World Of Darkness

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by OnyxDominator, Jul 16, 2015.

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  1. [ A old woman in robes glistens in the moonlight as she speaks but you cannot see her face]

    " We are in dark times... where men are beasts and demons use humans as their playthings.
    Lord Valion, lord of death and spreading the darkness of hades itself across the lands and is growing
    ever more stronger.... the only ones who are able to stop him now are the chosen ones. Your strings of fate are unbound, therefore you have the freedom to chose your own fate... but watch what paths you take or darkness will consume you. You will meet many heroes like you, some alike, but different in their own special way... but be careful who you trust... no everyone is who they seem.......

    [Two heroes awaken in a deep cave not knowing how they got there.]
  2. Words that floated softly through his pounding head told a story,
    a story of a lord who would spread darkness and despair across the lands.
    A story about heroes and fate. Nothing of this meant anything to him.

    Garron groaned as he came to and rubbed his head.
    He was trying to get up.Which he couldn't manage.
    His eyes spread wide open and flickered in the darkness that surrounded him.
    The young man searched for the least bit of light.
    But only black and silence stretched out far, Garron had no idea how far.
    Where was he? How did he wound up here? Questions ran through his head and kept piling up.
    His pounding head witheld him from focussing. "Hello--?" Garron tried but didn't receive an answer.

    The sound of water trickling gave hope.
    But still the quietness made the young man feel distressed.
    Impatiently and consumed by panic Garron tried getting to his feet but failed miserably.

    • Love Love x 1
  3. Mali and Malcan
    Human Ranger and Half Orc Barbarian
    "Team Kickass"

    She was rather busy when she awoke. A handsome gentleman was taking Mali down a street to his gold house. She was already forming a plot to steal all his stuff when her eyes snapped open, greeted by a hello and hangover. "Five more -hic- minutes..." The ranger mumbled as she got up, clutching her forehead.

    A cave. Mali was in a cave. How the hell did she get in a cave? More importantly, was this a good cave or a bad cave? Judging from how dark it was it was probably a bad cave. Shit.

    All Mali remembered was her and Malcan getting extremely drunk and some weird lady chattering on about demons and death and heroes. Speaking of which where was that blockhead? "Malcan!" The woman called, still not noticing the person that was with her. Her voice was made sluggish from the ungodly amount of alcohol she had consumed. "Malllcaaan! Malcan you fucking -hic- clod where the -hic- hell are you?!"
  4. Screenshot_2015-07-11-20-22-39.png

    Octavia Gali Archinion was a pridefull elven women. She was powerful and dangerous, but what set her apart from other elven women is that she was gifted in the arts. Some would say she might even be a new breed of witch

    She stalked the trees, looking for a very specific jewel for a pendant she wanted to create. She was patient as she perched high in the tree. Royalty often took thus path and she knew she could find many valuable stones in there jewelry.

    She would wait.

  5. The vardo wagon clattered down the old road through the forest. It was a travelling home in the form of a painted wagon, a warm crimson colour accented in brass. It had several shuttered windows and at it's rear a warm rosewood door. It's thick springs, absorbing the bumps from dislodged rocks and roots squeaking without pattern, any echoes getting lost in the sea of trees. It was the home of one Assallya Kresssair, an elven sorceress who often traveled sometimes at the head of a mob of people she'd just taken advantage of. This time, however, she was merely travelling. A noble had requested her presence for some special event and was willing to spend a great deal of coin simply to have her dangle upon his arm. Of course, all she had to do now was get there.

    Azure eyes searching the forest ahead, Assallya sighed and adjusted her position upon the wagon's bench, ensuring the pillows were arranged perfectly. She was a beautiful woman, that much was certain, and she was not in disguise. Wearing the gossamyr silks of her homeland down in the southern deserts she sat back, toes tipped in ebony polish curling around the brass bar that served as a foot rest.

