Raridon
23-10-2005, 17:12
In a beautiful arc of his vermillion spear, Illitho severed the elderly man in half with little resistance. The blood fanned out behind him in a passionate escape from the trappings of elderly flesh, the bright red liquid contrasting the dull grey brickwork.
Illitho span his spear to conclude of the short combat, removing what little blood still clung onto the lithe weapon in a fluid and practiced motion. The arcane weapon span gracefully behind him as Illitho looked at the vacant gaze the man offered towards him. He reflected on the ease of this combat due to the abilities his heritage provided him. This old man, despite the first appearance of a doddering old pensioner who wore tattered robes and spoke in a feeble manner was in fact an extremely potent spellweaver. The magi had almost struck him with a fierce assault of electricity, but due to Illitho being accustomed to combating spell users, he had deflected it with a reflex movement of his spear. The result had been the electricity crackling spectacularly into a collection of overfilled metal bins which caused a resonating clatter as the electricity reverberated within it.
This back alley is no place for someone of his skill to fall, Illitho thought. He was more reflecting on his want to die in better circumstances than his recent target, preferably for some cause. Instead of working for the frequent employer who wanted a bodyguard, or the bitter housewife who wanted his husband killed due to his dealings with other women...who happened to be an extremely potent magi. Nevermind the fact that he had been dealing in extremely dark energies and corrupting youths with enchantments, neither facts bothered Illitho much. He tended to be transparent with his morality. No moral code had struck him as particular appealing, or convincing. Although Illitho understood duty. That much had been impressed upon his mind, as he was not human, but part of a scattered and dying race who's homeland and not so recently been destroyed.
Velmora, home of the Psi, a distant offshoot of humanity which possessed acute senses regarded all things arcane. A breed which was little known of, and never spliced into the lesser races to allow other societies to harness the talents Psi naturally possess. If outsiders knew anything at all of the Psi, they knew that they were secluded magi who held the Psi as the highest race and kept it so no other lesser breed came to enter the island.
"Who is there? What is going on?"
A prompt movement of feet and a gesture of magic removed Illtho from the scene, his presence gone like this man's life. He had returned to this city's rooftops where eyes had no reason to drift. His elegant entrance and departure had occurred in less than a half a dozen heartbeats, and his mind refused to dwell on his recent action. It was just a casual kill, a job which he had performed while moving onto somewhere where he might get a far more satisfying and challenging task.
The Psi almost glided from rooftop to rooftop, his near silent passage contrasting what one might expect such an armoured figure to sound like. His dark purple plate mail was forged from the island of Velmora, and attuned to the nature of a Psi. Psi armour allowed to user to perform complex arcane gestures, while still having the ability to deflect most blows. Unlike conventional plate mail however, it offered far less resistance to penetrating weapons, of both his homeland's equipment of javelins and arrows, and this current cities equipment of guns and grenades. The armour was more suited to combat beings who still used weapons of blade and shield, but Illitho had found no difficult adapting to this modern environment. A pistol could be removed from the hand, a shotgun shell still deflected. Illitho was forced to adapt, and he did so better than what little Psi infiltrated the world from the extreme failure that was the evacuation of Velmora.
Illitho made his way towards a very specific location, his spear retracted into a simple green pole which was humble to the eye. It was positioned upon his gauntlets, so that if combat did arise, he could utter a command word and have it retract into his weapon of choice. It often fooled a guard who was looking for a pistol, although many thought it to be just another part of his engraved gauntlets as it slotted into it for storage. He knew that there would be no guards to the location he went to, he was meeting an employer who had sought his services. He knew nothing of the nature of the task, nor who was asking him to work for him. Or her. Magi, spellsword, businessman, child, gunman, whoever. Few knew of him, so when someone deliberately contacted him IIllitho usually answered promptly.
He made his way towards an old newspaper press, which had been abandoned due to repeated attacks of arson against it. The small newspaper went under promptly due to the amount of hatred it received after a number of controversial articles. Apparently, the prime journalist for the small paper had been kidnapped, and few wanted to work under such conditions for such little pay. Their loss made for a good place to meet up with an employer, in a side of the city which few frequented due to said arson attacks.
The city was mostly in sleep, the night was cold and rain threatened to approach. The moon looked down upon the fluid figure who flowed down through the ceiling of the paper factory to await his employer. Armoured in his equipment, he was ready to be assaulted. On normal tasks, he would wear something more casual and something which would fit in...but he wanted to make both an impression and a precaution towards his employer.
Illitho awaited the man...or being who summoned him.
(OOC This is an open rp. Please, if you post in here, make an effort. At least 3 paragraphs for a usual post. The setting is a dark modern city, which has elements of the arcane in it. Magic users are not common, but it is not remarkable to have magi walk the street. Guns can be enchanted and such. I will accept some remarkable races in this, but please, normal humans would be appreciated and looked upon extremely favourably. No vampires or werewolves, and try and avoid cliches.
Power levels are around medium. Despite what I might say, my character is not that powerful. He has weaknesses, and operates effectly against certain things.
