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Post by Oya on Jan 17, 2014 18:20:19 GMT -6
“What in the world”, thought Oya as he saw a man with Orange hair running through the street. He was screaming about his sister and the fact that he would spread doom across the town. For everyone else it was a shock, but not for Oya. Oya knew immediately what this was about. There was no way that the guards would let a orange hair man inside the town. It was that guy. The thief he was making his own move. All eyes shifted to Oya as people began to mummer.
“After him”, shouted Charles as he came from the Inn. A angered expression crossed his face. “Something is not making sense here”, spoke the man.
“I have nothing to do with that guy”, spoke Oya taking the chance to defend himself.
“Yeah right”, spoke a man from the crowd. “Orange hair man and a orange hair girl”, spoke Another. “I say we hold her hostage and make him show up to rescue her”, spoke another.
“Calm down folks calm down”, spoke Charles. People were begging to gather in the streets. Oya was beginning to see a mob form. In his mind he cursed Oleg for starting this mess. At the rate things were going it looked like it was going to end badly for him. ‘Hold on, hold on,”, spoke Charles. “Miss Mimi has nothing to do with that man. She came in through the gate alone. I myself can confirm it.”
“Oh like we can trust your word”, shouted a man in the crowd. “Yeah”, spoke a woman. “Your suppose to keep Orange hairs out, and yet there is one running through the streets.”
“Calm down”, spoke Charles trying to control the crowd, but things were starting to get out of control.
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Post by Willow on Jan 17, 2014 18:23:54 GMT -6
"I, the orange demon have arrived, with my sister!"
Demon?
*click.* Almost as if 'demon' was a trigger word, Willow leapt onto her mount and galloped after the orange-haired man. As she shot towards him, gaining ground, he suddenly rushed into a dark spot. Undeterred, Willow drew a bubble of light magic and sent it blazing toward where he had gone with surprising force.
"And may St. Elimine have mercy on your soul, sinner..." she whispered to herself.
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Post by The Madness on Jan 17, 2014 18:27:58 GMT -6
Oleg grinned, having clumbed up a rooftop as he heard the sound of something big slamming against the wall of the building he climbed. Someone was after him, but he simply grunted, his chest wound nearly opening again. He cursed his age, finally making it to the rooftop as he then searched his backpack, hearing some of the guards run past the alley he had climbed up on. He did not have much time, this distraction had to cause the last straw. He then pulled out a vial of green liquid, opening it as it then started to hiss with contact on the air, as he then threw it towards the forming mob, speaking out in a mighty, demonic voice. "YOU SHALL ALL BE CURSED! THE GASSES OF THIS CONCOCTION SHALL POISON YOU! YOU ALL SHALL DIE DUE TO DISEASES!" he then made his mad cackle, before he climbed down the rooftop, checking that there were no guards there, as he then silently laid in waiting in a corner. He wanted to see what was going to happen. And he had a spare plan, would it not work. Anarchy reigns.
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Post by Oya on Jan 17, 2014 18:50:56 GMT -6
“Silence”, a voice spoke and the crowd went quite. Oya took notice. This man had some pull amongst the people. It was almost as if he was Hartmut himself. The priest from earlier had returned. He was quite angry with the turn of events. “Charles has been protecting this village for ten years. In this time of chaos there is no better person to trust.” The priest words calmed the crowd a bit, but murmurs were still floating around.
“Thank you father”, spoke Charles. He then turned to one of his guards. “Find me that man who was stabbed in the chest. I have some questions for him. All the evidence does not make sense. Lady Mimi”, spoke Charles as he walked up to Oya. “For your safety we are going to have to take you to the tower.” Curses thought Oya. He so wanted to check out the archives, and gain some knowledge on his clan.
“I understand’, spoke Oya. “However is there a chance that you have any written knowledge about this prophecy. I would like to know what is going on and read up about it.”
“Still a historian even in this mess”, spoke Charles.
The priest interjected into the conversation. “I am sorry to say this, but that is not allowed. The ancient script is old. Plus the information in the ancient scrip is not shared with outsiders. We fear that someone might mimic its knowledge and use it against us.”
