NationStates Jolt Archive

Deep in The Underground City, in a secret chamber hidden from prying eyes, Dorusceronis, supreme dictator, awaited the arrival of a supposed seer.

The seer was brought before Dorusceronis. She was a small woman, old and blind. She was shaking slightly, fearful of what was to come. Dorusceronis turned to her.

"Seer", he spoke with deep voice and firm tone. "You have been brought before me so that I might bear witness to your alleged psychic abilities."

The seer shuddered. "When you speak, I hear the screams of the legions of innocents that suffered at your will."

Unmoved, Dorusceronis replied, "I believe that is a form of schizophrenia. It is a mental disorder that weak-milled mortals such as yourself are known to suffer from. Indeed, the images conjured by the human consciousness can send said human into a great panic beyond that which any actual event could create."

"Your thoughts are cold", said the seer. "You are insensitive and emotionless."

"Allowing yourself to be controlled by emotions is a weakness. However, one should not completely eliminate them, as they are the driving force behind all we do."

The seer did not reply. Dorusceronis spoke again.

"Tell me, seer, how far into the future can you see? Days, weeks, years?"

This time the seer spoke up.

"I will not allow my gifts to be used as the tools of evil!" she croaked.

Dorusceronis snorted. "Evil is just a perspective," he growled. "Created by your foolish mortal minds. Now, I know that you are brave, and the threat of death would not change your mind, but I believe the lives of your loved ones are more important to you?"

The seer's mouth hung open, and her hand was held out, shaking in Dorusceronis' direction. "No, please, don't hurt my family", she begged.

"Answer my questions and your family shall be safe. For now."

The interrogation continued.

OOC: About the Underground City (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=93423)

Later that week, the seer was waiting by a bus stop, far away from The Underground City. She was on the planet earth, where she had not been since she was a small child. She was in a small town, and there were few people around on that hot, dry afternoon. Standing next to her was a talk, serious looking man. She was looking around anxiously, but the man was as still as a rock, waiting for the arrival of the bus.

Shortly, the bus arrived. The man turned to the seer. "Board the bus", he said firmly, but without emotion.

The seer climbed aboard, and the man followed. They sat down in some empty seats. The seer played with her necklace beads nervously, and listened to her fellow passengers. They were the sounds of talking, pages turning and the tinny noise of a personal stereo. This was probably a routine trip for many of them, but it was far from routine for the seer.

The man next to her was Atanracnad, brother to the supreme dictator. He had used powerful daemonic magick to change his form to that of a human. His true form, an eleven-feet tall daemon would not have gone unnoticed. He did not speak to the seer, he just stared forward and occasionally out of the window to the side. His mind was occupied with important matters.

OOC: Can I join this? My nation is psychotic dictatorship, it might be allied with the Underground City, I would like to play a good guy as well as a bad guy (if I can have two characters) so he might be a refugee...please? :mrgreen:

(OOC I can join in whatever you want. I do not want to bring Kain in howver, my main character. Just tell me when I can join, and what character you want me to play, if any.)

OOC: Anyone may join at this point as a bus passenger. If you wish to join later, there may be opportunities.

A man got up and walked over to the seat behind the one occupied by Atanracnad, sitting down stiffly. "The weak tower trembles at the butterfly's passsing," he murmured.

Jack Wyatt gave a quick look inside the bus. He took a sip in his flask and got back to the outside.

I'm bored.

The landscape was passing before his eyes like an endless soap opera rediffusion.

Yes, I'm f--cking bored.

He looked at his watch and grinned.

"Great. It's not meant to last... not soon," he muttered to himself.

He took his bag from below the seat and checked for what he had:
- 3 cds of so commercial a music it could make a 12 year old girl sleep,
- a cd-player with no more battery,
- a thriller book of an obscure author who would undoubtedly stay obscure,
- a packet of chewing-gum maybe older than he was.

I shouldn't have came, he thought. I dunno why I tried.

The image of his ex barking at him while throwing his stuff out the window was still vivid in his mind.

I guess some of these things will make beggars happy.

He put the bag back under the seat.

Sat on what is left of my life, he thought, laughing slightly. Back to the road.

He put his head against the window and closed his eyes. If chance came, maybe he could sleep.

Atanracnad was seated in the aisle seat, and turned around to face the man. "Do you address me?" he asked.

Alessia was staring through the window of the bus. "Search for enlightenment in the city that doesn't have a sun", those were the words of the wizard. The city that doesn't have a sun...

The half angel was puzzled, she was in the search of redemption, to erase the last influence of hell inside her soul. But the only city that she knew that doesn't have a sun was Dite, the hell's fortress.

Alessia was staring through the window of the bus. "Search for enlightenment in the city that doesn't have a sun", those were the words of the wizard. The city that doesn't have a sun...

The half angel was puzzled, she was in the search of redemption, to erase the last influence of hell inside her soul. But the only city that she knew that doesn't have a sun was Dite, the hell's fortress.

OOC: The Underground City is not known as Dite, though it is a fortress, and does exist in a realm primarily inhabited by daemons. It is called Niogoul Maeromirpli, and is seperate from other daemonic lands.

IC:
Images swirled around in the seers head. What did it all mean? She was leading the daemons to a source of great power. Great and terrible. The source of this power, though was not known. A person perhaps? It was not yet clear.

Alessia was staring through the window of the bus. "Search for enlightenment in the city that doesn't have a sun", those were the words of the wizard. The city that doesn't have a sun...

The half angel was puzzled, she was in the search of redemption, to erase the last influence of hell inside her soul. But the only city that she knew that doesn't have a sun was Dite, the hell's fortress.

OOC: The Underground City is not known as Dite, though it is a fortress, and does exist in a realm primarily inhabited by daemons. It is called Niogoul Maeromirpli, and is seperate from other daemonic lands.

IC:
Images swirled around in the seers head. What did it all mean? She was leading the daemons to a source of great power. Great and terrible. The source of this power, though was not known. A person perhaps? It was not yet clear.

OOC: I wasn't referring to the Underground city. That's the only city without a sun that Alessia, a half angel, half succubus, know. Of course I supposed that the Underground city was a different site. After all, Lucifer, Satan, or whatever you want to call him lives in Dite.

IC:
Alessia adjusted her sunglasses to hide her eyes, she was blinded after the incident in the Eyrie, and never recovered her sight. A punishment from her former Hell master, his last gift.

However, she felt the power of arcana in the same way than before, now even more that her eyes wasn't there to help her. And in this bus someone was smelling like a powerful magic user, it was just a matter of time before she discovers the hidden sorcerer.

Atanracnad could feel the presence of an magickal being. He wondered whether the seer could feel it too, but decided not to ask. The feeling troubled him.

"How could it come to be that there is an unearthly presence aboard this bus other than myself?" he thought. "It cannot be coincidence. The question is, what do they want? Are their intentions hostile, or merely investigatory?"

He looked over at Alessia. She seemed to be the source of the energy. He would take no action. If she wanted to involve herself, he would respond appropriately. He did not want to do anything to draw attention to himself or the seer.

Sunglasses, Jeff Wyatt thought as he saw Alessia putting them on. It's not like the girl needs to hide her face.

He tried, but sleep wouldn't come. He was tired though, but he never had been able to sleep in a vehicule. Not on motion at least.

Given the number of hours I passed in helicopters, I guess that's make for a huge lost in sleep time.

He tried to find a more comfortable position, amazed at his own stupidity.

Very interesting thoughts. And to think some people surely think philosophy when the occasion comes.

He looked at the girl with the sunglasses again.

I hate it how you never know if people look at you with those things.

"A demon", the answer shook her senses like a battering ram. Her enemies...She fought demons when she was an angel, after her fall from grace, she fought demons as a devil, when she acquired her succubus traits. Always their enemies, the beasts from the abyss, the terror from the deepest hole in the universe.

A mixture between excitement and fear invaded her heart. "What is doing a demon here?. For sure he's searching something, those beasts don't like sunlight", she said to herself, searching for the hilt of her dual sword, well hidden inside the cloak that was covering her body. "I need to locate the demon, Who is it?, that old man?, the child?", then her scent gave her the clue. The man sitted two seats ahead, just next to the woman. He was the demon, his aura's glow perceived by the blind devil woman.

OOC: blind devil woman. Devil woman? She is a human, who has spent most of her life in slavery.

IC:
Atanracnad was beginning to sense hostility coming from the woman. Did she truely mean to face him? He hoped that she was a worthy opponent, though he knew it was unlikely. He had not faced few remotely difficult battles since the founding of The Underground City 6000 years ago.
In his culture, the most powerful beings held superiority. He was not second-in-command to the supreme dictator for nothing. He put thoughts of battle out of his head - it was important to find the source of the power, and to do it secretly. A fight would prove disastrous.

OOC: Alessia is the blind devil woman...

IC:

And he knows about me, said Alessia to herself. This is not the better place to face a demon, I will wait until I can have the advantage. Thanks to the centuries hunting her former kin, and her own fiendish traits, Alessia could be a nasty opponent to any demon, and her blade was an hybrid between the whipsword of a succubus and the straight blades of the seraphims, capable of cutting any material like a hot knife through butter.

She just waited, until the demon makes the first movement, the hilt of her sword tightly held in her hand.

"She is getting more and more anxious", though Atanracnad. "Could it be that she knows who I am, even though I am unfamiliar with her? She definitely seems hostile. I had best be on my guard."

Atanracnad was thankful that he had been able to transform not only his body into that of a human, but also his armour into clothes, and sword into a pen. He was not expecting to have to use them this early though, if at all.
As his human body was unsuitable for combat, he had used a spell that would cause him and his equipment to revert to it's usual form if he was struck. No damage would be inflicted by the first blow, but the transformation could cause disorientation.

Meanwhile, the seer shook. She could feel the growing hostility.

A strange and figity creature sat on the bus, gripping a pair of nunchaku tightly in his right hand. A tattered gray cloak covered his reptillian body, his tail sitting out to the side. He mutters quietly to himself in the language of his people, a harsh-sounding collection of chirps, barks, whistles and growls. He simply sits, not seeming to care about the others around him.

A strange and figity creature sat on the bus, gripping a pair of nunchaku tightly in his right hand. A tattered gray cloak covered his reptillian body, his tail sitting out to the side. He mutters quietly to himself in the language of his people, a harsh-sounding collection of chirps, barks, whistles and growls. He simply sits, not seeming to care about the others around him.

OOC: There sure are a lot of unusual characters who have happened to board the same bus!

Atanracnad thought about what Dorusceronis had told him. He had explained how a thousand year old prophecy had spoken of a human boy who would gain great psionic powers at the age of sixteen. It predicted the date of that boy's birth - just over sixteen years ago. Obviously, the boy could be a great asset to The Underground City if they could gain his allegiance.

OOC: There sure are a lot of unusual characters who have happened to board the same bus!
(ooc: yep, a little too much for my taste... I guess I'll let the rp here. I feel like my character would be worthless in here. Happy game to you all :) )

OOC: Sorry I was gone so long!

IC: The man adjusted his position. "I said," he repeated, "the weak tower trembles at the butterfly's passing. 'What's wrong?' he thought. "that was the agreed password for my Underground City contact, and he's in the right seat...do I have the wrong bus?'

"Oh, I get it", thought Atanracnad. "It's a stupid password."

Atanracnad turned around.

"I believe you have information for me. Keep it quiet. I don't think this place is safe."

Kuja stared out of the bus window....the sights of the city blank and broing to him. It was the same people, the same buildings, the same hypercricy all around him. He stared as the sights flooded past him...the slightly dirty window a lense which stood a snapshot of a story.

A mother and and child ready to cross the street, the mother instructing on how to walk safetly accross it.

A homeless man asking for change while he sat thier, with a small cop glittering with the generoisity of the passers by.

A couple laughing together, hands held, talking to each other.

All of this within seconds. Kuja sighed and stared blankly at these sights. These sights to which he was too accustomed to. Those faces..those people who constantly caused him pain. Those who would mock him, despise him yet every day they relied upon him. They leeched upon his knowledge.

He shivered and wrapped the long black jacket around him tighter to keep what little warmth he had from his delicate pale body. He sneezed and sniffed, the constant illness effecting his weak body.

Kuja Frost was a bitter man, a synical human being with very limited phychic powers, much to his frustration. He was always weak, a thin person who was constantly plagued by illness. Wearing black robes which had a modern feel to them, it had metal square things to which he used to clasp the robe together. Many called him "snake" as a child due to his manipulative nature....

With not much going for him, Kuja was not in a good mood right now, he was disillusioned with the systems and goverments around him. He had no real freinds or relatationships...he lead a rather dreary existance.

Kuja looked into the glass..and saw his own reflection. His long black hair which draped over his face, his brown eyes which where cold and precise. Overall...he had the sense of the one who sat alone at the back of a crowd, being synical and outside of it all.

The man nodded and shifted his weight. There were a few cloaked people on the bus...what were they hiding? Those with lumps on their jackets could have weapons...the man's eyes tracked across everyone on the bus, a trained paranoid. He was an experienced field agent of a country with many enemies--he was used to being careful.

The strange, muttering creature contiunes to mutter, occasionally rapping the pair of nunchku against his scaly knuckles with a sharp 'clonk' noise, striking with surprising speed. He seems to be completely mad, with his constant figiting, chanting, and clonking.

Piccolo, the Namek warrior, joins their quest. "What seems to be the problem?"

Piccolo, the Namek warrior, joins their quest. "What seems to be the problem?"

OOC: Could you please read the thread before replying? We are not having a quest. If you read you will understand what is going on. The characters here are passengers on a bus. They have never met before, and most have not yet spoken to each other at all.

"We will arrive at our stop soon", thought Atanracnad. He looked around at the other passengers. "We have a very strange selection of passengers on this bus - perhaps our operation was not as secret as we thought?"

Atanracnad looked out of the window. Road signs zoomed past, houses moving quickly behind them. There were trees in the distance gradually moving through his view. He folded his arms and waited.

Meanwhile, the seer was becoming increasingly anxious. There were strange creatures around her, she could tell. That alone was not an unusual experience for her, having lived for sixty years in a slum where one has to be on the guard for vampire attacks every night. However, the diversity of energies on the bus showed there was more to it. A great things would happen soon, great but terrible. The images haunted her mind. Pain. Anguish. Misery. She did not know what to make of it, but it worried her to no end.

Piccolo, the Namek warrior, joins their quest. "What seems to be the problem?"

OOC: Could you please read the thread before replying? We are not having a quest. If you read you will understand what is going on. The characters here are passengers on a bus. They have never met before, and most have not yet spoken to each other at all.
OOC: Oh, excuse me. (I'm sorry if that sounded sarcastic, I really meant it.)

IC: Piccolo looks around. This bus ride is taking a while...

Rynehart (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=95326&start=0&postdays=0&postorder=asc&highlight=) sat on the bus, fiddling with the lining of his suit and trying to ignore Jarboe's voice whispering gory obscenities in the back of his mind. The creature had been working at him all day and twice had nearly broken through - Rynehart was exhausted. His hands trembled as he tried to compose himself and block out the incessant whispering that carressed (sp) his mind, alternately stroking then pushing, trying to wrest control.

“I come down over you like a bloody rain cuts up flesh sky, pulse beating under meat, petals bloom in a bone garden…the lambs will come unwitting to the slaughter, and at the end I will drink the fear…at the end you will find the answer, Edward my dear…my shadow flits across your mind as the screams glance from the walls and I will…you will taste the sanguine rend the flesh…I am Jarboe and I will destroy you Edward my sweet, for I am Revenant.”

Rynehart stifled a moan - "Not here, not with so many people..." His grip tightened on the butt of his pistol. Suddenly, Jarboe fell silent, but the silence brought no relief for Rynehart - it was watchful, waiting...a silence filled with expectation. Rynehart looked up and saw a man and woman sitting near each other. Jarboe hissed softly, and as Rynehart let the barrier between them slip, his perception shifted. He could see the tension between the two...the air hummed with suppressed power. Forcing Jarboe back, Rynehart loosened his weapons and tensed his muscles. Skin flowed like oil on water, shifting into new forms. Small spikes grew from Rynehart's knuckles - small enough to be unobtrusive, but able to grow in an instant. He waited for a move to be made.

OOC: Check out the character to see if he's compatible and figure out who Jarboe is...be aware that the thread linked to above doesn't tell the whole story, just the basics. Gotta go, but if you'll have me I'll be back on tomorrow.

OOC: Oh, excuse me. (I'm sorry if that sounded sarcastic, I really meant it.)

IC: Piccolo looks around. This bus ride is taking a while...

OOC: Ok, just don't do anything over-the-top like blowing the bus up with special moves or anything - I've seen DBZ and I know what kind of stuff happens - it would ruin the story. You should concentrate on what kind of character Piccolo is - what he would be thinking as he rides the bus, what he would think about the other passengers, etc. Also, his moral views, opinions, etc.

The creature suddenly sits up, looking angrily about him. He is indeed reptillian, with a short, blunt snout and gray scales. His eyes are solid white, and a pair of ear-like fins arch backwards on the sides of his head. How the other passengers are able to tell that he is a 'he' is a mystery, they just seem to know. After a few seconds of looking about, he lowers his head again, the hood falling back into place and hiding his features. He resumes his chanting, figiting, and clonking, as if he had never moved.

OOC: I can have two characters, right? This one's the "good guy," he's on the seer's side...
IC: Justinian shivered. This bus was _cold_...didn't they have heat on these things? Not as cold as it was in Jingcrondolia, though...he had just been acclimatized to warmer temperatures in the time he had spent indoors since he escaped. Not as cold as it was in Jingcrondolia, outdoors and in men's hearts both. D*mn the government of the place! He had been forced onto the streets from birth by their abominable practices, the slums of his hometown were full of people barely scratching out a living scrounging for food in the trash of the rich...and the government did *nothing*, nothing at all. Demon creatures roamed the streets searching for blood, he had lost his mother when he was ten...now he had escaped to here. There were scarcely better laws here, but at least it was livable. The Jingcrondolian Immigration Board was after him, though. They had an agent chasing him, and he was getting uncomfortably close...
Suddenly Justinian stiffened. Holy sh*t! That was him! Here on this very bus--he had to get away...

OOC: Two characters is ok.
IC:
Atanracnad's thoughts dwelt on his past. First he thought of his earliest memories, playing with his older brother, Dorusceronis as a child.

"One day I shall rule Niogoul Maeromirpli!" he remembered Dorusceronis say.

"I will be the dictator and you shall help me! You can be my second in command!"

At the time, Atanracnad had never believed that it would actually happen. He thought Dorusceronis' grand plans would never come to fruitition.

He remembered his time later on, become frustrated at his father AdlavTsedur for giving him no say in the government despite his obvious aptitute for a range of administrative tasks.

He remembered Dorusceronis' great rage. While Atanracnad kept his discontent silent, his brother was very verbal.

"I've had enough!" said Dorusceronis. "I've just spent twenty hours in the torture chamber because our stupid father cannot take criticism!"

Atanracnad remembered their conspiracy. He remembered Dorusceronis' extensive plans to remove their father, AdlavTsedur, from rule by force. He remembered wandering the surface of many a planet in search of people sympathetic to their cause.

All this was so long ago. For six long millenia, he and his brother had governed The Underground City, and he had got used to that way of life. But now things were about to change.

Justinian wished he could cloak himself. But the reason he was being persued so fervently was for his psychic abilities. Using any in the vicinity of the person searching for him would be a huge mistake. He hunched lower in his seat and pulled his hood farther over his head, clutching the powergun under his coat.

"A reptilian, a demon, a wizard. Too many strange people inside this bus. I'm sure that I'm sitted on a timebomb", said Alessia, grasping her whipsword. "This is going to break into a fight soon".

