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Post by Tom Bombadil on Jul 14, 2008 16:20:53 GMT
OOC: Oh! Sorry, I didn't notice the lower half of your post, Illusionary.
BIC:
Yakel was a little startled by the sudden appearance of the Altmer. But after that he felt a curious...power, around him like a haze. It was the power that he had felt and had been drawn here by.
"Er- thank you sir, thank you!" He shortly bowed twice and spoke simultaneously, stepping into the manor. He stopped as soon as he was inside the door; one of the things Dorien had spoken stuck out to him.
"Thank you again, sir. My name is Yakel, I have a shop in the Market District. Forgive me for asking, sir, but...what did you mean by, 'much to talk about'?" He asked with a hint of eager curiosity. He wouldn't dare think...does this Dorien fellow know why I...?
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 15, 2008 10:36:44 GMT
Lex was watching him speak, golden eyes alight and glittering in the candlelight, enjoying listening to him telling his story, enjoying for once hearing about someone from their own lips, rather than what she could glean with her powers.
When he asked her about her past, she blinked in surprise- an unguarded reaction displaying excactly how she felt. "Well..." she said uncertainly. She'd never been really asked about herself before, and it put her off-balance. She was used to people only being interested in themselves, and what she could do for them.
"I was born a noble," she said at length, her expression solemn. "Or at least, I should have been. I was born out of wedlock when my mother was sixteen. I don't know who my father was."
"My mother, she was sent to the temple in shame. She became a holy woman- or she thought she was." Lex's expression was bitter. "That's not how the Gods want people to live. Always condemning, always looking for ways to be 'holier than thou'. It disgusted me."
"That's why I'm named as I was- Alessia of House Dierre. The hope was that a Saintly name might free my soul from the burdens of sin I was born into." She shook her head, clearly upset. "Nobody can be born into sin, right? It's ridiculous."
"But my mother never really loved me. All we had to do with each other was in terms of her trying to make me into a holier, humbler, less significant person. She said I was a worm in the eyes of the Gods, and that's all I could hope for."
"I didn't want to believe it. When I was really young, I ran away, became a thief. I'd always mixed with the 'sinners' of the city, and it just seemed to make sense that I make a life with them. So I became Lex Bright-Eyes, a damn good rogue. And I don't think the Gods judge me for it, so I won't let anyone else do it."
She lifted her eyes to Phorease's, her expression defiant and blazing, daring him to mock her for her birth, for falling so far from nobility, for being a thief.
-----------------------
Dorien laughed. "You have powers, don't you? Let's start there. There are precious few of us, although for some reason we all end up in the Imperial City some day. Please, come in." He stood aside and gestured for him to enter.
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 15, 2008 17:06:05 GMT
The newly purchased black cloak was warm around him, as Wilfric stood in the shadows of the Waterfront's hovels, blending in with the Shadows well. Though it wasn't really necessary to hide his presence here, it helped give himself the atmosphere that he wanted, as he wanted the beggars around him to think that he was a member of the Thieves Guild, which required finesse, an aura of rougishness, and most of all, a cunning mind. Each of these Wilfric had regardless of what he was doing, as what was a noble really but a thief of money in large scale? He didn't break into people's houses to get it, he got them to give it to him willingly, but for his own interests.
That thought caused a small smile to tug at the corner of his lips, as he watched the throng of the poor, the starving, and the dirty as they milled about. Which one would give him a good amount of information on the Councilmen's servants? Which one would give him the link to them that he needed, to either confront them or learn their dark secrets outright...? Which one of them could be of use to him?
His smile widened slightly as a dingy beggar came stumbling close to where Wilfric was standing, though Wilfric had SMELLED him coming long before he actually reached him. "Hey, you." Wilfric called to the beggar, reaching into his cloak and removing several gleaming gold coins. "Information for coin, my friend." Wilfric said bluntly, his smile warming to look more approachable to the man. The hook was baited, all he needed to do was see if the beggar was interested.
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Post by Tom Bombadil on Jul 15, 2008 19:16:39 GMT
For a moment Yakel thought he had heard wrong. He...he knows about this? I need to see this through for myself! "Wh- e-yes, thank you," he said as he entered the manor. "You said 'us'. Do you mean...you also...?" He was still wary of sounding like a fool, but there was little to be done about it at this time.
