NationStates Jolt Archive

It's late summer, merging into early fall and the land is ripe with grain, fruit, livestock, and bandits. Not any old bandits either, for the city of Orlando doesn't patrol it's roads very well. No, these were lesser demons merely disguised as bandits, and they'd pursued us for ten exhausting days across the Ever Grass Plains.

Nari, Black Fang and I had sent them screaming into oblivion, but I'd taken a couple of nasty wounds as had Black Fang - and healing him had taken precedence. I'd held enough of the power back to tend to myself later but by the time we'd made it to the massive gates of Orlando I was reeling and not really aware of where we were headed. I had passed through Orlando years ago, but didn't remember much about it. One city with pretentions of being a real kingdom looks much like another. And in the end, one inn looks much like another.

I knew that it wouldn't be the best inn in the city, for I remembered some folderol at the gates about the eldest son of the Prince of the City of Orlando being married in a day or two...or something to that effect. I remembered a clean stables that understood the special needs of Helcorns, and how normal horses normally reacted to the carnivorous entities that just looked kinda like a horse. I got all 21 hands of him brushed and a large swine loosed for him to feed on, then followed Nari to an inn not any too distant. I remember stairs, a large room and a bed who's softness I never noticed at the time.

While I slept the second of my two Donas, inborn Gifts, went to work and healed me, leaving no scars or aches behind. Being dead exhausted is the only time I don't pay for the healing with the burst of pain that accompanies the healing- all of the pain of weeks of natural healing hitting one in one fell swoop. Strong men pass out from it. I'd alreadied passed out.

Late morning birdsong woke me as did the brilliant sunlight that streamed in the window that Nari had thrown open.

"Come on, up Orome, bath, clean clothes and breakfast are waiting."

I stretched as I slid out of the bed and rolled my eyes. It was an inn, maybe even a nice inn, but some how I felt we wouldn't be there long.

Nari had felt as exhausted as Orome looked when they'd finally passeed through the gates of Orlando. The gate guard had taken their names and other information with his own weariness. Apparently the Prince's eldest son and heir was to be wed in but a few days, and the city was filled to the brim with invited and uninvited guests.

However, much coin and no little suggestion on her part had found the pair a suite of rooms at a relatively good quality inn, and housing for Black Fang. That had actually been the more difficult part of the proposition. Helcorns weren't common and were hard to deal with. Nari had watched, concerned for her companion, as Orome, moving like little more than a Dwarven autononam, groomed the burly Helcorn and saw to his feeding. Nari's flying carpet has disappeared the instant she she dismissed it, and the pair had trudged to the inn just around the corner.

Nari knew that Ororme was barely aware of arriving at the inn and had shaken her head as Orome fell into her bed completely clothed. That was entirely unlike the normally fastidious Blade Mistress, but ten days without sleep or significant rest would reduce any one to that state Nari figured as she tiredly pulled Orome's riding boots off and headed for her own bedroom across the suite. A storm had sprung up on the Plains two days ago and Nari had been able to tap into it to reviatalize herself, but had needed the extra energy to help stave off the attack the 'bandits" had thought the storm would cover.

Nari let Orome sleep for a solid twelve hours and had the servants bring up water for a hot bath. Nari had had hers a couple of hours earlier, but she knew that Orome would want one before she ate. Breakfast would be lunch down in the Inns tavern, or perhaps at one of the large public feasts that various digintaries were sponsoring as part of the festivities. She and Orome would decide that when the Nihongoan Blade Mistress was up and bathed.

"Come on, up Orome, bath, clean clothes and breakfast are waiting." Nari sang out as she threw open the bedrooms wide windows, letting in almost noon time sun and bird song. "Actually almost lunch, and there are many choices as to what to do for lunch."

Nari explained about the impending wedding as as the inn's servants brought up a large tub and filled it with steaming water. Orome barely waited until the servants had left before stripping off her all but ruined clothes and sliding with a greatful sigh into the hot water.

The Ever Grass Plains were fertile rolling land with many underground aquifers, but little surface water, and there hadn't been any place to bathe, much less safe time to bathe in the last ten days. Orome had to have been feeling like a dirt gollem Nari knew as she watched her companion scrub herself down vigorously.

"Have the servants bring more water would you 'Nari and have them burn those clothes. I don't think any one would want to salvage them.."

"I'm ahead of you, they should be bringin up more water any moment now." Nari commented with a grin as she handed Orome some fragarant bathing herbs. "Here, not your favorite scent, we're long out of that but we should be able to restock here."

"If the merchants haven't sold out." Orome groused and Nari just shook her head.

"You want to be back out on the Ever Grass playing prey for demons?" She asked as Orome dunked herself one last time.

They broke off their banter as the inns staff entered with more hot water and a pile of soft thick towels.

The Arch Magius of Necromancy had once again managed to get himself into a bad situation. The magically disguised wizard had run into a group of village idiots that had decided to waylay him for his belongings. These idiots seemed to think that Worfan had some money on him and they wanted to relief him of its burden.

Worfan laughed as the leader of the group said something about handing over all his items including his ring, staff, and cloak. The brigands were not impressed with Worfan's laugh and charged the old man armed with daggers and short swords. One of them even fired an arrow from his hunting bow.

The Worfan finally decided to reveal himself to these now very doomed fools. The disguise of an old man with a black staff suddenly became the visage of a skeleton like figure with burning red eyes. The Aura of darkness and death suddenly took hold and the brigands halted in their tracks. Some of them were cowering in front of Worfan.

The dark night concealed the incident from the rest of the locals in the nearby village. Worfan laughed and started to speak the command word to the staff. He pointed it at the first bandit that had started to cower in front of him. The poor boy cried out in pain as his very soul was being ripped out of his body and being drawn towards the Black staff that seemed to gobble his soul hungrily like a fiend from hell.

The Lich then started muttering an incantation and sphere of dark energy formed in front of him. The brigands started to quiver and one of them ran away. The red eyes of Worfan focused on the one trying to escape. He mentally sent the sphere at the runner. The brigand only made a few paces before falling to the ground dead…

Worfan said to the rest in a superior tone, "I am tired of this, I suggest you tell me where the headband of intellect is located! If you do not I will send your souls screaming to the abyss. If you do tell me, I will spare your lives and not harm you personally."

The leader of the brigands said in a cowering tone, "We don’t know great one. I beg of you spare our lives!" Worfan merely nodded seeing that these fools really did not know where the artifact was located. Worfan ordered his staff to release the spirits and kill them…

A barrage of tormented and bloodthirsty souls and spirits literally charged from the staff and consumed the poor unfortunate souls.

Worfan sighed and said, "Enjoy, Your journey to the Abyss. If you happen to see my master there tell him Worfan sent you!"

The disguise of the old man suddenly overtook the form of the Lich and the ancient human wizard muttered another incantation and vanished from sight….

The bodies were gone, There was no evidence of a fight and not even the weapons and blood were visible…

A lone dark figure (http://i23.photobucket.com/albums/b360/DMG2005/Sebastian2.jpg) appeared o'er the crest of a grassy hill and saw before him peace. Riding for three days straight without any signs of civilization save the occasional oxen trail or wood fence, Sebastian was in need of a good rest and warm food... perhaps a spot of ale.

The sun was descending as he rode into the city gates on the back of a faithful steed that responded to the name Charlie. It wasn't his horse, but it had served him well over the past week and a half; certainly better than it would have served its prior owner, a small town thief. The woman had snatched the knight's bag of coins and when he ordered her to cease and desist she made for the door of the inn and hopped on to her dark horse. However, she didn't get far as the horse was still tethered to its poll and Sebastian came steaming out the door the moment she noticed her escape was in jeopardy. Not wanting to face the cloaked man, the thief leapt from the horse, the bag of coins falling in the process, and dashed off into the forest. Giving chase wouldn't have done any good and wasted valuable time and energy that he could use on his quest. So instead, he slipped the owner of the inn a coin for the troubles and rode off into the night on the back of the dark hose... Charlie.

That was ten long days ago. Since then, the Knight had to deal with a pack of ruffians, a pair of wily thieves, a drunken brawl, and a series of mysterious disappearances. They all turned out to be nothing big, a little alcohol there, a little lover's plight there, but they certainly were tiring... especially not having in slept in a bed in several nights. But that was all going to change now. He had arrived at the city of Orlando. There were certain to be comfortable inns and beds there and while crime might normally be prevalent, perhaps it would be down right now. Word was that there was a big and important wedding taking place and perhaps the wealthy groom would hire or inspire there to be extra guards on patrol to keep things quiet and peaceful. Maybe, just maybe, he would able to rest calmly and wake without a problem in the world... just his quest.

After passing through the city gate without problem - the guard duty didn't seem to be that sophisticated - Sebastian rode on the back of Charlie down the streets of Orlando looking for a nice place to stay. Covered in a dark brown-black coat, he was a nobody; the eye seemingly skipped over him and paid him no heed as he wandered into the foreign city. Luckily, though through somber means, the knight was able to stay in relatively nice establishments thanks to the fortune he had been left by his predecessor and mentor, Miguel de Cervantes. It enabled him to stay in higher quality inns where there were less low-lives to deal with and shady characters to be wary of.

Night had come and Sebastian was weary of his travels. Without looking any farther to sample the other establishments, he slid off of his steed and walked Charlie around back to the stables of the closest inn. "Take good care of him," he said as most patrons often did as he handed the bridle to the caretaker of the stables. Tossing the man a few coins to cover the charge of taking care of his horse, he walked back to the front and away from the foul smelling beasts. Normally, with his own horse, he would give a few extra coins to ensure that his horse was well taken care of, but in this situation it didn't seem worth it. Charlie had been ridden hard and he might not even last another day without needing some serious rest and pasture time.

When he arrived at the front of the inn, he looked up at the sign and read, "The Silver Goblet Inn." He propped open the door and peaked inside; it appeared to be a fair establishment and he surely wasn't going anywhere else at this point. "Why not..." His eyelids were becoming heavy and his gaze was unfocused as he walked up to the caretaker of the inn and asked for a room. He was shown to his room and gave the nice man a few coins for his hospitality. There wasn't much else he remembered before falling dead asleep on the comfortable beds...

---

The next morning was all the more beautiful when he wiped the sleep from his eyes and realized that he was actually sleeping in a bed in a warm inn. When he tried to move, he found the familiar weight of his armor still pressing down on his body. Apparently, he had been so tired he had just fallen asleep in his armor the second he touched the bed. In fact, he didn't even use the sheets or blanket; the bed looked as though it had just been made... must've been a deep sleep.

There was a bucket of water in the corner of the room - assumedly it was clean and fresh - that Sebastian splashed on his face to fully wake him up. The open window allowed a cool and soothing breeze to blow in, countering the warmth of the new morning's sun. It was a good day to be alive. He was one more step in the direction of completing his quest... or so that was what the rumors had said. His stomach suddenly gargled loudly, reminding him that in all his weariness, he had actually missed dinner the night before. "Time to fix that...!" he said enthusiastically as he burst open the door and began walking down the hallway to the stairs that lay at the end. His armor and sword were connected in their appropriate spots to his armor (so that they did not give the appearance of something hidden beneath his cloak), which was shrouded by the dark cloak he wore over it; again, he was a nobody.

Sebastian walked heavily down the stairs until he reached the bottom landing. There were few people around this early in the morning, but luckily, the bartender was one of them. "Pint of ale and whatever ya got that you can call food," the knight said as he leaned on the bar and spoke to the man cleaning a mug. A moment later, the bartender returned from the backroom with a loaf of bread and some butter in a little bucket, which he handed to Sebastian as he began filling a pint of ale from the nearby keg. "Thank you kindly, my good man," he added gratefully as he slipped the bartender a few extra coins and took his food and drink to a table situated by the fire. It had long since gone out from the night before, but somehow... somehow it was still warming to be near...