    Her grasp on the reins guiding the single horse was weak for she expected no trouble. This road was well patrolled by the King's men for many nobles traveled upon it. Night would fall soon and she would have to stop or risk her only horse. When that time came she planned on using the chicken that hung from the roof of the wagon and make herself a stew.
  6. Octavia Sat high amongst the treetops she was quite comfortable her crow resting, sleepily on her shoulder as the Sun begins to set. She had been there most of the day and hadn't gotten tired or fatigue at all.

    A smile crept across her lips as she heard the hooves of a horse pulling a wagon. As it crept close her smile widened. The outside was decorated in beautiful colors and patterns and she knew it's owner had money in one for or another.

    As it moved beneath her she could here in the horse panting it would need to rest soon. Aside from that the sun begun to set, streams of gold and pink dancing across the sky. It was impressive to watch. She would wait. Persue, and then come like a thief in the night to reap a hefty sum
  7. There was the sound of wood snapping as a path was noisily smashed through the forest. The canopy could be seen to shake as trees were bended to make way. What or whoever it was it was making its way to Assallya's wagon and approaching fast.
  8. Octavia picked up the scent of something below her. The sun had began to fall beneath the horizon, which made seeing a night more difficult.

    She had been following the wagon for a bit now and hoped what ever she smelled would soon pass through.

    She was a neat elf, she didn't want to look through destroyed wagons for het prize, and if at all possible she didn't want to kill unless it was nessesary.
  9. Completely oblivious to anyone following her the blonde haired elven woman hummed quietly as her horse meandered down the trail through the woods. She considered the terrain, keeping an eye out for signs of a stream, brook or other water source. She had a small barrel of water atop her wagon's roof that she could use but fresh water, and more importantly an abundant supply would be welcomed.

    That was when she heard the cracking of wood in the distance. She couldn't very well see anything, not through the thick folds of a forest. Not just cracking, she realized, but the crunching of branches, soil and who knew what else. Whatever it was sounded large to her sensitive tapered ears, ears honed in stately, political intrigue but she was no forest ranger. She could not hope to discern what was transpiring from mere sounds.

    "Hyah," Assallya said, clicking her tongue and urging the single horse pulling her wagon to move more quickly.

    The mare complied, assuming first a canter and then at further prompting a full run. The elven courtesan didn't yet press her horse into a full gallop. Endurance would likely be the determining factor here, not speed.
  10. The creaking and the shaking and the smashing eventually reached Assallya's wagon regardless of her rise in speed. Soon the whatever it was was upon her. A large, dark shape flew out of the woods and her horse was split in two.

    The murder weapon was a great ax that as it was swung upwards to kill the horse could be seen to have the words 'Goldyblocks' imprinted on it in gold. The murderer was a musclebound half orc with eyes covered by hair. He looked not with savagery but duty at the chopped corpse. He turned to the woman in the carriage.

    "Your welcome. Repay with help."
    He stated, looking briefly up at her chicken but shaking his head and looking back to her.
  11. With a bright, twisted smile Umbra watched as the poor hooved creature was split in two before it poured out a bloody mess acrossed the soil. 'What a sad waste it was,' she thought as a bout of dark laughter started to bubble up from inside her. She had been watching the strange elf girl that had been perched in HER favorite spot all day until that stupid wagon had rattled it's way past, and purely on a whim she decided to follow only to see a half orc almost charge down the rickety thing on wheels. Soon enough she couldn't help the giggles that broke past her pale lips as her black orbs landed on the expression of shock that painted itself on the female elf's face that was dressed in pretty silks.
    She quickly swung down from her perch and approached slowly as her pupils glowed faintly from the shadows. Curiosity drew her dangerously close as she gave a sharp toothed grin. Soon after the screech of nails dragging across metal called out her otherwise concealed presence to the gallery of strangers. "So heheh who wants to play a game with Umbra?"
  12. While she did know the beast was coming, the sudden appearance of the half orc took Assallya completely by surprise. It was the sheer ferocity she hadn't expected, nor the callous viciousness that had resulted in the loss of her horse. He was also much smaller than she had surmised. She had been expecting something the size of giant.