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Casca gave a salute/wave to the guards he passed as he entered the gate to the Imperial City. And the last time I will do so for some time, I believe. He had only one thing left to do before setting the events in motion that his lord had tasked him with. With the same resolute haste, he moved down the streets of the Market District to the Best Defense.
"Ah, good that you've come, your order is ready," said the Imperial behind the counter as Casca entered. He smiled widely at the armorer's words. "Excellent! May I see it?" "Hm? Oh! Right, here you are." The Imperial disappeared to the left of the counter behind a wall and reappeared a second later carrying a stack of leather. Casca accepted it from the man, examining it briefly. The quality of the leather really didn't matter to him, but he wanted to look like he was interested in the merchandise he had just purchased as not to insult the armorer. "I trust in your work, good sir, and I thank you. Now if you will excuse me, I have someone to meet." Without giving the armorer a chance to respond, Casca turned on his heels and left the smithy, leather armor in his arms.
Casca had no time to bother going back to his room at the Inn. He slipped into an alley behind the Fighting Chance and quickly began to equip himself with the leather armor. It fit well enough, and it looked very plain. This was exactly what was needed.
With a sigh, he picked up the cloak that he had set on the ground while putting on his armor. Taking it by the hood, he tore the hood from the cloak with a ripping sound that sickened him. It was a nice cloak while it lasted, at least...
Putting the hood over his head, he took his bag of goods in his hands and hurried off to yet another location, at this point not hesitating to jog, now that his appearance was altered.
***
The Market District, as everyone knew well, was renowned for being littered with beggars and the sick or homeless. Sadly, the causes behind these people becoming beggars, sick, or homeless were not always misfortune.
Such a case was that of a young Dunmer by the name of Elherlas Rethori. Elherlas had once been the oldest son in a upper class family from Skingrad, and now, due to a long series of events that will not be discussed at this time, sat huddled in a corner of the Market District of the Imperial City, eyes bloodshot and bones shaking. The mer sat there staring at a brick in front of him thoughtlessly until the sound of footsteps fell on his ears.
Elherlas twitched and looked about him wildly, expecting a guard to come scolding him. Instead, a man clad in brown leather and a black hood stood before him, reaching into a bag. Elherlas was about to speak to this man when he suddenly lost all rational words, staring slack-jawed at what the man had drawn from the bag. "See this?" said Casca, holding a little bottle of skooma between two fingers in front of him. "I'm going to give this to you." The Dunmer made an excited noise and shot his hands up to grasp the narcotic. To his dismay, Casca drew it away from him. "But first," he said, bringing the skooma close again, "you need to do a favor for me." A wild look was beginning to form in the Dunmer's eyes. "You see those guards standing by the gates?" He continued, pointing in the direction of the gate leading from the Market District to the outside of the City. "I need you to get them away from the gate. Attacking them would be a good way to do this, like a hit-and-run thing. Got it? After you do this, lose the guards, and come back here - RIGHT here. This will be waiting for you," he held up the skoom again.
The Dunmer nodded eagerly like a crazed dog. He wasn't even thinking anymore. He just lept from his corner and ran off in the direction Casca directed him to.
Casca, after setting the skooma on the ground as promised, smiled as he watched the mer go. Hopefully, if he does succeed in averting the guards, they'll kill him for attacking. That way I won't have to worry about him later...addicts' words are easily pried.
After waiting about a minute, he started off to see if the Dunmer had succeeded. He turned the corner just in time to see the event unfolding: a guard was rubbing his nose, doubled over, while the other guard (soon after followed by the assaulted one) drew his sword and gave chase to the fleeing Dunmer, who took off down an alley to the right.
Even Casca was surprised by how easily that had worked. Wasting no time, he jogged up to the gate, drawing one of the scrolls from his bag. He unrolled it and held it out to the metal bar that braced the gates, right in front of where they met. He spoke a word in Daedric, and the scroll lit up, white-hot fire erupting from the middle if it in a stream, flowing toward the metal.
A second passed, and the metal began to turn red. Slowly, the bars began to weld together. Casca bit his lip as he worked, concentrating on welding the metal bars together.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Jul 15, 2008 23:15:15 GMT
OOC: Let me know if this is alright, Bombadil.