The old man suddenly in a flash of light and magical power just appeared at the outskirts of the City of Orlando. Worfan was glad that his teleporation spell had managed to land him in a safe civilized city as opposed to that village full of stupid youths looking to steal his stuff.

The disguised Lich began to walk towards the city's Gate. Worfan walked slowly in the sunlight. He mostly did this to give the impression he was an old man and not a creature of the undead. The last thing he needed would be to fight the city guard because of his unnatural existence. The people on the road could not see past the cloak's illusion and his disguise held. The Lich entered into the without incident despite his very slow ascent inside.

Worfan in his disguised form headed towards the shadowy areas of the city. He tried his best to avoid the hated sunlight. It's bright rays did not actually harm him like lesser undead but it was annoying and uncomfortable. The Lich finally decided to head to a place that could cover him in the daylight. Worfan found a place called The Silver Goblet Inn. Worfan walked inside his cloak's magic still holding.

The aged wizard walked to the caretaker of the inn and in a raspy voice said, "I seek rest from my long journey." He then handed the mortal five copper coins. The Lich could have been more generous in his bounty however, he did not want to attract attention. The sight of a rich old man would bring in the thieves and bandits in a heart beat. Worfan was hardly a fool to attract such attention when he was trying to lay low and find the elusive headband of intellect…


Worfan went into his room and rested trying hard to avoid the rays of the accursed sun. The night would eventually set in and then Worfan would begin his hunt for his artifact. It was all just a matter of time something Worfan had plenty of….

Hatusri had been travelling for a number of weeks when he came upon a ridge that lead to another city. Fishing out a worn and tattered map he looked down at it, and decided that the city was most likely Orlando. Heading into the town, he looked for all the world like an elderly man, save his feet which were the only part of him exposed beside his reddish grey hair.

As he walked forward, he suddenly found himself going backwards. Stopping he looked down at his feet and tried to step backward in hopes of going forward, though it didn't quite work and he just went backwards again. With a faint shrug, he simply turned around and began walking in reverse to the city.

Walking into the city in reverse, he paused and gave a begger a coin as well as asking for the name of a nearby tavern. Finding he could walk forward again, he turned around and continued on to the The Silver Goblet, which he'd been told had a silver coloured cup on it's sign. Every begger he met got a coin from him as he was a gentle soul even with the martial skills he'd mastered and the extensive training he'd recieved. He never killed nor maimed and when it was absolutely necessary rendered his foe unconsious rather injured in a conventional manner. He stepped into the inn and looked around to get his eys adjusted before heading to a table to get some food.

Powell was thinking on the currents. Which meant he wasn't watching where he was going. Levitation was not something new to him. He found it to be one of the few things he still truly enjoyed. And that was a great deal. Then again, being a fallen god, enjoying anything was a great deal. Oh sure, eating was nice, and other pleasures and senses were something to look forward to, but living life as only part of what he once was, well, that was not enjoyable. He flew fast, creating a slipstream of air behind him that altered the transmission of light, obscuring the view of anybody that could look through it. But he was too high for many to do so.

He set down in a small wooded area. There was a couple of deer about, so he selected one by sensing outward for it, and quickly killed it with his power. It wasn't much, just a pinch of a nerve, and a slit in a tiny vein, and thus did the creature die. Powell skinned it and roasted the meat, heating it on is hand as it came to his mouth. When he was finished, he left the rest, raw and unadultered, ready for the flies to come and lay their eggs.

The night before had been nice, another set of hours spent in enjoyment. There were two things that really got his blood to boil, the first being sex, since it bordered on the feeling he had known as a divine being, and the other was battle, since it allowed him to cleanse the foul things. The barmaid was a nice girl, tidy in her appearance, and thorough in her work. It had truly been a great night.

Today was different. He had flown for miles, and was tired. True, it was barely passed dawn, but he hadn't slept last night, and Powell was getting weary. Deciding to accept it, he lay down and shut his eyes, commanding his conscience mind to rest, while his sub-conscience awoke and began to assimialte the details of the area around him. In this state, he could watch one and know all, allowing himself to be open to all that was occurring around him. It had educated him greatly, and was one reason that he was able to keep his head low. The other was ability. His last conscious thought before nodding off was a mental reminder to visit Ytherram as soon as he could.

Powell awoke from his rest rejuvenated. Time had barely passed, nothing more than a half hour, but it was enough. He had been going on half-rest for a week, and had intended to rest last night, but one thing had led to another. His closed for a minute, as he located himself, and chose the path necessary. Opening his eyes and rising up, he began to fly northwards, towards AH. Ytherram's cave was located nearby. The dragon was wiser than his age, which meant a lot, and knew his father. Nothing like trying to get in edgeways with the old man, and any tool could help. Plus, he needed to know if anything of import had recently occurred. Or if too little of importance had occurred. He hoped for the former.

Shooting above the clouds, Powell looked out using the higher vision arts he knew. In front of him was a path traced to Ytherram's cave. The ancient lizard had a number of entrances, so Powell elected one of the aerial access points. Ytherram would know of is arrival, and his identity, more rapidly. Not wise for even a fallen god to drop in unannounced on a dragon.

As full and long as my mane of hair was I was perfectly willing to let 'Nari summon errant winds to dry it quickly. Soon I was dry and dressed in my remaining set of clean clothes.

"I need to find a pack mount that will be tolerated by Black Fang, and replinish my wardrobe." I groussed. My pack horse had fallen to the demons attack the first night.

"I could conjure.." Nari started but I cut her off gently.

"No thanks my friend, I'd rather not have you die and all your creations vanish with you. Though the comotion that might cause.." I grinned and in instants both of us were giggling. "Besides Illu'varr is just across the river and they have an Embassy here and that means those that cater to their fashions. I have the money to spare." I prefered the Illu'varran fashions to others and if they showed off most of my body, I never minded the added benefit it had of distracting male opponents. Apparently men couldn't concentrate while wondering when what I was wearing was going to fall off.

"And Orlando's Prince doesn't care for the Order, so I should be able to shop in peace. They have only an infirmary here in Orlando, no chapter house."

Nari nodded. She knew well the reception I recieved of late from the powerful Sisterhood. That one of their rare Voyars had up and left the Order had commenced a great scandel that had seen a noticeable decline in their influence. I hadn't cared about the effect or the consequences. I wouldn't allow myself to be used by them any longer.

Grabbing up a heavy purse lined with fine maille to protect it from pickpockets I tossed it to Nari who made it vanish - further protection from being robbed. I didn't need to bring my weapons, they would come to my hand when called. I slid on soft sandals and we scampered down the stairs giggling like girls as we headed out of the inn. Though as we passed my eyes took in every one visable, and remembered them.

Hatusri had just received his simple meal when a pair of girls, one somewhat strange in appearence came bounding down. One of the two looked around the room, the stranger of the two, in a manner a normal girl wouldn't nor would it be entirely noticable to someone who hadn't lived amongst an extended family that had a similar manner of looking about.

As he watched from his beneath the coverings he wore, he decided that she might be an artist in the warrior skills, and decided to follow. As it was the reason for his journey, he wondered if she would know an style he was unfamiliar with. He thought it would be unlikely as it was a commonly held belief amongst the Hiragana family that there were few, if any, warrior arts unknown to them.

Standing, he paid his bill and departed to follow the two. It was his goal to learn further styles before he could return home or seek to break the curses he had, or at least find out what they were and did.

Orlando, the prosperous city-state with pretensions of being a kingdom, the first port north of the Massif, and the last port one could reach before the river reached the Sea of Fallen Stars. Quite the busy place this was too, with people bustling to and fro, going about their business with an efficiency the battle-hardened warrior had never seen before outside of any city. And it has only gotten busier these days, what with the Prince's wedding coming up and all, from what I've heard over drinks at the many establishments they have here. These foppish, decadent city slickers, grown soft from generations of comfortable living. Grown fat, even. Had it been just six years ago, I would never have thought anyone could grow so fat; now, no matter which city I end up in, it seems that lard-tubs are a fairly common sight wherever I go. And their soldiers......ha, laughable. You call them warriors? I call them boys. Boys in armour who know not what they are doing, and who probably can't even use the pikes in their hands correctly. I could probably dispose of a whole troop of them with a mere thought. But then again, there isn't a point in doing so; I'll only be inviting trouble for myself, and it's not like there's much profit to be made from doing so either. Now, if there was somebody actually paying me a fortune to do so, now that's another matter altogether......

My given name is Zhe Tian, and I am a nomad from the Evergrass Plains, hailing from the most influential Tribe in the Plains, the Tribe of Zhao. I am the second son of Chief Zhao Xuan, the famed plainsland warrior Desert Tiger, and my clan knows me too as the Black Panther. I am a swordfighter of the Way of the Sparrowhawk, the swordplay of the nomadic tribes known across the lands for what is apparently the ability of its practitioners to seemingly fly in the air; I know better, being a follower of the Way myself, but I can see how outsiders would think that way. For what swordplay on this world is as beautiful as that of the Way of the Sparrowhawk, with its intricate evasions, spectacular aerial maneuvers, and clinical finishing? There is none, enough said.

Twenty-four winters have passed since I came into this world. And of these, I have spent the last six of these winters away from home. See, in my land there's a legend about one of our own who went out into the world beyond our plains, equipped with only his skills in a blade as well as his very own blade, forged by our own people. In his travels, this man went from strength to strength in his technique with a blade; it is said that eventually, he became a warrior without peer in all the world, going so far as to having changed the course of history by the edge of his blade. The man's name has been lost in the many stories told about him; we only remember enough about him to refer to this man now as Jian Shen, the Saint of Swords. Now rumours say he is still wandering the lands of the outsiders, seeking one who could finally defeat his peerless skills with a blade. Imagine the pride we nomads hold in his honour; here is a man who is not only the foremost practitioner of the Way of the Sparrowhawk, but the foremost swordsmaster in all the lands of all time. Naturally, the dream of every young nomad, training him or herself in the arts of the blade, would be to one day master the Way of the Sparrowhawk to the point where he or she would one day surpass Jian Shen, and thus claim from him, the title and the prestige of the Saint of Swords.

I am no different from these dreamers, except possibly in one point; no matter where in the Plains I go, all the Tribes hail me as the Sparrowhawk swordfighter of my generation with the most potential in the arts, possibly the one with the most chance of achieving what many others before me have failed; the quest to prove myself the true Saint of Swords. Yes, this is definitely a dream I cherish and hold dear; it is why I left the Plains six winters ago, to lead a wandering life as a mercenary. A sword for hire. Willing to do any job for the right amount of gold in my pocket. And all this while, retracing the steps that the Saint of Swords is said to have taken during his travels.

I have traversed almost all of the lands east of the Plains during this time, and learned many things. Even though the life of a plainsdweller was a harsh one, it was also a sheltered life in a way; so many new things I had learned which I didn't even know about, back when I was just a mere sprite herding the aurochs herds over the grazing lands. I learned to smoke, to drink like a fish. To gamble my life savings away, and win it all back (and more) by swindling the poor fools who try to push their luck with me. To seek pleasure in the company of women dazzled by what they see as the exotic charm of a tribal nomad; although never those who sell their virtue for money. Oh, no, I have far more taste than that. I'd rather charm women the old-fashioned way; it's harder work, but it's so much more worth it. All in all, I had learned to live the life of a rogue, to live life by the edge, taking things one day at a time, and revelling in the pleasures life has to offer. Ah, if Father were to learn of what I have become during my travels, he would die of a heart attack.

