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Post by Donovan on Sept 1, 2015 2:57:37 GMT -6
The mercenary garbed in green listened in awe as his companion spoke of the City of Heroes. Had it been told by anyone else, Donovan would have thought the story just a tall tale, an exaggeration. Sure, undead were believable. Gargoyles, too. But a one eyed Giant? Impossible. Unbelievable. And yet, they were coming from the mouth of a man the mercenary could only imagine was as honest as Don was… creative.
“I must admit, Remus, had you not been the one to tell me you fought in that battle, I wouldn’t have believed it. And if anyone else had told me what happened there I would have laughed in there face. It is good to know that there are still heroes out there who will do all that they can to take on those impossible odds. Though what really interests me is this shaded man you spoke of. I have fought the undead before and nearly lost my life doing so. Everyone has heard tales of Gargoyles leaving death and destruction in their wake in Bern. Even cyclopes are something that are fairly common in legend. But I have not heard any tale of these Shades. Not off the top of my head, at least. Not unless it is something as far fetched as dragons still wandering the earth. Tell me more about this man, Preacher.”
Donovan remembered tales of Demons and monsters, old and ancient plays that his father had forced him to read once or twice, because they were some of the first plays one could find. But they weren’t like The Scoured Love — A play so old and overplayed that Donovan had to have it memorized by the time he was 5. These plays had died out a long, long time ago and were only useful in understanding the history of the theater.
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Post by Remus on Sept 2, 2015 16:20:09 GMT -6
There was a quiet pause as the priest looked instead from the sky to gaze quietly at the dancing blades of viridian which they stood upon, and how they danced upon the slightest influence from the winds gentle touch. It was...calming to see compared to the memories he dredged up. The priest closed his eyes, so as to better encapsulate the shadowy male. "He was dangerous. First he was man however. He was originally one of the men helping fight Hargus. He stroke at the cyclops, and the monster there in. However...when the one eyed monster had been felled, his ax had shattered; I imagine from the ferocity of his hit to be the cause. However after he retrieved a blade and went to fight once more, he changed. His skin turned pitch black, beyond the ashen grey of dead flesh. As if he was shrouded in shadows. He moved faster. Far faster than any human rightfully should. He also began to wield the same magic that Harugs himself did. I admit, for a time I lost sight of him. A man attempted to abduct me, as a shield from the gargoyles. The woman that saved me, a famous Etrurian assassin no less, eventually turned to do battle with this creature later. I didn't learn until later who she was, an assassin by the name of Jya. Apparently she is one of Elibe's best, and most feared. "
He paused as if to center himself. The priest moved, lifting both arms as if to cross them, clasping at his own forearms with his staff between them and pressed to his chest. A shiver ran down the priests spine before he continued, quietly recollecting. "She fought the monster alongside a sacaen woman, at-least I believe she was. Her blade was unlike any I've personally seen. They fought this monster simultaneously, and at times other defenders attempted to help. Healing them was all I could manage, for though he landed no blows on them..he had a dark...presence. Like an aura that whittled away at the soul. Dark Magic, to be sure..Elder Magic. It was unlike any I'd ever read or seen...though I've read far more than seen of the dark power. It was like a haze. A sphere of darkness, like an inverted version of my healing magic. It did no bodily harm...but ate away at the soul. I felt it's effect. It was as if someone had reached into my body and attempted to harm me from within. I do not think my healing magic did much to undo this damage..but I attempted my best. After perhaps the longest handful of minutes in my life, the monster fled. However the wounded around me were numerous, so I had attempted to heal them all...and in doing so nearly surrender my own life. I passed out a few moments later, and after that I personally am unable to confirm any further."
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Post by Donovan on Sept 14, 2015 8:08:12 GMT -6
The silver tongued mercenary listened to Remus' story of the shaded man. He knew little about the nether and anything that he knew about demons and their like were taken from plays so old that you could barely understand the vocabulary they used - despite being written in the common tongue. Regardless, those plays were horror stories, not tales of love or growth. They were pure and simple warnings - be careful what dark powers you disturb. “There are a few plays you’ve probably never even heard of. They haven’t so much as been performed for, eh, about 100 - maybe 200 years. They were all about ancient demons and deals with the nether. If they’d had a little more light in them, they'd probably have been really compelling stuff. But as they were written, they were pure and simple, some of the most mind numbing plays ever put to page. My da only made me read them because they were the oldest ones he knew of and he wanted me to understand the history of my people.