IC: "Stop!" came a coarse, angry shout, snapping Vic from her thoughts and back into reality. "Stop, in the name of the Imperial Legion!" Quickly, the young woman jumped up from her seat on the ground, and made a quick sprint towards the source of the commotion; after everything she'd seen that day, maybe getting back into some action would help clear her mind.
When she finally neared the source of the shouting, however, all she found was a Dunmer man, pinned to the ground by a Legionnaire, with another one, rubbing a bloodied nose, standing over both of them. "Assaulting a member of the City Watch is serious business, punk," the Legionnaire growled, bringing his face close to the Dunmer's. "You know how long we're gonna lock you up for this?"
"You don't understand!" the Dunmer squealed, his arm being strained by the angry guard. "It wasn't my idea! Some Imperial told me to do it!" He gave a pained yelp as his arm was bent further back. "He said he wanted me to get the guards away from the gate!"
Vic's eyes lit up at the Dunmer's words; somebody wanted the guards away from one of the city gates!? She rushed towards the scene, and knelt down next to the Dunmer and Legionnaire. "Where!?" she cried out desperately. "Where did he ask you to do this!?"
"The Market District!" the Dunmer cried out miserably, shaking his head. But before either Legionnaire was able to question Vic, and what she was doing, she was already in a dead run for the Market District.
_______________________
Vic pushed violently past the people who blocked her way to the Market District gate, desperate to get there before it was too late.
Do not fail, Victoria. So much depends on you...
The voice in her mind had just finished when she ran up to the gate leading out of the Market District, a man standing before it, hands before him as the bars blocking the gate glowed a hot red, morphing together. Recognizing the man as one of the many presences she'd felt throughout the city, she narrowed her eyes as she grabbed for her halberd.
"Hey, stop!" she shouted at the Imperial, readying her weapon before her. "I said stop!"
TAG: Bombadil[/u]
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Post by Tom Bombadil on Jul 16, 2008 2:27:45 GMT
Casca's heart stopped for half a second. The startle broke his concentration; the flame died out. He swore in his mind: the welding was not nearly as strong as he would have liked it. At the same time he felt a familiar spark of energy from the speaker.
A Chosen. Trying to stop me? His lip began to curl, but he quickly wiped that expression from his face entirely.
He whirled around on his heels to face the speaker. "Wh- oh." He stopped mid-word at the sight of the halberd being pointed at him. He maintained a perfectly calm and polite expression as he gently put his hand on the side of the blade and moved the tip to the side, away from his face. "Come now, let's be civilized, shall we?"
He lowered his hands and folded them behind his back, smiling patiently and warmly. His words, as always, were calm and polite as though he was a lawyer speaking with his client. "Now then, is there a problem?"
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 16, 2008 20:30:20 GMT
OOC:
Currently:
Shades still have the Upper Hand. If Victoria banishes Casca, the two sides will begin to even out. If Casca wins, the Shades will have a significant advantage in the end battle.
IC:
Dorien nodded. "I too, have unique powers. Those with unusual abilities: one passive, one active, and one animal- are known as Chosen." Dorien paused for a moment, then said, "I would demonstrate mine to you, but one hurts me and the other everyone else. And if I turned into a rabbit (no matter how amazing that rabbit might be) I would find communication difficult. Thus, I ask that we have a chat."
He went into the sitting room, choosing a sofa and sitting down, fixing his calm grey eyes on Yakel. He could not help but let the hope seep into them. They could desperately use another Light. If this man chose to aid them, it could well mean the difference between life and death to Tamriel.
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Post by FC4 on Jul 17, 2008 1:47:49 GMT
Phorease met that defiant gaze with one of empathetic pity. He remembered the jeers of his colleagues as he tried to learn Conjuration and failed constantly. While it was nothing compared to the ridicule she had faced, it was but a taste. And taking that taste and magnifying it did not please Phorease's insides.
Her gaze seemed daring, challenging, and for a moment he considered not giving her a comforting gesture. She might not take to it. She might not appreciate the touch of your tattoos. She may squirm from any sort of touch from you.
Yeah... I suppose so. Phorease sighed, setting his hand on the table in front of him instead, the sleeve moving back to reveal the cobra head on the back of his hand. The ink glittered in the light of the inn. The eyes seemed to analyze Lex. Phorease leaned forward, giving her his own defiant gaze.