But not forgetting my goal, oh no. In that same time, I have had many chances to hone my skills, and hone my skills I did; against the poor dolts who pass for warriors in Navarin, Hyannis, and the other small, insignificant western lands. Against the far worthier warriors of the Nihongo, and the assassins of the Alamut; yeh, these were true tests of my skill for me, and I passed them all. Just as the Saint of Swords had done before me, I had defeated every one of the famed warriors that Nihongo and Alamut could send at me, save one; she who the Nihongonians say is the avatar of their goddess of swords, Kai’iel. Apparently she is in their lands no more; and from what more I have heard during my travels, she is also the one warrior princess whom the Saint of Swords is especially keen to test his blade against, having never had the chance to do so as yet. My interest is piqued, sure; if even the Saint of Swords wishes to test himself against her, then I must, too. But she wasn't in the western lands no more; I would have to seek her out, just as I'm still seeking HIM out.

But it's been six years, and I've scoured the all the western lands since then for a worthy opponent. All that is left is the northern lands and the eastern lands, but it's been six years, and I'm homesick. That is why I've taken a ship from the Bay of Xaranadu, that sails across the shoreline of the Sea of Fallen Stars; that would eventually land me where I am now. The city state of Orlando, where the Prince is about to be married in a few days, and all is in a tizzy. I'd continue my quest after I've visited the lands of my birth, come back to my ancestral lands, even if just for a while.

I'm practically at the doorsteps of my land now, but Orlando has proven itself a rich hunting ground so far. I'd taken and completed a few jobs here already, and now I've got funds to spare. And hey, it's the festivities, so no harm staying around for a few days, no?

So there I was, having just relieved the purse of a chump who tried to relieve mine with a puny little knife. I'm guessing they'll find his body in the back alley a few days after the whole shebang, poor filthy little beggar. I probably did him a favour too, relieving him of his miserable life. There wasn't much in his purse, but it's good enough for a gamble, and that's where I'm headed, a gambling house. After a few drinks, of course.

Seems like the Prince has booked the best inns in town, from what I heard, so it seems like I'd have to settle for second-best while they're still at it. That's why I'm here right now, wandering the streets with a full purse in hand, and no yahoo dares to touch me or my purse after they saw what I did with the last one who was foolish enough to do so. If I ever lose my purse, it'll be at the gambling table or the bar, not through the hands of some filthy cutpurse now.

Ah, there's one. The Silver Goblet Inn, so I see. So I shoulder my treasured Ultimatum on my shoulder, the treasure blade of the Tribes of the Evergreen Plains with few equals in the land, which marks me as someone not to be messed with, lest you want to make your wife a widow or your children orphans. That is, if you have wives or children in the first place. So I make to enter, and out comes from the door two tasty-looking ladies. It takes one to know one, though; and as a warrior, I sense at first glance that neither of these ladies are of the soft type of the city; they're warrior stock, hardy beneath their ravishing beauty, heck, that one there looks like she's stronger than even I am. I don't know how I know this, I just......do. I would like to spar with her; after all, isn't that the purpose of my long journey? They're still beauties though, and in fact they're more attractive to me because of that; I have had enough with the spoiled, soft girls of the cities dazzled by a bit of fancy swordplay.

Of course, how would I know that of these two warrior beauties, one of them was the very goddess of swords of Nihongo I had been seeking? I've never seen her before up to this point, although she did interest me at first glance. Although not as much as the other did, though; now that other one, she really caught my eye. With features not unlike mine, and those eyes that seduce with a glance. Man, she struck fire in my heart, and in my loins, that girl did. And that ravishing smile. Oh, damned. Am I falling in love? Me, the infamous rogue, the Black Panther, charmer of women wherever he goes? I can scarce believe it, but that's how it seems to me.

"Howdy there, ladies!", I tip my hat to them. And just like that, in a flitter of giggles they were gone. She who is as seductive as the fox spirit of lore, for it was not later would I know that there was a reason that she was so. Her friend was fine, but it was her I had set my eyes on. But oh, I must have flirted with Lady Fate for far too long; she must have gotten jealous of the competition, for when I turned back, I can't see her for some reason. Oh well. That's Fate for you; capricious of mood, and jealous to boot. I wonder if I'll ever see that looker again, she with the eyes of eternal seduction.

Hmmm, wait a minute. Who's that young lad who just went past me? I sense conflicting energies in him; he's walking the same way as those ladies had just now. What is he up to? I'm interested now, interested enough to forget my original motive of drink and the dice. When I'm sure he's not looking, I leap up onto the rooftops, and from there tail him. There's something about this guy I'm not sure whether I like. What's he up to, hmmm?

"we are..."

"Being followed, and not by one but by two." Nari grins as we enter the stables and I make my way to the immense stall where Black Fang was still dozing. It was to be expected, for he'd gone with out true rest as long as we had and he'd taken a heart thrust that I'd barely managed to save him from dieing from.

*nosiey mares* He grumbled in my thoughts as I reached out to assure him that he need not fully rouse himself. I was more concerned for him than I would let him realize. He was old for a Helcorn, their energies generally burning their physical form out in less than a quarter century, and he'd been fully grown when he'd been bonded to me over twenty years ago.

*rest old friend and we'll hunt this evening, as the long twilight sets in.* I replied with a mental caress. I'd miss him when he went to his final release, but that was the circle of existance, and who knew, I might find him reborn again some day. Though likely as not he'd not remember me, for even demons forgot in the transference of rebirth.

Once I'd reassured him that I'd find him some more rubies to set in his head stall he drifted deeper into his resting state and Nari and I headed out of the stables.

"If you want to follow us that is your choice, though it would be easier if you just accompanied us. And if you are looking to challenge me, I'd strongly suggest against it. I'm not a part of the Sisterhood any longer and I am not obligated to heal you once I've bloodied your day." I walked directly up to the young man in the grey robes who'd followed us from the Inn. The senses I'd inherited from my Illu'varr mother twitched, there was something imposed upon him, a burnt amber scent that spoke of witchery of an ill nature.

I'd leave Nari to deal with the other one, she had had an odd sparkle in her eyes since the flame haired Tribesman had tipped his cap at us, an odd custom that had had me blinking for a moment - though not startled enough to miss the quality of the sword he carried or the cat graceful movments he evidenced as we passed him. I'd mark him as a warrior of the Way of the Sparrowhawk, having fought a few of them before, sending some of them onward, while healing others if they had earned it.

He'd given me a most thorough once over but had been Nari his eyes had lingered on. Which suited me just fine, for my thoughts were filled with my missing husband to be, father of my twins, Corum Jhaelen Irsai, Prince of the Vadagh. Corum if I ever find you you will have so much to answer for!

Nari stopped short of the Hellcorn's stall, and looked over a delicate grey palfrey. "Oh are you a pretty thing, but I doubt you are as comfortable as my sky rug" She told the mare as she fed her a lump of sugar, and kept an eye on the roof tops across the street. She'd caught but one glimpse of his brilliant red hair as he'd moved along apace with her and Orome and their first follower.

"If Orome hadn't been so intent, I might have paused and given him another smile" Nari confided to the gray as the mares velvet soft lips nuzzled her palm seeking more sugar. She summoned another lump for her pleasure, and continued her careful, oblique watch of the rooftops. Oh he is goodHer thoughts were admiring as she caught only the faintest glimps of movement, more felt that seen. and sadly I be he has an ego too match! her admiration turned to pique as he kept himself from being seen ever so skillfuilly.

Then Orome was moving past her in that silent pwoerful stride that ever reminded Nari of the great ghost cats of the high cold mountains around Song Hold. She bit back as smile as Orome accosted the gray clad youth that had been following them.

An odd series of events to occur so early in the morning did just that as Sebastian sat alone at his table finishing his mug of ale and loaf of warm rye. There was no denying the feeling he had deep within his soul. It was a very familiar feeling. It was the presence of evil nearby. Somehow, perhaps blessed by the Almighty, the knight had a keen sense of when evil was nearby, even if he could not discern its exact source or location. Now was just one of those times...

One thing he had learned over his years of Knighthood was to always keep your eyes open and that nobody was beyond suspicion. Everyone was capable evil. Even the finest of Saints could be tempted towards sin by the Devil. It was then, as he finished his breakfast by the dormant fireplace that he saw two women of some beauty descend the stairs and exact the establishment. Now women certainly weren't beyond the vale of suspicion, but in his experience they were less likely than their male counterparts. However, when a cloaked figure quickly paid his bill at the bar and followed the women out, Sebastian's senses tingled and he felt the need to investigate; it was his job after all. And it was his call to protect the innocent and defend the weak.

He slowly stood, shrouded by his dark cloak that his armor, status, and appearance, before making his way through chairs towards the door through which the women and cloaked figure had just exited. However, no sooner had he reached the door then he heard the voice of a smooth talking gentlemen who was obviously too comfortable with the ladies. These ladies may need more help than I thought, the knight decided as he pushed the door open and saw the roguish looking man leap onto the rooftops... never a good sign. But where have the ladies gone...?

Deciding that searching for them on horse would be best, Sebastian turned down the side of the building and strode for the stables.... where he nearly ran into the two ladies, one of them who was confronting the cloaked figure. Making sure not to make any eye contact with the three people, Sebastian walked up to his mount and took his time readying him...


[ooc: Ugg... I feel like this is a poor post. Kind of tired.]

"Thank you for the invitation, as I was unsure as to how best to request the privilage of joining you." He replied in a soft, gentle voice, "Thought I must say I am unsure as to the nature of the Sisterhood you mentioned. From your words, eyes and movements I can tell that you are an artist of the warrior ways. I wish to know what style or styles your practice."

He paused as if to think about how best to continue, before adding, "If it is a style I am unfamiliar with, I wish to study it from you or should you prefere not to teach, to challenge you so I may learn that way thought I would prefere to avoid that route as it may lead to injury or destruction."

Powell's presence over the ocean had obviously sent up an alarm or too. Or it may have been the fact that there were always creatures ready to attack travelers seeking the cave of a dragon. Either way...

Fighting them all would leave him weakened. He could manage it, but he would need rest. So he decided for a more subtle approach. He shape-shifted, taking their form, their scent, and exuding their magical aura. It was enough to fool even the most intelligent of them. Of course, that didn't say a ton, but it was still something.

Approaching Ytherram's lair, he took his preferred skin again, and flashed his identity as he approached. Ytherram would be expecting him. Floating down the shaft, he came out in what was the dragon's reception room, and as he landed, he heard a voice call out from the library, deep and rumbling. "You look well, my friend. Please, come to the library. I'm in the middle of an important translation and I could use some company."

Powell walked over to the immense library, filled with books and bookshelves, but all neatly organized and clean, without a hint of dust. "Ytherram, my ancient friend, how have you kept yourself these past years?"

"I have kept and gone well. And yourself?"

"Mortality weighs upon me. Being an approximate of what humans call a demi-god would be bad enough, but I am lower than even that. But enough of my troubles. I have come to see if there is anything I can glean from you about my father. Things that only a Dragon and Lore-master would know. Like how to reverse his actions."

The ancient lizard laughed. "There is nothing that can be done but what your father has already told you, my young friend. However, if you care to bother yourself, I have had recent reports of events that may perk your interest." The dragon looked into his scrying glass. Right now, he was using it to translate a text into Draconic, using a spell to wright out on the parchment that required complete dark to work properly. Hence the use of the glass. But it could be used for other things.

"What could you tell me?"

"That a warrior has been recently traversing the western lands seeking opponents to fight, all of whom have fallen before him. He has honor, and a sense of morality. I sense greatness in him. He hails from the Plains, and is a practitioner of the Way of the Sparrowhawk. Know you of it?"

"Not enough. Have anythi...of course you do. Can I read anything here about it?"

"Third aisle, fourth bookshelft, right side, fifth section, second shelf."

Powell walked down, turned in, and walked straight past the shelf. As he did, the book floated out and followed him to a desk with a decent lamp above it. As Powell sat, the book came down in front of him, and opened to the first chapter. He began to read, taking in entire pages at a glance, the pages barely resting before another was flipped on top of it. He got through over one hundred sheets this way, none of it useful to him as far as learning it, but much of it good for him to recognize and evaluate. Of course, this was subject to his eye as well, since nothing was for certain.