    She considered casting a spell of paralysis upon the orc but didn't relish doing anything with the monster so close. Then it spoke of doing her a good deed and she was suddenly quite confused. Was he a simpleton? Did he mean well? He could prove a powerful ally if she could forge a relationship with him. She was about to thank him when he looked over at the chicken, demanding- payment was it? Then he looked at her. He didn't want...? She surely hoped not.

    Doing her best to look unperturbed she was in the middle of replying, "How may-", when when was suddenly interrupted by another.

    Shying away from the eerie black orbs that floated on the wind and turned to face another, one that proclaimed herself "Umbra". A rather uninspiring name in Assallya's opinion given that was the name of the world of Shadows. She wouldn't be half surprised that the woman had control over darkness in some fashion. Still, there was a challenge in that woman's voice and Assallya wasn't fond of foolish fighting, especially for no net reward.

    "Well," Assallya said, recovering from all the interruptions, "I do think the two of you have a great deal to talk about.

    Keeping well clear of the dark orb she carefully snaked one ebony manicured hand down towards the light crossbow she kept for emergencies. She wasn't a great shot but then... mostly it was to make people think twice, not for actual killing.

    OOC: Also, no idea what Umbra looks like
  13. Umbra smiled wickedly as she started to step out into view more and thought through her bout of childish giggling, 'Maybe I'll finally make a friend.' Her sharp toothed grin only widening as she waited for the elf's reaction to her strange appearance. A first glance she appeared no older than fifteen years old, but the resemblance to normality ceased there. In the moonlight her face shone deathly pale along with whatever skin was exposed from under the tattered black clothes that hung on her frame like a rag. Snowy waves framed her face in a almost matted disarray which made the faint blue of her lips shine like a beacon. But the most fiendish of her features were the black orbs with glowing white pupils that were almost staring through the female elf's form, the two small horns curling into her hair from her forehead, and the two-inch metallic nails that protruded from her fingers and bare toes.

    Soon enough impatience was starting to fill Umbra's lithe frame as her dark orbs kept boring into the elf before shifting down towards where the girls hand was creeping to. The glint of metal caught her attention and not long after her grin turned into a snarl as she lunged forward to rip the weapon from the girl's hand. "Umbra was TRYING to play nice! Umbra wanted to try and be friends!"
  14. The half-orc stuck his ax into the carrige between Umbra and Assallya. "No crazy. Can still be friends." He stated like a authoritative father. He turned to the elf like she had done something despicable. "No shoot unless bad."

    The half-orc then gestured to himself saying, "Malcan." He then pointed at Assallya. "Magic?" He was looking for a mage, for his friend was stuck in a cave sealed with magic. He had drank twice his body weight in ale and woke up outside of the cave, it's annoying guardian telling him that his friend was inside.
  15. Assallya chose to leave the crossbow untouched between the bench and the wagon's wall. The reactions of the shadow wrapped feral girl and the orcish barbarian were enough, especially with head of an axe almost as large as her torso embedded in her bench.

    "Seriously," she complained quietly, looking at the small cloud of feathers floating in the air from the rent cushions, "wasn't the horse enough?"

    Looking at the orc making his hand gestures and using them to interpret his single word imperatives was difficult. As far as she could determine the orc wished help. He must have had some sort of spell upon him, something he rather surmised she could help with. Amazing, how he could discern she had such abilities given his limited intellect. She surely did not look the part.

    Looking at the shadow witch, Assallya considered if it would be okay to move. She rather suspected that the orc would not allow herself to be harmed, at least not until she had accomplished the goal he had in mind.

    "I shall need to fetch a tome or two," she said simply, acquiescing to his demands, "since my cart will not be going anywhere soon."