"You felt sin was all you were born for. What other path would you possibly consider taking? I thought Conjuration to be the only path for me. We all have our regrets, but in the end we are what we have made ourselves to be and we must live with it." Phorease's face became solemn.
"I can understand your hesitancy in telling your story; it is not one I would have wished to hear, had I known about it. I don't enjoy those particular evils of this society, and it is a terrible thing you were subjected to them." Phorease's mouth curled into a small smile. "You would have made a lovely noble. But you chose the path of the rogue instead. I would have made a wonderful farmer, but I chose to be a magician. In the end, it is you who judge yourself, and you who make yourself. The Gods only use you as playthings." He said the final piece with a hint of bitterness, but his polite demeanor still remained.
In his mind, he could imagine Lex decked in noble garments, and it was an image he rather enjoyed in his mind. But when he looked at Lex as she was now... he found something different, that was equally interesting. Maybe it was that she was so wild and so unlike noble etiquette and prudence, so different from those he hung around.
His thoughts were interrupted by a low rumble, and the Conjurer found himself rubbing his stomach before smirking embarrassingly at Lex. "I suppose we go to the counter for a meal here?" -------------------------- The beggar looked at the man for a moment, and then at the gold. The man had presented the currency, and asked for information. The dingy hobo grinned, revealing disjointed and blackened teeth, before reaching for the bag.
Obviously, this man was a new member of the Guild, or someone just outside the Guild who had contact with them. Only such a person would know of the Beggar's merchandise, and how to buy it. And the new recruits always came to the beggars in the most sloppy of fashions.
"Won' git mucha fer tis mucha coyin." The man muttered through his black and broken teeth, feeling the ten gold coins. "Depent on wha ya wanna know, mite needa more coyin."
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 17, 2008 1:58:46 GMT
Wilfric laughed softly as the man muttered that he may need more coin, before producing a second, bigger bag. "Well, if you give me the answers I seek, there are four times that amount in this bag." Wilfric promised. "As well as a bit of food for that belly of yours." He lowered the bag back beneath his cloak, so that the man couldn't get to it unless he offered the answers that Wilfric sought. "The information I need is quite valuable. You see, I am planning a heist that is a bit... grand, on the scale. Of the Councilmen, as a matter of fact." Wilfric whispered, keeping his voice low so that the others that passed them by could not hear.
"In order to gain access to them, though, I need a bit of information. Not about the Councilmen themselves, but of their servants. Who serves whom, and where I may find them. This will be of infinite help to me, and to the Guild." Wilfric paused, watching the beggar carefully. He had offered a bit more bait, now he just had to wait and see whether the beggar would take it.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Jul 17, 2008 3:04:44 GMT
Vic narrowed her eyes as she met the gaze of the man before her, anger rushing through her. "Don't play coy with me," she growled in response, allowing the tip of her weapon to remain where the man had pushed it, though she held the shaft tightly. "I saw what you were doing, shutting the gates to the city!"
"What I want to know is why!" she barked angrily. If the man truly was the figure from her vision, the demon closing shut the gates, then she already had some idea of who...or what had told him to do it. There had to be some connection...to the people like her and Klace, and the voice, whatever it was. "What does...what does it want!?"
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Post by Tom Bombadil on Jul 17, 2008 3:54:45 GMT
Be careful, my child.
His master's heavy, comforting voice spoke softly, yet with authority. Casca maintained a placid expression, eyes fixated on those of the other Chosen.
No sense lying to this one. She knows...but how? He inhaled through his nose, smelling the air. His passive power gave him the ability to pick up on the scents all around him. Every thing, living or inanimate, had a signature scent. This woman had the stink of blood all about her. Curious. I thought the Lights were pacifists? Or is this a Light at all? But if she were not a Light, how would she know of the master and still be trying to stop me? The neutral ones are not this decisive, usually.
He did not move from his position, but still appeared to be relaxed, folding his hands in front of him. She thinks I know the master's motives...this could work to my advantage.
"You should ask him that for yourself, my dear lady. I am sure he would love to have an audience with you. And I mean that sincerely." Casca's eyes flashed as a small smile crept onto his face.
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Post by Vicorva on Jul 17, 2008 11:43:45 GMT
Phorease's words struck Lex like a physical blow. Everything he had said had hit Lex more deeply than anyone but the Darkness had ever been able to reach. Had this been the Darkness working?