"Thank you. What is so important about him?"

"Only that he may become a truly magnificent warrior in the near future. I thought that you should at least know enough to recognize him when you do see him. Anything else that you need?" the dragon asked.

Powell thought, then replied, "An image of Orlando. I want to see if there's anything going on there before I go there."

The dragon nodded, and the scrying glass shifted. There stood Orlando, preperations being made for some festival. That was good. For now. Things often changed with little or no provocation. "Thanks again," said Powell. And then he was gone.

He materialized just outside of Orlando, and as he came in he was stopped at the gates. After passing himself off as a side-show magician, he managed to get in. Asking a townsman busy setting up some banners, he got directions to an area where he could find inss at modest prices. So done, he headed in that direction, hoping that there was still some room available at one of the nicer establishments. Swarmed, with all the people here for the wedding. Such was the life of this city. And the life of so many cities in the world.

so I may learn that way thought I would prefere to avoid that route as it may lead to injury or destruction."

I threw back my head and laughed. I'd founhd the one person that hadn't heard of the far reaching Sisterhood of Staff and Sword. The Order prided itseld on how far flung it's powers were.

"The Sisterhood of Staff and Sword, known the world over for its supposed benevolence anhd skills. The name says most of it. Healing and Killing, the supposed balance of life and death. No, I practise no one certain style, to be trapped within one way is to hobble one'self."

She looked him up and down, assessing him carefully and from much experience.

"However today is a day of rest for me, I intend to shop and relax. My companion and I have rooms at the Silver Goblet. See me tomorrow if you are still interested." She was courteous, but not really interested in taking on a student, at least not this day.

Though the good knight was talking to the caretaker of the Silver Goblet's stables about the strange way in which his horse had acted last night, he was not really listening. Apparently Charlie had been neighing and attempting to break free of his tether all night as if a demon had possessed him and in the end getting no rest and appearing just as weak and wary as before. However, it didn't really concern him as he was busy eaves dropping on the conversation between the woman and the cloaked figure.

And then he gasped. The Sisterhood of the Staff and Sword. Everyone had heard of it. Legends and stories of its members were widespread for their skill with both a sword and healing. Certainly they could not be the evil presence I felt... he debated within his mind while pretending to pay attention to the lowly equestrian caretaker. Once in a while he would even throw in a question like "Will I be able to ride him long?" to maintain the veneer of an actual conversation.

He blinked at her laughter as he wasn't sure where it was coming from, thought it seemed to be related to the Sisterhood she'd mentioned. "Then may I enquire as to which styles and forms you do practice?" He asked as he turned his head a bare fraction to take in the armoured man speaking with the stable manner.

"Then would you mind if I were to accompany you as I may still learn about the styles and forms that you utilize from your actions and movements." He added as it was a part of his skills to be able to learn, identify and analyze styles simply from watching a person. "There is also an armoured man who appears to be listening to us speak, perhaps he may join rather than strain his ears to catch our words."

"I believe I observed him at the Silver Goblet, and his mount is upset over Black Fangs presence. Many horses can not tolerate being in the presence of a carnivore."

I turned and studied the man more closely. He was no one I knew, but I liked the way he was concerned for his mount. And the stable master should have apprised him of Black Fangs presence. That I disliked. Nodding to myself I stode over to the man.

"He's not happy to be so close to a Helcorn." I said firmly as I gave the stable hand a dark look "And witless here should have advised you of his presence, and given your horse some salap weed." I mentioned a commonly available equine tranquilizer. It wouldn't have hurt the horse, and most every stable with accomodations for Helcorns kept some in stock. Most didn't even charge for adding it to the hay.

Worfan walked out of his room and headed downstairs towards the door. The Lich had one goal at this point. He had rested long enough to gain his strength and power back to normal. He had to get to the local graveyard and raise a few friends. The undead around here would have valuable knowledge to where the artifact was hidden. Wofan hobbled and walked out the door and started to move towards the graveyard. The disguised lich could smell it from his room. The place was full of the dead some long and buried some not so long. It lured Worfan like a moth towards the flame.

The people on the street would see an old man walking towards the local graveyard not something unexpected. They probably reasoned that Worfan was an old man heading towards the grave of his wife or some close friend that had passed away years ago. If they only knew the truth they would have tried to stop him. The Lich had a plan to get a few friends and begin his hunt for the headband of intellect. Worfan needed the legendary artifact to increase his all ready considerable power. The extra power would greatly help in the coming war against the believers of the Divine Protector….

The Graveyard was now in sight and Worfan started muttering dark oath as his body started to dematerialize in a burst of magical energy. He soon reappears in the middle of the graveyard laughing his head off…..


OOC: Sorry for the terrible post. I was at work all day...

Well, there was this guy who saw me when he stepped out of the Inn, just in time to see me play ninja. No matter, he didn't seem like he's much of a threat, stupid and slow as he looked. So I paid him no heed, and went on my way, jumping from roof to roof as stealthily as I could, even in the bright daylight of morning. Not that anyone else seemed to notice anyway; I could be pretty good at not being seen whenever I feel like it. It's just how I'm trained, after all.

I tail the strange little fellow in his grey robes, and I see that indeed, he was tailing the two fine young ladies whom I thought had disappeared from my life forever. Bless his heart, he led me to them in his pursuit without knowing it, although I'm pretty sure he wasn't up to anything good judging from the vibes he was giving off. Perhaps at best merely a cutpurse thinking these two ladies to be soft targets, although I could have told him that he was way off base with such an assumption. Certainly that boy was nowhere near the ability of those ladies; he didn't even begin to notice something amiss, although the foxy one of the two beauties almost caught me several times, for certainly she was suspecting something. I don't think she actually saw me, though I can never be sure. And besides, even if neither of those ladies saw me, I wouldn't put it past them to suspect that someone like me was hanging around.

I continue my surveillance of the ladies and that sneaky youth, and I'm starting to wonder if I should take that little beggar down before he troubles the ladies. Not that I think the ladies wouldn't be able to handle him; it's just that I'd rather spare them the trouble, and hey, the less eyes watching, the easier it is to give the cutpurse a taste of his own medicine, no? I always rather enjoyed relieving the purses of cutpurses, ironic as that sounds, even though they usually don't have that much to begin with. Maybe it's just my queer sense of justice, but that's how I am. The way I am ducking and dodging to avoid being seen, I myself could barely catch glimpses of the seductive eyes of that foxy temptress, and my oh my, I don't even understand myself, how I can't seem to get enough of those eyes. Whatever is the matter with me, hey? I'm the Black Panther, the best swordsman to come out of the Plains since the Saint of Swords! I've loved women and left them, and I've been doing so for six years now, it's become a lifestyle for me! Yet, not one of those wenches have drawn me as irresistably as that one has, not at first glance. Could it be, Tian? Could it be that I'm falling in love?! My, wouldn't that be a delicious irony, eh?

Ah, I'm in a real good mood today. In fact, it would have been a perfect mood, had not I noticed that stupid oaf who'd seen me leaping up to the rooftops following as well. What a nosey parker he is; but then again, who am I to talk. I just hope he doesn't show up and ruin everything, 'cause I'm having too much fun as it is. Ah, I see the ladies entering the stables not too far from the inn; are they riding out of town? If so, I'd never see them again; ah well, I am ever at the mercy of Lady Fate. Always has been, ever since I made that decision to leave the plains years ago. Well, if they're riding out, then I'll have to get me a horse as well, by hook or by crook, wouldn't I? It's about high time I left this decadent city too; I've had quite enough fun here as it is, and although I wouldn't mind having more, I know myself too well to know my staying here too much longer is not a good idea, lest I grow soft and lose my edge. Become one of those city lubbers I so detested, even as I swindled them out of their riches. So, even if I can't catch up with those two ladies, at least I'll have a horse to lead me out of this place. Back home to the plains, the lands of my birth.

I slip in unseen, into the stables where the girls have gone; it didn't seem like they were leaving the city yet. Apparently they were just there to check up on their steed, and that other woman, the one whom I can feel a raw aura of power enamating from, she had accosted the youth in his grey robes at the entrance, and they seemed engaged in conversation. Well, even the senses of a Tribesman of the Plain could go awry at times; I guess I wasn't doing the youth justice by labelling him a cutpurse even before I knew his true intentions. The vibes he gave off were still of the unsettling variety though; hmmm, that boy's an interesting one. Wonder what happened to him, but that's none of my concern. But it's the other beauty I'm interested in, and she seems to be feeding a grey palfrey some sugar. That girl! She seems touched by destiny to me, and I can't keep my eyes off her, no matter how I try. Of course, I don't think either of the three saw me, since I'm well hidden high up in the beams and all, and I'm pretty sure the last thing anyone would think of is to look up. From this vantage point, I'm more than content to break out the jug of sake which I keep with me at all times, and swig from it while I admire the foxy seductiveness of the one who has claimed my attention for her own, even if she doesn't know it.

I would be content to just watch the foxy seductress from here forever. But of course, that great big oafish one from the Inn just had to join the party, and ruin it altogether for me. I had clean forgotten about him, but it seemed he had managed to tail Grey Robe and the ladies here as well, and I can't help but roll my eyes. I mean, seriously. Acting like he's talking to the stablemaster while he's actually eavesdropping; that was simply child's play, and while he may think he's good, to me he can't act to save his life. He was so bad, it seemed that even the snotty little teenager picked up on it as well, not to mention the powerful lady of the pair of beauties.

Talking about the pair of beauties, where did the other one go? The other one whom I couldn't take my eyes off earlier, at least until the oaf came in and sidetracked me?

The very next moment, I let myself drop right off the beam I was sitting on; it was either that or lose my head to the naginata blade that was swinging right at my neck. I felt the presence of my would-be backstabber long ago, of course, he or she had no chance of scoring one over me, for if there was one thing I excelled at, it was evasion. That was the Way of the Sparrowhawk, the Arts of the Plains that was taught to no outsider, to evade anything and everything an enemy could possibly ever throw at you. In any case, my cover has been blown anyway, so I wasn't particularly bothered by the fact that everyone who had joined the party in the stables had found an uninvited guest in their midst. What I could care about now though, was finding who my attacker was; with a somersault in the air, I landed with both feet right on the shoulders of the oaf, and to his credit, he managed to keep himself from falling flat on his face altogether as I kicked on his shoulders, using him as a springboard to leap all the way back up to the supporting beams of the stables. It was only then I realized it wasn't your typical oaf I was talking about; there aren't many out there who wore armour as thick as the one he was wearing, and while the cloak he wore hid it well enough, I'd know a hard surface beneath my feet any day, no matter how much cloth covered it.

I regain my perch upon another of the many beams up here, and face my aggressor. And the moment I saw her, I felt my heart leap right out of my throat, though rogue that I am, I'm sure I concealed it pretty well. It was the foxy one with the seductive eyes; she had sneaked up on me while I wasn't looking, and she was the one who tried to lop off my head. Despite all that though, I couldn't find it within myself to get mad at her; she was actually grinning with mischief in her lips and her eyes, the little minx. Obviously she wasn't really intending to kill me; ah, so you want to play with me, don't you, kitten? Very well, here comes Papa!!!

I leap off the beam, flying straight at her. Even at the speed I was flying towards her, I could see how gracefully she wielded that naginata as she swung it to parry my first strike, how feminine she looked even as she swept it around as I flew past her, bounced off another beam, and came back straight at her. The way she fought, it was almost like watching a dance rather than a swordplay, though I'm all too certain that the minx is a lethal fighter in her own right. However, I too am a purveyor of my own brand of artistry, and evidently she was no Sparrowhawk like I was; her footwork was evidently confined to the treacherous narrow width of the beam while I kept her on the defensive, coming in at her from all directions as I leapt off beam after beam, striking at her from every direction. I've got to hand it to her; she's in a bad situation and she knows it, but up til now she's still kept her cool enough to at least defend against everything I've thrown at her. Not that I'm exactly trying at the moment; if I were she'd be a goner by now, but I have to hand her some respect. She's not just a looker; she's a real fighter too, and that attracts me all the more towards her. Man, what would I give to get close to her!