You can play whoever you want, but I do need someone who is the contact who wants to employ or just talk to my character. Hopefully we can make this flow into something else. Feel free to introduce a new element, as long as it is not too major later on. Thanks.
Have fun, and use common sense!)
Illitho span his spear to conclude of the short combat, removing what little blood still clung onto the lithe weapon in a fluid and practiced motion. The arcane weapon span gracefully behind him as Illitho looked at the vacant gaze the man offered towards him. He reflected on the ease of this combat due to the abilities his heritage provided him. This old man, despite the first appearance of a doddering old pensioner who wore tattered robes and spoke in a feeble manner was in fact an extremely potent spellweaver. The magi had almost struck him with a fierce assault of electricity, but due to Illitho being accustomed to combating spell users, he had deflected it with a reflex movement of his spear. The result had been the electricity crackling spectacularly into a collection of overfilled metal bins which caused a resonating clatter as the electricity reverberated within it.
This back alley is no place for someone of his skill to fall, Illitho thought. He was more reflecting on his want to die in better circumstances than his recent target, preferably for some cause. Instead of working for the frequent employer who wanted a bodyguard, or the bitter housewife who wanted his husband killed due to his dealings with other women...who happened to be an extremely potent magi. Nevermind the fact that he had been dealing in extremely dark energies and corrupting youths with enchantments, neither facts bothered Illitho much. He tended to be transparent with his morality. No moral code had struck him as particular appealing, or convincing. Although Illitho understood duty. That much had been impressed upon his mind, as he was not human, but part of a scattered and dying race who's homeland and not so recently been destroyed.
Velmora, home of the Psi, a distant offshoot of humanity which possessed acute senses regarded all things arcane. A breed which was little known of, and never spliced into the lesser races to allow other societies to harness the talents Psi naturally possess. If outsiders knew anything at all of the Psi, they knew that they were secluded magi who held the Psi as the highest race and kept it so no other lesser breed came to enter the island.
"Who is there? What is going on?"
A prompt movement of feet and a gesture of magic removed Illtho from the scene, his presence gone like this man's life. He had returned to this city's rooftops where eyes had no reason to drift. His elegant entrance and departure had occurred in less than a half a dozen heartbeats, and his mind refused to dwell on his recent action. It was just a casual kill, a job which he had performed while moving onto somewhere where he might get a far more satisfying and challenging task.
The Psi almost glided from rooftop to rooftop, his near silent passage contrasting what one might expect such an armoured figure to sound like. His dark purple plate mail was forged from the island of Velmora, and attuned to the nature of a Psi. Psi armour allowed to user to perform complex arcane gestures, while still having the ability to deflect most blows. Unlike conventional plate mail however, it offered far less resistance to penetrating weapons, of both his homeland's equipment of javelins and arrows, and this current cities equipment of guns and grenades. The armour was more suited to combat beings who still used weapons of blade and shield, but Illitho had found no difficult adapting to this modern environment. A pistol could be removed from the hand, a shotgun shell still deflected. Illitho was forced to adapt, and he did so better than what little Psi infiltrated the world from the extreme failure that was the evacuation of Velmora.
Illitho made his way towards a very specific location, his spear retracted into a simple green pole which was humble to the eye. It was positioned upon his gauntlets, so that if combat did arise, he could utter a command word and have it retract into his weapon of choice. It often fooled a guard who was looking for a pistol, although many thought it to be just another part of his engraved gauntlets as it slotted into it for storage. He knew that there would be no guards to the location he went to, he was meeting an employer who had sought his services. He knew nothing of the nature of the task, nor who was asking him to work for him. Or her. Magi, spellsword, businessman, child, gunman, whoever. Few knew of him, so when someone deliberately contacted him IIllitho usually answered promptly.
He made his way towards an old newspaper press, which had been abandoned due to repeated attacks of arson against it. The small newspaper went under promptly due to the amount of hatred it received after a number of controversial articles. Apparently, the prime journalist for the small paper had been kidnapped, and few wanted to work under such conditions for such little pay. Their loss made for a good place to meet up with an employer, in a side of the city which few frequented due to said arson attacks.
The city was mostly in sleep, the night was cold and rain threatened to approach. The moon looked down upon the fluid figure who flowed down through the ceiling of the paper factory to await his employer. Armoured in his equipment, he was ready to be assaulted. On normal tasks, he would wear something more casual and something which would fit in...but he wanted to make both an impression and a precaution towards his employer.
Illitho awaited the man...or being who summoned him.
(OOC This is an open rp. Please, if you post in here, make an effort. At least 3 paragraphs for a usual post. The setting is a dark modern city, which has elements of the arcane in it. Magic users are not common, but it is not remarkable to have magi walk the street. Guns can be enchanted and such. I will accept some remarkable races in this, but please, normal humans would be appreciated and looked upon extremely favourably. No vampires or werewolves, and try and avoid cliches.
Power levels are around medium. Despite what I might say, my character is not that powerful. He has weaknesses, and operates effectly against certain things.
You can play whoever you want, but I do need someone who is the contact who wants to employ or just talk to my character. Hopefully we can make this flow into something else. Feel free to introduce a new element, as long as it is not too major later on. Thanks.
Have fun, and use common sense!)