Curse that thief thought Oya. Even with him not involved gaining the knowledge he sought was still going to be hard. “I see”, spoke Oya. “Well then I am off to the tower.”
“What they are taking that wench off to the tower”, shouted one man in the crowd. “We should be executing her not putting her in custody.”
“Silence”, yelled Charles as he and his guards took Oya away.
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Post by The Madness on Jan 17, 2014 18:56:29 GMT -6
Oleg heard the mention of him being looked for. He decided to take the chanche, as he pulled his pants down, tugging them to his knees as he then slowly wobbled to the ground, lifting his pants up as he grunted. What he arrived to was some of the people panicking over the gas released from the vial, with the soldiers keeping them under control. For now. He then coughed, motioning to the chief. "Sorry... Hngh. I had to go for the loo. I heard you needed me? What happened, why is there all this panic?" He looked about questionably.
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Post by Willow on Jan 17, 2014 19:03:45 GMT -6
Willow heard a familiar voice and saw... Black hair? Black? But... the demon had ORANGE hair.
It was the work of dark, evil magic, she was sure.
With her conscience calmed, she rode behind the man and summoned a sparkling, shining globe of light, spinning it to the size of a large melon and offering a prayer to St. Elimine for divine guidance.
"You!" she shouted, aiming the globe. "You cannot hide from the light of St. Elimine! Demon, prepare yourself!"
With that, she released the globe, which bobbed toward the man, gradually gaining speed and whirling faster as it approached.
"And may St. Elimine have mercy on your soul, sinner..." she whispered to herself.
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Post by Augustus Nacht on Jan 17, 2014 19:23:19 GMT -6
This...
This was pretty entertaining.
Nacht watched from his perch with some amusement. He sat in a chair on the veranda of a classy inn, watching the chaos unfold. And all because of the color of someone's hair too. Pretty hilarious, really. The Druid accepted his drink from the waitress with a word of thanks and proceeded to watch the show. With all the condemnation and near riots, Nacht was sure that something was about to go down and that chances were it was gonna be bloody. And where there was blood, there was death. And where there was death, there were souls to claim.
He may have just been passing through before, but now he certainly looked forward to seeing the results of this chaos.
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Post by Oya on Jan 17, 2014 19:24:05 GMT -6
“There you are”, spoke Charles. “I have some questions for you about your attacker. According to what the father told my men that your attacker was a orange hair man, but a witness told me that nobody exited the ally after Mimi screamed. Another thing that bothers me is the fact that your sword strapped to your belt is the same on that was in your chest. What is”, spoke Charles, but he was interrupted by Willow.
The Valkire sent a slow firing attack at Oleg. Charles however was at the very end of his patients. As the light went forward Charles grabbed one of his guards named Bob and threw him into it. Bob was quite well known for his magic resistance so Charles felt safe doing so. As he threw Bob at the slow moving attack he turned to the rest of his men. “Get that mage down and put him in cuffs.” Immediately the guards jumped at Willow attempting to pull him off his horse. Charles then turned back towards Oleg, but a sudden wave of outcry stopped him in his tracts.
“Did you see that he just sacrificed Bob.” “Yeah I saw”, spoke another. “Heartless”, spoke one woman. “And we are suppose to expect him to protect us”, spoke one man.
“Charles you should not have done that”, spoke the priest as the crowd began to riot. Oleg became the least of his worries.
Meanwhile the other guardsmen were escorting Oya to the tower. Curses thought Oya as he walked with the guards. They were probably going to lock him in a cell. When the disease start to spread people are going to die like flies. When that happens no one maybe around to help him out the cage and that was a problem. Oya had no plans to starve to death in a prison cell.
“There she is get her”, a familiar voice came from Oya side. It was the same man that screamed earlier about burning him alive. This man was hell bent on killing Oya for some reason. He had gathered a mob of like minded people and armed them with weapons from the town armory.