I land on a beam, and grin at her, thinking to give her a breather before we continue our impromptu spar. I salute her too; it was the least I could give her, for she really is that good. And the little minx responded with a sexy smile of her own, as she brought her naginata to bear with a feminine grace I had always thought the sole purview of the female Sparrowhawk warrior; evidently feminine beauty in combat was not just to be found on the plains as well. Well, I'd be. I leap from the beam and fly at here again; to my utter surprise, she leapt off the beam as well, right at me. For a moment there I thought that she may have been a hidden Sparrowhawk all this time, but the surprise was an even greater one; somehow, her feet seemed to touch an invisible barrier that spanned the void between us, making her look as if she was standing on thin air.

What the fuck. I'm a Sparrowhawk, the best of my generation, but even I can't do that. Heck, I don't think the legends of the Saint of Swords ever said anything about him walking on thin air either, so this must be something I've never seen before. In any case, we clash blades again; her fancy footwork on what seemed like nothing was a tad disconcerting, and my astonishment combined with the space she had created for herself made her a better fighter suddenly; she almost got me several times during the next few rounds, but thankfully I'm better than that. Well, I had thought that the narrow footing of the beams were an advantage to my style, but now that she's all but eliminated that advantage, I guess I'll have to step it up a notch.

I come at her again, but this time, as she parried my next blow, I didn't fly past her, instead opting to drop both feet on the invisible barrier she had created, so I could attack her from closer range.

Only to drop right down through the thin air that it was.

"Well, damned", I mutter, as I somersault in the air and somehow contrived to use the armoured oaf as my springboard yet again; this time, I think I got his face with my boot. Ah well, apologies may be in order, except not now; I return to where the beams were, doing a few more slash-and-parries with the little minx, before regaining my perch on one of the beams.

One more time. I fly at her again, and it seems that she also knows this is the make or break. In a matter of moments, we exchange a flurry of fearsomely quick blows; the impact of me flying straight at her knocks her back from her invisible floor, back to the perch of one of the horizontal support beams while I bounce back to my perch on another. And when I had landed lightly on my feet like all good Sparrowhawk swordfighters do, I was greeted with quite the incredible sight.

In the heat of the spar I wasn't exactly paying attention to what she was wearing, yet it was the only thing I could see at the moment. For all this time, she had been fighting me clad in a kind of 'casual' kimono, that is all the rage in Nihongo fashion the last time I've been in that land. And the one weakness in such a design, was that it was all held together by an obi, a cloth sash they wear to keep the whole outfit together. And apparently, I've managed to nick the minx right where her weakness was.

She had turned herself to one side so as to best preserve what modesty she had left, and yet what I could see was thrilling enough a sight. A slit of ivory flesh so pure and fair, travelling from her neckline, down through her chest in the area just between her soft ones, and the undone kimono barely managed to cover the critical detail down at her hips; but in the process, revealing miles upon miles of ivory fair leg. Oh, mother of the earth, was it ever the sight! It was something electric, coursing through my very veins, robbing my lungs of every scrap of breath I had left. And the little minx, caught off guard as she was, was blushing furiously, attempting with her free hand to pull her outfit back together, a vain attempt without the support of the obi that I had just sent floating in two pieces to the ground where the rest of them were, watching the show like the appreciative audience that they were. Well, maybe not all of them; I don't think that oaf would appreciate the boot in the face that I gave him, but I don't care. I've got a much better sight right in front of me.

Ah well, she doesn't look very happy right now. Definitely this spar was over; I rest my treasure blade against my shoulder, only to realize that I had not escaped unscathed; the minx had somehow ripped a tear in my right sleeve, exposing the toned bicep I kept hidden under. Of course, that wasn't nearly as bad an injury as the one I had dealt upon her, and yet me being me, I'm the kind who adds insult to injury. I pick up the jug of sake I had left on the beam, and raise it in the air towards her in a toast.

"My compliments."

Well, technically it's a compliment, but whether she would take it as such or as rubbing salt into her wounds, I have no idea. Let's see what gives, eh? Whatever it was, she has piqued my interest indefinitely; I can foresee my being drawn to her for a long, long time.

Sometimes one's first impression of a man, even if only by sight and sense, is dead on. That was the case with this roguish, red-haired chap who had the great sense of mind to use Sebastian's face as a step. Up in the rafters of the stable, though previous unseen by the knight, two demon warriors did battle. Being concerned for the safety of the caretaker, even if he had failed in his job, Sebastian asked him to go inside of the inn much to his chagrin. After finally complying to Sebastian's request, the knight added a quick comment about any and all damages to his stables being paid for... one way or another.

It was then that he turned back to the battle and was greeted by a boot to the face. This could get ugly... Sebastian thought as he moved his helm over his head with none the wiser to his actions. And I thought that the city might be calmed by the wedding...

Just waiting for the right moment, the knight stood poised to jump in and break up the fight. This tussle could stir up a commotion and do serious damage to the building should the beams be cut by a powerful enough blow. And then it happened... the battle ended. The rogue stood on the ground, clearly pleased with himself as he stared at his opponent. Sebastian's eyes moved from one to the other in the rafters, but immediately his head shot back. What has this man done!

"You sir, are a disgrace to the blade!" Sebastian roared as he stormed into the stables in-between the two combatants. "Have you no honor or sense!" The red haired man was apparently not paying any attention except to the naked beauty that stood in the rafters above. Most likely, despite his speed, Sebastian could have knocked him over with one fell swoop of the blade as he was distracted... but that would be against his code.

Then, Sebastian turned to where the beauty stood, attempting to maintain what dignity she still had, and averted his eyes with a massive gauntleted hand. "M'lady, I offer you my cloak," he said as he pulled off his mysterious brown cloak and held it up to her with his other hand. Now that Sebastian had removed his outer cloak, his identity was slowly being uncovered. A white, elegant cloak, trimmed in gold hung over his frame. Pinned to the front of his shoulder guards, the white cloak hung over his head and draped to the floor. In the front it was open, revealing his armor, but for now he was facing away from the others and towards the bare lady.

You know, it would have been just fine and dandy if this was just between me and the blushing little minx on the other beam. Certainly it would have been a lot less complicated, after all, whatever would happen from such a situation would very likely be confined to just between the two of us, and if I may say so myself, most probably in a favourable way as well. Thus it was too bad that the whole thing was a public affair from the beginning, and when something is a public affair, you can't exactly choose your audience. Which means, more often than not, that there would be someone whose tender sensibilities would be offended, and whoever he or she was could always be counted on to make quite the ruckus about it.

And so it was in this case, although I'm wondering if my putting my boot in this prude of an oaf's face had anything to do with the bad temper he was envincing. In any case, his stomping around on the ground under my feet, and the volume of his self-righteous proclaiming was loud enough to make me wince, but what the hell.

"You sir, are a disgrace to the blade! Have you no honor or sense!"

Right now, I have trouble deciding whether to roll my eyes at this oaf's self-righteous attitude, or to crack up at the utter absurdity of his actions. Disgrace to the blade, indeed; I have honoured my blade in my own way, thank you very much, and I'm a proud warrior of the Plains. I certainly have no need of this oaf's so-called honor or sense, even if he really is a knight like I see now, from the way his armour is exposed from under his cloak. Knight or no, it seems like he's stupid enough to think that the half-dressed minx would jump down from her perch just to accept his cloak; and in the meantime, have her undone kimono blow up from the draft and expose just about everything else that isn't open to public viewing already.

I decide to settle for the latter, and let the idiot knight have an earful of my derisive chuckling. How funny can one guy be? It's amuses me that anyone could be this dumb, even if he were a knight; and as far as I can tell, knights are amongst the dumbest animals I have met in my travels. Well, this one looks to be dumber than most, and that's saying something.

"Hey, Mr. More-Honorable-and-Sensible-Than-Thou, ever think about how the lady's going to get down from there in the first place in the state she's in?", I quipped from above, enjoying the joke immensely. "Unless you can jump up here, which I highly doubt from all the meat you have apparently been eating, save your cloak, dolt!"

With that, I leap into the air, towards the poor little minx with the undone kimono which barely preserved what little modesty she had left. In mid-jump, I did a somersault and had my outer robe undone within a moment; it floated away from me, and floated down to settle down on her body, reinforcing the little protection she could glean from her undone clothes. It was kind of a pity, having to cover up such a great show, but even I know better than to drag out the embarassment of a girl in public view. Of course, if all this happened without anyone else around to see, it would have been a different matter altogether......

I land on the same beam she was perching on, topless and wearing only my tribal cap, long pants, and light shoes. With my upper robe covering the little minx, my torso is in full view; and might I say that I'm quite proud of it. If anything, it's gotten me more than my fair share of 'admiration' from the fairer sex, and that's proof enough right there that it's a good body I have. I still have that jug of sake in my hand though, and I hold it out to her in one hand.

"A toast in your honor! I've not had this much fun in a while!"

Yup, it's true. It's not often I meet a lady who's this sexy, and yet this strong at the same time. It makes for great fun, and add to that a certain air of mystery about this foxy little lady that her companion somewhat lacks, and it's quite enough to get me more than just merely interested. Yes, I think I would definitely enjoy the company of this young lady, she of the eyes that seduce, and of the skill in the naginata.

Powell spent the remainder of the day wandering around the city, but noticed one thing in particualr that bared investigation. A dark force with a room facing the alley in one pub or another. The Silver Pitcher or whatever. As it was, Powell was able to sense the fact that it was evil, and more notably, a Lich. Liches tended to fo to certain places when in cities. Temples were, for obvious reasons, not one of them. So Powell headed for one, keeping an eye on the inn to see when the Lich would emerge. From within the temple, his own status would only appear as lots of piety from the priests in preparation for the wedding.

That night, Powell witnessed the Lich leave the inn, and head for the gate near the cemetary. He left the temple, and headed there as well. As he approached, he felt a magical pulse go off, and then heard maniacla laughter coming from the cemetary. Powell also teleported, coming out just out of sight range for the Lich, but close enough te recognize him from the days when he had still been a god. Worfan.

"Becoming Arch-Magius hasn't made you any saner, Worfan. And a lich by any other name is just as annoying. An you know what they say: If you have a lich, scratch it," said the fallen god, coming out of the shadows to confront the undead monstrosity. "What are you doing here? Planning to disturb the peaceful rest of a few good men?"

Hatusri looked at the lady's mount, "I have never heard of a carnivore that appears as a unicorn." He commented as his modes of travel where that of the foot rather mounted on the myrid beasts that roamed the world.

Following the gaze he spotted the partially denuded and felt his control start to slip. Had the man responsible for the damaged cloth not taken responsibility, he would likely have gone 'black', though he was unaware of the fact.

"It is oft not considered polite to do what you have done to her and it might be best to apologise." He called up as it was not something that was condoned in the vast majority martial arts, the humiliation in such a manner of an opponent. His style was interesting, he could place it but not the name. "What is your style's name?" He asked as he began mentally scrolling through the styles that were similar looking for the name.

I had seen Nari slipping away out of the corner of her my as I spoke to the young man who had inquired about my style. I had lost trrack of her completely though when I had moved over to speak with the warriorconcerned about his mount. I liked that he was concerned for his horses state, too fue take the time to worry about a 'dumb beast". I wasn't too concerned for I know well that the Kitsune can take care of herself in most things.