No, my child... I would never speak to you so. How stupid is this conjurer? How dare he speak as if he knows you! The Darkness urged Lex to anger, to hate. Hate Phorease, hate what he is doing you. How dare he claim to know you...
Except that Lex could find no fault in what he'd said. He hadn't said it because he was trying to gain power over her, or to force her to believe she was something she was not. His words had been to good purpose: they fit her more snugly than anything even the darkness had ever said. If she had not known that it was not, she would have sworn his ability was sight.
And the way he was looking at her, contemplatively, but not aggressively, made her feel strange. Nobody had ever looked at her like that, and not meant harm.
Lex laughed, an unguarded reaction, full of startled mirth, when Phorease stomach rumbled and he rubbed it. Like a master and his pet... she thought, amused.
She deliberately mistook his words, golden eyes shining with mischief. "Yeah, I mean, I wouldn't want to steal from the poor. Good spot..." she felt strangely light-hearted as she rose from her seat and headed to the counter to get them some food. As if the weight on her heart was easing.
The Darkness was panicking. It could not afford to lose this one: to secure Wilfric and Lex was to secure the world. It needed all his other shades, but having the two greatly effected the balance, and it could feel her slipping away.
Bu how to regain her? Now could not be a good time. To tighten the noose now could be fatal: she might break free in protest. He had to wait until she was most confused... then would be the time.
Lex got two plates of food (one significantly larger) and headed back to the table. She balanced the plates, one in each hand, with skillful ease as she slid into her seat and set the larger one before Phorease, grinning. "Enjoy," she said. "It's not that rich, but its filling and good for you."
But as she sat there, she began to fidget. She felt like she should be doing something, not trapped in this building, far away from sky, sea and earth. She wanted to run...
She wondered, briefly, if Phorease might run with her. Hope swelled in her heart. She had never run with company.
The darkness was not pleased.
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Post by FC4 on Jul 17, 2008 16:28:59 GMT
Wilfric laughed softly as the man muttered that he may need more coin, before producing a second, bigger bag. "Well, if you give me the answers I seek, there are four times that amount in this bag." Wilfric promised. "As well as a bit of food for that belly of yours." He lowered the bag back beneath his cloak, so that the man couldn't get to it unless he offered the answers that Wilfric sought. "The information I need is quite valuable. You see, I am planning a heist that is a bit... grand, on the scale. Of the Councilmen, as a matter of fact." Wilfric whispered, keeping his voice low so that the others that passed them by could not hear. "In order to gain access to them, though, I need a bit of information. Not about the Councilmen themselves, but of their servants. Who serves whom, and where I may find them. This will be of infinite help to me, and to the Guild." Wilfric paused, watching the beggar carefully. He had offered a bit more bait, now he just had to wait and see whether the beggar would take it. "Ya be an ambitious one, ain't ya?" The beggar remarked, pocketing the current coins and looking at the second bag as it slipped into the man's coat. A small grin played over his dirtied face. "Apparently ya ain't taught etiquette like ya used to be. Ya wan' info, ya give coin. No info wit'out coin first." "For yer curren' price... Most councilmen live in them rooms in ta Palace. Guards and all that. Never been in, never seen. The servants livin' with 'em mostly, an' o'ly come out for chore stuff." ---------------------- Lee skid to a halt on the Red Ring Road, kicking up painted dust clouds as he slowed himself and stood steady. He was staring at a framed picture hanging on a water-colored depiction of an ancient ruined fort. Likely the picture hanging on the wall in the real world was showing a picturesque view of the Imperial City from across the lake. But it really could be showing anything, for all he knew. it was what he saw of the real world through that picture that made him pause. It was a low class inn, and there were darkly lit tables with people actively eating and drinking. But what he noticed was two people sitting at a table in the far corner. One had his back to him, the other was- Lex! Lee stared at the woman, it had to be her. The same bright, wild golden eyes, the same wild and adventurously exciting image about her. It had to be her. But the other on... the man. He was in a dark robe, with golden shoulder pieces, and had an intricate staff. Lee had seen the man somewhere, he knew it. That auburn hair and that quartz ball. Who was he? Obviously a mage, but the rest eluded the young scholar/artist. And in the moment that he stood still within the world of art, his form became visible in the painting that hung on the wall, a burgundy dressed man with spectacles and a longsword standing on the Red Ring Road, with the Imperial City in the