“What in the world”, spoke one guard as the mob fell upon them. The guards fought back, but the shear number of people was overwhelming. Oya had no faith in the fighting ability of the guards and in the mist of the chaos slipped away. However his movement was noticed by the mob leader who gave chase.
“Come back here angle of death”, he screamed as Oya turned a corner. He followed behind with his axe read. As soon as he turned the corner he received a strong blow to the face. The punch knocked him on his back. The man looked up to see Oya standing above him. The pirate was no longer acting like the frail innocent girl like before. No he had reverted back to his true self. Murder could be seen in his eyes as his glare paralyzed the man.
“Hel”, that was all the man could say before Oya tossed a knife into his skull.
“Don’t underestimate me”, spoke the pirate as he walked off. He let the corpse keep the knife.
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Post by The Madness on Jan 17, 2014 19:28:36 GMT -6
Oleg shared a faint grin. Now was his chanche. "I can explain the sword. You see, it was mine." He walked to the captain, who was focused on other things as he then suddenly sliced his sword towards the back of his neck, starting to clean his blade from the blood afterwards as he kicked the body down. "People of this town! Hear me. Your captain of the guard failed you and let the demon inside. Who knows what could have happened! ANYONE COULD BE THE DEMON IN DISGUISE! Fight for your life!" He then let off a faint chuckle to himself. That should be enough anarchy. He then calmly set off away from the group, beginning his plunder for booty and trophies. He would not be in debt for a few months.
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Post by Willow on Jan 17, 2014 19:44:16 GMT -6
As the guards advanced, Willow gave a short, dainty laugh and blasted them aside with gentle light magic. "Forward, Storm!" she cried to her horse, who whinnied and trotted toward the retreating back of the demonic man. A final guard was still hanging off of Storm, so she gave him a good clout with her stave, before again addressing the black-haired and black-hearted fiend.
"Hold, you villain!" Willow exclaimed, working herself into a holy rage. "You shall not escape the fires of hell, lest you REPENT your sins! I shall purify you with St. Elimine's guiding light. Be saved!"
With that, Willow began rapidly firing small, orange-sized droplets of light magic. In this case, quantity would certainly outdo quality... Willow concentrated as she drew nearer to the man, and again prayed to St. Elimine for divine strength.
"Kwaaaaaa!" Willow screamed, unleashing a veritable torrent of the small magic spheres. Tired, Willow slumped down lower on Storm and breathed deeply, calming her mind and preparing herself.
"And may St. Elimine have mercy on your soul, sinner..." she whispered to herself.
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Post by Oya on Jan 17, 2014 20:14:13 GMT -6
Chaos consumed the town as mobs fought the guards near the tower and Oleg starting a riot near the tavern. It looked as if all order was coming to an end and chaos would take over the town.
“Enough”, shouted the priest as he tried to take control of the crowd, but his words fell on death ears. The people began to panic. Charles was dead and a fight had broken out in the middle of the street.
“Enough”, a voice rang out over the crowd as a hail of arrows began to cut a few of them down. All eyes turned back towards the gate as a man in White armor sat atop white seed. His hair was a honey blond and his eye a sky blue. He had a great beard combined with a mustache that made him look then years older than he was. Behind the man were several soldiers of mix class, and in the sky was a group of Pegasus knights. This man was the Marshal.
“What is going on here”, he asked the priest as he dismounted the horse. He then saw Charles head on the ground. His facial expression changed dramatically. “You fitly ingrates”, he shouted. “I see what is going on. You all are rebelling against Bern.”
“No”, shouted the priest as he rushed up to the man. “That is not what is going on here. There just panic”, spoke the priest. “The prophesy was brought up.”
“The prophesy”, spoke the man. “You mean that silly belief that an orange hair man will bring doom upon your. Pshaw you religious fools. I have had enough with your stupidity. I had to transferee some of my men because of your idiotic ways. I had enough of your prophesy.”
“Please Marshal”, spoke the priest, but the man simply pushed him out of the way. “All of you return to your homes”, he shouted. “This city is now under martial law any man or woman saw outside their house will be immediately killed. There will be no exceptions.”