Justinian had to go to the bathroom, badly. It was dangerous, but he had no choice...going to the bathroom on his seat would be worse. He got up carefully, keeping his hood over his head, and walked towards the back of the bus and the bathrooms. (OOC: this is a Greyhound-type bus, for long-range trips, right? So it would have bathrooms.) IC: Suddenly a person in the seat he was walking near suddenly shifted position, and their foot came down on the trailing edge of his coat, pulling it back. The hood slid back over his face, exposing his distinctive scar and flame-red hair. Armitage, the Jingcrondolian agent, saw him and started. He twitched his jacket away, showing the gun there. "You!" he hissed. "What a coincidence, to find you here, after I had already been reassigned...what a piece of luck. I'm going to get a raise for this! Don't move!" Justinian thought only one thing...'oh, crap.'

OOC: If there's going to be fighting among all these characters, one bus really isn't enough. For two, it wouldn't be enough, let alone all these. Underground City, you started this--can we make it into a multicar train, or should I have my characters not fight?

Atanracnad felt as the bus began to slow. It was reaching his stop. The bus pulled up alongside a small bus shelter with grafiti on the glass. A sign nearby read "Blackstone Town".
He turned to the seer and told her it was time to get off. They stood up and slowly made their way to the front, pretending to ignore the activities of the man who had stood up and the man who had stopped him.

The reptillian, who has no quarrel with anyone on the bus, unless they come within striking distance, begins to exit the bus. He was eager to fight, his intelligent mind knowing conflict was sure to crop up somewhere around here. He held the nunchaku tightly, keeping both ends in his right hand. The style of fighting with the weapon suited his borderline psycotic fighting style, the weapon stayed in constant motion, battering a path through whatever was foolish enough to enter its path. The lizard man, known as an Argonian in general, was of a different sub-breed, produced through magic. Had anyone asked his name, he would have replied 'Smokescale', because of his ability to disappear like smoke in the summer's breeze. He follows the others, perhaps they knew someone who needed someone's head based in. Smokescale would be happy to comply with the request.

OOC: Sorry for getting your character mixed up WA. I've edited it.
IC:

Atanracnad led the seer by the hand, though it was the seer's gift that was showing him where to go. They were heading towards a great power. The seer could feel it, and it terrified her, but she knew her family's lives were at stake. She walked on, and horrible images circled in her mind. She could see death, hear screams, feel pain.

Justinian stared. This was not a good thing. The man had a gun on him...but then the bus ground to a stop and he was thrown slightly off balance. Justinian could tell he was probably going to miss if he tried to shoot now, and if he got his aim again Justinian would be in real trouble. He acted quickly and jumped through the nearby window. Glass blew out as the windowpane shattered around him, Armitage must have better aim than he thought...but he had still missed, and Justinian was unharmed. He landed rolling and shot off through the crowd at a sprint, not noticing the man apparently leading an old woman that he elbowed aside as he went past.

Armitage growled deep in his throat. That d*mn boy, always getting away! That was the fifth time so far he had been apparently caught but then escaped. He put away the gun and shouted "All right, there's nothing to see here, go away!" He stomped off after Atanracnad in a fury. He would never be identified as a Jingcrondolian agent, but this would mean he would have to have plastic surgery. Again. That would come out of his pay...

OOC: Look, this RP is moving slowly because you can't move an RP along yourself very easily, you have to wait for the others, and everyone posts irregularly and at different times. Can we set up a time all, or at least most, of us can be here at the same time and react to each other quickly to move the story faster and keep it more interesting?

OOC: I can probably be here about 4-8 PM NationStates time on Mon-Wed and Fri, or the same but starting at 6 PM on Thurs, or at 7AM-1PM on Sat or 7:00-10:30 AM on Sun.

Oops...double posted...and now it won't let me delete...so I edited it to this.

OOC: I don't really know when I'll be on. It's unfortunate, but different people are free at different times. The RP may move slowly, but at least it does move. I have sent telegrams out as reminders.

Justinian pelted around a corner into an alley and stood there, panting. I think I lost him... he thought. That was close... He kept his gun close to hand, though, just in case. He peeked around the corner and watched a man apparently leading a blind woman approaching the alley.

Alessia waited in the bus. She knew that in the bus a fight would be displeasant. As long as nobody attacked her, she won't move a finger. 2Let's see where this bus take us", she said to herself.

Smokescale looks around hurridly, watching the exchange between the two men. 'Perhaps I should kill him? Human blood is quite tasty, as are their hearts...'

Armitage caught up to Atanracnad and the seer. "Sorry about that little...distraction," he said. "We can continue now...how close are we to this source of psychic power? Jingcrondolia would like this issue resolved to everyone's satisfaction and...quickly."

Atanracnad turned to Armitage. "We are close. I am beginning to feel the power myself."

He looked at the Seer. Once she was no longer needed here, he would send her back to The Underground City. Her limited ability was of little more use to them.

"Tell me Armitage, as I am ill-informed of the matter, how does your nation benefit from aiding us? Has Dorusceronis promised you military aid? or trade opportunities perhaps?"

Armitage answered Atanracnad's question. "Jingcrondolia could use this source of psychic energy for certain...specialized purposes. We hope to borrow it from time to time in exchange for our help in obtaining it. And Dorusceronis has promised us some highly powerful demonic weaponry." Armitage looked over and saw the bus driver, standing on the bus steps and gibbering into his cell phone. He seemed to be looking at Armitage. "Perhaps we should leave. I fear my indiscretion in attempting to capture the boy has caused this location to be...unsafe."

The Supreme Dictator, Dorusceronis YlimNeicna sat on his throne, talking with his necromantic warlords.

"So, what do you know of this psionic then?" asked Thintaedkran, the leader.

"I know that he is a human boy, soon to become a man. I know that, much like us, he will respect those who wield power."

"Ah, a useful ally then."

"Indeed. I hope he is willing to join us, otherwise we may have to employ some techniques of persuasion."

"I heard you sent a Jingcrondolian to help Atanracnad find the boy", said Legnerihes, second warlord.

"Yes. I have promised Jingcrondolia great things if they aid us. Daemonic weapons, and even if necessary, the use of the psionic...if the psionic is willing, of course."

"Let me propose a toast, gentleman", said Thintaedkran. "To the glory of The Underground City!"

"Cheers!" they said in unison, and down glasses of finest feyblood.

[doublepost]

OOC: Oh, those darn double pasts. Don't you just hate that?

Justinian stared. The man was still coming closer...but that was Armitage with him! They must be in league. And Armitage could see him in this alley! He cursed again his inability to use psychic powers near Armitage lest the slightly psionic agent sense him. He shrank back and tried to make himself as small as possible.

OOC: Oh, those darn double pasts. Don't you just hate that?

OOC: Actually there were 5 posts. I only managed to delete 3.
Also, please note that "the psionic" means the boy they are looking for.

OOC: Sorry for my lack of being here...virus on computer so it wouldn't start up :evil: . I can be on at about 4 to 7.30 pm NS time most days, but if I'm not here feel free to move my character into situations etc so there's something for me to make him respond to when I get back.

IC: Rynehart exited the bus, trailing the old woman and her guardian at a distance. Jarboe had for that brief moment diverted his energies to observing the two instead of trying to take over as he usually did. Such a change of objective was unusual for Jarboe, and Rynehart knew from experience that such interest from...well, from himself...meant something was going on, something that would draw Jarboe's attention. And anything that could divert Jarboe from his siege of Rynehart's mind had to be great indeed...

He had seen the man dive through the window of the bus (something of a surprise there), and was tempted to follow, but the palpable aura of power and danger about the woman and guardian drew him. Was it Jarboe guiding his footsteps into the shadows, to follow the unlikely pair? He couldn't tell. But follow them he did, though to what purpose he did not yet know. Wordless growls echoed through his skull, and he felt lightheaded...for the first time in months the mental battering had ceased. Jarboe was fixated on the couple ahead - his awareness had marked more beings, that reptilian creature from the bus was near, as was the woman who had been staring at the guardian....but Jarboe's gaze (awareness, homicidal stare, call it what you will) was fixed on the two ahead. His close attention meant Rynehart could almost taste the power in the air - waves of it emanated from the man ahead. Jarboe's usual attitude to strangers was instant and bloody, but here he was watchful and almost...respectful?

As Rynehart relaxed his control, Jarboe began to slip to the fore. Stealthiness was not his usual method, and Rynehart failed to notice the dark shade stealing over his mind. He slipped through the shadows, the stalker stalked, oblivious to the red mist sinking into his consciousness.

As Armitage, the man, and the woman passed by, Justinian slipped out to try and follow them. He did his best to keep hidden, although he had nothing with which to cover his flame-red hair, having left his coat on the bus.

(OOC I am very sorry but I might have to pull out of this. Getting less time of Nationstates, and I have more work to do. Sorry... :( )

(OOC I am very sorry but I might have to pull out of this. Getting less time of Nationstates, and I have more work to do. Sorry... :( )

OOC: Don't worry about it Kain. Just telegram me whenever you wanna RP.

As they neared the source of the psionic energy, the seer began to shake violently. She could no longer walk. Atanracnad let go of her arm and she slumped to the ground. At this distance, the power was now so great that Atanracnad could feel it himself.

He walked up to the house without looking back, and entered through the open door. The floor was a mess. The whole room looked like it had been ransacked.

Atanracnad could feel the power eminating from above. He climbed the stairs.

Smokescale could feel the power in the air, tempting him. He smelt the smell of human flesh and blood, sparking primal urges that most of his kin had surpressed, Smokescale's mind had left him a long time ago, and now he acted on instinct and impulse alone, a rather dangerous combination for himself and those around him.

Rynehart saw the seer fall as the man released her and went into the house. Jarboe was in a frenzy of excitement in the back of his mind - as he was not in control Rynehart was only granted a little of his vision, but even so, he could see the faint pulsating glow around the house. Rynehart could feel the presence of the other beings in the surrounding area, all converging inexorably on the house and whatever lay within. He started to move towards the fallen seer.

Rynehart's back arched, tensing like a bowstring as every muscle in his body corded and tightened. His skin rippled, sending waves of flesh across his body to form savage hooked shapes on his hands and forearms. Fingers melded and grew, flashing into razored barbs a foot long, while muscles writhed under the skin like a man in the grip of some exquisite agony. A voice whispered behind his eyes with a gleeful insanity.

"Spite will rip the flesh the blood hot and raging...the changeling creeps on you dear Edward as the tendrils writhe and mist entwines...shadow will no longer be denied, to feed the shadowed slick and sanguine tricks. I see red through the mirror of your eyes...I rise through the mirror black, the shadow despised. Vicious ambitions has this beast my sweet as the horror stalks between your will and desire...the smell of hate is fresh and bitter blood drops run like tears."

Rynehart screamed as the beast forced its way into his mind...but too late, already Jarboe had control, and the scream died before it reached the vocal cords. Rynehart's suit had moulded to fit the new body shape, and the being that now stood in the road appeared a nightmare collection of barbs, hooks, skewers and twisted blades, clad in an impeccably tailored and obviously expensive suit with sword and pistol at each hip.

Jarboe chuckled, and even in her daze the seer moaned at the sound. He leapt forward, springing over the prone psychic and into the house, following the man of power.

Justinian watched from the mouth of his alley. What the hell? he thought. Is that a monster with a suit on? Well, now I have to follow it. His lips curled back in grim smile. If only to see it rip Armitage to shreds.

Justinian watched from the mouth of his alley. What the hell? he thought. Is that a monster with a suit on? Well, now I have to follow it. His lips curled back in grim smile. If only to see it rip Armitage to shreds.

OOC: Sorry if I'm being dumb, but where's Armitage in all this? He was with the seer and the demon, and now....he's gone. I will of course quite happily try to rip him limb from limb just as soon as I know where he is :twisted: .

Justinian watched from the mouth of his alley. What the hell? he thought. Is that a monster with a suit on? Well, now I have to follow it. His lips curled back in grim smile. If only to see it rip Armitage to shreds.

OOC: Sorry if I'm being dumb, but where's Armitage in all this? He was with the seer and the demon, and now....he's gone. I will of course quite happily try to rip him limb from limb just as soon as I know where he is :twisted: .

OOC: Armitage is still with Atanracnad, but the Seer is not.

IC:
When Atanracnad reached the top of the stairs, he saw room with a faint glow coming from it. He walked over to the open doorway.

Inside was a boy. He was floating an inch above the ground in an upright position. His eyes were closed. Atanracnad looked at him for a second and then began to speak.

"Greetings. I am the Infernal Lord Atanracnad, second in command to the Supreme Dictator, Dorusceronis, of The Dominion of The Underground City. How may I address you?"

The boy open his eyes. Both the whites and the iris glowed a deep blue.

"I am Roberto", said the boy. "What do you want?"

"I have come to propose an alliance. The Underground City is offering you a seat of power. Put together, your psionic power and the might of The Underground City could conquer anything!"

"I don't need you!" said the boy, dismissively. "I can do anything I want!"

The boy reached out his hand and a blast of energy shot out, knocking Atanracnad flying into the wall. There was a fizzing noise, and Atanracnad's transformation wore off. The human he appeared to be was replaced by his true form. He tried to stand up, but bumped his head on the ceiling as the room not tall enough for his eleven-foot figure. He growled and smashed a hole through the ceiling with his fist.

"Let me ask you again", he said in a voice much deeper than before, but still quite calm. "Will you ally with The Underground City? Tell us what you want from the deal. I'm sure we can arrange anything you need."

Armitage jumped about a foot in the air. He shied back in the doorframe praying that Roberto hadn't noticed him--and that the boy wouldn't sense his presence. He would love to bolt right now, but if he didn't at least appear to help Jingcrondolia would be breaking its deal with Dorusceronis and the underground City. And Dorusceronis could have all of Jingcrondolia laid waste with a wave of his hand--he was a powerful daemon, that one. He had to stay and at least make a pretense of helping, if only to cover Jingcrondolia's--and by extension his own--ass.

Justinian slipped stealthily up the stairs after the monster. He wanted to see this.

Jarboe moved up the stairs with a grace and fluidity that seemed at odds with his size and nightmarish appearance. Rynehart was now relegated to Jarboe's usual position - a mere presence behind the eyes, the ghost in the machine, watching what happened but powerless to stop it. When Rynehart was in control Jarboe would constantly try to break through, and Rynehart was trying to do the same now. Unfortunately for him, when a fit began it ended when it ended...it was near-impossible for Rynehart to force his way back into control once Jarboe had taken over.

Jarboe flowed up the stairs and flattened himself against the wall next to the door - such stealth was unusual for him but his senses were humming with the concentration of power in the room beyond. The man who had been with the seer had almost glowed with barely-concealed energy, and Jarboe was wary of attacking him until he knew what he was up against. But in the advanced state of transformation he had little way to control the killing urge, in the way he could when only semi-shifted. He could sense two other beings in the room - another who possessed power beyond even the seer's guardian, and a third... he smelled nervous, and Jarboe felt no tingling sense of energy around the man. He grinned a razorblade smile, fangs gleaming in the low light, and the blades on his forearms twitched and writhed like a torturer's charge. A fast kill and a faster exit - the idea appealed. And should he be able to perhaps take the other two by surprise... well, things could become interesting indeed.

Jarboe slipped around the doorframe like a shadow on oil. The scene that confronted him was somewhat unexpected - the man of power was gone, replaced by a huge...thing...that towered head and shoulders above Jarboe. Rynehart screamed soundlessly - he knew of demons and the powers they could wield, and this creature was strong, more than any other he had seen. There was a small boy hovering above the floor with a petulant expression on his face - his aura of power was glowing like the sun, and even the demon regarded him with something approaching respect. And then... the prey, standing in the corner of the room and stinking of fear. None had seen Jarboe yet.

Jarboe tensed muscles to spring, but as he did so he felt another presence on the stairs behind. He paused momentarily, assessing any possible threat before deciding the being was weak - it posed no danger. He crouched and leapt towards Armitage, whipping through the air with his arm-blades extended and reaching for the throat.

Roberto could feel Jarboe's malevolence. He could feel his intent...motion, violent motion. Then came the motion. With lightning speed Jarboe was away. What was this being? Why was it moving so fast? Roberto reached out with his mind, and ensnared Jarboe in his psionic grip. He shall not move unless I will it.
Roberto tried to read the being's mind, but the thoughts of violence were blinding. All he could discern was the being's name. Jarboe...

"Jarboe", said Roberto. "What are you doing?"

OOC: Summary for a poor RP'er seeking a new thread?

OOC: Summary for a poor RP'er seeking a new thread?

Ok, a psychic woman known as "the seer" was used by The Underground City's daemonic government to locate a great source of power prophesised about millenia ago. Atanracnad YlimNeicna, brother of the dicator, and Armitage, and Jingcrondolian ally have located the source of the power, a 16 year old boy with great psionic abilities. There are also other characters involved, each with their own agenda.

Sounds a bit weird, but it's good if you read it properly.

OOC: Oooookay... where exactly could I fit into this mish-mash?

OOC: Oooookay... where exactly could I fit into this mish-mash?

Be a townsperson? You really ought to read the thread.

Grimzag's mission had long since been abandoned. First the chopper crash, then the town full of vampires (OOC: Another thread completely, don't worry about it), then the jungle... he hoped he'd be able to find his way home from this place...

But he realised he'd be picked up by the authorities very quickly, in the state he was in; his shirt had large claw marks down it and was drenched in blood, his military leather jacket was being held together by a few pieces of fabric and he was carrying two massive pistols in his hands.

Roberto could feel Jarboe's malevolence. He could feel his intent...motion, violent motion. Then came the motion. With lightning speed Jarboe was away. What was this being? Why was it moving so fast? Roberto reached out with his mind, and ensnared Jarboe in his psionic grip. He shall not move unless I will it.
Roberto tried to read the being's mind, but the thoughts of violence were blinding. All he could discern was the being's name. Jarboe...

"Jarboe", said Roberto. "What are you doing?"

Jarboe flowed through the air, a blade through ethereal flesh, a serrated edge grasping for the throat. He was bare inches away from Armitage, who was still unaware of his presence, when he stopped. Rather he was stopped - frozen in mid-air, a hanging tableau of barb and claw. The voice entered his mind without passing through the ears.

"Jarboe, what are you doing?"

Rynehart reached up towards the voice from the screaming inhuman frenzy of Jarboe's consciousness, grasping for a straw in the sea of insanity. If he could just regain control, perhaps he could... But the shadows swept over him, grasped his ankle and pulled him under, the crimson tides closing over his head. He fought for his sanity as the hellish maelstrom whirled and twisted, battering at his consciousness. His mental screams died under the bloody onslaught of Jarboe and he sank, cries lost.

Jarboe grinned. The grin didn't translate physically - his entire body was held firm by the boy's grip - but the sheer malevolence emanating from him conveyed the message well enough. An intelligence began to emerge from the fury, rising from Jarboe's basic state. The boy sensed the change, and Jarboe felt his attention sharpen.

"Oh my sweet sweet boy... do you hear us? We hear you but do you hear? Do you hear the screaming, the sound of blade on in through flesh, the cries of the red mouth in the throat? Do you see? Do you see the blades moving the hatred rending the bodies stretched on the wall? How we loved those maps of blood and flesh, the gore-flower fading falling dying, flesh crawls in a cage of screaming flame... Ferire suus persicum cutis... do you recall the nightmare dreams as our dear Edward? The beast sleeps in the realm behind the eyes as the shadows form... the disease needs daylight my child and food, and food it shall have... the hunger fills it fills all."

The intelligence subsided into the shattering carmine void of Jarboe, and the creature hung there in space, an opium nightmare of barb and claw frozen in stasis, waiting for the next move.

Roberto spoke again.

"I can hear you, but I am surprised that you can hear me, that my words do not drown in the sea of malevolence that is your mind. Tell me, Jarboe, have you reason at all? or are you a slave to your destructive emotions?"

The pain in Grimzag's chest from the gash was getting ever more closer to unbearable.

"Help... me..." He growled as he staggered along.

Roberto spoke again.