background. Looking right at Lex. No, it is better you do not meet her. She has no interest in you. Who ever would? Lee heard the voice whisper, and for a moment he considered going out there and seeing her anyways, simply because the voice had said not to. But the voice had a point... And he was not aware the Darkness had other plans for turning him away from the light. Turning away from the frame with a downhearted sigh, Lee continued his search for the painting he sought. That one simple movement caused his form to disappear from the painting on the wall of the Feed Bag. Gone. --------------------- Phorease rose an eyebrow in inquiry at her little joke, not quite catching her drift. Then again, he was a sorcerer, and maybe it was a roguish joke, so he didn't know the necessary information to understand it. Unless she meant nobles stealing from the poor. Why did he always have to be clueless, one step behind, with this woman? He watched her approach the counter, eyes naturally roving her form as she moved, until he realized what he was doing and diverted his gaze to his mug. Don't let her think you are some sex-crazed pervert. Then your chance at answers, or even a friendship, are out the window, chap. He told himself, staring at the liquid in it. When was this mug filled? He wondered as Lex approached, displaying her dexterity as she balanced both plates and handed Phorease the larger of the two. Smiling, he looked down at the food, and then frowned. It was a near raw piece of venison. Well, not raw, but the blood was pooling on the plate beneath the meat, suggesting the cook had used the blood like a marinade. Hesitantly, Phorease poked the meat with his fork and then sliced a piece. Yep, rather pink on the inside there. he thought, lifting up the piece and looking at it at eye level, as if his stare could fully cook it. Then he looked at Lex around the piece, and saw that she was grinning as she watched him. So lighthearted and happy. Discrediting the food of her class might shatter that uniquely pretty grin and his hopes at anything past a hello in the future. Shrugging, Phorease cast his own smirk. "Never hurts to try something new, I suppose." He remarked before putting the meat into his mouth and chewing. It brought back more memories than he had anticipated, and he seemed to droop as he chewed, even though his chewing indicated a delight for the flavor. it was good... but it was so much like his childhood, that life he had abandoned.
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Post by webster52402 on Jul 17, 2008 16:39:09 GMT
Wilfric laughed, as though he were embarrassed about his actions, producing the bag and handing it to the beggar. "Right right, I'm sorry. But, we in the Guild have to be a bit more cautious now. Especially when what I am planning is indeed so ambitious... There aren't many that would even THINK of doing something like this." He pointed out, playing to the man's thought that he was an amateur Guild member. Inside, though, Wilfric was smiling. And not in a kind way. Yes, you have your coin beggar, and your food... But just you wait until that food begins to get through your system. Can't have you telling anyone that is ACTUALLY from the Guild my plans, now can I? He thought cruelly, his mind picturing the juicy red apple that lay within the bag. Hehe, that beggar wouldn't know what hit him.
"Now, that you have your coin. What kind of chores do they usually come out to run? And, how will I recognize these servants?" He asked, flicking his gaze habitually towards the Waterfront's opening to the harbor, as though he were checking for arrivals. In actuality, he was simply impatient to go and find these servants. Every moment that passed let the election progress further, and he wanted to get this done as soon as possible. And, if the man could detect the haste in his voice, it would likely only be attributed to the size of the task that he was apparently sizing up.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Jul 17, 2008 17:32:44 GMT
There was a subtle clinking of plate armour as Vic tightened her grip on her halberd, pointing the sharpened edge of her weapon once again towards the face of the man before her. "You arrogant son of a bitch," she snarled bitterly, a growing sense of disgust pitted in her stomach. "You're nothing but its slave, aren't you? Its puppet. Letting that damn voice control your mind."
You speak only of yourself, girl. Allowing dreams and hallucinations to steer your thoughts, guided by illusions when you reject what you know to be real.
But Vic was past the point of letting the voice inside her mind deter her, confuse her; she knew that the dream, the angel, had been real. I won't fall to the Darkness... she thought to herself, determined. I won't let what happened to Octavius happen to me!
"I don't know what that bastard wants, what it's planning," Vic explained to the man before her, steel in her voice and eyes. "But I'm going to stop it. I'll hunt down and kill every last misbegotten wretch and whoreson that let that thing control their minds."
Vic's muscles tensed as she shifted her weight, preparing her halberd.
"And I'm starting with you."
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