“Now I always read them as your standard 'take care when dealing with magic' tales — I mean, everyone knows the danger of tapping too far into the nether. It rattles your brain, right? But that’s the thing about these plays. They rarely dealt with any actual shamans tapping into dark forces. It was always some dark, mysterious item that unleashed hell. A jewelry box that should have remained unopened. A puzzle that was never meant to be solved. A diary never meant to be read… Now, given, these ‘demons’ from those old plays were supposed to be 10 feet tall, with horns and red skin — so take from it what you will. But there are 2 things they definitely have in common with your story; the unleashing coming after using a certain item and that shadow... thing. The plays all said that demons wore a cloak of pure shadow. I dunno what I think about it, honestly, but… Well, it’s a problem for someone else to deal with, right, Preacher? Besides, if something like a demon was walking around today, then there’d probably be a whole damn city of dragons, too.”
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Post by Remus on Sept 15, 2015 13:34:50 GMT -6
The priest felt a slight shiver trace the length of his spine before he opened his eyes. Simply recalling it made him feel colder. As if the heat had slowly siphoned out of the world around him until he had little else left to grasp at for warmth despite the set of robes he wore which most would likely consider excessively warm. It simply was with such things. He lifted a hand to comb through the messy blue hair of his while he quietly speculated, not in an attempt to be devoid of humor but rather, still slightly trapped within the haunting recollections. "The powers of Elder Magic are truly frightening. That the very act of wielding it puts you in danger is something I can't help but shudder when thinking of. At-least with other magics...the spirits of nature or communing within your own soul to harness light; you are not in danger of losing your mind. Seeing what Hargus, or this shade like man had become...I truly do not know what to think of it. Just...never had I seen destruction on such a wide scale. Even Elias, the mage I spoke of earlier, was unable to significantly fight such a monster alone. I believe that also frightens me..to see so many talented individuals have to band together and only then even barely be able to win? From a scholarly stand point it would prompt so much debate and analysis...yet in actuality I find myself so terrified to ever imagine a recreation of those events that I would never wish to see it transpire. "
He sighed briefly before shifting stance and clasping at his staff with both hands. He gazed thoughtfully downwards before the priest spoke up, some of his old cheer bleeding through. "Ah..but why lament on what has passed, eh? Such things would do nothing but lead me to unneeded stress haha!"
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Post by Donovan on Sept 27, 2015 6:18:31 GMT -6
"They say all things come at a price. You couldn’t pay me enough money to even consider toying with the Nether.” The mercenary stood and stretched. The dash of crimson had sprinted out of the grass, shoe dangling in it’s grip. But rather than continue to play, the little fur ball threw the girl’s shoe up into the air and rolled over onto it’s side, falling asleep within a moment. The green clad mercenary couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. His boots padded softly over to his fox, the grass beneath him crunching quietly. Donovan’s knee’s made a little popping sounds as he crouched down, a finger extended to prod at the still round belly of the kit. Kitchi’s only reaction was a small twitching of the ear. Don sighed and scooped up the little devil, before walking back over to Remus.
“I think the little guy is pooped. You know, I wanted to teach him some tricks, to have him help us out on some jobs, but the little monster sometimes seems like he’s friggin narcoleptic.” Don looked down at the peaceful creature in his arms, who’d only just recently lost its mother. He wondered if the fox kit still remembered her or understood that she had died. “You're right, you shouldn’t dwell on these things too much, Remus. Some of us are already broken. Hell, most of us are — some are just better at hiding that fact. But you’re still good. You’re like Kitchi, you haven’t lost that thing that warms a person’s day. Don’t let that get away from you. The world needs people like you a hell of a lot more than it needs a rogue like me.”
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Post by Remus on Oct 15, 2015 19:55:25 GMT -6
The nether. A particularly dangerous subject in some places. Most people had superstitious levels of distaste towards it, and those that practiced it. The lapis haired priest leaned forwards while nodding to agree with the young mercenary before he looked skywards. Though the children prowled and flopped about while playing with the fox kit, the priest had admittedly delved into a more thoughtful outlook for the time and was paying less attention to them. With them being so close to the camp it wasn't much to warrant concern towards idle distraction after-all.