"I can hear you, but I am surprised that you can hear me, that my words do not drown in the sea of malevolence that is your mind. Tell me, Jarboe, have you reason at all? or are you a slave to your destructive emotions?"

The sentience rose from the waters again, speaking as it did so. As it emerged further from the tumult of Jarboe's mind, so the voice and language became clearer. The words changed from incoherent shrieks about death and murder to something approaching intellect.

"Reason? Have I reason, my pet? Have I a motive? No, no, but of course this is lacking of course you cannot see of course... I do not destroy, dear boy, oh no - for destruction implies a cessation of existence, and those whom I free from their imprisonment still live... they still cling here on this wretched plane, in this wretched body, until I too become free and release them... imprisonment, you ask? Meus carus amicus, am I not imprisoned? - chained in this body with this pathetic mewling infant; unable to comprehend the magnitude of my task he tries to suppress me, but I shall not be denied...violence is the means and violence is the end... leto, crucio, trunco... they will be freed and I shall rise from this shell... "

Jarboe's voice had slowly descended to a growl, and the images of torment and pain began to swell up in Roberto's mind once more. The sentience sank back beneath the surface of whatever bloody chaos passed for Jarboe's mind, and the voice ceased.

"Tell me, Atanracnad", said Roberto. "Are you aware that there is a strange being nearby, outside of this room? It's mind is chaos. It's only desire violence. It is trying to kill that weakling you have brought with you."

"Is that so?" replied Atanracnad, drawing his sword. "I may have to dispose of this being."

"No, Atanracnad. He could be useful to us. He is certainly an efficient killer."

"Us? So you do mean to ally?"

"I do. But Jarboe cannot be persuaded. We will have to apply force to have him do our will. I have him in my grip as we speak. Tell me, how does one travel to The Underground City?"

"Through a portal of daemonic magick, but not here. It would draw too much attention to us. We have to make our way to a safe site. Follow me."

In his true form, human stairs were no longer useful to Atanracnad, so he smashed out a nearby window, and jumped through, taking several bricks with him. Roberto followed, dragging Jarboe and Armitage with him in his psionic grip.

OOC: If this is a little too R-rated :twisted: then TG me and I'll edit it. If you think it's OK to keep in, might wanna put a warning on the thread title? Or would that be too nannyish?

A rush of fear tore through Rynehart as Jarboe was dragged through the window after the boy and the demon. "We will have to apply force..?" Rynehart had no idea what would happen to Jarboe should these two try to coerce him into working... killing for them. Jarboe would be happy, if such a word could be applied to such a thing, to inflict random acts of violence - more than happy, as they seemed to be the purpose of his existence - but there was little chance he would kill according to another's will and direction. Rynehart had no idea if inflicting pain on Jarboe would alter his mindset in any shape or form - the beast revelled in brutality and torture, as Rynehart's dreams attested.

It was incorrect to call them dreams; more of a flashback through cut-and-pasted scenes of horror... bodies peeled like rotten fruit and staked to walls outside nightclubs... destitutes crucified on telegraph poles, tied with ropes of gore and flesh from some other victim. The whores were the worst. Jarboe held some special affection for them, working almost delicately with fine razored talons for hours on end... and then the fit would leave him and Rynehart would come to, finding himself covered in the crimson residue of these lethal artworks, and a sculpture before him. One of blood and flesh, changed and altered and cut to fit some monstrous ideal of beauty, cosmetic surgery taken to a psychotic extreme and the surgeon laughing all the while behind his eyes... swirls of carmine painting the walls, abstract, and sometimes a message left.

THEY ARE THE LAMBS, I AM THE SLAUGHTER. JARBOE

It seemed to be a favourite of his.

Rynehart tried again to reach Roberto's mind but even as he did so, he pulled up short. The boy had just declared his intention to ally with the demon, and would find Jarboe useful. Therefore, Rynehart - or rather, Rynehart's consciousness - would be expendable. If he was detected, Rynehart had no doubt the boy was possessed of sufficient power to pluck his mind from his skull, leaving Jarboe in sole command to fulfil whatever needs this child had. And worse, what should happen if the fit ended? Jarboe would sink back to where he normally resided, a festering, bubbling pool of malice polluting the outer edges of Rynehart's mind... and Rynehart would be back. Exposed. If that happened while he was still in the presence of the demon or the boy, death would come soon after. He had to wait; wait until these two had left him, then hope for the fit to cease. He still had his sword and pistol - he could sense the faint aura of puissance around them. If he got the chance...

But meanwhile, he would wait. Wait and see what turn of events lay before him. He had much to think about... Jarboe's semi-coherent explanation of why he did what he did had intrigued Rynehart, all the more so for being a complete revelation. So there was a purpose, some form of ulterior motive behind this orgy of blood and pain... some reason for what Jarboe did, the atrocities and the screams. But to think that the victims'...souls?...resided in here, with him...

Rynehart sank back beneath the storm of Jarboe and watched, waiting to see what events would unfold.

OOC: Not too R-rated for me. Don't know how other readers will feel.

Atanracnad walked on. Though his steps were graceful, his sheer weight still made a stomping sound with each pace. Soon he reached the place where the seer lay. She now seemed unconscious. He picked her up with his free hand, and carried on.

Roberto floated along behind, with Armitage floating at one side of him, and Jarboe at the other. Roberto had given up on trying to read Jarboe's mind. His telepathy was limited, nowhere near as good as his telekinesis, and Roberto could not see through the images of violence.

The Seer, however, could. She was not unconscious, merely pretending. She knew that trying to escape would have been pointless. An old blind woman wandering in an unknown town would not get far. Though Jarboe's thoughts gave her untold horror, she could see through them, with difficulty. There were other souls in there, including a man...a man called Rynehart.

"Rynehart", she spoke into his mind. She too, was not an expert telepath - prophecy was her talent, but she could read minds and speak into them much better than Roberto could. "Rynehart, can you hear me? My name is Marietta, but I am called The Seer."

IC: Justinian breathed again, hiding in the closet by the hall. He had ducked in there when he had heard the assorted people in the upper room coming down, trying to hide. The shock of psychic power had nearly knocked him out. Armitage was only the slightest bit psionic, but there had been an incredible wave of malevolence from the hellish monstrosity that had actually caused him to regret wanting the monster to attack the agent. And that boy-- he could scarcely believe the incredible power radiating from him. He had to see where they were going--how could Armitage and the creature be floating like that? And why had the power wave and vision come, not from the hall, but through the outside wall...?

Rynehart heard muttered echoes through the black noise of Jarboe's thoughts, fragments of words and phrase that spelt his name. He rose cautiously, ready to duck back into the depths of consciousness should it prove to be the boy, attempting to lure him out.

"Rynehart, can you hear me? My name is Marietta, but I am called The Seer."

He was confused for a second. The Seer? Where was she involved in this? He was sure there had been no-one else in the room... Then he remembered the old woman who had been with the demon-man, left outside the house like a bundle of rags. Jarboe had ignored her on the way in, drawn by the aura of power around the house. Her voice was blurred - Rynehart heard her words as if through a veil of static - but he could make out what she was saying. How she was able to communicate in this way without being detected by the demon or the boy he did not know, but he resolved to take advantage while he could. Jarboe's attention was understandably elsewhere - being pulled through the air by an evil sixteen-year-old floating a foot off the ground tends to do that - and Rynehart 'spoke' back to her, this Marietta woman. He had no skill at telepathy, but assumed she would be able to hear him.

"Seer? Do you know what's happening? Where are they taking us? What the bloody hell is going on here!"

The Seer heard Rynehart's words, though only just.

"The daemon - he is the brother of The Underground City's dictator. This boy...his appearance was prophecised millenia ago...I was used to locate him for them...or they would hurt my family...."

Suddenly Atanracnad stopped. Something had changed. He had reached a suitable location to open the portal, but something was...wrong. The barrier that prevented entry into Niogoul Maeromirpli - it wasn't there any more. This could only mean some serious problem had occurred in The Underground City. It would not be safe to go back there.

"Roberto", said Atanracnad. "There is a problem. The Underground City is no longer safe. We must locate Dorusceronis immediately and speak with him."

The Seer could feel it. A wave of destruction had hit The Underground City. Millions of daemons had been slain, but the human population, including her family, was safe.

"I will prepare a magickal spell to locate Dorusceronis", said Atanracnad.

OOC: Could you possibly give me a small description of where we are at this point so I can jump in? ^_^ Thankies. I don't want to read through all the posts before this point because my character isn't going to know what's going on. At least, not what's going on here, she'll know stuff about other things ... =P

Well, Atanracnad, brother to the evil dictator to the Underground City, kidnapped an innocent human seer to make her help him find a psychic boy. On the bus to where the boy was, Atanracnad met his Jingcrondolian contact, and agent sent to help him find the seer (one of my characters :) ). There were a bunch of other weird people on the bus with their own agendas, too. Then they got there, they all got out, and Atanracnad and Armitage (the Jingcrondolian agent) went to find the seer, followed by some (but not all) of the other characters. They found him, he was hostile at first, but then agreed to come with Atanracnad when he revealed his true demon form. Then a monster attacked, but the psychic froze him and Armitage in place and is now carrying them around. They left the building and have now...well, read the last couple posts.

Well, Atanracnad, brother to the evil dictator to the Underground City, kidnapped an innocent human seer to make her help him find a psychic boy. On the bus to where the boy was, Atanracnad met his Jingcrondolian contact, and agent sent to help him find the seer (one of my characters :) ). There were a bunch of other weird people on the bus with their own agendas, too. Then they got there, they all got out, and Atanracnad and Armitage (the Jingcrondolian agent) went to find the seer, followed by some (but not all) of the other characters. They found him, he was hostile at first, but then agreed to come with Atanracnad when he revealed his true demon form. Then a monster attacked, but the psychic froze him and Armitage in place and is now carrying them around. They left the building and have now...well, read the last couple posts.

OOC: She wasn't exactly kidnapped as such - she was forced by threats to her family's safety - she and her family were slaves in The Underground City. For explanation of why The Underground City is not safe to return to, look here (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=98926&start=0&postdays=0&postorder=asc&highlight=).

OOC: Corrected ... xD

IC: Ranawhin Tel'Shae (a quarter drow/quarter fallen angel/half elf) climbed out from a hollow tree trunk and brushed off her dress. She had a left nostril-piercing with a silver chain linking it to the hoop at the tip of her long ear. She looked around curiously with her silver eyes, brushing red curls from her face and binding the thigh-length hair into two long, tight braids. As she did so, she saw a red daemon carrying what partially resembled an old woman, though she couldn't tell from this distance if her eyes were deceiving her. Rana remembered hiding from those storming the underground city in that tree trunk after noticing them. She had felt a strong sense of malevolence earlier in the day as she came from the city to go along on her errands, and soon after returning, cast her way out of the city and hid in the tree trunk. The bloodbath still remained fresh in her mind, and there were a few traces of daemonic blood on her clothes.
She put those memories aside as she moved towards the daemon, curious to see what he was carrying and who the floating ones with him were.

"I wouldn't suggest visiting the city," she said with a quirky smile and a thumb thrust in the general direction she'd come from as she paced towards the group. She soon stopped walking as she adjusted to the light of day and realized who she was speaking to.

"My Lord Atanracnad?" She said under her breath, bringing a hand to her lips and lowering her eyes.

"Please forgive my rudeness. I didn't recognize you, I'd been hiding in the dark." She said with a bow of her head.

OOC: It would be a bit hard not to recognise Atanracnad, as he is now in daemon form. Here is a picture of him (drawn badly by me):

http://img.villagephotos.com/p/2003-12/518174/Atanracnad.JPG

Also, you can't point to The Underground City. It is travelled to by magickal portal.

OOC: It would be a bit hard not to recognise Atanracnad, as he is now in daemon form. Here is a picture of him (drawn badly by me):

http://img.villagephotos.com/p/2003-12/518174/Atanracnad.JPG

Also, you can't point to The Underground City. It is travelled to by magickal portal.

OOC: whoopsie ... I'll make an adjustment to my previous post then ... thank goodness for being able to edit your posts ^_^

Atanracnad listened as Ranawhin recounted the events that had taken place in The Underground City, and was horrified.

"How could this happen? The security was impeccable! I must hurry and locate Dorusceronis!"

"Perhaps this is my chance to prove myself?" said Roberto. "If you need any more proof, that is. I could help you reclaim your lost nation."

"Your help would be greatly appreciated", said Atanracnad, "but before we make any moves of that nature, we must locate Dorusceronis."

Atanracnad began to recite the incantation of a spell he had memorised. After doing so, he stood, motionless for several minutes before announcing that he knew Dorusceronis' location and would open a portal to take them there.
With some more magickal procedures, a portal was opened.

"Everybody, enter the portal."

OOC: Character picture (Roberto): http://img.villagephotos.com/p/2003-12/518174/Roberto.JPG

She looked to the Seer, who was still pretending to be unconscious, and smiled as she could sense she wasn't. --Pretending will only get you so far-- Rana cooed into the Seer's mind. Rana's only psionic power is empathy/telepathy, so it was easy for the Seer to hear her. She could probably also feel that Rana meant no harm. She almost seemed helpful.

"Everybody, enter the portal." Atanracnad says, interupting Rana's concentration on questioning the old woman.

"Yes, my Lord." Rana stated, and was the first to step into the portal. She may not be very evil, but anyone could tell she was the most loyal of servants anyone could ask for.

Ranawhin Tel'Shae (a third drow/third elf/third fallen angel) climbed...

OOC: How can you be a third something? Half, yes...one parent. Quarter, yes...one grandparent, or 3/4, three grandparents. But unless you had three parents or something, you couldn't be a fraction with an odd denominator anything, right?

Justinian walked out the door, looking around. He couldn't see the whole group of bizarre impossible creatures anywhere...but the boy left psychic traces so strong it was hard not to follow them. he headed off after them just in time to see a portal open. He had to follow--and Armitage didn't look in a place to notice him...he cloaked and walked up to them, keeping his escape route open in case the incredibly psychic boy or the being who just walked up could sense them.

Ranawhin Tel'Shae (a third drow/third elf/third fallen angel) climbed...

OOC: How can you be a third something? Half, yes...one parent. Quarter, yes...one grandparent, or 3/4, three grandparents. But unless you had three parents or something, you couldn't be a fraction with an odd denominator anything, right?

OOC: one parent was half drow, half fallen angel ... the other was elven ... that makes her half, quarter, quarter then? I wasn't paying attention to the math of it, I just wanted to say she was those three things ... aw well ... my bad ... xD

IC: Rana was already through the portal, following orders as was her nature, lucky for him. If she hadn't have stepped through then, and had lingered to try to conduct a mental conversation with the Seer, she would have most certainly sensed the cloaked man's presence, not to mention heard him because of her humungous (sp?) ears.

The Seer heard Rynehart's words, though only just.

"The daemon - he is the brother of The Underground City's dictator. This boy...his appearance was prophecied millenia ago...I was used to locate him for them...or they would hurt my family...."

Suddenly Atanracnad stopped. Something had changed. He had reached a suitable location to open the portal, but something was...wrong. The barrier that prevented entry into Niogoul Maeromirpli - it wasn't there any more. This could only mean some serious problem had occurred in The Underground City. It would not be safe to go back there.

"Roberto", said Atanracnad. "There is a problem. The Underground City is no longer safe. We must locate Dorusceronis immediately and speak with him."

The Seer could feel it. A wave of destruction had hit The Underground City. Millions of daemons had been slain, but the human population, including her family, was safe.

"I will prepare a magickal spell to locate Dorusceronis", said Atanracnad.

Rynehart considered this new information. He had heard of the Underground City, but only as a rumour... a nation of dark beings rejected from other, more conservative nations. The place was supposed to be ruled by a demon, a dragon, or a secret cabal of businessmen and politicians, depending on which bar you heard the story in. If they had sent the brother of the... dictator, had she said..? this boy must be important for some project or purpose - something involving the use of large amounts of psychic power. Jarboe had stopped his attempts at movement and was glaring at a new arrival. As she recounted her news the others seemed stricken... Rynehart couldn't have cared less. His priority was to get back in control and then get the hell out of this situation, but as they moved towards the portal it was clear he would have to tag along for a little while longer. As they walked... or floated, in Jarboe's case... Rynehart felt Jarboe's attention shift behind them. A low growl emanated from Jarboe's vocal cords... he knew someone was there, he could see the movement in the dust on the ground - small patches were puffing up and settling as whatever-it-was walked, following the group. But he could not hear it, see it or sense it at all... unusual for him, unusual indeed. Then Jarboe entered the portal, and the world changed.

OOC: When you say Justinian is cloaked, what do you mean? I've taken it to mean he can't be seen or heard, and Jarboe's 'sixth sense' can't pick him up either. You've said it's possible for him to be detected by a psychic, and Aystha says her character would have heard him.

OOC: Yep...it's a psychic projection that basically tells everyone in the vicinity "I'm not here, don't look at me." It can be beaten w/the right sort of psychic powers or extreme force of will.

Double post

Passing through the portal, the group found themselves in a barren wasteland. Around them there was only sand and rocks, grey and dull. Ahead, Atanracnad spotted his brother, standing with Legnerihes, a necromantic warlord in their service. He ran over, followed by the rest of the group.

"Dorusceronis! What has happened?"

"The Underground City was attacked. Somehow a group of heavily armed and armoured humans appeared in the city, and began to destroy - no-one but humans were spared. Daemons, vampires, even our new orcish friends were slain. I do not know where the rest of the survivors are."

Dorusceronis looked down, and paused. He raised his head again slowly.

"Even our Thintaedkran was slain."

Atanracnad was so shocked he almost dropped his sword.

"What? Thintaedkran? How...?"

Legnerihes spoke up.

"My sworn brother, my leader, was slain by an enchanted blade, thrust through his back, while his attention was elsewhere. I have had my revenge, but my mind still writhes with sorrow at his loss. These 'holy' warriors must be destroyed. I will personally see their leader tortured for a thousand years for what he has done to our nation, our people, and to Thintaedkran."

"Perhaps I can help", said Roberto. "My name is Roberto. With me at your side, you enemies will know true agony."

"Ah", exclaimed Dorusceronis. "So, you are the psionic. Excellent. You have made a good decision in allying with us."

He then turned to face Atanracnad.

"We must make moves to reclaim the city as soon as possible. The battle will not be easy. Many of our daemonic troops were slain in the invasion. We shall be relying heavily on whatever skeletal warriors Legnerihes can conjure up. We will also require international assistance if we are to stand a chance. The question of how to contact them, however, I cannot answer at this point....Who are this guest you have brought?"

"This creature", said Atanracnad, pointing to Jarboe, "is something that tried to attack Armitage. Roberto has ensnared it, because we feel it could be useful."

"As a warrior?"

"Not quite. I do not believe it has the ability or desire to discriminate between our friends and foes. We shall simply deploy it in an enemy area, and after it has finished, collect it again."

OOC: Rana is gonna seem really strange in this post because I'm trying to slowly let you all in on some things about her that will help you understand some things she'll do later in the story. She's kind of a borderline sociopath, if you know what I mean. She does what she's told, and is very loyal, and sometimes can even seem normal! But even though she's just as smart and talented in many aspects of life as anyone else, her psychic abilities developed so early in life that the telepathy/empathy left her rather insane. But she's a calm insane, a lovable insane. She just doesn't work within the realm of reason sometimes. I ... hope that won't bother y'all ... :wink: ... much ... I promise she won't do anything completely off the wall ... just little things ... :)

IC: Rana stepped forth and gave a bow from her waist to Dorusceronis, performing all the flare and grace of her arms that she would if she had come to him in his court on a perfectly normal day. Smiling as if overjoyed that he was alright, those with psychic powers would be able to sense it was definitely a mask. A mask to what, though? It was hard to tell. She seemed almost emotionless as she spoke, but her face was contorted in the expressions anyone would have with what she spoke.