    That last was going to be problematic. She was going to have to summon a horse now, craft one from the ether. That wasn't something she was used to doing and she'd have to cast straight from the tome. That meant ritual and rituals took time; At the very least, half a candlemark.
  16. Umbra quickly jumped backwards before the axe could take off her hand, and once she landed in a crouch she hissed in frustration as her barbed tail flicked in annoyance. She cradled her hand protectively as her eerie gaze fixed itself back upon the female elf when the question of magic arose, "Umbra knows a little magic, but Malcan promise not to hurt Umbra first." She glanced toward the half-orc while sporting a slight pout in her expression before she cautiously drew closer to him when something in his scent caught her attention, "Is Malcan doing this for a girl?"
  17. Malcan nodded at the elf's words, very happy that she had agreed but too focused on focusing to express it. "Where tomes?" He asked, not knowing what tomes were but concluding that they had something to do with magic. Sounded that way at least.

    Malcan responded to Umbra's words by holding out his hand and saying, "no crazy no hurt. Deal?" He remembered how his friend did it and moved his hand back to spit in it. As he did so the scary lady somehow knew who he was doing what he was doing for. "Yes. Good friend."

    Malcan moved his hand back to shake the psychic woman's, now with a glob of sticky spittle. His grasp would be uncomfortably crushing if Umbra chose to take it. He didn't mean anything by it of course, his friend always did the talking.
  18. Umbra cocked her head slightly in confusion at the unfamiliar gesture before she took ahold of the half-orc's bare fingertips and looked up him questioningly. She wasn't familiar with the customs and gestures of civil society, for she had lived in the wilds most of her life span, and sadly in this moment her lack of knowledge had shone through. "Umbra doesn't understand Malcan's strange gesture, but Umbra won't hurt Malcan."
  19. [​IMG]

    The manacle jingled irritatingly with each step Larysia took. She'd taken to holding the three or four links hanging from it in her left hand, but the metal still rubbed on her wrist. She'd managed to get the other one off pretty easily--and thus escape the jail--but this one was stubborn and surprisingly solid, considering how rusty it was.

    The forest seemed empty, which was all right but Larysia would have liked to be able to sneak aboard a caravan or something instead of walking. It got tiring quickly. That and the possibility that someone from that village might catch up to her. Not likely; it was small and underequipped, hence the ancient shackles, but it was still a possibility. So here she was, following the road and hoping the next town would be less paranoid. She'd been arrested for witchcraft too many times already. Which, granted, she actually did practice, but it wasn't as if she was hexing people or cursing babies at their christenings. She was just a freelancer, she couldn't afford that kind of thing.

    Aha, there was the main road. Larysia sped up, pulling her skirts up a little. Prickers clung to the blue fabric in places. She hated wandering in the woods, especially in a long dress like this one. But this was the one she'd enchanted to resist rain, and at least shield her from the worst of any fire or attacks, so she kept wearing it. That and she didn't have any other clothes. She really needed to learn that "store a gown in a nutshell" trick fairies liked so much...

    Were those voices?
  20. [​IMG]

    Two girls, best friends since kindergarten, awoke in a dark cave. Nothing but darkness could be seen but they didn't need to worry. For the girls were part cat and had the same vision as one. Which meant they could see clearly in the darkness. Both found each other first then looked around. The smaller one which had short white hair with black cat ears, noticed the cave stretched farther one way than than the other and it became narrow. "Hey, I think I found the way out." She told the taller girl with long white hair and white cat ears. The taller one look down at the one who spoke and nodded. "Nice job." She said in reply before walking towards the entrance/exit.

    Once they exited, the taller girl, otherwise known as Selene, remembered the words of a old women that had spoken in her head.
    "Did you hear an old women's voice speak to you about hero's and the dark one?" She asked her best friend. The smaller cat girl, or Kaia as her name suggests, looked up at Selene. "Yeah. It was weird." She replied. The girls were now walking through a forest, walk in side by side. Kaia was looking around, grinning while Selene looked ahead, her expression blank.
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