No matter, she was used to using her body as a weapon. Rather, she used to used to using her body as a weapon. Captivity weakened her and lowered her tolerance to pain considerably but that's nothing she couldn't fix.

    _____"Besides," a grin twisted her lips in the most predatory way, her eyes shining with the eagerness of a starved man awaiting nourishment, "This placed had come to be an excellent feeding grounds." As if on cue, an animal, a demented abomination appearing to be some sort of cross between a hound from hell and an ugly green goblin, jumped from the shadows, snarling and baring its teeth. On sheer instinct, the arm hold the small blade lashed out and the creature caught it between its teeth. Adora braced the arm with her free and she held her ground. The creature bit and shook its head violently, but the blade remained lodged. She pressed her lips together in deep concentrated and the left over molecules from the piece of rubble, compacted into the blade upon creation, was forced to the surface. Long, iron thorns extended outwards and the mutt gave a whimper-ish sound caught between a whine of a dog and the snarl of a goblin, the thorns piercing the flesh of its mouth and shallowly digging into the floor of it's cranium.

    _____The creature retaliated and lashed out with its front paws seeing as it was forced to stand, and claws raked against her shoulders. Her skin, a nice caramel color once upon a time, split open, and she grimaced. Letting out a growl of her own, Adora roughly pushed the canine onto its side with great effort and jabbed her knee into its stomach to help keep it still. It struggled violently at first, but one look into Adora's eyes had the canine paralyzed. The brunet leaned forward and the eyes of her victim started glowing. A strange, smoky substance emitted from the orbs and Adora adsorbed it, drinking it in like is was the finest of wines. The canine fell limp and the Soul Thief pulled away, licking her lips and leaving the knife still lodged into its mouth. The hallways and passages were crawling with those things. Before everything went to hell, they were the guardians of the temple along with Adora, but that time had long passed. Their captivity and new roommates morphed them into beats not even Adora herself could recognize anymore. It was sad really.

    _____At least its soul was enough to heal herself, the gashes she had received from both the blade and the hound were gone and her skin even had some color restored to it.

    _____Meanwhile, Ryder yelped in surprise as Callum's hands were suddenly in his hair. The disoriented spikes now even more unkempt from the newest mistreatment. "Callum!" he whined childishly, swiping at his hair in a futile attempt to make it stop glowing like it was. "And here I thought you were meaning towards my wits," the redhead snickered as they ran. His dark green eyes nearly bugged out of his skull when they approached Adora and a mutated dog thing. The weapon in its mouth looked really painful and quite random seeing as he ever saw any weapon on the woman to begin with. "Yeah, I'm never coming you for dental work," Ryder remarked wearily, earning him a quizzical look from Adora.

    _____"What is wrong with your hair? It was normal when I last saw you," the brunet inquire with a tilt of her head. Her accent had changed again, sounding British. Before the young warlock could reply, something else caught her attention. It was another chamber, much like her own, waiting at the end of the corridor. A rhythmic draft came from the dark room and Adora began to approach it. Ryder swallowed. The room gave off a really eerie feeling and every instinct Ryder had was telling him to high tail it in the opposite direction. But he couldn't look cowardly in front of a legendary warrior! No way! With his pride being the only thing pushing him forward, he lit the way with his headlamp and trailed after the woman who showed now fear towards the room whatsoever. What he saw made him jump out of his skin.

    _____The room was gigantic! Several times larger than the chamber that had left, and chained to the wall so it faced the entranced to the room was a large, statue like being. It had a head of some dragon-like creature and had the appearance of a old Chinese statue. It sat on all fours, forced to his knees by thick chains. Each link was as wide as Ryder's arms were long and looked like they weighed a ton! It was hard to judge exactly how tall it was but even in it's resting position it stood at least two stories. The monster's interest was on the new comers and all Ryder wanted to do was run. "What is that thing?!" he demanded, voice echoing off the walls and causing the monster to shake his head and bellow. The sounds alone was enough to shake the walls and rain dust down on them.

    _____"Humans referred to him as Drkesthai. Though, I do believe that word eventually evolved into 'dragon'," Adora explained, a sad look in her eyes. "He was one of the most gentle creatures I ever had the pleasure to meet and the only other being held captive here who is older than I. But... now he's corrupted."

    _____"Corrupted by what?" the redhead questioned out of both curiosity and fear. Adora merely turned and lead the way out of the room. It was obvious she wanted them to follow so Ryder did. They barely took a few steps before they were standing at the beginning of a descending stair case. It was heavily shadowed in a way that not even Callun's runes relieved it of it's darkness. Ryder's eyebrows furrowed and, thinking the spell must be wearing off, lifted a hand to his mouth; however, Adora stopped him from muttering the same verse he had used to light the torches.

    _____"Do not waste your energy for that is not darkness down there, but nothingness." The red-eyed woman's body was tensed, her fists balled tightly. "Three additional levels are below us and on the very last level something was placed. At first I was unaware of the corruption it was spreading. The advancement of it was slow and barely noticeable. It was when it had flooded the second level and was making its way onto the this level did I notice it." Adora placed a hand on the wall that separated the Drkesthai's chamber from the hall. "Being so closed to it..." Her voice trailed off, remember the bellows that had started up so suddenly a while ago, lasted for God knows how long, and ended abruptly. She couldn't do anything about it while her dear friend suffered in her own home...
    #13 Noctis the Devious, Sep 20, 2013
    Last edited: Dec 4, 2013
  14. In silence she watched and waited as the others joined her, her brows furling up as the young one commented on her rather chippy mood. Her kind were known for many things, and by many names; however being sociable was never one. A heavy sigh parted from her lips as the muscles along them tugged birthing a subtle smirk as she pivoted down to face the long corridor. "Despite what you may claim or think little girl; You're not the evil I have been gathered to slain. In fact what I sense deep within the womb of your humble abode far over towers anything you could conjure." She replied matter of fact like, as she made her way down the damp and shadowed passage.

    Little progress was made however before a demented and twisted being crept into their line of sight. Calmly Sonja listened as the once chained entity spewed forth her tale on what sort of creature this one was. But in Sonja's heart stirred not anger, nor disgust. Rather an emotion that stood in defiance in contrast to her normal demeanor. For what she felt stirring inside her, tugging at the strings of her shriveled blacken heart was pity. Staring at the twisted visage of the creature brought a harrowing reminder of the fate that awaited both her and her sisters. A fate she had sense woven on the tapestry of her memories twice before, though usually their size was far more grandeur and their power greater.

    "Could this all be linked to the destruction of Illstard?" Sonja questioned out loud, audible enough for all to hear. The corruption that claimed such a city was far more advanced than this, but perhaps this was but the seeds being sown? Either way at the moment all she could do was assume, even if such assumption wrought with them startling epiphanies or a sense of dread. Calmly the one eyed beauty turned to face the once chained child, who undoubtedly didn't fancy her. "I would rather not kill this creature without cause, is it inherently aggressive?" Her compassion toward the monster would strike most ad queer considering her once frigid approach and choice of words.
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