"My Lord, Dorusceronis ... I am glad to see you have escaped with your life and these fine but few men you have here ... and I am sorry that I could not have warned you of the attack. I sensed it but did not trust myself enough to pay heed ... I assume that those of my race were killed as well in the assault ..." She said with no change in emotion, but her face did seem to look concerned.

After saying her piece, Rana obediently stepped back behind Atanracnad where she was standing before, her hands clasped before her, her left ear twitching slighly with a jingle of the chain between it and her left nostril. She had a small smile on her face now, seeming to be off in her own little world that only those hazel eyes of hers could perceive. Perhaps she was going through shock, perhaps she was always this way, not many could tell. She's a strange one, she is.

Dorusceronis looked at Ranawhin.

"All high-ranking citizens were slain", he said, solemnly. "Human, elf, it did not matter. Only the slaves were spared. I heard the invaders telling the slaves that they were free, but whether this was true, I do not know."

"My Lord", said Legnerihes. "We must find the rest of our people. We cannot rely on locating spells, as this would use too much mana, and we do not even know who survived. Logic must be employed. Where would they be?"

"They probably teleported to the nearest uninhabited realm, like we did. But that doesn't narrow it down much. There are many realms they could be in, and I have not committed them all to memory. The details were stored in our library, but that is destroyed now, and the books probably burned to cinders."

"I have committed the details of many nearby realms to memory", said Atanracnad. "Not all, but quite a number. We should send out scouts into the realms to locate our people."

"Yes", Dorusceronis agreed. "Legnerihes! Prepare some scouts, then send them to the realms Atanracnad tells you."

"Yes, my lord", Legnerihes said, turning to find the few troops that had followed them.

OOC: So we're a CO-RP now? Ummm...what does that mean? Closed? Character Only? Anyway, I just reread the thread, and some of the people posting here are some pretty good writers...so here's my idea. I'm active on an awesome site called Fictionpress.com. Anyone who wants to can write a story and post it there. I've written some (mediocre) stuff there...but here's the idea. I'd like to copy and paste this thread wholesale into a Word document, chop out all the OOC posts and writer names and etc., and make it a story. I'll make a foreword explaining how it started life as an RP, and and appendix with who RPs which character, so that anyone who posts here can give credit where credit is due. Anyone who doesn't agree, I'll take out their posts, and if the resulting document after these changes just doesn't work, I'll scrap the idea...who agrees?

Justinian had come through the portal and heard these goings-on. Hmmmm... he thought. Their realm is under attack? And this psychic is helping them? This could get interesting...and bad...that psychic is powerful. They could go on to conquer the world!

OOC: CO-RP means Character Orientated (i.e. the military operations themselves will take place in a different thread). The main reason I changed it was because I thought at 6 pages, it was a bit late to still have 'open' in the title, and then I realised I should have marked it as a CO-RP all along.

Also, the realm is not under attack. There's no people left to attack, as they've all been killed or driven out.

The RP would require more than just the removal of OOC posts to make a story. It would need re-writing to link it together, and not include irrelevant bits.

Click here to see my CO-RP forum. (http://www.bbfree.com/shadowrp/)

OOC: I could do the rewriting...or you could, or anybody else! I would post the finished product, so everyone could see it before I posted it. It could work! Come on! Please?

Double post

OOC: I wouldn't mind it at all, Justinian guy. That'd be cool. I've always wanted to write stories anyway, I just can never get it to work for me.

OOC: I could do the rewriting...or you could, or anybody else! I would post the finished product, so everyone could see it before I posted it. It could work! Come on! Please?

OOC: As long as you kept an incomplete version of it on the web where we can all see it, and give comments and suggestions, it would be ok. Once everybody is satisfied with it, you could submit it as the final version.

Also, I would be able to do the re-writing, or at least part of it (though I'd be happy to do all if I have the time).

I'd be willing to do some rewriting as well, if needed. You'd probably have to change some of the posts a little to make it flow better, and include the information given in the OOC posts. But it sounds like a really good idea :D

OOC: And I can be the editor!! :D Or one of the editors ... I always get the best grades in my college english class, and ... actually, that's it. When we get the story all done as everyone agrees to, I can go through it and make tiny changes like swapping words if they're used too often and rearranging a few awkward sentences, things like that ... without changing the story we all agreed upon. Whatcha think? :wink: I'd be like, the last one to look over the story to make sure everythings in order. :twisted:

OOC: If we want to make a story of this, we'd better finish the thing, so stop oocing and get RPing!

"This creature", said Atanracnad, pointing to Jarboe, "is something that tried to attack Armitage. Roberto has ensnared it, because we feel it could be useful."

"As a warrior?"

"Not quite. I do not believe it has the ability or desire to discriminate between our friends and foes. We shall simply deploy it in an enemy area, and after it has finished, collect it again."

Jarboe grinned inwardly, and the subsequent upwelling of violence from his mind made Roberto start and glare at him. Jarboe was fiercely intelligent, and this combined with his singleminded lust for violence was what made him such an unholy terror to anyone he encountered - if they released him to kill, then he would kill. The implied insult of being 'deployed' like a piece of equipment had not been lost on Jarboe, but he cared little - what did it matter if they saw him as a mere killing machine? He had a mission, and the fewer who knew of it the better - fewer people knowing meant fewer people slowing him down. And this talk of 'collecting him' when their bloodlust was sated... well, he'd have to see about that. He could kill far more on his own than he could if used by these beings as a weapon... but he would let them take him for now, and deliver him to all those souls waiting to be freed... yes... the souls...

Rynehart heard the demon's plans from his hiding place beneath the bloody tides of thought in Jarboe's skull, and grinned. His thoughts were running - for once - along similar lines to Jarboe's, albeit with a few crucial differences. If they released him into the war zone, no doubt Jarboe would rampage around killing as was his wont. But it had been nearly ten hours since the fit... since Jarboe's takeover... and to the best of Rynehart's knowledge none of his fits had ever lasted longer than thirteen or fourteen hours. So, in a few hours he, Rynehart, would be back in control of his body and Jarboe would be back where he belonged, skulking behind the eyeballs. If the change occurred when Jarboe was still in the presence of these demons and their allies, then Rynehart would be revealed... he did not know what they would do to him should they find out who or what he was. But if the shift were to happen when he was 'in the field', so to speak, then he would be able to run and hide until they had ceased looking for him - as he suspected they would - before finding a way offplanet. Admittedly he might be shifting in the middle of a war zone, but he was a very capable fighter - especially when able to use his sword and pistol, an ability he lacked while Jarboe was in control. This was perhaps something of a blessing, the fact that Jarboe was unable to utilise any external weaponry - Rynehart hated to think what would happen should Jarboe ever decide to pick up an assault rifle or a grenade launcher...

Rynehart sank back further into Jarboe's mind and waited. As the fit drew near its end, Jarboe's hold on his mind would become weaker... he estimated that in two hours he would be able to retake his body by force. But if he held on 'til the fit reached its natural end, he would have an opportunity to get further away from the demon and the boy - he had little doubt they would be able to detect him and bring him in if he was close enough. He would wait for his moment, and then strike.

Rana is gonna seem really strange in this post <snip> She just doesn't work within the realm of reason sometimes. I ... hope that won't bother y'all

OOC: :lol: We seem to be a rather strange group anyway... at one point we had myself, a nunchaku-wielding lizardman and God-only-knows how many secret agents all ready to atomise each other on a public bus whilst in pursuit of an old woman and a demon dressed as an accountant... and Rynehart has an evil soul-collecting alter ego in the back of his head that talks like Evil Yoda's stream of consciousness. I don't think calm lovable insanity should bother anyone too much :D .

"We could use this Jarboe to help us reclaim the city", said Dorusceronis. "But we will need to test it first, to see what it can do."

Atanracnad looked up after thinking for a moment.

"Before we know how powerful it is, we had better keep it in Roberto's psionic ensnare, lest it overwhelms whatever means we use to try and hold it."

"Indeed", agreed Roberto. "But I cannot hold it indefinitely. Like all men I must sleep, and my psionic influence disappears when I do."

The seer was horrified by the idea of The Underground City going once more into the hands of the YlimNeicna. She and her family would be put back into slavery, unless they managed to escape.

Evil Yoda's stream of consciousness

OOC: Nice phrase!
IC: Justinian had had enough of waiting and watching. These were obviously an evil bunch...he would be doing the world a service. And Jingcrondolia a disservice, which he was always up for. He drew his powergun and got into a good position, ready to uncloak...but waited. Who to shoot? The demon might well not be affected, not without alpha-striking and spending all his psychic powers on one shot...thereby knocking himself out. Same for the psionic, since the powergun fired psychic energy that would be more likely to strengthen him than hurt him. Besides, that would release Armitage and the beast, obviously not a good idea. He would have to incapacitate the psychic first, though, or risk being frozen himself...what to do...?

Armitage struggled against the field. Why was this man holding him here? Roberyto was on the Underground City's side, and he was on the Underground City's side, therefore he was allied with the psionic, right? Why was he still trapped?

Roberto felt Armitage's discomfort and put him down carefully. He had almost forgotten he was there, with his attention focussed on the montrous Jarboe.

"I feel something", said Roberto. "Though my senses are distracted greatly by holding this Jarboe, I can feel an uninvited guest...somewhere...nearby."

The seer too could feel Justinian's presence, and tell where he was. She called out to him.

Justinian...please help me...you must rescue my family from The Underground City...before these daemons go there...if you can distract Atanracnad...make him release me...I will lead you there...be careful...these are powerful beings around...you could not defeat them.

OOC: OK, I made another thread for us to do rewriting in.

http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=2289045#2289045

Ranawhin snapped back to reality as she heard the Seer transmitting thoughts to some man named Justinian. Who was this Justinian? Rana turned and awakened all her psychic powers to full, her eyes going pure white for a moment, then back to normal as she blinked. She ignored the words of the others, her focus unwaivering.

"I feel him ..." she whispered, her eyes scanning a twenty-foot span of earth she knew the man was hiding in. She couldn't pinpoint him, but she knew he was there, so she called to him mentally.

Justinian ... you are shrewd, I didn't hear you approach ... you've come to harm us, haven't you? To harm me first of all, I can see. I'm afraid I can't allow that ... if you try anything, I'll point you out to my masters. Move wherever you like, as long as your mind tells your foot to move or your breath to be quiet, I'll hear where you are.

Rana's eyes flashed white again, then returned to normal. She wondered why family was so important to the Seer, never having cared much for her own. Her job was her life, her family, her happiness. Nothing was more important. She'd left her home region years before and had no intention of returning. She was respected here, not feared. She toyed with the idea of telling on Justinian just for the fun of it, and quirked a smile, but simply turned back to where she was looking before. She wanted to have fun first, using the thoughts she'd picked up from him.

"The intruder is no real threat." she said loud enough for all to hear. "He wishes to save the Seer, do we still need her? Perhaps if we let her go he'll be on his merry way." She added.

"The intruder is no real threat." said Ranwhin. "He wishes to save the Seer, do we still need her? Perhaps if we let her go he'll be on his merry way."

Dorusceronis considered this.

"Yes, now that we have Roberto, our needs for her are small...and she has become somewhat of a security risk...set her free then."

Atanracnad put the seer down and she backed away slowly, watching them with every step.

Ranawhin smiled as the Seer stepped slowly away from them. She turned to her and gave a fancy bow of her head, a hand weaving from her forehead to her waist, then outwards in a sweeping motion.

It was good to have finally met you, Seer. I hope you enjoy your freedom and find your family well with you return. I rather wonder why you care for them so much, they shall die eventually, but that is the difference between us.

Rana's thoughts seemed to be the only things about her that truly had substance and gave off the essence of genuine emotion. After bidding farewell to the old woman, she turned her eyes to Justinian's direction.

I hope it pleases you to know we aren't as evil as you may have thought. Enjoy what little time you have before the reclaiming of the city. You may warn the troops there if you wish, it will not matter much.

Rana then turned back to Dorusceronis, Atanracnad, and the others without one word spoken. She waited for Justinian's response, but somehow already knew what the answer would be and smiled in delight of it.

OOC: that dun mean Justinian has to leave, she's insane, she might like the idea of getting zapped xD

Justinian took a deep breath. Now that that bloody elf or whatever she was--Justinian couldn't tell--had exposed him, coming out with all gund blazing would be useless--he would have to take the seer and go. He would try to head them off later...he could find this realm again if he had to, he was good at plane-hopping. He uncloaked with his powergun back in its holster and his hands carefully by his sides. He walked over to the seer and took her arm, then lead her carefully to the magickal worldgate. Armitage turned purple. "You--" he hissed. "You little piece of sh*t! How did you follow us!"
"Tell you later," Justinian said grimly. "Come on, er...what's your name? Never mind. Right through here--" He stepped through the worldgate and vanished.

Justinian turned to the seer on the other side of the portal. "I'm not done with them yet. Can you open a worldgate to Niogoul Maeromirpli? Or give me a mind-image of it, so I can? I'll go rescue your family! And I want to find out what this Holy Order of the Unconquerable Light are about..."

Justinian turned to the seer on the other side of the portal. "I'm not done with them yet. Can you open a worldgate to Niogoul Maeromirpli? Or give me a mind-image of it, so I can? I'll go rescue your family! And I want to find out what this Holy Order of the Unconquerable Light are about..."

"I can give you a mind image", said the seer. "The invasion caused them to lower the barrier, so entrance is no longer inhibited."

The seer closed her eyes and sent the information Justinian would need.

"Please don't try to attack the daemons...they're too powerful...you'll get killed."

Ranawhin watched as Justinian uncloaked. Purr she smiled as they left, wonderingly. She knew that if she hadn't exposed Justinian and told Dorusceronis and Atanracnad what he wanted, he would have attacked and most likely been killed. She couldn't believe he'd be upset with her for it. Aw well. As she looked him over, she frowned at the thoughts he had.

Of course I'm a elf, stupid! I'm 3/4 if you include the Drow! she huffed, bringing her hands to her hips lightly, turning her head sharply to the left to expose her long pointed ears. Her dual red braids flung around with her head and rested over her right shoulder, coming down to her belly. Her skin was tan, but in this light a blueish highlight common among Drow was noticeable. The only bit of her anatomy she didn't show off were her wings. Being only a 1/4 angel, it took too much out of her to create them, it was easier just to leave them as they were, unseen.

Ranawhin frowned as she barked, "With your ungrateful attitude, see if I ever save YOUR life again, Justinian!" She then waved nicely to the Seer just before they went through the portal.

Justinian shook his head. "With that psychic on their side, if they get their army back, they would be unstoppable. I have to kill them now, while they're vulnerable." He closed his eyes and concentrated. A worldgate opened near him. He looked through cautiously.
OOC: What does he see, UC? He's looking into the inside of the Underground City.

"We could use this Jarboe to help us reclaim the city", said Dorusceronis. "But we will need to test it first, to see what it can do."

Atanracnad looked up after thinking for a moment.

"Before we know how powerful it is, we had better keep it in Roberto's psionic ensnare, lest it overwhelms whatever means we use to try and hold it."

"Indeed", agreed Roberto. "But I cannot hold it indefinitely. Like all men I must sleep, and my psionic influence disappears when I do."

Rynehart hissed in frustration. When the boy fell asleep, his psychic grip would disappear, and Jarboe would be free. The difficulty was that the boy could well go to sleep after the fit had ended... thus Jarboe would shift back to Rynehart while the boy was still awake and while he still held Rynehart's body pinned. He would be revealed... and then who knew what would happen? He could likely still be of some use to them, as a skilled fighter... but he did not know. He would have to wait and see - indeed, he had little choice. He thought he could see signs of strain in the boy's expression, but that might just be wishful thinking on his part.

OOC: UC, I'm not familiar with the kind of strains Roberto would be undergoing, but considering he's having to restrain Jarboe and be subject to this constant flood of evil and violence from his mind... he says "my senses are distracted greatly by holding this Jarboe". Would it be making him tired i.e. wanting to go to sleep? Or would it not affect him that much?

For the first time Ranawhin looked to Jarboe and let his evil, violent thoughts carress the edges of her mind, though keeping the string of thoughts he fed her well under control, a pinhole in a black sheet of defense. She was troubled though, as she sensed that Jarboe wasn't the only personality within this body. She could have sworn she felt some strange essence of reason hidden behind the sea of blood, a voice which spoke of many things, but not death. It confused her, but also intrigued her. She reached out to the voice she uncovered.

Hello? Is there another person in here somewhere?

She didn't wait for a reply, she looked to Jarboe and smiled sweetly, waving to him daintily with her hand.

I'm afraid I neglected to introduce myself, my poor ensnared friend. I am Ranawhin Tel'Shae, I know your name is Jarboe ... but do you have a last name perhaps? She felt the need to be free emminating over the need to kill at the moment, and she understood. I wouldn't like being tied up myself, Jarboe ... I shall do what I can when I can ... She then winked and turned back to her masters, wondering what they were going to do next. This was quite an interesting day. Almost as enjoyable as when she got two drunken men to fight over her in the village inn. She smiled with the memory, off in her own world again as she awaited any answer Jarboe may give her, or any order she may be given by Dorusceronis or Atanracnad.

For the first time Ranawhin looked to Jarboe and let his evil, violent thoughts caress the edges of her mind, though keeping the string of thoughts he fed her well under control, a pinhole in a black sheet of defense. She was troubled though, as she sensed that Jarboe wasn't the only personality within this body. She could have sworn she felt some strange essence of reason hidden behind the sea of blood, a voice which spoke of many things, but not death. It confused her, but also intrigued her. She reached out to the voice she uncovered.

Hello? Is there another person in here somewhere?

She didn't wait for a reply, she looked to Jarboe and smiled sweetly, waving to him daintily with her hand.

I'm afraid I neglected to introduce myself, my poor ensnared friend. I am Ranawhin Tel'Shae, I know your name is Jarboe ... but do you have a last name perhaps? She felt the need to be free emanating over the need to kill at the moment, and she understood. I wouldn't like being tied up myself, Jarboe ... I shall do what I can when I can ... She then winked and turned back to her masters, wondering what they were going to do next. This was quite an interesting day. Almost as enjoyable as when she got two drunken men to fight over her in the village inn. She smiled with the memory, off in her own world again as she awaited any answer Jarboe may give her, or any order she may be given by Dorusceronis or Atanracnad.

Rynehart performed the mental equivalent of arching an eyebrow (an act untranslatable into normal language ). He had felt the woman's consciousness brush his, but there had been no flash of recognition... perhaps some awareness, but nothing definite. Not yet. He thought fast - should he try to reveal himself? The woman appeared unstable, anarchic... that much was clear from her offer to free him... but what would freedom do? It might give him a chance to get out of here - the boy seemed to be holding the psychic grip as strongly as when he had first caught Jarboe mid-kill, and showed no signs of fatigue. The way things were going, Rynehart would have more chance of survival if he let this woman free him - if she could - and allowed Jarboe's well-developed sense of self-preservation to get the two of them out of here. He reached up as far as he dared, and spoke. He had no telepathic talent, but assumed the woman could hear him.

"I am Rynehart. When can you free me?"

"I am Rynehart. When can you free me?"

Ranawhin arched both her brows in response to his action, then nodded in response to his words that were probably inaudible to the others but clear as day to her because she read them as thoughts.

My, oh my ... is Jarboe unable to speak for himself? Well, to tell you the truth I know not when, but if I get the chance I'll do what I can. This boy, Roberto, that they have is strong in his power ... but you are right, they do sleep eventually. I know also that you fear being revealed as who you are, Edward, but as long as you act like Jarboe they will assume you are dangerous and you will be safe with us. Remember that.

Rana again looked to Dorusceronis and Atanracnad, but they seemed to be engrossed in whatever it is they were doing, so she continued to let herself drift in the sea of evil and violence Jarboe represented, keeping enough of herself out of it to talk to Rynehart. She was endulging herself in his emotions, something she did just to remind herself she was alive. And so she wouldn't feel emotionally dead, at least for a few moments.