As I was repremanding the stable hand for his laxness in caring for the warrior's horse I caught sight of Nari creeping up upon the red haired Tribesman we had passed at the Inn, the one how had saluted us by raising his cap.Ah, so some one can catch Naris attention. I was beginning to wonder! I thought as I fought to keep a betraying grin off of my lips. It isn't an inn, it isn't even atached to an inn, and it's not as if we're low on funds. Came my wry thought as I backed away down the isle to find a comfortable observation post.

The sparing match, for I could tell by Nari's actions, that it was not intended to be naught more than that, was a visual feast. Her opponent was highly skilled in the Tribe's most arduous Way. Nari was having to resort to her arcane abilities to keep up with him, something I will have to remember to twit her about later.

"So is he intent on impressing us, or more specifically Nari, or has he other designs?" I asked myself aloud as I watched, wincing as the arrogant Tribesman used the warrior as a step stool and but heartbeats later a breakfall.

"Of course we shall cover any damages, or at least those who cause them will." I called out when the warrior persuaded the stable hand to remove himself from the danger zone.

Then with a few more flourished passses of skille and cunning, the match was over, Nari having lost by virute of distracting ever many about. Or should I say won, for if she had had a mind to I am certain she could have disabled all three men. And people wonder why I like Illu'varr fashion so much.

"Nari you are upsetting the men. " I called with a laugh as the Knight, for that is what the removal of his disguising cloak revealed him to be, hid his eyes rather than just ignore the sight of a partially bare female body. The scarlet haired Tribes man handled it in the fashion I was coming to realize as being characteristic for him. It was but one of thes weaknesses I catalogued to him as I had instinctively cataloged the knight.

However before any more commentary could be made, the over powering stench of brimstone washed over me at the same time Black Fang roared with rage and burst out his stall with no hesitation. The miasma of vileness that preceeded an attack by a demon swarm was a heavy pressure about the stables.

"Get out! This is not your fight" My voice was that of one used to command and instant obedience, as I directed the order to the men. Somebody wanted me dead strongly enough to send demons into a city. That meant that they didn't care how much collateral damage was caused, and that made my blood run cold.

Then I was moving into the most open space in the wide corridor that was the main hall of the stables

Illu'rarr Bannermen warrior mages (http://www.atddm.com/illu5.jpg) three of the master assassihs of the Empire (1/3/7)
Winged demons with flaming shard swords (http://www.atddm.com/garg4.jpg) two of these appeared in mid air, their swords already ignited.(8 /6)
bone demons with sword (http://www.atddm.com/demon2a.jpg) two of theses feinds errupted from the ground, they were the fastest and most deadly besides the Bannermen. ( 2/5 )
demonic scorpions- larger than a horse and thickly armored (http://www.scorpions.co.za/images/ocarinatus.jpg) three of the hard armored, venemous fast and aggressive, they were excellent climbers. (4/9/10)

The demons erupted out of the ground, or from supposedly thin air. (http://www.atddm.com/demonsarrive.gif)

My hands flashed open and then filled with sword hilts, as I summoned my favorite weapons for such combat. (http://www.atddm.com/mystlong.jpg) The unbreakable crystal of the blade flared to life, and the weapons were lighter than feathers in my hands.

Powell spent the remainder of the day wandering around the city, but noticed one thing in particualr that bared investigation. A dark force with a room facing the alley in one pub or another. The Silver Pitcher or whatever. As it was, Powell was able to sense the fact that it was evil, and more notably, a Lich. Liches tended to fo to certain places when in cities. Temples were, for obvious reasons, not one of them. So Powell headed for one, keeping an eye on the inn to see when the Lich would emerge. From within the temple, his own status would only appear as lots of piety from the priests in preparation for the wedding.

That night, Powell witnessed the Lich leave the inn, and head for the gate near the cemetary. He left the temple, and headed there as well. As he approached, he felt a magical pulse go off, and then heard maniacla laughter coming from the cemetary. Powell also teleported, coming out just out of sight range for the Lich, but close enough te recognize him from the days when he had still been a god. Worfan.

"Becoming Arch-Magius hasn't made you any saner, Worfan. And a lich by any other name is just as annoying. An you know what they say: If you have a lich, scratch it," said the fallen god, coming out of the shadows to confront the undead monstrosity. "What are you doing here? Planning to disturb the peaceful rest of a few good men?"





Worfan laughed again and said, "I see that there are still mortal fools trying to kill me. I am no goblin or Orc that can die by a mere muttering of some words and swinging of a sword. I am Worfan Arch Magius of Necromancy, I shall send your soul screaming to the Abyss!"

Worfan then started chanting in an ancient language one not heard in several thousand years. The same language muttered by the Shamans of the Hansi tribe and the followers of Slokhan the Mad. The wind started blowing in and around the graveyard as huge amount dark power started to focus around the chanting Lich. Worfan smiles as he reaches the height of his increasing power. The Lich raises his free hand and a green mist pours out of his hand from his skeletal palm. The mist starts to flow around the ground and near the gravestones.

It was obvious what Worfan had done. The green mist was part of an ancient spell and one of great power used by only the most feared Necromancers and Liches. To those of the magical community this spell was known as the Plague of Undead. It was a forbidden spell used to make entire armies of undead zombies and skeletons from local graveyards and from bloody battlefields. Worfan was no stranger to using this tactic in a fight. It had been used multiple times to build his armies during the war against the Elves several thousand years back.

The ground was now starting to be disturbed as the dead started to rise from the now unhallowed ground. The cemetary was now going to suffer a terrible state of infestation of the dead as they literally pushed up from the dirt and rose as skeletons and zombies. Their moaning and groaning would attract attention if anyone had been foolish enough to be in earshot after the green mist started to spread the entire area of the graveyard…

Worfan looked towards Powell and said, "I have made my move, I await your response mortal!"

"What is your style's name?"

Well, isn't the kid a nosey little parker. What is my style, indeed. Ignoring the words he had said before, which was basically just a less passionate version of the outburst of the knight with the stiff upper lip, I lean over to look down at him, and flash him a grin.

"What do I get for telling you the answer to your question?", I shot right back at him, wagging my finger at the nosey parker. I'm not the kind to give things away for free, even if it was an answer which he can just as easily find out for himself later on. Besides, for some reason, I just don't like that kid. He's still giving off those rather unsavoury vibes to him, like he's not the kind of person I'll want to know in a hurry. And besides, he's still peeking at the minx, while having the cheek to berate me for my actions. Why is it that I'm the one who always have to do the hard work, while other men enjoy the fruits of my labours? It just doesn't make sense. Oh well, no one ever said that life was fair.

It was just then, that I felt it too.

"Get out! This is not your fight!"

It was an unwholesome feeling that crept up the back of my neck, and lo and behold, ten of the ugliest looking demons I have ever seen in my life had somehow appeared magically in the stables. On another note, I wasn't quite prepared for the commanding tone of the one of the two beauties I had not yet gotten around to disrobing; especially since the first I had heard of them were their schoolgirl-like giggling, I certainly wouldn't have taken that lady to be a commander of any sort at first glance. Now though, I'm certainly not harboring any illusions now. That woman is used to command, and yet her voice just went over my head altogether. I'm the kind of man who doesn't set much store by authority, and there was no way I am going to allow myself to be ordered around. Not because she's a woman, no not that at all, I would have just as equally ignored the command if it came from that oaf of a knight. Still, getting out of there sounded like a fairly good idea, considering these guys look meaner than most things I've come across the past six years. And that's saying a lot.

But amongst these demons were two that had wings and wielded flaming swords, and one of them was already headed my way, snarling as he flew at me with those great wings, sword raised to strike at me. But it took me only a moment to realize that it was not me that ugly hunk was going after; for some reason, it was the little minx the ugly beast wanted to murder, and I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She's still putting herself together, and it didn't seem like she can defend herself from the incoming attack without having to lose her clothes altogether.

Sigh. Women are the same no matter where you go; they always take their time getting dressed.

The flying demons was nearing the both of us now, its flaming sword raised and poised to strike. Reflexively, I threw the jug of sake at it; now you may be asking why I would waste perfectly good alcohol, by throwing it at a demon which probably wouldn't even begin to feel the impact? Trust me, I did it for a perfectly good reason. And just as I expected, the winged abomination swung its fiery blade at the jug, shattering it into so many earthen pieces, and releasing the precious sake within in a rush of liquid that splashed all over its body, and especially on its ugly mug.

Now, sake is alcohol, isn't it? And alcohol is a flammable fuel, no? So, when the gargoyle cleaved through my jug, the flames on its blade set the whole lot of the released sake on fire at the first touch. And now, since the flaming sake had splashed itself all over its body, the flying demons had just pretty much set itself on fire, shrieking in an ear-piercing scream as it reeled back from my unexpected attack. See how beautiful the victory of my brain over my opponent's brawn can be?

"Blazin' hot", I mutter, as I prepare to jump.

The gargoyle on fire was now reeling blindly from the pain of the fire, shrieking fit to raise the dead; it was giving me quite the headache. So, I decided I would end the noise as quickly as possible; before it could recover, I was already leaping at it, the Ultimatum shining keen and deadly in my grasp. Even in the midst of its agony, the ugly mug saw me coming; with a startling speed, one of its clawed feet came sweeping up, aimed at the soft part of my belly, no doubt to leave my intestines spilling 20 feet all the way to the ground. Well, it was fast, but I'm faster, and I had its entire clawed foor sheared off cleanly faster than you could say 'ouch'.

I land both my feet on the demon's torso, feeling the heat of the fire blazing on its skin through my soft felt shoes. Roaring in rage, it tried to swipe at me with its free hand, and that swipe was fast and fearsome. Yet, it was a simple matter for me to dodge it altogether, skipping to one shoulder and then the other as the clawed hand of the demons slammed into its own chest. Now it was really pissed; it raised its sword to cut me off its shoulder, but I had already foreseen it. In a flash, I had hopped onto the demon's head, parrying the flaming blade with my own. Yet, even in the awkward position in which it was wielding its unholy blade, it still had enough strength to more than match me, and I grunted at the surprising power which it possessed. Doubtless, if I had met his blade with my own in a more conventional position where it could have used its full strength, my arms would have been broken by now.

Not that I was going to give it the chance; in a flash, my wakizashi was out in my left hand, and with its blade trapped by the blade of my Ultimatum, it had no chance to react. Before you could say 'knife', my secondary blade had sheared cleanly through the sword hand of the demon, sending its flaming blade spinning in freefall down to the ground. With a terrible shriek that only made my headache much worse than it was already, it tried once again to swipe at me with the one clawed hand that it had left; once again, it was a simple matter for me to dodge the swipe, fast as it was.

Time to end this. I hop 180 degrees to face the other side, towards the wings that kept this abomination airborne, Ultimatum and its companion wakizashi in both hands.

Zwing zwing!

With clinical precision to make the best surgeons in all the land proud, I gave the demon a makeover on both its shoulder blades; as its severed wings fell, I jumped from the demon as it began its last fall. Giving its last shriek of defiance, the now-wingless gargoyle went crashing to the ground, and I could swear I saw that, apart from whatever pieces of the walls it had ripped out in its fall, the wingless one had just fallen right on top of one of its comrades, a bony skeleton with a mean-looking sword. I couldn't be sure, since the impact of its fall threw up dust and loose hay, obscuring my sight of what had happened down below.

I land like a cat on the beam from which I had jumped off in order to begin my fight against the flying gargoyle, right besides the little minx I was fighting for in the first place. Both Ultimatum and wakizashi were stained with the blood of the demon I'm sure I had just slayed, yet I knew that it was merely 1 down, 9 more to go. And I may be good, but I can't do this alone by myself. I can only hope the guys at ground level can deal with these demons, wherever they came from.

"Well, I guess this is my fight now", I muttered as I wipe the wakizashi down, before placing it back in its sheathe. Ultimatum remained unsheathed; there was plenty more killin' for my treasure blade to do. I glance at the little minx I had partially disrobed not so long ago, when I had dueled her just for fun. Well, this wasn't just fun now; this was the serious business.