“What about us that don’t live here”, spoke Oya as he came from around the corner.
“Miss Mimi”, spoke the priest surprised to see her.
“Sorry priest, but the guards escorting me were attacked by a mob. I escaped in the confusion, but don’t know if the guards survived. Where is Charles”, asked Oya. He expected the man to start asking him questions.
“He is dead”, spoke the Marshal as he walked up to Oya. He took a good look at him and then turned to the priest. “Is this the woman that started it all.”
“No”, spoke the priest. “She is the woman from the report, but she had nothing to do with the rioting. It was”, before he could finish the Marshal silenced him with a wave of his hand. “Go to the inn”, he spoke. “I am going to get to the bottom of all this. Jargon”, he spoke as a soldier stepped out of the ranks.
“Yes sir”, spoke the man.
“Go to each house and tell the residence there is going to be a town hall meeting at nine. Tell them they will be escorted there by soldiers and if any got out of line, or mention that a curse prophecy they will be killed on the spot.”
“Of course sir”, spoke Jargon as he began his duty.
“The rest of you search the town. I want order restored. I am going to set up our command post at the tower.”
“Yes sir”, they shouted in unison.
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Post by The Madness on Jan 17, 2014 20:18:29 GMT -6
Oleg let out a angry sigh, hearing the same cleric as he turned around, using the body of Charles as cover as he was launched back. He grit his teeth, using the advantage to take his escape to the chaotic fights around to get his loot. Oleg whistled a happy tune, a sack of gold and trinkets on his shoulder. He was enjoying this. Full anarchy always ment full acquirement of all the joys in life. He had even taken some of the fine wine from the tavern! He chuckled as he slowly threw books down onto the ground around one of the buildings, whistling as he threw a matchstick to them, litting them afire as the fire spred. He then took a horse, mounted ontop of it and joyfully rode away to the night. One rebellion later, he had enrichened himself with gold, wine, and a healthy dose of acing practice. A productive day.
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Post by Augustus Nacht on Jan 17, 2014 20:44:01 GMT -6
Nacht sipped at his drink, muttering something beneath his breath. Beyond the sight of mortal men something stirred. The movement of souls as they drew to Augustus Nacht. To every other person, Nacht just sat there drinking from his glass. But to Nacht himself, he could feel the souls of the recently slain flowing into him. The guards killed by Oya, the guards killed by Willow, the townsfolk and other guards killed in the riot, even the additional ones that died as the Marshal stormed in, proclaiming his authority.
And Nacht just grinned. He'd only been passing through, but this small break was turning out to be rather fruitful.
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Post by Willow on Jan 17, 2014 20:52:00 GMT -6
Willow angrily pouted.
"That demon disappeared," she whined. Suddenly, she felt... Cold. Something cold. It was as if something... Dark, and evil, and sick was nearby. Twirling and twisting on Storm, she gazed into the alleys... Nothing.
The air crackled as she charged a strong ball of light magic and burst it above her head, briefly illuminating the surroundings. No demon. Nobody. But... Wait... There! On the balcony!
A traveler, it seemed. With messy hair. But... Something about him disturbed Willow. Discreetly charging a small, quick oblong of light magic, she smiled. Controllable magic was tiring, but fun.
"You, on the balcony!" she called. "Where do you hail from? And do you acknowledge the True Light of the Glorious St. Elimine?"
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Post by Augustus Nacht on Jan 17, 2014 20:59:36 GMT -6
Nacht looked over idly at Willow as she called him out, craning his neck a bit to fully view her. He had to admit to losing track of her in the chaos and had actually figured her trampled. Well, whatever. The Druid knew how to deal with her type, placate and praise. "Why good lady, I hail from lovely Bern. My faith to St. Elimine is true and it disheartens me greatly to see what has occured!" He spoke with sorrow and sincerity, his face looking downcast and saddened.
"Pray tell, good lady. Won't you say a prayer for the poor souls of the deceased?"
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