Mmm ... this is fun. You must enjoy talking to Jarboe all day ... he has such interesting ideas about life and death. Doubt I'd want to meet him in a dark alleyway, though. Anyway ... talk to me whenever you like, Edward, when you feel Roberto's grasp weakening or Jarboe falling back to his cage in your mind, let me know, and I'll try and help you. This should be fun.

Rana let her touch on Rynehart's mind linger, giving him a bit of shielding from Jarboe, taking them into herself as playthings. She knew that Dorusceronis, Atanracnad, and Roberto could probably catch Jarboe/Rynehart again if he got loose. She was just bored, and thought to entertain herself as well as possibly helping Jarboe/Rynehart escape for real. She hadn't decided yet to be good or bad, but she was mulling it over. She enjoyed the apprehension of a bad decision.

OOC:

OOC: What does he see, UC? He's looking into the inside of the Underground City.

He would see soldiers of The Holy Order of Unconquerable Light walking about. They use both magic and advanced technology. They carry swords and wear armour. Some may also have laser rifles (powerful!). There will also be freed slaves, and some non-military personnel associated with the order. He may even see some daemon bodies being dumped into trucks for removal.

OOC: UC, I'm not familiar with the kind of strains Roberto would be undergoing, but considering he's having to restrain Jarboe and be subject to this constant flood of evil and violence from his mind... he says "my senses are distracted greatly by holding this Jarboe". Would it be making him tired i.e. wanting to go to sleep? Or would it not affect him that much?

Roberto can cope with holding Jarboe - he has very strong powers. He's distracted because he is inexperienced, and can not yet notice little things when there are large things he must concentrate on.

"My Lord", said Legnerihes to Dorusceronis. "My scouts are beginning to find our people. The survivors are on their way here."

"Good", said Dorusceronis. "Send some messengers to our allies: Jingcrondolia, Yurka, Korhend, Turgosheim...we will need help if we are going to reclaim the city."

"Yes, my Lord."

Legnerihes turned around and walked off towards his troops.

Justinian jumped through the portal, surprising those around him. "I am Justinian Ankana," he said to the nearest person. "Who's in charge of this group? I have information that will be very valuable..."

OOC: Sorry to add some more characters to your workload, UC...unless you want to delegate someone to RP the Unconquerable Light people.

Justinian jumped through the portal, surprising those around him. "I am Justinian Ankana," he said to the nearest person. "Who's in charge of this group? I have information that will be very valuable..."

OOC: Sorry to add some more characters to your workload, UC...unless you want to delegate someone to RP the Unconquerable Light people.


OOC: No I want to RP the order myself.
IC:

"Er...hi", said a soldier, surprised to see Justinian. "If by the group you mean The Holy Order of the Unconquerable Light then it is none other than our noble emperor Michael Trent. If you just mean this squad, then it's Matthew over there."

This emperor is probably busy. Justinian thought. I'll start small. He strode over to the man the soldier had pointed to. "Are you commanding this squad?" he asked. "I know where the demon dictator of this city is. I can open a worldgate to there. Take me to your commander!"

The leader looked at Justinian.

This guy is probably a nut, thought the leader. Claiming to know the location of the dictator...it's probably a trick. I hope it is. If it's a trick, then a few pathetic rebels will jump out and get blasted. If it's real then hundreds of men will be sent to their deaths...

"And who are you?" asked the leader. "Besides, he ain't a dictator any more. Now Trent rules this city."

"I am Justinian Ankana, former resident of the evil nation of Jingcrondolia. I escaped...a lot of things have happened since then. I saw a Jingcrondolian agent I knew was after me with a man...I followed tham...they made contact witha powerful psionic, and the man revealed his daemonic nature. I followed tham, and they went through a worldgate--the man was the brother of the dictator, and they met the dictator himself, along with a necromantic warlord and a unit of troops! I know that plane's coordinates! I can take a platoon of your holy troops there! Take me to your commander!" Time was running out, the Undergrounders would have changed planes soon after they realized it was compromised...

"Ok, I'll go get the commander", said the squad leader. Lest Trent has me executed as a traitor, he thought.

The commander was alerted and walked over to Justinian.

"To fight against the YlimNeicna and their warlords, we will require many troops. To deploy a force large enough I must get permission from the emperor."

He pressed a button on his wristband, and there was a noise of static for a moment. Then came a voice.

"Yes", said the voice, sternly. Trent sounded impatient as usual.

The commander relayed Justinian's message.

"Send out the troops!" yelled Trent. "Destroy the daemons!"

He sounded slightly unhinged.

"Yes, Emperor", said the commander, and turned off the communications device. "I will ready the troops immediately."

Dorusceronis was preparing to mobilise.

"One of our messengers tell us we can take sanctuary in Yurka. We are opening a portal and preparing our forces for the journey", he told them.

"Can it be traced?" asked Roberto.

"Yes, but we will be safer there than here."

Justinian concentrated for a moment and readied a worldgate. Two in this amount of time...he wasn't going to be good for anything in the battle if this kept up. He kept the worldgate from opening so that the group wouldn't be forewarned, though.

Dorusceronis was preparing to mobilise.

"One of our messengers tell us we can take sanctuary in Yurka. We are opening a portal and preparing our forces for the journey", he told them.

"Can it be traced?" asked Roberto.

"Yes, but we will be safer there than here."

Ranawhin yawned as the higher-ups talked, looking up to the sky to see that almost two hours had passed now and Justinian must have certainly alerted the army that'd overtaken the city. She wondered then how Trent was doing as the leader of the Underground City. She thinks back on the morning when they stormed the city.

Ranawhin had just cast herself out of the city early that morning, off to attend to her purchases and barters, but decided to visit the local tavern on her way back to the city, having heard men shouting within.

"Where is the gateway to the Underground City!" One of the officers shouted, two of his underlings holding the half-elf captive. "I don't know! It's shielded ... we aren't allowed there anyway unless we're invited!" came the reply.

"Or maybe all we need is one of their kind to go through the gate first ..." said one soldier. "Someone who can keep the gateway open for us on the other side ..." another added.

Ranawhin blinked, returning to reality. She rubbed her aching neck with a hand, rolling a braid of her red hair between her fingers. She wondered what made her think of the morning like that. That certainly was curious. She looked back to Jarboe, held fast in Roberto's grasp, and let her uneasiness drown in the madness he represented. Then she smiled.

Rynehart could feel Jarboe's grasp weakening - he had been in control for almost half a day, and the effects of the fit were starting to wear off. Still too early to make a bid for control, but soon...

He thought back over what the elven woman had said. If he acted the part of Jarboe, even when returned to his normal form, there was a chance the demon and his followers would still see him as useful. While the changes Rynehart was capable of were not as extreme as those Jarboe wrought, he was still able to shift into a lethal looking creature. And able to use his sword and pistol too...
Jarboe had an intermediate stage, a transformation that was not as severe as the one he now experienced. The physical changes were minimal and the persona, while just as psychotic and violent as Jarboe could be, was more controlled - and thus perhaps more dangerous. If Rynehart could imitate such a persona and explain it to the demon, he would have a good chance of survival... he hoped. He would wait - wait until the inevitable shift back to his normal form occurred, and then begin to act his role.

OOC: I won't be on here until Wednesday unfortunately - off for a university interview at Oxford (go me!) and won't have time to come online. Feel free to carry Jarboe around with you, put him in a cell, whatever... I'll try and catch up on Wednesday evening. Happy soldier-hunting...

"What is going on?" shouted Justinian. "Where are those troops? They're going to leap, and I won't be able to trace them!"

Piccolo, after a long absence, rejoins them. "I can sense their presence. They're over there!"

OOC: Look, Pic, read the thread, OK? Who are you talking to, the Underground City group, Justinian, or the seer? Whose side are you on? Who are over where? You can't just say something random like that without explaining...

With a legion of zombies and skeletal warriors, formed of the corpses of Yurka's recent nuclear war, they were ready to begin their journey back to The Underground City.

"This will be difficult, my lord", Legnerihes warned. "Very difficult."

"I know", said Dorusceronis. "Our only hope is that the undead army will distract the enemy long enough for us to find our way to the important personnel, and kill their commanders. With no-one giving orders, the army will not know what to do. We can then bring in reinforcements to take advantage of the confusion."

Atanracnad walked over. "I have word that our allies Jincrondolia, and Turgosheim have agreed to provide forces to bolster our ranks."

"Excellent", said Dorusceronis.

"Perhaps we can use this Jarboe to help us get into whatever place the high-ranking enemy personnel are using as a base", said Roberto. "He would definitely distract the guards."

"Agreed"

Ranawhin spoke up when she heard them speaking of sending Jarboe in. "My Lords, perhaps it wouldn't be wise to send Jarboe in alone. He has not decided to fight for us, and even though he's a killing machine, it's likely he could give information to the enemy if captured."
She was, of course, volunteering herself. She knew Jarboe was losing strength, becoming tired, and felt that Rynehart wouldn't be able to take everyone himself. She knew that if she came, she'd be able to use her telepathic abilities as a distraction for the guards. Not to mention if she turned up the intensity of her telepathic link with someone, she could cause multiple aneurisms in the brain, resulting in almost instant death.

OOC: hey! it's Thursday! where you at, oxford man! :wink: oh right ... I have class now, I'll be back in 3 1/2 hours ... :roll: See you all then, hopefully ...

OOC: I'm back (state the obvious... :oops: ). Note to Aystha - Rynehart's b/ground says (I think) in times of great stress/danger, Jarboe will often take over... Jarboe isn't tired per se, it's just that the fit is going... but should he come back, even if it's only a few minutes later, he'll be just as antisocial as before :twisted: .

IC: Rynehart grinned as he heard the demons describe Jarboe as a 'distraction'. Something of an understatement... even for those who fought demons, as these soldiers had, Jarboe would come as something of a shock. Demons tended to be somewhat more rational and restrained, and the cloud of sheer malevolence that shrouded Jarboe unnerved even hardened warriors.
Pity, about Ranawhin coming in with him... it would make things that much more difficult should he try to escape. But then she did have a point - he knew that when he shifted back to his normal form he would not be able to take on all the guards on his own, and a psionic would certainly be a help. If he got into a particularly troublesome situation Jarboe would likely take over... he always did... but Rynehart preferred to remain in control and make his own decisions.
Jarboe's thoughts had been running along the same lines - or so Rynehart assumed, since it was hard to pull anything coherent from the welter of violence that occupied Jarboe's mind - and his mental eagerness to fight emanated from him in all directions (OOC: so I'd assume Roberto, Ranawhin and the demons can hear him). He was likely incapable of making a deal to fight for these people when fully shifted, but in his semi-shifted form Jarboe was more than capable of scheming and plotting to suit his own interests... or rather interest; Jarboe had something of a one-track mind.
The thought crossed Rynehart's trapped mind that it might be easier, once the fit had worn off, to make a deal with these people and be dropped in with Ranawhin to fight the guards, and then simply allow Jarboe to take control. Jarboe was intelligent... very much so, though not in the way any normal person would have understood... and he would realise that going along with the demons' plans would allow him to indulge his twisted passions far more than any resistance. Escape... that bridge could be crossed later. For now, as always, the most important thing to Jarboe would be to claim as many lives in as many ways as possible. Or was that souls..?

(OOC: so I'd assume Roberto, Ranawhin and the demons can hear him).

OOC: The daemons (Dorusceronis and Atanracnad) cannot read thoughts, but Jarboe's malevolence would be strong enough for them to sense.

"Now", said Roberto. "Atanracnad has given me a description of our entry point. I will deploy Jarboe. If you are confident that Ranawhin will be safe with Jarboe, then she can go with him. We shall then go inside, at which point I will just follow along with what Dorusceronis says. After we have finished, I will find Jarboe and ensnare him once more. He should not be difficult to locate."

"Yes, that sounds like a good plan", said Dorusceronis. "Inside we have the job of locating our secret magickal store. I only hope they have not found it. The items within have considerable potency and will give us the power necessary to defeat the troops occupying our nation."

"Legnerihes will oversee the undead army as it provides our distraction." said Atanracnad. "Upon completion of our task, I will call him to join us."

OOC: oh ... well ... whatever works :wink:

IC: Rana smiled and raised a teasing forefinger to point at Roberto. "Of course I'll be safe with Jarboe ... I'm a telepath ... I can tell where he's going to go next and get out of his way." she stated assuredly. "And what's more, if I concentrate hard enough I can control even this beast's mind." she lied, thrusting her finger at him. She knew she'd only be permitted to go if she made herself look more powerful that she was.

She sighed relief when they decided she'd go with him and played with the ends of her red braids in anxiousness. She heard Rynehart's thoughts and smiled at his acceptance of her assistance. She knew very well he wanted to escape, and she'd do what she could, but obeying her Lords and reclaiming her home was more important at the moment. In any case, she hurriedly told Rynehart her plan.

Edward ... when we get on the other side I'll send a shockwave to incapacitate the guards. We'll have to move fast and without error. Since I know the city better than you, you'll have to trust me to guide you properly when and if we get seperated.

Rana hoped Jarboe would agree to help, not just for the killing spree he could have. She felt a strange sensation around Jarboe that, unlike anyone else, didn't cause fear in her. It was clear she was more interested in Jarboe than Rynehart at the moment, but was because of the power Jarboe represented. Chaotic and raw power, yes, but Rana is borderline psychotic. Go figure. Even now, she wondered how Jarboe would dispatch of those in his way with a strange smirk on her face.

:x "Where the hell are those troops?" Justinian shouted. "They're going to get away! Isn't the whole military trained to move fast?!?!"

:x "Where the hell are those troops?" Justinian shouted. "They're going to get away! Isn't the whole military trained to move fast?!?!"

Sorry. Just realized I had posted this in my other identity...don't know how I managed that, I could of sworn I was logged as this. Anyway, that was me.

"Jarboe will obey, Ranawhin. He knows he cannot escape from the boy and the demons. When the fit wears off I will..."

Rynehart stopped as ice ran down his nonexistent spine. He had never done this before - Jarboe had either forcefully taken over in time of danger or arisen during one of his attacks. Rynehart had never simply... allowed him to take control. But it was needed here. Ranawhin's talk of separation had convinced him. A team of Rynehart and Ranawhin would have been sufficient, but if he was to be alone and fighting those demon-killer soldiers, Jarboe would be better able to survive whatever they threw at him, and better able to deal out damage in return. He sighed. So much for control...

"...I will allow Jarboe to take over. He will do your bidding. But be aware that his passage through the city may not always be subtle. He is capable of being very stealthy indeed, but should there be any bystanders they may end up providing... entertainment for him."

Jarboe will obey, Ranawhin. He knows he cannot escape from the boy and the demons. When the fit wears off I will...Rana nodded in understanding, then turned to Roberto to confirm the time was right. "We're ready." She could feel Rynehart's discomfort at actually 'letting' Jarboe take over much before he said/thought anything....I will allow Jarboe to take over. He will do your bidding. But be aware that his passage through the city may not always be subtle. He is capable of being very stealthy indeed, but should there be any bystanders they may end up providing... entertainment for him.She smiled, I wouldn't have it any other way ... I want to see how Jarboe plays ... we may not get seperated and you may not have to let him take over, but it is a possibility. Do not get worried about it just yet. The need may never arise.
Rana waited for Roberto to make the portal to the Underground City, and when he did, she jumped through head first, rolling along the ground on the other side. Of course, the guards there looked to her wondering what the hell this red-headed girl was doing here, but that would be the last thing they'd be thinking for awhile. Rana screamed telepathically at the top of her sense, incapacitating everyone within fifty feet of the portal. She then turned to it and waited for Rynehart/Jarboe to come through.

OOC: Check out my silly weapons here (http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=102759&highlight=)

OOC: if you're quite done fooling around you can reply on the Shadow RP board ... :lol:

Edit: Within the sphere of influence? probably not. Most of the soldiers are gathering to you to go through your portal on the main floor, but we entered at another more secluded point ... I'm sure there are many more than just one area to enter the underground city ... and since this is somewhat a stealth mission, we wouldn't be popping in somewhere where there were lots of people ... so prolly one of the most least used portals. >_> Or something.

...incapacitating everyone within fifty feet of the portal...

Will Justinian be within this sphere of influence? Where are Ranawhin and Jarboe in relation to Justinian?

OOC: :roll: how about you look up and read my post, which I edited ... :wink: ... you're prolly on the main level ... we're prolly on a different level in a less secured area. A secluded corner somewhere. Though, since you're char is kinda psychic or something, he prolly knows Rana's there now that she's gone and sent a telepathic shockwave.

There were now a large number of troops in the realm Dorusceronis and Legnerihes had first escaped to. They were clad in shining armour, and carrying laser rifles, with swords at their sides.

"Where did they go?" demanded the commander. "I want them found!"

Meanwhile, the beings in question were back in The Underground City.
Legnerihes was commanding a large undead force as it ran towards the unsuspecting troops. With their ranks thinned due to the search for Dorusceronis, this would be easier than expected.

Dorusceronis, Atanracnad, Roberto and Armitage were walking through a corridor in The Underground City's primary magickal warehouse. So far they had not encountered any troops, but there were bound to be some.

<snip>She then turned to it and waited for Rynehart/Jarboe to come through.

Jarboe flexed, and ripples spread along his body, shaping the skin and muscle into new forms. Barbs and spines retracted, melting into flesh as the blades on his forearms slithered back to disappear. As the shift ended he cocked his head, seeming to sniff the air. If you saw him from a distance or caught a glance of him he might pass for a tall, heavily muscled humanoid - the skin was tinged a green so dark it was near black, but this would not occasion comment. Even the face became more human, although it still carried that sense of reined-in fury burning like a furnace behind the slitted eyes.

Rynehart felt the fit begin to pass. The final stage was coming to an end, and the time had come to hand over. He steeled himself, praying to any deity who might be listening that things would go remotely to plan. Jarboe's hold on him in this state would be lesser than his hold during a fit - Rynehart would be able to wrest control from Jarboe should he have need to. But still... the worry was there, and would stay until this whole damned mess had been resolved, or escaped. He felt control returning as the fit ended and willed himself to let it slide, to let Jarboe take power. For a second he thought he wouldn't be able to; that some subconscious part of his mind would refuse to let this happen, to freely let the abomination possess him. But then it happened - Jarboe wrenched control from him with a force that left Rynehart numb and dazed. He leapt through the portal, landing on the other side without sound. Jarboe straightened and grinned at Ranawhin. His teeth were still as they had been; the mouthful of barbed needles a reminder of his capability.

OOC: Very, very silly weapons indeed. But I still want an Arbalust :lol: :oops: :D :wink:

But then it happened - Jarboe wrenched control from him with a force that left Rynehart numb and dazed. He leapt through the portal, landing on the other side without sound. Jarboe straightened and grinned at Ranawhin. His teeth were still as they had been; the mouthful of barbed needles a reminder of his capability. Ranawhin smiled brightly as he arrived, admiring his spikeyness (sorry, coulddn't think of a word). She then gave a regal bow from the waist, her left hand moving fluidly from her forehead to her stomach then outward in a sweeping motion. "My Lord Jarboe ..." she said, almost sarcastically, a look of pure mischief in her eyes as she stood upright again and continued, "... we're on the highest level of the Underground City at the moment. Those we seek are on the lowest level ..." she pointed down, as if to say directly below them a few levels, "... and they will make wonderful playthings.:twisted:" she added, still in great awe at Jarboe's form (which strangely still didn't cause any fear in her).

She wondered how Rynehart was doing, so she called to him: Edward? Are you alright? How did the transformation go? As she awaited his answer, she tried once more to talk to Jarboe, hoping and obsessed with the thought that he must have a powerful voice to match his personality. "Jarboe?" she began, curious as to if he was truly going to listen to her, and if only because he knew Roberto could track him down if he went against plan. "You are magnificent ..." she blurted out quietly, palms pressed flat together in prayer position with fingertips touching her lips lightly to hide the glee she felt. It couldn't hide the sick joy that shone from her eyes, though. Anyone could tell she was going to enjoy this mission much more than her normal job. Torturing people only when they're one man short in the dungeon doesn't give much job security. She was also very excited to see how Jarboe worked.