"When you're done with putting yourself together, mind giving me back my robe? The draft from my jumping around is a rather chilly piece of business when I'm have only my pants on", I said in a dry tone, smirking at the minx who still held onto my tribal robes for preservation of her modesty.

(OOC: Winged demon #6 & Bone demon #5 - Scratched? I can only hope - it's up to Shal.)

As Tain returns to his starting spot and begins to wipe down his blades he is unhppy to discover that while his Ultimatum is unharmed, the wakashi's blade is being pitted, eaten as he watches by the corrisive blood of the demon, and before him...as is where ever his clothes and skin have been sprayed with the demonic blood. The spots on his bare skin are numb at first then burn with agonizing pain as the acid eats at him.

and the obscureing cloud of dust and hay disappeares in a expanding shpere of fire that sounds a dull whump through the stables..being that it was a demon the fire of the burning sake didn't bother it, but it had been unexpected and annoying. To lose a foot, the stump which had healed over almost instantly has still left it a leg to stand on, and the loss of its wings had also hurt, but had sealed over as well. The sword was scooped up in it's remaining hand and a mere fall would not be it's undoing. It could still leap, albiet clumsily and the bone demon had avoided being landed on handily.

as the dust and hay was blown away it began looking about the one that had hurt it.

"When you're done with putting yourself together, mind giving me back my robe? The draft from my jumping around is a rather chilly piece of business when I'm have only my pants on",

Nari looked at him and shook her head, as with a thought she materialized a wine skin of saki and proceeded to douse him with it, starting to wash away the demon's blood. "Hold still you arrogant leap frog! Or do you want your skin eaten down to the bone. And yes you have a very nice chest, lovely muscles and such but excuse me right now staying alive is more important."

At first, it began as a numb, tingling sensation that was a little uncomfortable, to say the least. Then, out of nowhere, it became an unbearable agony as the blood of the demon I had made sushi out of started burning where it had splattered on my bare chest.

"Gffff......!", I bit my lips, preventing myself from yelling out in pain. Apparently I knew nowhere near enough about just what these abominations are like; had I known that their blood is this corrosive, I would have claimed my robe back from the little minx first at all costs, even if it meant leaving her stark naked for all to admire like a Venus come down to the mortal plane. And if that was not enough, I start cursing mentally as I look down upon the blade in my left hand; the wakizashi was being eaten slowly by the acidic blood of the demon, that was how potent it was. Even in agony as I was, I throw my side blade away in disgust; it can't be used anymore, and I would have to replace it as soon as I get out of this mess. Which, I think, wouldn't be for quite a while yet.

"Hold still you arrogant leap frog! Or do you want your skin eaten down to the bone. And yes you have a very nice chest, lovely muscles and such but excuse me right now staying alive is more important."

I could feel a cool, refreshing liquid cascade down over my torso, washing away the agony of the burning acid like it had never happened. I look up, and there the little minx was, helping me wash away the corrosive acid with whatever kind of water she had. It was a far more wholesome feeling, and I look up at her with a grin, my eyes thanking her silently for the assistance. I must say, she's cute when she's mad. The little hint of a pout merely makes her all the more desirable, if I may say so myself.

I look over the edge, and damned, it seemed that it wasn't quite the end for the flying one I had disabled just moments before. "What does it take to kill this guy?!", I muttered in wonder, glancing back at the little minx. For some reason, I felt like she would know better about them than I do. But whatever the case was, I don't feel like fighting it again, not for the moment anyway. Not while I'm STILL half-dressed; first, I'll want some protection against that damned corrosive blood.

"C'mon, we don't want to be seen", was all the explanation I gave the little minx before I take my liberties with her, wrapping my free arm around her oh so little waist against her protestations. In a bound, I carried her to a shadowed corner where we wouldn't be seen, and I'm pretty sure that at the speed I was going, the other demons wouldn't be hunting us for the moment as they would be occupied with the rest of them, wherever they were. Hidden in the dark corner, we could earn ourselves a breather for the moment, and prepare ourselves to go out and face what we need to face.

And I'm pretty certain we're going to need that breather; after all this time, the little minx still hadn't put herself together. Thus, even with my tribesmen's robe on her, her kimono was still undone at the front, exposing her full glory for me to observe. Or rather, not observe; for I had packed the both of us so tightly in the corner to avoid us being seen, that she was pressed up against me. Her bare torso, touching skin to skin against my own bare torso, and I could feel the soft parts of her. I turn to look at her, and her hot breath washes over me, raising the electric thrill in my veins even further.

Oh, this just isn't the right time.

"You be wanting to put yourself together yet?", I quip, not bothering to hide the fact that I was getting all hot and bothered at the wrong time. "Or are you thinking of going out there and distracting everyone? 'Cause you'd do a damned fine job of it."

'Cause you'd do a damned fine job of it."

Nari couldn't help the dimples that graced her cheeks. "You sir, are incorrigable! And your robes will scarce hinder the effects of their blood, they are demons and their blood destroys what it touches, save for that which is enchanted, or of silk. But saki neutralizes it." And with those words she handed him his robes- changed to purest silk- back to him, as best as she was able as he had her pressed tightly against him, seeking to protect her.

"And while I appreciate your admiration of me, you scarely know me and if you react like this to every pretty woman, you might not be that interesting to me! I am a very discerning, discriminating lady"'

She grinned at the suddenly disconcerted expression that flashed over his face, and managed to spin loose of his hold. New robes of her own appeared about her, styled much like his for ease of movement, and also of silk, hers in deepest black with a styized embriodered lightning bolt on the back.

"My name is Kaminari. " She added, then commented "You'll have to take his head, or I will, for both our weapons are kami blessed."

Then Nari was leaping from rafter to rafter, moving as fast as she could to reach the stall that one of the Assassins had materialized in. She knew that those three were the most dangerous of the bad lot.

The Bone demon that errupted out of the ground then had to leap aside rather than have a bleeding Fire Demon land upon it, though this cost him little in the way of effort, and put him directly before a heavily armored warrior. A warrior that to his senses screamed of too much purity to be allowed to continue living. With a low growl the Bone demon took two powerful steps and launched an attack on Sebesatain.
************************

Else where Black Fang used his mass to ram full into the Bannerman, but he knew as he whirled to observe the results, that he'd done little more than disrupt the spell the Illu'varr had been weaving. Cat quick though the Helcorn stgallion resumed tghe offensive, razor sharp fangs seeking to clamp down on the mans shoulder.

*******************************
The scorpions that had burrowed their way out of the ground to find themselves in the far corridor of the stables scuttled about and began bulling their way through the stables, destroying every thing in their path. The horses in the stalls they were demolishing added to the tumult of battle, their whinneys of fear seemingly enraging the scorpions who but scarely paused as they tore the hapless horses to shreds.

The other winged demon who had materialized near them hovered momentarily, searching for his target.

[ooc: Alright, I am going to try writing in the first person - not something I normally do.]

"Get out! This is not your fight!"

The request of a woman was not one I would normally refuse, but doing as she asked would have me go against my Code. Whether she was defenseless or not, the knight in me would not permit me to run from a battle, especially when these folks seemed to be outnumbered and against demons at that. The defense of a lady, the upholding of good and right, and doing the Lord's work in sending these demons back to their domain were the reasons I will stay.

"No, M'lady, I shan't leave," I professed as I whipped my white, gold trimmed cloak around my shoulder and pulled a secondary sword from the sheath at my side.

Just as I unsheathed my sword and brought it to bare, an unholy beast that I can only describe as a demon conceived of bones came charging at me with a low growl to lead the way. As his blade came crashing down towards me, I barely got my own blade up in time to parry his quick blow. Obviously, I would have to analyze this demon's style before going on the offensive as I had never seen something like it before.

He... or rather it was fast; faster than I was in my armor, but the few blows he managed to get by my defense were light and stopped by my blessed armor before doing my body any harm. After matching him stride for stride for several moments, I decided to strike. Changing my style, I became aggressive and took the initiative away from the beast. I slapped one of his strikes to the side with my blade and stepped inside his defense. As the demon was built solely of bones, there was no apparent weak or lethal spot I could strike for, so I attempted to take out his sword arm with one fell swoop. As fast as the demon was, he could not move out of my range before I struck, bringing my sword down hard on the joint between its arm and shoulder. However, things did not go as planned...

My sword, much to my chagrin, became entangled in his mess of bones and try as I might, I could not remove it. I used the weight of my armored body to pull down on it, attempting to cut through the bones, but as I did it snapped in half, leaving me with just the hilt and few shards metal. Seeing my defenseless now, the fiend rammed me in the side of the head with the hilt of his sword and my feet lifted from the ground beneath me as I went soaring through the air and crashing into the wooden frame of a stable.

I was shaken up to say the least, but as my temporary vertigo subsided, I got to my feet and readied myself once again to do battle with the evil spirit. However, this time it would be different... This time I will have my prized, indestructible, angelic sword, the Angel's Wing. Still lodged to my back, I pulled it loose and in one swift movement I unleashed its hidden power to produce an angular blast of energy that flies at extreme speeds at its target. Dirt and dust flew as the energy took the form of an Angel's wings and soared towards the Bone Demon....

Hatsuri looked at the man, unuse to greed for greed's sake. Sure he was use to merchents, but that was an honest search for profit rather than a greedy nature. As he was about to reply he'd been talking to screamed about everyone leaving as a number of demons of various breeds appeared.

The presence of demons triggered a subtle change in him, not something that could be identified, neither in appearence, nor stance but a difference none the less. With a shift of his body he leapt up, catching ahold of a crossbeam and flipping himself up. "Now this is a Party." He called out in a crude tone as he looked at the partially denuded woman with a leer, while reaching under his clothes and pulling out a pair of steel chopsticks. Looking over at the man with the two swords.

"Sucks to be him." He added with a mocking laugh as he watched some skin start smoking while the wakizashi likewise began pitting from the acidic blood.

A brief look around revealed that only one of the demon types were unarmoured, by chiten, bone or more traditional armour. As such he hurled both chopsticks down at the nearer demon of bone(3), each with sufficiant force to slay an unarmoured man. With the two in mid-flight, he began running along the beam toward the massively oversized scorpion(4) and presently unoccupied flaming demon(6).

If they were only unusual as what they'd already displayed, then thier rears were a large blind and weak spot. He'd had to handle scorpions and spiders to milk them of venom and was thus somewhat familiar with easiest ways to grab them. He flipped foreward and rotated 180 degrees and counted on the fact that scorpions were unable to strike behind them, nor spin rapidly. He intended to get the two to kill each other, as it was always fun to get allies to butcher each other. Calling out to the woman with a lecherous leer in his voice, "After this, care for a horizontal match? I'll even give you a handicap so your girlfriend can join in."

"Oh, I knew there was a reason I got up today. This...is gonna be fun." Powell began to mutter as well. Which meant one thing. Whereas other spellcasters had to rely on incantations for most of their work, Powell had to do it only for one thing. Tapping into the Primordial Streams. The power of the gods, it was this requirement that marked him as a fallen deity. Of course, you had to be divine to access it in the first place, and not a "demon on this plane" type deal either. You had to exist on the high plane that bordered the streams.

Powell recited the incantation in his mind, breathing out slowly, allowing his words to be carried by the elements to the streams of power. It would weaken him, but far a chance to kill a lich, it was well worth it. As he finished, he felt the power connect, and quickly build. "You made a serious mistake, Lich. I well know who you are. But being Arch-Magius changes nothing. I'm no mortal. I'm divine, one step away from full deity-hood." Powell took out a flask, filled with water from the temple. Holy Water. "Unlike you, I can bare the touch of Holy Water. I revel in it. That puts me one step above you."