He shifted his poise though and lifted his staff a bit as Donovan collected the small now slumbering fox, chuckling at his comment before shaking his head now disagreeing with the mercenary before walking past him a few steps and tapping his staff lightly to the ground as if to assert a comment. "I disagree with you. As a close friend was quick to point out, I am far too trusting. People like me, are poor at surviving on their own. It's only with the rogue types like you, ironically, that I've made it as far as I have. The people that I was warned about most of my life..er..no offense intended.." At this point he made a motion to turn and gesture towards don while apologizing, hoping hat associating Don as such would simply reflect the nature of his trusting side as opposed to any negative implication towards Donovan. "Have been the people that keep saving my life when ever I am near death. So many dangerous moments where I've been dragged through the fire from people who well..had experience with those situations. So, folly on that comment sir. It takes many types of people to make a good world. A better one even. "
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Post by Donovan on Oct 21, 2015 19:38:44 GMT -6
Once again the mercenary could not quite believe what Remus was saying. It seemed almost ridiculous how opposing their perspectives were. Donovan wished he could be more noble and honest, Remus wished he could be less so. The grass is always greener, they say. “I don’t generally take offense to honesty. I just don’t personally participate in such areas frequently. Though I doubt I was what you were warned about — people always warn to lock your doors and avoid dark alleys, lest you get robbed or murdered. They always forget about the con man. My particular breed of rogue always seem to leave few tracks to follow.” A smile crept over Donovan’s face. He’d not done too much conning. Well, not against many decent folk at least. Unless one counted merchants like Grev who he’d fooled into thinking he was a seasoned killer before he even knew how to properly swing a blade. But a reputation must have legs to stand on, and who has more honest legs than a priest.
When Donovan spoke next, he couldn’t help feel like there was something he needed to make clear to the priest, something he hoped would help Remus understand his importance. The silver tongued mercenary chose his words carefully. “Folk like me and Perun. Hell, probably even Duma and Flynn. We’re not gonna change the world. We’re victims of it. How many kids do you think grow up wanting to be a mercenary guard for a caravan traveling across the whole damn continent? For next to no pay, on top of everything?” Donovan couldn’t help but laugh, with a strange tone of helpless happiness. “We’re all what we are because this world’s a dark place. We’ve all lost something,” Don looked up toward where Perun was lounging, remembering the story of the Giant’s slain love and his child he would never know. “Some of us have lost more than others… But… we are all here because it’s the right thing to do. Because you and these kids need a little rogue in your life to keep a lot of rogue at bay. Because we want to stop what happened to us from snuffing out another candle in this ever darkening room.
“You think you’re weak because you can’t fight, but you’re wrong. You’re confusing what the world is made of with how the world will be made better, Preacher. Guys like me don’t get the chance to do anything good unless there’s a guy like you who doesn’t even grasp that there’s another f***ing option!
“You’re the hero of this story, Remus. Stop being so hard on yourself.” The mercenary’s tone shifted quickly and a devilish smile crossed his face, “You don’t want me to get the Big Guy to come over here and give you a pep talk. They’re none so eloquent as mine and I don’t think your ribs could handle a bear hug from him when he decides you need some support.”
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Post by Remus on Oct 26, 2015 13:27:35 GMT -6
Remus, despite being contemplative was quick to respond the first time. He shook his head almost insistently while looking towards the boy and shifting his staff as he leaned more of his weight against it. His other hand free, of the burden that came with gripping the staff constantly, pressed to the lapis robes he sported which indicated him as a priest of Elimine. His fingers curled into a passive ball as he spoke up. "I can't consider you a conman. Even if you've done things in the past I've no knowledge of. A conman isn't someone who would risk life and limb to protect strangers. Even if you try to say out of a desire to extort them for their peril; it's fair to assume they'd charge money first. You did no such thing. Infact, you've yet to mention it again since we left Sacae."
The rest though..he was slower to elaborate on. He had to actually figure out how he wanted to best word his thoughts. His gaze met the ground as two small children came trudging back to him quietly. The soft footsteps brushing grass aside and crushing it afoot was enough to alert him. He shifted his gaze once more, now looking at them before speaking. This prompted him to smile before it dawned on him. This time, he simply spoke his thoughts un-edited instead of compiling them like he was about to. After all, if spoken truthfully..can one fear their own words?
"There can be more than one Hero in a story Donovan. Besides..haha I feel more like the sidekick than anything! I'm not one to actually stand at the front and face things head on like you all can. I tell you what though. We can agree to both be the guys the world needs. It's like a loop. The guy that can't do things, thinks up the change, so that the guy who can do things but doesn't know how to change things can make the change. We make those changes together. Alone, we don't really get anything done. I can think of the change, but can't do it alone. You might not think of how to make the change work, but once you know, you can get to changing. Seems like a fair enough trade to me, ahaha!"
His lips parted to speak again, before he noticed the poorly attempted stifle of a yawn that Amelia mustered before she bumped her head lightly to his knee sleepily. The priest chuckled and ran his hand along the girls small onyx shaded hair. Ruffling it lightly, he knelt down to scoop the small girl up as she leaned like a rag-doll against the priest in his arms. Unlike owain who still seemed very awake, Amelia played hard, and that meant sleeping hard. The priest smiled warmly to Donovan before shrugging a bit.
"Well, this has been a fun, and enlightening talk, but I think that it's time I help her take a nap and try to fix something for Owain. So, shall we head back to camp?" Quietly the priest made his way back, smiling with his ever happy expression. Always a wondrous thing, forming bonds was.
[End thread]
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