OOC: mmm ... insanity ... :wink: ... I'll be back ... reply while I'm gone! xD

As she awaited his answer, she tried once more to talk to Jarboe, hoping and obsessed with the thought that he must have a powerful voice to match his personality. <snip> "You are magnificent ..." she blurted out quietly, palms pressed flat together in prayer position with fingertips touching her lips lightly to hide the glee she felt. It couldn't hide the sick joy that shone from her eyes, though. Anyone could tell she was going to enjoy this mission much more than her normal job.

OOC: mmm ... insanity ... :wink: ... I'll be back ... reply while I'm gone! xD

OOC: :shock: M'dear, I think Jarboe may just have found a kindred spirit :wink: :twisted: 'Mmm... insanity' indeed! Let the good times roll... :twisted:

IC: Rynehart heard Ranawhin's call to him through the whirling glee that filled Jarboe's mind... a sick and twisted joy, mixed with anticipation of the opportunities that were to come.

"I'm fine, Rana. If needs be I can regain control from Jarboe... just say the word should it be needed."

"My Lord Jarboe, we're on the highest level of the Underground City at the moment. Those we seek are on the lowest level - and they will make wonderful playthings."

Jarboe said nothing, merely standing there and letting waves of shifting flesh flow across his body. Spikes flickered from the tides of skin at odd intervals, flashing into existence for a fraction of a second before disappearing once more.

"Jarboe? You are magnificent..."

Jarboe grinned now, exposing those wicked teeth gleaming with strands of saliva. The razorblade smile moved, reflecting the dim fires that burned on the wall as he spoke to Ranawhin.

"Liquefy the senses sweet one, and you would see... you would observe the true glory the carmine beauty that is I that is Jarboe that is Revenant... that is my task. But come, there is work... toys wait for me, clay to be moulded and cut by the artist the surgeon the soulsaver... come..."

His voice was superficially similar to Rynehart's - deep and smooth, with no discernable accent. A voice one could talk to, trust, and be charmed by. But Ranawhin could hear, faint behind the cultured tones, the sound of screaming... the sound of beings in torment, echoing up through Jarboe's throat and weaving between his words, a black fog through thorns. His voice, heard without seeing the creature from which it came, would sound almost normal, but the listener would almost always be overcome by dread and an overwhelming desire to flee... anywhere, as long as it was away from that feeling that thousands of tortured souls were howling for a release, howling to you... Of course, such an aversion to his voice alone was hard to prove. Jarboe's general appearance and manner were enough to send most people running in blind panic, if they survived to see him.

Jarboe stood, silent now, waiting for a command from Ranawhin. Waiting to do his work, the duty that had taken him across galaxies and alleyways... and now here.

OOC: I'm off... feel free to get set up for Jarboe's 'playtime' :twisted: tomorrow. Have fun and remember: homicidal mania can be fun...

OOC: Yes, I'll do that ... :) ... she's just a little less 'hands-on' and a little more 'your thoughts are my thoughts' than Jarboe is ... :wink: I think I've decided that Rana is a dependant personality. She has a need to feed off of other peoples' thoughts and emotions to feel whole herself, and in doing so changes to suit those around her (also, doing so relieves the other person of their woes for the time being). This would explain her unwaivering loyalty to Dorusceronis and Atanracnad, as well as her lapse of loyalty after probing the Seer's and Justinian's minds, and now the bond she's forming with Jarboe. If this be true ... her calm insanity is about to get a little more brutal ... :twisted: ... as long as she stays with Jarboe, that is ... physically or mentally ... he's like a drug to her now ... :wink:

"I'm fine, Rana. If needs be I can regain control from Jarboe... just say the word should it be needed." Rana sighed, now receiving the confirmation she was looking for, and responded with, Alright ... no, Jarboe seems to be behaving rather nicely ... there shouldn't be any trouble ... try and relax, there will probably be a lot of killing ... but nothing to worry yourself over ... She smirked as she thought it, trying not to send any alarming feelings of malice along with the thoughts, knowing it would cause Rynehart to try and retrieve control over Rana's new playmate.

Rana smiled brightly at Jarboe's reaction to her compliment, admiring the shifting form that was both everchanging and mysterious. But was overjoyed more to hear the voice she'd been deprived of since she'd met him."Liquefy the senses sweet one, and you would see... you would observe the true glory the carmine beauty that is I that is Jarboe that is Revenant... that is my task. But come, there is work... toys wait for me, clay to be moulded and cut by the artist the surgeon the soulsaver... come..."She didn't even recognize it as similar to Rynehart's voice. It was completely different because of who was speaking it. She heard the subtleties as well, the screams of tormented souls echoing from within Jarboe, but again was not overcome with fear over it. Most of the time she had no discernable emotions of her own at all, so all she felt was what Jarboe felt, just different enough to be unique in herself and her newest persona.

"My dearest Jarboe, to see your work firsthand will give joy intangible ... and you are right, there are toys awaiting your arrival ... let us not dally and spoil the surprise ..." she said, turning with that same smile of delight she had when hearing his voice for the first time. Rana had never been filled with so much raw emotion before, and even though it was a homicidal, insane flood of violent emotions and screaming souls, she found the beauty in it as well. She had become in tune with the very essence of Jarboe himself, though still so strongly in control of how much she absorbed that she was still Ranawhin. As much of Ranawhin as she wanted to be at the moment.

Jarboe stood silent now, waiting for a command from Ranawhin. Waiting to do his work, the duty that had taken him across galaxies and alleyways... and now here. Ranawhin turned to him as she heard soldiers approaching. "Playtime ..." she cooed, rushing out through the corridor with Jarboe now close behind, the duo leaving silent death behind them as they went along their path, telepathy Rana's tool of command and Jarboe's stealth and skill the tool of action.

They made it halfway to their destination before Ranawhin decided Jarboe should let the whole place know where they were, for 'fun' as well as that much needed distraction the others were hoping for. The others would now find their paths reletively clear as the guards and soldiers within the city all rushed to try and defeat this duo. Especially since they now inhabited the only exit available to their true targets, Trent and his high officials.

Justinian swore in rage. "You bloody military morons, you took so long they got away! They covered their tracks well...I can't open the portal to where they went directly..." Suddenly strange noises echoes through the portal. He stuck his head through...and sensed the proximity of an identity he had felt before, recently. 'That huge creature they brought with them...he's here?' "Come on, they've come through! They're over here!" he shouted to the troops, and plunged through, his powergun ready.

OOC: Hi you! :wink: Ready for a confrontation of sorts? :twisted:

IC: Ranawhin, who had just finished killing a soldier bare-handed, stood up from her spot as Jarboe continued to kill and maim in the background. "I ..." she began, looking around her curiously, ignoring all the chaos and carnage around her. She even ignored the spray of blood that now stained her clothes and some of her skin the same color as her hair. "I sense someone I recognize ..." she stated quietly, walking in that direction after telepathically reminding Jarboe not to have to much fun before taking care of the high officials like Trent. And that she'd be back in a minute to join him.
"Who is this ..." she wondered, having forgotten in her daze of murder. She came down to the main level and turned the corner to where the portal was just after hearing Justinian reveal their presence in the Underground City. She smiled.
"Justinian!" she called out, waving like to an old friend, though her hands and much of her dress and skin was stained with blood. He would realize too late that her wave was actually a distraction so she could close the portal behind him. "Welcome to hell ..." she said with a smirk, giggling before rushing off down the hallway like lightning faster than he could get a word in edgewise. If this strange transformation in Rana didn't concern him, nothing would.
He could probably still hear the echo of her laughter as she ran down the halls, followed and interupted by the screams and gasps of her victims. As she ran onward, she sang a children's song, sending it thoughtwise as well as aloud, killing people cleanly and almost instantly.
"Ring around the rosie, pocket full of posies ... ashes ashes, we all fall down ..." she sang repeatedly.

Jarboe slammed the razor edge of an elbow into a guard's throat, and gore drenched the walls of the passageway. Three more men appeared at the corner of the hall and raised laser rifles as Jarboe turned, ropes of flesh and torn skin hanging from the sharp extrusions that covered his body, blood pooled about him and sprayed on the walls like the work of some homicidal street artist. He grinned, and the men took an involuntary step back from the reddened maw of this thing, this creature that stood there in the remains of their comrades. Jarboe leapt forward. The screams echoed once more.

Rynehart sat there behind Jarboe's eyes and watched the killing almost dispassionately. He had seen so much... done so much that this was almost routine. In fact it was something of an improvement on the usual, since here at least Jarboe was fighting soldiers, men for whom death was something to be expected. What he hated was the slaughter of those innocents who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time... they were the ones who ate at him and drove him to search for a cure.

Jarboe straightened from his work, leaving the guard half-flayed and moaning. His head was cocked, as he sensed a presence... a familiar one.

"Justinian."

He bounded down the corridor, past his still-dripping paintings. He stopped short in front of the door, and grinned. Stooping, he picked up a sliver of metal - a piece of a gun barrel, it looked like. He spun and flung the razor shard down the corridor, hissing through the air to slide gently into the throat of the man he had left there. Jarboe exited the room, chuckling quietly as the death rattle echoed.

OOC: I'll be back tomorrow... sorry I haven't been here too much - lots of work before Christmas :( Take Jarboe where you like, but it'd be appreciated if you left it to me to RP any big fight e.g. with Trent or Justinian. :D Well, I suppose 'hands-on' is a fair description of Jarboe :twisted: Play nicely, children :twisted: ...

OOC: Man, you people are really good at getting in touch with your inner psycho, aren't you?

IC: Justinian ran up the stairs after the fleeing form. He glanced over his shoulder for a fleeting second, seeing the portal closed and no soldiers. How--never, mind, this is more important. I have to get to this "Trent" person and warn him...higher-ups will be higher up, right? He turned and ran up a flight of stairs (ooc: or a lift tube, or whatever) towards the sound of more screams.

The sounds of carnage echoed down the halls from where Jarboe and Ranawhin fought. More and more soldiers ran to their deaths. There was one place where these sounds were not audible, and that was Legnerihes' Battleground. His undead warriors were causing the enemy army quite some difficulty. At best they were fighting relentless zombies with no sense of pain. There were also skeletal warriors, much faster, more agile, and better fighters than the zombies.
Fighting the LuceEternan troops was no easy task though. They were heavily armed and armoured. The numerous zombies acted as a shield of rotting flesh to protect the troops behind from the soldier's laser rifles. While the zombies caused a distraction (before being burnt to ashes), the skeletons ran over and began to hack apart the enemy. Amongst the undead ranks fought the occasional daemon. These daemons were tough and sly, having escaped The Underground City in the first place. Disease, fear and insanity followed as they tore their way through the soldiers.

Inside the magickal stores, the small group had encountered a few guards, but they were no match. With a mighty swing of Dorusceronis' sword, the soldiers' armour was split in half, along with the person inside.

a flight of stairs (ooc: or a lift tube, or whatever)

OOC: Stairs are most likely

Justinian saw a sword lying by the side of the path, likely dropped by a now-dead demon. It glowed with an eerie light, dark and forbidding. He scooped it up as he ran on, wary for any signs of an attack.
OOC: It isn't godmodding to give him a magickal sword, he's got to fight the daemons AND their troops to get to Trent, I'm just trying to get him to have a chance.

OOC: I'm not gonna complain about the sword, it'll give you a good heads-up if we have a conflict ... :twisted: ... and yeah, I guess we are pretty good at getting in touch with our inner psychos ... :wink: ... but I think dealing with your daemons in a creative fashion is productive ... it keeps us sane ... :lol:

IC: As Jarboe made his way down the stairs, Ranawhin was making her way up with Justinian not too far behind. She still sang that children's rhyme as she literally danced up the stairs, dropping soldiers left and right without so much as a touch. At some points, however, when she felt particularly violent, she would kill them herself. Barehanded.
Kneeling over a man she had just ripped the thoat out of, Rana sensed Jarboe coming and immediately looked in that direction. "He comes ... oh, but he didn't take care of Trent yet ..." she said disappointedly, standing and looking at her bloodied hands and clothes for the moment. She then looked in the other direction as she sensed and heard Justinian's approach. She tilted her head curiously at the impending meeting of opposite forces.
"Dear me, dear me ... this might be unpleasant ..." she said quietly.

OOC: It isn't godmodding to give him a magickal sword, he's got to fight the daemons AND their troops to get to Trent, I'm just trying to get him to have a chance.

OOC: No, it's not godmodding. My characters's (Dorusceronis, Atanracnad, Legnerihes and the enemy soldiers all carry enchanted swords - through some more powerful than others). All the characters in this RP seem uberpowerful anyway (which is rather apt considering my characters)

OOC: Hmm... Jarboe's not too uberpowerful - hit him hard enough and he'll go down like any other. Of course, hitting him when he's nailing you to the wall with your own fingers is moderately tricky :twisted: ...

IC: The sound of footsteps echoed down the stairwell, making Ranawhin's head turn. They were fast and panicked, the treads of someone barely restraining themselves from fleeing. Then a voice screamed, and the footsteps broke into a run for a few seconds before being cut off by a wet snick-thud. There was a brief silence, before a body came flying round the corner of the stairwell, the top half bouncing off the wall and the legs crashing to the floor. Jarboe followed, leaping from the stairs like a bird of prey, entrails still hanging from his blades. He landed feet first on the severed ribcage which promptly shattered, painting the walls with blood and bone fragments. Jarboe straightened, a ripple running through his blades to flick off the gore, and smiled at Ranawhin. There was a faint aura of something about him... pride, perhaps?

Justinian's eyes widened... as one would expect. An entrance like that tended to command one's attention.

OOC: I assumed Aystha's "impending meeting of opposite forces" was Jarboe and Justinian, so there you go... all nicely set up. Though remembering they should both survive (for A Darkness In The City)... this should be quite fun :twisted: ...

OOC: I assumed Aystha's "impending meeting of opposite forces" was Jarboe and Justinian, so there you go... all nicely set up. Though remembering they should both survive (for A Darkness In The City)... this should be quite fun ...OOC: Why, of course that's the meeting she was alluding to ... :wink:

IC: Rana smiled as she heard and 'felt' the terror of Jarboe's newest victim. She even peeked within his mind to experience those last few moments of his life. She smiled as she felt the rush of adrennaline, the terror, and experienced the man's life flashing before his eyes (though interupted at about his twenty-fourth birthday by the kill blow). She stood very still, staring at the man as her mind brushed death's dark grasp along with the soldier, then felt it pass and a strange peace come over the body as Jarboe landed on it. She then blinked and looked up to see Jarboe's smile and the aura of pride he felt for his work. She mirrored the smile.
"That was the first time ... that I lingered in the mind of the dying long enough to touch death itself ..." she stated, clasping her bloodied hands together as she continued, "... it was exquisite ... and peaceful."
As Rana heard Justinian coming close, she moved to stand nearer to Jarboe.

OOC: What happened to Armitage anyway? He's not doing much.

OOC: I have no idea ... o.o` ...

I just finished a drawing of Ranawhin:
http://www.deviantart.com/view/4230260
The site is having trouble, but the pic should come up ... just keep clicking the refresh button until it does ... sorry it's in black and white, my computer isn't playing fair ... but if any of you smarty's wanna color her up, be my guest! :wink:

OOC: No idea what happened to half the characters this RP started off with... *looks all disappointed that he is unable to see pic of crazy psychic lady :D *

OOC: The tags you want are [img]

:shock: The knife blade and blood pool just add that certain extra je ne sais quoi, don't you think? :D :twisted:

Nice pic... she looks very cool and ever so slightly unbalanced (which I'm assuming was the idea...)

DP

OOC:Woot! ya like her! :twisted: I'm so happy ... yeah, I finished her last night and drew in the knife last ... I was gonna draw her with jarboe behind her, but I didn't have a good enough decription of him to be sure I didn't put him to shame ... :wink:

Edit: lol ... lots and lots of spikes, eh? A bit horny, is he? :lol: Just kidding ... I couldn't resist ... NEway, if you could email me some of those quotes or anything, I'd greatly appreciate it ... aystha@yahoo.com ... then I can draw Jarboe and be happy again :twisted: ...

OOC: :lol: I don't really have that much of an idea what Jarboe looks like either... not one that I can effectively put into words anyway...

Have you read Perdido Street Station by China Miéville? He has some monsters in there that are kinda like Jarboe would look, only with wings. Might post a few quotes from it later, give an idea of what Jarboe looks like... but for now, just think spikes. Lots and lots of spikes... :twisted:

Woo yay... OK I posted you a load of quotes Aystha - I'll put them up on the Rynehart thread too. Jarboe's basic form is humanoid, though taller and more muscular than the average human. The word 'hulking' could be applied :D .There's a sense of grace about him - he moves very fluidly and precisely with no wasted or extraneous gestures. His head is basically humanoid but slightly elongated... he almost has a very slight 'snout'. Think a cross between a dinosaur and a human head and that'll be pretty close, though the mouth isn't as defined as it would be on a dinosaur head.

EDIT: Just read your email. Quotes weren't supposed to really explain what he looks like... just give a sort of feeling/inspiration about him. Read them and then draw whatever your imagination comes up with :D

OOC: I noticed ... and I read ... :) ... thanks for the extra info here, though ... it clears up a little confusions I had reading the quotes ... I'm gonna go ponder it for awhile while we wait for Justinian to get his butt in gear :wink: ...

Edit: Will do ... be back in a few hours ... :twisted: ... if Jarboe doesn't get to me first ... lol

I unfortunately won't be here in a few hours *looks all sad and stuff* because here in Ye Olde Englande it'll be pretty late, and I have college tomorrow :cry: sorry... But I will be on tomorrow so if you wanna post anything you do with Jarboe that'll be cool... have fun :twisted: ...

OOC: Sorry I kept you waiting. The Ranawhin is cool. Armitage isn't doing anything much because the daemons and Legnerihes aren't doing much, and that's who he's with. But here goes, just because.
IC: Armitage looked around at the halls of the city. "Amazing...I can feel the evil energies of the place emanating from the very walls..." He pulled out an amulet and spoke into it. "Jingcrondolia HQ? Come in. this is Agent Armitage. Password: The end justifies the means. I have made contact with the Ungergrounder ruler, and we are in their occupied city, attempting to retake control. I am near the head of their army. I can see our troops augmenting their forces...Requesting orders. Over."

Justinian held the sword in his left hand, his powergun in his right. If it closed to close combat he would switch...but now the long-range weapon was more important. He raised it, concentrated to strengthen the power, and fired--at Ranawhin. Taking out the smaller target first to prevent anybody sneaking up behind him was good battle logic. Not that he expected this to do much, as a powergun wasn't the strongest weapon and this person obviously had magickal wards on them...

The group carried on walking through the corridors, except for Roberto, who floated. They had not come across any guards for a while now. This meant that the enemy had not yet delved this deeply into the stores. A good sign for them. Eventually they reached a wall. To most, it would seem just an ordinary wall, but Dorusceronis knew better. He pushed on a brick, and a doorway opened for them. They went through into a large room, full of swords, armour, and other items.

"This is what we have been looking for", explained Dorusceronis. "Let us arm and armour ourselves."

Dorusceronis, Atanracnad and Roberto each put on a suit of armour, and the daemons grabbed a sword and shield. The choices were not random - they knew which blades and defenders they wanted. Roberto did not pick up a shield, feeling the combination of telekinesis and elite infernal plate armour would suffice. He pulled a dozen swords into the air, where they hoverred before him.

"Let us teach these invaders a lesson", said Roberto.

"Yes", said Atanracnad. "But first..."

He cast a magickal spell - one that allowed long distance communication.

"Legnerihes. We are in the store. Come and join us."

He raised it, concentrated to strengthen the power, and fired--at Ranawhin.Ranawhin had just made it to Jarboe's side and was turning to face Justinian in his approach when she sensed, all too late, that he had malicious intent for her. She flew back with the force of the powergun's hit to her face and landed on the last few steps of the staircase. She laid still, like the dead, for quite a few precious minutes.

(You and Jarboe gotta do something before the next paragraph takes effect xD)

Then the strangest thing happened. She began to glow slightly as if a light was being shone on her, and slowly her small yet angelic wings sprouted from her back. They appeared even as she was still unconscious and lifted her to her feet all on their own. Her head flopped forward as she was placed onto her feet, and luckily that was enough to wake her. She moaned and lifted her eyelids as if from sleep.

"That ... was very rude, Justinian ..." she said quietly. She rubbed her neck and looked to the wall where a mirror hung, noticing the mark from the powergun was still there, though not painful and seeming to heal itself very, very slowly. She's so distraut with the knowledge that someone would actually shoot her that she just stood there, staring.

OOC: ... and after she's done staring, she's gonna be rather mad ... just warning you ahead of time ... :wink:

Justinian stood still for a moment, surprised the shot he had expected to be only a warning had incapacitated an opponent. Then he pulled himself together and took advantage of his good fortune. He fired a few weak shots that would likely simply tickle the monstrosity before him, conserving his psychic energy for later in the battle, then ran towards him, powergun back in its holster and sword held high in both hands. A long downward strike would likely do some harm to his opponent, though it would be easy to dodge...

Armitage stared around the armory in bemusement. He walked over to a sword he rather fancied, and reached a hand towards it. "If I may?" he said in the direction of Dorusceronis. "I would rather not be completely unarmed and unarmored magickally in the upcoming battle."

Double post

Triple post

OOC: I see Jincrondolia is adapting my alternative spellings "daemon", and "magick". I regret to inform you that I have been misusing the word "magick", which although an existing word, is not a synonym for "magic". I apologize for dragging you into my pit of language abuse. I have not the time to go over my previous posts to correct my folly, but I shall use "magick" no longer. "Daemon", however, is an acceptable variant of "demon", so I will continue to use it.

OOC: Oh? Really? I was just trying to go with the flow 'cuz you started the thread, so you set up the world...okay, I'll stop too, then...

Dorusceronis turned to Armitage.

"Yes, of course", he said. "Trent's officials will be difficult to defeat I am sure."

A few minutes later, Legnerihes came running down the corridor.

"I am here, my lords", he announced. "Let us bring swift death upon those who sought to cause us harm!"

Legnerihes ran over and found some equipment. He took off his armour, and put on another suit. He also found a sword, hanging on the wall. Underneath the sword was a plaque, that read "Legnerihes Mantresni" in meticulously drawn daemonic runes. The swords that Dorusceronis and Atanracnad had taken had similar plaques on the wall.

Once all were ready, they left the store room, heading back up to find the leaders, before the invaders formulated a counter-strike.

OOC: Just a question ... what are we gonna do with all the Unconquorable Light soldiers that are now stranded in that barren place we first moved to? Can't they go through the world gate to get back to the town and there find another person to give them a portal into the Underground City? Just a question ... perhaps you were planning on them coming in later on and I ruined the surprise ... nevermind me ... :wink:

"Now, men!" shouted a LuceEternan officer, and member of the Holy Order of The Unconquerable Light. "I shall open a portal, to take us back to The Underground City!"

Soon the troops were back in The Underground City, and found its troops being slaughtered by the undead army.

OOC: if you had read my post before and Justinian's subsequent post, he jumped through the portal but Rana came around the corner and shut the portal before the troops could come through.

see y'all in two hours

Justinian stood still for a moment, surprised the shot he had expected to be only a warning had incapacitated an opponent. Then he pulled himself together and took advantage of his good fortune. He fired a few weak shots that would likely simply tickle the monstrosity before him, conserving his psychic energy for later in the battle, then ran towards him, powergun back in its holster and sword held high in both hands. A long downward strike would likely do some harm to his opponent, though it would be easy to dodge...

Mwahahahaha :twisted: let battle commence...

Jarboe noted Ranawhin's fall dispassionately. The psychic lived - she would recover soon enough. He turned to see Justinian raising an arcane pistol, the barrel carved in twisting patterns, and firing at him. Shimmering bolts of energy screamed through the air, patterns rippling along them like oiled water.
Jarboe swayed to one side, and the bolts hissed past to dissipate in a crackle against the wall behind him. One struck his shoulder, but left no more than a scorch mark on his tough skin. Watching from the relative safety of Jarboe's skull, Rynehart saw Justinian leaping towards him, both hands holding his sword high ready for a downward stroke that would cut Jarboe in two...

"You bloody fool..." Rynehart mentally rolled his eyes. Every damn amateur did this - swung their blade around in big sweeping arcs, then looked surprised when someone slipped underneath and took their head off. Justinian had left his whole lower body open, and Jarboe was not one to pass up a chance like that.

There were times for subtlety and times for action. There were also times for sheer upfront brutality, of which this was one. Jarboe tore forward, his speed taking him inside Justinian's striking range and through before the sword had a chance to twitch. Dagger limbs ripped out to eviscerate the psychic, razor tips gleaming in the low light. Manic glee echoed through Rynehart's mind as Jarboe went in for the kill.

Justinian desperately used his weak telekinesis powers to push himself back out of the range of Jarboe's blow. He flipped over and landed on his back, his breath going out of him in a whoosh. His speed is incredible...I was counting on those powerbolts to at least shake him up a little, put him off balance. And he came right back...obviously, brute force is not the way to win this battle. That matches his strength against my...less strength, I'm not a wimp, but still. And he's at least as fast as me, that won't work either. So the only thing left is to outthink him... He rolled backwards, trying to get out of range, though using telekinesis had robbed him of much of his strength.

Justinian desperately expended most of his psychic energy on creating a shield for himself. The claws struck it and he was sent flying backwards, doing a backflip and falling to the ground with the breath knocked out of him. I was counting on those powerbolts to at least shake him up, put him off balance for a moment. But he came right back! Obviously I can't hope to use brute force to win this battle. That's matching his strength against my...less strength, I'm not a wimp, but still. Speed is out too, he's at least as fast as I am. But I'm picking up not much brains from this thing. It has reason, and lots of cunning, but it isn't the smartest around. So I outthink it, and match my strength against its weakness... He rolled back out of the range of Jarboe's blows, breathing heavily from the effort, and looked at the surroundings out of the corners of his eyes for an opportunity.

Rana stopped staring at her reflexion and looked over to Justinian who was definitely having a hard time with Jarboe. "That bastard tried to kill me ..." she said quietly, a great amount of anger welling up within her. As she grew in her anger, her feathers changed colors from the tip to the root. White to black with gold and red during the transition. She raised a hand, intending on reaching straight into his mind to pop his veins like a billion little balloons.

Suddenly Rana shut off the link to Jarboe and slammed her fist into the wall, so much negative force behind it that it broke off pieces of brick underneath and around her hand as well as cause large spider cracks along the brick wall. This surprised Rana and she retracted her hand to notice it hadn't been injured. "How ..." she pondered. This action might give Justinian the distraction he needed to get himself into a better position. That is, if a wall crumbling under the force of a small woman would catch Jarboe's attention. It definitely isn't normal.

OOC: ... didn't you once say Jarboe was a contagious disease? :wink: I wonder how it would communicate cross-species ... :twisted:

OOC: Woops ... sorry, forgot I was logged in under my second nation ... >.> ... well ... y'all knew it was me ... xD ...

OOC: :?: From really angry at him to helping him beat up her erstwhile obsession in one second? I know whe's insane, but that's a bit much...or does she just want to killl Justinian herself?

Edit: Logged in wrong ... >.>

OOC: :?: From really angry at him to helping him beat up her erstwhile obsession in one second? I know whe's insane, but that's a bit much...or does she just want to killl Justinian herself?OOC: Now ... say that again ... in ENGLISH this time? :wink: This is how it happened. (1) She was very angry at Justinian, (2) she got so angry she slammed her fist into the wall, and (3) she's now wondering how she did it.
Her cutting the mental link with Jarboe was just a bi-product of rage ... and I was doing it to help you, not her. She did it because she felt like killing Justinian and somehow a piece of rational thought peeked through so she hit the wall instead. She'll commence being a calm insane person now that she's let out all the anger on the wall.OOC: STUPID THING SIGNING ME IN WRONG ... grrr ... :evil:

OOC: too many ooc comments in this thread!

IC:

The Seer wandered the streets of The Underground City alone. Her blindness made navigation hard, but she wanted to find her family and escape. Reaching out with her mind, she located them, and walked in their general direction.

Jarboe stood stock still watching Justinian, an obsidian statue from some deranged sculptor. He saw Justinian's eyes shifting from side to side, betraying his nervousness. Not that such clues were needed - Jarboe could smell the fear radiating from the man as he sought for some advantage. He stepped in suddenly, smoothly and sent a bone jag humming lazily through the air towards Justinian's throat. The Jingcrondolian ducked the blow easily, as intended... he was now off-balance and an easy target. Jarboe hammered a claw tip down at the top of Justinian's head but was again deflected by the psychic shield. Snarling, he sprang high in the air, arms raised and ready to deliver a lethal blow. But even as he struck Jarboe felt power being expended in the room and his attention was distracted for a second. Then the mindlink to Rana snapped, and his concentration wavered further. The blow was poorly timed and Justinian jumped back, before bringing his sword up into an attack stance.

Rynehart watched the battle, waiting for the inevitable spray of red as Justinian was eviscerated by Jarboe's bone lances. But the Jingcrondolian seemed to be - barely - holding his own, evading the blows and blocking with his powers. His force would soon run dry however, and then...

Rynehart's attention was snatched away by Ranawhin's outburst, and the shattering of the mindlink. The mental backlash dazed him briefly, and when the haze cleared he found the situation much as it had been - Jarboe facing a wary Justinian and readying himself for another attack. Jarboe seemed to be barely trying - he had expended little energy so far, and appeared to be almost toying with the man. But there was a frustrated rage building there at his seeming inability to do the man any damage; soon Jarboe would simply unleash his full fury on the Jingcrondolian, and when that happened... Rynehart had seen young vampires fall beneath Jarboe's claws - he knew what the beast could do if pushed.

OOC: Sorry about the out of character posts, UC ... :wink:

IC: Ranawhin sighed heavily as she regained control, then looked over her shoulder wondering why her wings hadn't disappeared yet. She tried, but they wouldn't do as she wished, not to mention now they were stained black-ish red as if trying to go back to white but unable to.

She stopped trying eventually and looked to Jarboe and Justinian as they had their duel. She didn't want to bother the boys' fun, so she sat with her back against the wall with her arms crossed, watching. But not just as a common spectator, she took in the thoughts of both parties and watched as well as listened and 'felt' every move that was made.

Suddenly, she sensed the thoughts of some other people coming nearer and stood to confront them. "Sorry to leave you boys like this ... but there are some souls fleeing the bowels of hell ... I can't allow that because I'm the gatekeeper ..." she said, giving a flourish of a bow to Jarboe, a childish wave to Justinian, and proceeded to dance up the stairs singing a new favorite children's song. It emulated what she was about to do to those poor soldiers.

"Three blind mice, three blind mice ...
See how they run, see how they run ...
They all run after the butchers wife ...
She'll cut off their tails with a carving knife ...
Have you ever seen such a sight in your life as three blind mice ..."

Justinian made small feints with the sword, trying to distract the beast. He searched his surroundings for a way to defeat it. He looked down...no convenient bits of ice, traps, or the like. He look at the walls...no nice balconies or anything. He looked at the ceiling...
Justinian kept his pokerface to avoid alerting the beast, but inwardly he smiled. There was a large chandelier up there, glittering brightly with many candles. It looked like it was made of cast iron, very heavy. Not big enough to kill the beast, but if it landed dead center, Jarboe would certainly have other things on its mind than defeating Justinian. It was supported by several large, thick, flammable ropes. Did I mention pyrokinesis is one of the psychic skills Justinian is best at?
He began to maneuver, hoping the beast would follow him...

Jarboe ignored the swift movements of Justinian's blade - he could tell from the body language that none were actual strikes. Mere feints and posturing - rather like this human. But he tired of this game - all his attempts to play had failed and Ranawhin had said there was work to do. A pity - this one could have provided some sport.

Justinian backed away and Jarboe closed, shimmering biotic jags springing from his forearms. Soon, very soon...

Rynehart and Jarboe caught the tiny upward flicker of Justinian's eyes at the same time. Comprehension formed in their minds, and Jarboe lunged desperately forward, snarling at the audacity of this pathetic soft-skinned whelp. But although his reactions were faster han any human would have thought possible, Justinian's powers moved at the speed of thought. Invisible blades sliced through the ropes holding the chandelier up, and three hundred pounds of dark beaten iron plunged towards the floor to Rynehart's soundless scream.

The weight of metal smashed into Jarboe - his dive forward meant that it did not strike his head, as planned, but slammed into the small of his back, driving him to the floor. He was uninjured, his tough skin and layers of muscle protecting him from any damage, but it gave Justinian a breathing space.

Justinian had no desire to continue fighting this thing. He could tell the chandelier had only annoyed it and kept it unable to move for a few precious seconds, and Justinian had been less than holding his own before, the beast slowly forcing him back. He backed away quickly, towards some upward-facing stairs--unrealized by him, the same ones Ranawhin had taken. He ran up them and, with a mighty swipe of the enchanted sword, brought the door's lintel crashing down. A large piece of roof came down with it, effectively blocking the doorway for at least a while, even against Jarboe's strength. He turned and went up the stairs, drawing closer the Ranawhin and the daemons with every step.

Jarboe flung the twisted chandelier from him to see the roof come down in a thunder of dust and rubble, blocking the route Justinian had taken. He howled, a sound of pure anger and frustration that tore through the corridors and made the score of guards creeping towards the room halt and stare at each other wide-eyed.

Jarboe hurled himself at the wreckage, stabbing and hacking at the debris with the frenzy of a predator foiled at the pounce. Iron and stone shuddered at his blows, but even through the rage clouding his mind it was clear that the pile would take too long to move. He spun round, preparing to look for another route to the command area.

Jarboe and Rynehart were greeted by the trembling mouths of twenty lasrifles. Twenty pairs of terrified eyes locked onto the nightmare sculpture that stood in the centre of the room, teeth bared in a hellish grin below the screaming eyes. Silence hung like a dropped glass, waiting to fall and shatter. The moment stretched, finespun wires of tension reaching breaking point...

... until Jarboe moved, curving like a whiplash across the room. Lasrifle barrels followed, flickering rays dancing and playing over the shattered door and debris-strewn floor. They lent a cheery red glow to the room, and threw crimson higlights on the muzzles of the guns and the edged surface of Jarboe's hide - bloody portents of the massacre to come. He slid twining between around over under the lethal beams with the grace of a dancer, back and forth almost mockingly before the guardsmen. Then, shockingly fast, Jarboe leapt across the room towards the men. The thirty feet of air in front of him turned almost instantaneously into a corridor framed by beams of light as the troops sought to shoot him out of the air. Laser fire hissed into his torso and limbs leaving bubbling scorch marks only a few shades blacker than his skin, but the thick hide shifted as he flew, mending the damage and absorbing the blows.

Then he was among them, an avenger sent by some higher power to punish the guilty for their sins. The soldiers had fought demons before, and knew them to be evil, ruthless creatures. But they were beings that one could deal with, that one could understand. They schemed and planned and thought in predictable, near-human ways. But this... this thing was utterly alien. They could not fathom its thoughts, its desires or motivations. All they knew was this swift and soon-ended orgy of death and blood, comrades exsanguinated before their eyes as they died impaled on spears of bone, slaughtered by this unholy monstrosity. What plane of Hell had exhaled this creature none knew, but it had to be purified and the dark flame extinguished. The call went out for reinforcements, even as Jarboe tore the comms-man in half and stood in the reddened room basking in the scent of death.

Armitage suddenly looked around, confused. "What?" he said. "I thought we got rid of him!" He turned to Dorusceronis. "Ankana (ooc: its justinians last name, remember?) is coming here! He's in the city, a couple of floors away and closing!"

OOC: Um ... I can't believe I forgot to tell you guys ... I'm gonna be on vacation for about 2-3 weeks starting Monday (tomorrow). Sorry about that ... but Henleaze Avenue can puppet Rana for the time being since she, well, is kinda Jarboe's protage (sp?). It shouldn't be too hard for him, if you guys need me while I'm gone. Just remember, she's spontaneous and switches loyalties faster than a t.v. channel.

Justinian would soon smell the stench of blood as he followed Rana's path, a few handprints of dripping blood on the corridor walls but strangely no screams being made like when Jarboe took care of his playthings. There were noises being made, strange surreal noises that were only apparent when standing still.

In a small room, Rana held three soldiers captive. One had his legs broken in multiple places and was propped against a wall, his mouth sewn shut. Another had been sadly beaten to death with a lamp, though the pool of blood around him entailed he was still alive for quite a few minutes, bleeding slowly to death. And the third soldier, well, he was currently acting as Rana's patient, being cut up like a cadaver (sp?) as she curiously explored the human body and organs.

Rana's hair was unbound now, covering her face and shoulders as she worked, hiding the splatters of blood that kept drying and being renewed with someone else's blood. But Rana's concentration was broken by Jarboe's scream of anger. She quickly stood and stared in the exact direction of Jarboe, though that meant she looked like she was staring at the wall. "Oh ... Justinian escaped ..." she said woefully, pulling the knife from her latest victim and walking to the one who had only broken legs and his mouth sewn shut. She kneeled as she spoke. "I'm sorry, but I have to go now ... if I have time, I'll come back and give you the attention you diserve ..." she said lovingly, running a finger across his forehead and down one cheek, leaving a trail of blood that had come from the fresh wounds of the others. The soldier stared back, scared out of his mind. She smiled and stood, wiping the knife on her skirt.

"Oh hell ... I've got time to give you a little loving ..." she said with a smile, effortlessly slitting the man's throat and moving to the door. She looked back on the room, the walls streaked and splattered in an uncommon pattern. She tilted her head curiously with interest, tied her hair back into a low ponytail, then stepped out the door. She actively searched for Justinian's mind through the cloud of other minds, and when she found it she locked on and walked on a collison course with him. As she walked and rested her mental energy on finding Justinian, she became less of what she was with the soldiers and more mentally stable. She molded and shaped her behavior to match Justinian, with her own personal twist of course. She forgot everything she did to the soldiers as the violence dissipated and sanity returned.

OOC: Cadaver was correct and it's spelled protégé.

Justinian sidled up to a corner and looked around. He saw Ranawhin, covered in gore and other substances less easy to name...or keep your stomach at the stench of. He swallowed, and turned to try to find another way up the stairs to Trent...anyone who could take that much of a powergun blast unshielded and unready and get back up was scary. Let alone the wings...

Dorusceronis turned to Armitage.

"He is of little concern to us", Dorusceronis said. "I doubt he is stupid enough to attack us directly, or intelligent enough to find another way to do us harm."

The group walked on through the corridors, getting ever closer to Trent and his officials. They were now surrounded by an orbiting ring of swords under Roberto's control. He hoped that the sheer number of blades would make up for the slight inaccuracy that still hindered his telekinesis.

As they neared the rooms being used to house the officials, a group of guards jumped out to attack them. The guards thought they were ambushing the group, but Roberto had noticed their presence, and the moment they jumped out he sent the blades flying toward them. Some blades missed the guards, some hit the sides of their armour and shields, bouncing off, and some plunged into their bodies through gaps and weak-points. The effort of moving a dozen swords as fast as possible exhausted Roberto, but it was worth it, as several guards were slain. Roberto stopped floating and stood on the floor, resting his mind.

The daemon brothers now took up the fight, their swords crashing down into the guard's heads for instant death. These guards had tougher armour than the others, and proved to give some protection against the brothers' mighty swipes and powerful swords. The guards backed off , their shields raised, firing laser beams. The beams were intense, but the armour and shields of the brothers protected them.

Suddenly, Atanracnad dashed at the soldiers, swiping with deadly speed and accuracy. A few more were slain, as they had made the mistake of getting close together. The rest were on Dorusceronis' side and he dealt them swift death. He was not as accurate as Atanracnad, but with his immense strength, even greater than his brother, it did not matter.

OOC: Yay! Tis great to be home again :twisted: so I can scare my own pets ... lol jk ... :D I hope you guys all had a great holiday season, I'm definitely ready to continue our little adventure. :wink:

As she walked and rested her mental energy on finding Justinian, Rana became less of what she was with the soldiers and more mentally stable. She molded and shaped her behavior to match Justinian, with her own personal twist of course. She forgot everything she did to the soldiers as the violence dissipated and sanity returned.

"Justinian?" she cooed, following him at a slightly slower pace than he was moving, her heels clicking and scraping along the stone floor as she walked. She came by a mirror and puddle of water from a recently broken pipe. She cringed at her appearance and knelt to splash water on her hands, face, neck, and shoulder, wondering how she had gotten so mussed up. Even worse, as she washed she realized it wasn't her own blood and flesh that came off.

"My God ..." she said silently, she looked down to see her white shirt stained almost completely the reddish-brown color of blood. "What have I done this time ..." she added, trying to tie back her hair. She couldn't get the sticky mass to go as she liked, however, and removed her hands to find them streaked with more blood. She cleaned them in the already-red water, and slowly began to remember what she had done and who was the catalyst for such awful deeds.

"Jarboe ... if only I hadn't intercepted the Seer's thoughts to Rynehart who shares your mind, I would have never done such horrible things. I understood completely why you do such evils while I was even doing them myself, but now I feel only guilt and pain. What shall I do the next time? I can't control myself when I attatch ... this is truly a sad state. Perhaps Rynehart can help me. He should know better than anyone. But how to get to him without making contact with Jarboe ... is the difficult part ..." she continued to mumble to herself, Justinian (if he could hear her speaking) would understand she had come to her senses. Even now she could hear the scratching and clawing of Jarboe as he tried to free himself from the room Justinian had collapsed the ceiling to contain him in. She forced herself not to probe with her mind, though, and closed herself off mentally from everything beyond her own mind, afraid of regressing to her less-than-humane counterpart.

OOC: Long enough for ya? See you guys soon! ^^ Hopefully you'll start posting again now that I've got us started.

OOC: I was starting to worry everyone but me had forgotten about this thread...BTW, what happened to ShadowRP?

Justinian paused. He had heard Ranawhin talking to herself, and much had become clear. So she's one of that type, eh? he thought to himself. I've met them before...but it might be a trick... He probed her mind in search of truth. But there was some sort of psychic barrier on it, he couldn't break through...Huh. Only a psionic could make this sort of barrier--which means she must have at least rudimentary psychic powers, at least a little telepathy. Stronger, from this shield and what I felt back when I was fighting...Jarboe, did she say? But she seemed to think there was some sort of other person in there with him... But, a psychic with that sort of madness? She can imprint on people just by going within a hundred feet of them or more! That's bloody dangerous...

OOC: I don't know, we'll have to ask Underground City. I wonder if the others went off for vacation too ^^

IC: Rana looked around and saw a slave woman's shaul laying on the ground nearby, obviously left behind in the rush of leaving. She picked it up and covered her head and hair with it, leaving only her face and ears out of the cloth. She looked back down the hall where she'd come from, feeling someone's mind brush up against her own and realizing in time that it must have been Justinian. Instead of risking an extension of her mind to him, she used her voice.

"Justinian? I know you're there ... You don't have to hide from me, I'm back to my senses at the moment." she said, reaching into her pocket unconsciously to grip the knife she had used before on the soldiers in the room. Realizing it, she took it out and dropped it on the floor, taking two steps away from it and moving back to the puddle to wash her hands again. She really wished there was a bathroom nearby, though.

DP

OOC: Just to clarify, Jarboe isn't trapped in the room. Justinian prevented Jarboe from following him, but Jarboe can still leave the room through the other door. The Shadow forum seems to have deleted our page :cry: , and I haven't been on holiday... just ridiculously overworked. Apologies for my lack of posting - but I should be able to get back up to speed now.

IC: Jarboe stepped out of the room. It was now almost unrecognisable as being the same room he had stepped into minutes earlier. A twisted lump of metal lay on the floor and rubble filled the far wall. Bullet holes drew patterns on the walls, ceiling and floor of the room, and there were several scorched blast areas marking grenade detonations. There were the bodies of fifty soldiers piled in the centre of the room, limbs flung haphazardly like bloodied ragdolls. There was also, as a consequence, rather a lot of blood and body parts spread liberally around the room.

Another thirty soldiers had gone into the room. And now Jarboe walked out, alone. Technically a number of the soldiers left too, plastered over Jarboe's skin and teeth or hanging in shreds from his claws.

Jarboe looked left to see a window, heavily barred with iron. He crossed the corridor and reached up to the metal grid, ripping it from the window with little perceptible effort. Squeezing through the window he found himself on the outside of the tower, with the city spread out below him and more windows gleaming above. Jarboe grinned... he could feel Justinian and Ranawhin somewhere above. He began to climb.

OOC: Just to clarify, Jarboe isn't trapped in the room. Justinian prevented Jarboe from following him, but Jarboe can still leave the room through the other door. The Shadow forum seems to have deleted our page :cry: , and I haven't been on holiday... just ridiculously overworked. Apologies for my lack of posting - but I should be able to get back up to speed now.OOC: oh ... poor guy ... :hugs: ... I'll bet you wish you were Jarboe sometimes so you could put those bosses of yours in their place about overworking you, eh? :wink: It's all good ... I can't post until Justinian does ... I wonder where he is right about now :?:

Justinian spoke back to Ranawhin. "Back to your senses, eh? Prove it, and I'll believe you. You can't lie in telepathy. Let down that shield and then I'll believe you're telling me the truth. I'll put up shields of my own if I have to, to stop you imprinting." He closed his eyes and readied himself to probe her mind, the only sure sort of polygraph--it wasn't something he was good at, the person had to be willing to let him in...

...Jarboe looked left to see a window, heavily barred with iron. He crossed the corridor and reached up to the metal grid, ripping it from the window with little perceptible effort. Squeezing through the window he found himself on the outside of the tower, with the city spread out below him and more windows gleaming above...
OOC: Errr... aren't they underground? I was under the impression this was all tunnels, with solid rock on the other side of the walls. Or is it a normal (albeit demonic) city built in a big cavern? I suppose only UC can tell us for sure...

OOC: I thought it was all down underground too ... just because of the name of the city ... but ... you're right, only UC can tell us for sure so let's just have fun with it.

IC: Ranawhin rolled her eyes at his inability to tell when she was insane or not. It was much less than flattering. "You listen to me, Justinian, do you even hear Jarboe? If I open my mind now I most likely won't be sane anymore, stupid! I've shut myself off for a reason!" she said sternly, shaking her head. She then pointed at the shaul covering her bloodied hair as she continued speaking. "And would I go through the trouble of cleaning myself up and covering my head to be presentable if I was still psycho me? Well Lle n'vanima ar' lle atara lanneina, Justinian! I don't care if you believe me!" she huffs and crosses her arms across her chest.

OOC: What she said was elvish and translates as something along the lines of 'you are ugly and your mother dresses you funny.' Quite laughable when you think about it. ^^

...Jarboe looked left to see a window, heavily barred with iron. He crossed the corridor and reached up to the metal grid, ripping it from the window with little perceptible effort. Squeezing through the window he found himself on the outside of the tower, with the city spread out below him and more windows gleaming above...
OOC: Errr... aren't they underground? I was under the impression this was all tunnels, with solid rock on the other side of the walls. Or is it a normal (albeit demonic) city built in a big cavern? I suppose only UC can tell us for sure...

OOC: No idea. I was working on the city-in-a-cavern assumption... when UC gets better it'll be cleared up and I'll change my posts if need be.

OOC: It is a city inside a cavern, but there are some tunnel-like parts to it as well.
IC:

The familiar smell of rotting human corpses told the seer that she had reached her old home. Her family were close by now, she could sense them. Trudging on through the filth that covered the cobbled road through the slums, she could hear a commotion. The people were scared. Since their saviours had left to fight the daemons and not come back, they were worried of what would become of them. Mostly they were too busy fretting to notice her, but someone did.

"Grandma!" shouted a small girl, running over to the seer and giving her a hug.

A man and woman now ran over.

"Mother", said the woman, with tears in her eyes. "I thought I would never see you again! What happened?"

"It is too long a story to tell now", said the seer. "I met a man called Justinian. I think he will help us."

"You mean we can finally leave this place?"

"Yes."

Justinian laughed. "Point taken. Fine then." He walked around the corner. "But insane or not, you're still working for Dorusceronis and Co. So I can't let you follow me around. Now go."

OOC: Finally you post, Justinian :wink:

IC: "He laughs!" Rana scoffs, a surprised look on her face, though her arms remained crossed over her chest. "And who says I work for Dorusceronis or Atanracnad or anyone? You? And what do you know of it? You met me only today, remember, so don't pretend to know where my loyalties lay." she continued, surely making points in her favor. She had probed Justinian's mind earlier to find where he was, and so imprinted on herself his loyalties, psyche, and thought patterns. Once again her loyalties had been shifted, this time to the side of good.

"Did you even stop to think that I only served them to get close to them? To live among them with my only true intentions being to steal information for those allied against them?" she said, lowering her hands to rest on her hips. "Did you never wonder how the Underground City was penetrated in the first place?" she continued, stopping short of blatently stating she was the one who let the troops in.

Rana herself was still unsure as to if she was the one who did it. She remembered passing by the tavern where the their leader Trent was interrogating the bartender. She remembered having entered the tavern in the hopes of buying some brandy to bring back to the Underground City along with the other things she had in her basket. The next thing she remembered, she was hiding in the trunk of the tree near where Atanracnad and the others were speaking about the city being under seige.

Rana tried to remember if she had really done it, but came up with nothing. Her memories were lost somewhere in the heart of another persona, locked in a vault set out of her reach. This is how it always was with her personas. Rana sometimes even wondered how she remembered her own name, she was shifting so often nowadays. Rana knew she could remember if she only saw Trent again, because she was sure he was the one she imprinted on.

"I have to come with you, Justinian ... I need to know what I've done." she said quietly, letting her arms hang limp now. She heard Jarboe coming and quickly moved around the corner Justinian had come from. She pressed her back up against the wall, repeatedly whispering with tightly closed eyes, "I don't want to remember him ..."

Private Elben stood with his back to the window. If his watch commander came along he'd turn back to his post, gazing through the carved gap in the wall and watching over the city spread out below. But here... if he leant just a little bit to the right, he had a perfect view all the way down the corridor to the secretary's desk in the main hall. And, more importantly, to the gorgeous legs underneath the desk. Duty up here in the command centre was considered a soft job... carpeted, air-conditioned, and the best-looking office girls in the city.

Private Elben's reverie was rudely and terminally interrupted when Jarboe's arm snaked through the window and decapitated him. The corner of the corridor hid Elben's falling corpse from view, but the jet of blood painting the opposite wall was hard to miss. The secretary, a Miss Paige, looked up from her vidscreen, wondering at the muffled thud. Seconds later, Miss Paige's throat-rending shriek echoed through the plush corridors of the command centre, bringing guards running from their posts.

A trembling finger pointed to the wall, and the guards exchanged nervous glances as they advanced slowly, weapon muzzles scanning the pastel decor and pine doors. There had been reports of a disturbance on the lower levels, but nothing specific. Unless an intruder had managed to climb two hundred feet of sheer stone wall... but no, that was impossible. A suicide, maybe? They'd had a couple in the past few years...

The soft snick of a door closing snapped every man's head up, lasrifles pointing at the bloody passage. Footsteps, moving slowly and purposefully. Rifle barrels tracked them as they grew fainter... fainter... silence. Eyes turned to the sergeant, who hesitated before ordering the men forwards. They leapt around the corner of the passage, weapons aiming and seeking a target, to be greeted by... nothing. Well, not precisely nothing - Private Elben's headless body was there, still gouting blood, and his head lay a few feet away, wearing an expression of hurt surprise. But no intruder. No footprints in the blood. Nothing. Eyebrows were raised among the guards, and one advanced to the door near the window.

Another snick, this one from behind. A gentle whisper, like a breeze rustling through a room. And a series of soft, wet thuds, accompanied by an odd gasping sound like a fish that had just been hauled from the water.

The men spun, rifles raised. No longer would Miss Paige's legs entrance the young privates posted on guard duty... they lay, separate and twitching, on her immaculately tidy desk. Her arms lay beside them, the set of limbs arranged and lined up with the same precision as her pens that sat unmoved on the desktop. Her torso rested in the office chair, lolling to one side, and her head was neatly placed in the OUT tray, bleeding through a report on office finances, mouth still trying to form a scream. The door across the hall from the desk whispered shut as they turned, the sound of footsteps fading into the corridor beyond even as they listened. The corridor that led to the command centre.

OOC: UC, you can alter the decor if you like, should it not be in keeping with your vision of the city. God, I love being evil... :twisted:

OOC: Damn... just read your post Aystha. Maybe Rana could be near the command centre and sense Jarboe's arrival..? Since unless you happen to be in the corridor leading to the comman centre he won't be approaching you...

OOC: Sweet, sweet Henleaze ... isn't that the reason people read other posts before posting their own? :wink: It's okay, Justinian and I are probably very close to the corridor you're getting to, only we had the stairs route and you had to climb on the outside. It's alright, just run into us whenever you feel like it. ^^

Justinian grunted, facing the other way. "I'm still not sure I trust you. You could easily be lying. But I won't try to kill or get away from you. Come on, I'm going to Trent. He's slightly insane, but he's the one in charge of this mess, so I'm going to talk to him..." He turned around and saw Ranawhin cowering. "What? 'Don't want to remember hi--' Oh. It's fine. You've got strong shields, I can tell. Roberto could pierce them, with some effort...Jarboe simply being near you doesn't stand a chance. Come on." He walked off towards the strat-tac room where a soldier had told him Trent resided. He just hoped they didn't run into Jarboe again--or, just as bad, the daemons and their psionic ally.

ARRRRRRGH! Stupid wrong-sign-in-thing! I hate you I hate you I hate you!

ooc: Henleaze Avenue - the decor could have been added after the invasion. The previous style would have depended on what the building was used for before, and its previous owners. The brothers would have it quite minimalist, just stone walls and floors (and high ceilings seeing as how tall they are). Other citizens (other daemons, vampires, etc.) may have it different.

ic:

"We are getting closer", Atanracnad told the others. "Soon Trent will have us to face."

Legnerihes spoke up. "My lords, I request permission to slay Trent myself. I want to wreak vengeance upon him for the death of Thintaedkran."

Dorusceronis and Atanracnad looked at each other.

"I think we can allow this", said Dorusceronis. "Legnerihes is strong, and Trent is likely not a warrior himself. Few human leaders are these days."

"I agree", said Atanracnad. "We can intervene in the unlikely event that he has trouble."

Legnerihes said an incantation under his breath to prepare him for the coming battle.
"Onkeant teas bend ma tu dorqnass. Mojek us za daod sell ma, sferets ambroca. Nakrumonki es mi voi."

"If Justinian reaches Trent first, he could let him escape", said Roberto. "Armitage, how close is he?"

Meanwhile, Legnerihes began another incantation.
"Strangz us uld, doamunek mejt gront ma fuvar en zes kumeng fejt."

Justinian stumbled. "Arrgh...someone is using daemonic magics close by...I hate those, they always make me nauseous. But...I thought all the daemons were dead! So these must be the dictator brothers! This close...that is not good...

Armitage turned. "The man is close...not making any attempt to shield himself...maybe a floor away, a few rooms over. He is heading for Trent, I can tell. Hurry!

OOC: I'm not sure if I made it clear or not, but Legnerihes is not a daemon, he is a human, altered by magic who does not age. He is also a necromancer, and a warrior.

OOC: sorry for taking awhile in replying ... the stupid thread is supposed to email me when there are replies, but sometimes it decides not to. -sigh- Aw well ... no real harm done, good thing I came to check it on my own ... ^^

IC:He turned around and saw Ranawhin cowering. "What? 'Don't want to remember hi--' Oh. It's fine. You've got strong shields, I can tell. Roberto could pierce them, with some effort...Jarboe simply being near you doesn't stand a chance. Come on." He walked off towards the strat-tac room where a soldier had told him Trent resided. He just hoped they didn't run into Jarboe again--or, just as bad, the daemons and their psionic ally.

Rana looked to him as she spoke. "You don't understand how my telepathy works ... it's harder to keep shut than to keep open ... I can sometimes invade involuntarily, which is how I got my sanity back in the first place ... I heard you and immediately touched your mind." She followed quickly after him as he moved, stopping short as he stumbled.

"Someone is looking for us ... I can tell that much without telepathy." she said, helping him up as he stated where Trent was. "Alright ..." she responded, following close and checking behind them every few seconds, insecure now that she resided only in her own mind.

OOC: Noooo! Seer Edit is gone too. Are you not up to date on your dues or someting, UC? Watch out, Aystha--Medieval RP could be next!

OOC: I don't know about you, Jingcrondolia, but my edit and delete buttons are still up and functional ... :? ... perhaps it's just you? In any case, next time you rant, add some IC for us, okay? :P I can't post again until you and Henleaze do. As for dues, I don't have any because I'm not P2P ... lol ... maybe UC isn't either.

OOC: Noooo! Seer Edit is gone too. Are you not up to date on your dues or someting, UC?

OOC: I expect it died due to a lack of regularly posting.

OOC: Sweet, sweet Henleaze ... isn't that the reason people read other posts before posting their own? :wink: It's okay, Justinian and I are probably very close to the corridor you're getting to, only we had the stairs route and you had to climb on the outside. It's alright, just run into us whenever you feel like it. ^^
OOC: :P It took me ages to write my post, so by the time I posted it you'd posted too... but yeah, that sounds cool :D . Sorry this post is so short... at college, so I can't spend too long on here :cry: ...

IC: Jarboe moved down the long corridor at a loping run, racing past the featureless stone walls at a speed any man would have thought impossible. Shouts echoed from behind him, and laser fire hummed and spat from the grey stone. A bolt splashed across his back, scorching the dark green-black hide, but the flesh flowed and reformed, leaving no trace of the wound.
He could sense Ranawhin and Justinian, somewhere close by. The guards lay between him and them, and the control centre was ahead. The corridor stretched on - it looked straight, but there must have been a slight curve in the passage, for the end could not be seen. There were no doors or other passages branching away from this corridor, no windows or alcoves - just one featureless tunnel of stone stretching out before him. The shouts of the men behind grew fainter as he outdistanced them - the curve in the passage prevented them from firing on him, now he was so far ahead. There would be guards in the command centre, he was sure, many guards. But no matter - that would be dealt with when he reached the control room.

OOC: UC, what am I going to encounter once I get to the control room?

Michael Trent looked into a monitor, and watched as his troops were torn apart by zombies and daemons.

"Stupid, useless fools!" he said, both angry and worried.

Outside his office was a fairly large room. Into this room he had put ten of his best guards. All members of 'The Holy Order of The Unconquerable Light', that he ruled LuceEterna with. They were tall, muscular men with thick plate armour and tower shields. Both their armour and shields were made of magical metal, much harder than iron or steel. Their weapons were swords, great mighty swords with intricate patterns on the blade. They were clearly enchanted to increase damage.

The leader of Trent's bodyguards spoke to the rest.

"There is a creature approaching. You know that. He is tough and has taken out many troops, but he shall not get past us. We are members of the Order, no ordinary soldiers and we are strong. I hear him coming now."