As the dead began to rise, Powell let himself loose. His skin began to glow, his eyes went white, his hair turned raven, and the mist began to draw away from him, or rather, his holy power slowly canceled it out. The army of the undead was nothing to him. The Lich was. He brought one hand up, stepped back slightly, adopting the pose of fist fighter, but with his outstretched hand, gestured with his fingers. "Bring it," in simple sign language.

Dirt and dust flew as the energy took the form of an Angel's wings and soared towards the Bone Demon....

The blessed energies slammed into the demon with an incredible impact, one that lifted it from the ground and hurled it back nearly a score of feet and the it's landing against one of the support pillars made the entire stables shake, nearly costing those standing in the rafters their footing.

Stuned and severly damaged by the divine power the demon reeled away from the thick pole and moaned, an eerie sound that sent cold shivers courseing over all within the building.

Long moments passed then he was chargeing towards Sebastain his sword whirling in deadly arcs.

*************************
Nari and the Illu'varr she had confronted were engaged in a whirlwind flurry of blows. Sparing with Orome for the last six months had improved her skills immensely but she was also tired from the sparring with the Tribesman. Nari did not have the stanima for physcial combat that Orome did. She would have prefered to confront the assassin useing her inate abilities but she had attemped that already, and found much to her internal dismay that some one had planned well.

She was currently unable to tap into them with any assurance. They were unable to block her completely, but she was severly hampered. Resorting to physical combat while part of her worked around the barriers they'd erected was the only thing she could do. The sooner the assassins could be taken down the better, for one of the three was the focus of their efforts to keep her from her deadliest skills.

The rictus grin on the face of the one she was fighting let her know that her guess was correct, and a blow got past her defensive manuevers. She went to her knees as the force of the blow broke her collar bone and ripped downward through her torso. The Illu'varr stepped in for the return stroke and Nari did the only thing she could.

Lightning stroked down from the sky, and swallowed her with a crack of thunder from a cloudless sky.

Worfan had a look of interest on his skeletal face. The Arch Magius was used to seeing people of high level to epic power but this guy seemed to be drawing power from something more powerful than the normal streams of arcane power. Worfan for a second was nearly surprised however, Powell's explanation made sense a man near god like status would have access to such power.

Worfan smiled and said in an imperious tone, "It will take more than a build up of divine magic to beat me. You would have to focus your immense power and crush me. I hope you are ready to face a true master of darkness and death. You simpering child!"

The Lich activated his ring and his amulet at the same time. The effect was quick and effective as the magical energy from both items started to form two separate energy barriers around Worfan. It was easy to tell the first one was the weakest barrier and the second was stronger. The Ring's barrier was colored a dark purple as it formed the first magical line of defense. The second barrier completely engulfed the Lich's form into complete and utter darkness. The darkness was not normal darkness seen during this time of day but it was the kind that was formed out of the Necromantic arts and increased Worfan's power immensely.


Worfan waved his free hand and then pointed a long skeletal pointer finger at Powell's direction. The undead started to converge upon Powell with the intent of feasting on his flesh. Worfan knew it was a suicide mission to send them all at once but it was suppose to be a distraction while Worfan started to begin chanting to cast a spell meant to call death from the heavens….

"You sir, are incorrigable! And your robes will scarce hinder the effects of their blood, they are demons and their blood destroys what it touches, save for that which is enchanted, or of silk. But saki neutralizes it."

Well, that explains a lot about why their blood burns me like they did, and whatever 'saki' was, at least I know the healing liquid she had applied on me had a name. I can't quite recall what 'saki' was, however, which was strange considering that in my line of work, I'm pretty intimate with the kinds of stuff that heal. Or maybe it was just the heat of the battle making me forgetful, but for the moment, the little temptress's labelling of me as incorrigible brings a smile to my face. I just love it when women call me that.

"I try to be of service", I wink at her, raising my cap to her again.

"And while I appreciate your admiration of me, you scarely know me and if you react like this to every pretty woman, you might not be that interesting to me! I am a very discerning, discriminating lady"'

Ah?

For the first time in a long, long while, I was caught off guard by the words of a woman. Taking advantage of my momentary surprise, the little minx whirled away from me, flashing me a grin of a own. And in her spin, the kimono she was wearing was gone; replaced by robes not unlike my own, although the lightning embroidery on the back was a little flashy, definitely not suited to the tastes of a woman of the Plains. I'm wondering though; how'd she conjure that dress up out of nothing? And there was the invisible floor she was walking on earlier, too. Definitely there is something about this girl that more than meets the eye.

[COLOR="Red"]"My name is Kaminari. You'll have to take his head, or I will, for both our weapons are kami blessed."[/COLOR}

Kaminari. That was the name of the little minx, she who had caught my eye in a way all the women I have met over the past six years of my lonely travels had not. Kaminari. I am always going to remember that name, I know it. There was no forgetting such an unforgettable, such an extraordinary lady. And then she was gone, leaping from rafter from rafter as she reentered the fight. Leaving me standing.

Mentally, I cursed myself. Tian, oh Tian, whatever has happened to you? Dazzled by a lady; that was something that simply did NOT happen to me! Yet, it has......Kaminari had dazzled me in a way no other woman has, and I knew somehow, even if I spent the rest of my life on this long and lonely road, I would not find another like her. She was special. Slowly, I began to chuckle to myself, as I put my robes back on.

"A challenge. How exciting, I've not had a challenge like this for a long time", I whisper to myself, my face contorted into a permanent grin from the thrill of having met such a woman. And here I was, thinking that the only woman who could ever interest me enough to make me settle down with her, would have to be one who came from my lands, a woman of the Plains, unique amongst the female species for being every bit as strong as their men. I guess I was wrong; this outsider is a strong one, and a worthy challenge. Oh, I would not tire of her for a long, long time. And that was an achievement no other woman could lay claim to, as yet. I slip on my robes, only to find it was no longer solely my own; whatever trickery she had up her sleeves, it had turned my dusty, travel-worn tribemen's robe into that made of the finest silk. It still looked very much like my own robe, of course, but......it was silk. The feeling of it as it glided over my back was like a caressing liquid, smoother than anything to the touch. A gift.

Then, the whole world shook around me. Something had crashed into a support pillar hard enough to cause the stable to shake, and I damned near lost my footing there. Of course, a Sparrowhawk never loses his footing, so after the initial surprise, it was a simple matter for me to regain my footing, and bring the Ultimatum to bear once again, ready for anything.

And then I saw her again. She was about to be struck down by one of the demons, one which sent chills down my spine, and I knew it to be a powerful one. I would never reach her in time.

Yet, I had to try. I had just met the greatest woman in my life; I certainly wasn't about to lose her now! With a growl of the first flickerings of anger I had ever felt in years, an emotion I had not tasted since I left the Plains, I leapt at them, my treasure blade raised, and at the ready. Yet, I knew she was doomed. I could not reach her in time, to save her from the killing blow that the demons was bearing down on her.

Nor from the bolt of lightning that struck down out from the blue, and consumed her whole.

Shocked and in full wrath, I continue my flight towards the demon who had bested her, my anger feeding my willpower to exact revenge on the abomination for it killing the only woman I was ever truly interested in. And willpower is the basis of the Sparrowhawk Arts; it was what allowed us to perform our exceptional feats, feats no other martial arts on this world can even begin to emulate. With my rage feeding my will to fight, I began to move faster than ever before; afterimages of myself began to fan out from behind me, following my flight path as I charged at the demon, a snarl of utter destructive desire on my face.

It is said that the worst enemy one could ever face, was an angered, wrathful Sparrowhawk in full steam. Well, I'm going to make sure that this demon is going to believe that statement.

Powell grinned. Worfan had negelcted one important factor, or had been truly blind. For in Powell's second hand, he held a vial of Holy Water, which he had drawn out while deriding the undead idiot for mistaking him for a mortal. With the first hand still upraised, he shot out a powerful stream of energy, intent on breaking through the barriers Worfan had erected. Well, the weaker one, at least.

The vial dropped from Powell's hands, unplugged by his thumb, and the Holy Water was drawn out as the vessel fell, leaving it floating just above his left hand. Since he had a source, he merely had to multiply it, and as he did so, shoot it out directly at the second barrier. Powell was no idiot. He could recognize a necromantic barrier if he was close enough, and a lich of Worfan's caliber would be certain to use one. Putting two and two together was easy enough. Subtracting four required the holy water.

As the undead army began to close upon the fallen god, Powell increased the feed to his energy blast. It arced out, at neck level, and as the zombies began to close, they were decapitated upon reaching proximity. Powell didn't like the fact that Worfan was muttering just before he was enveloped in darkness. He had to give the lich another baptism, and quick.

The Illu'varr assassin was casting even as he materialized, a risky attempt, and one that served him well, but not well enough. The ravening energies swept over me, engulfed me in a hurricane of sheer elemental forces, but before they could actually make contact with me my left hand blade was absoring them, the crystal glowing with balefire light. Then my right hand blade was reaching for his neck in a rippling, flowing movement that was as graceful as it was economical.

For a second he stood, seemingly untouched by my blades lightning swift movement, but that was mere illusion, for with the next breath he sought to take, his head toppled to the ground, still mouthing the chant of his next arcan assault. One that now he would never complete but that was a hazard as well for the energies he had been focusing now were released in an uncontrolled backlash.

Behind me I heard Black Fang as he pressed his attack against another assassin, and part of me knew that Nari had summoned the lightning to guard and hold her safe.

Then the arcane forces unleased by the failed casting broke about us as I spun to face the Bone demon that had come upon me from my right side.

Worfan's incantation was finally complete after his first barrier had been vaporized in a blast of divine energy. The necromantic barrier tried to hold against the holy water but it had the same effect as trying to hold off acid. The necromantic barrier was slowly being eaten away by the holy energy within the water. The darkness was receding from existence.

Worfan was shocked but not totally surprised to find that his barriers were being broken so quickly by this powerful individual. The evil lich finally prepared to complete the spell that would bring certain destruction to probably everybody in a mile radius to this blast.


Worfan's spell called upon the very spirit entities of the sky and forced them to pull down giant flaming rocks from the sky. This spell was an evocation spell known as Meteor Swarm a highly nefarious spell used by powerful wizard's to decimate large numbers of enemies and crush a powerful single opponent.

The city would greatly suffer from this attack as the meteors started to descend from the heavens during the dark night. It would be hard for people to avoid them unless they looked up at the night sky and saw these flaming boulders coming down onto the people's certain doom.

The undead army of zombies and skeletons was nearly wiped out from Powell's very effective attacks. This situation did not concern Worfan in the slightest. The meteors would cause a lot more death in the city and they could probably be more useful being newly dead and all.

The lich smiled at Powell and said in his most ironic tone, "Person from the heavens. I send you a gift from the heavens!"


Worfan looked up to the descending meteors and prepared to teleport out of the graveyard. It would most likely be turned into rubble in a matter of minutes. Worfan in his last few seconds of material substance locked his eyes on Powell and tried to see what he would do next..

Vengeance for the life of one so dear became the only thing in my mind, a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins as I brought the full force of my wrath down on the humanoid demon that fell Kaminari. But I'm not a barbarian charging into a brawl with a war cry on my lips; I am a swordmaster of the Sparrowhawk discipline, and I do things with utmost efficiency; no effort wasted on needless displays, just everything focused on the defeat of my foe. All my wrath, all my thirst for vengeance, every single bit of skill I had gained in my Arts, all brought to bear against the object of my rage.

But I had never come up against such an opponent before, so I had no idea what to expect. And in my rage, I had quite forgotten that it was a demonic thing I was facing, very different from anything else I had faced over the past six years. Come to think of it, in all my travels to pit my skills against the warriors of other lands, I had so many quick and easy victories against these fat, soft city slickers, that I had gotten used to it. I don't remember one time I had to spend too much time trying to get past the defenses of any one warrior, that was pretty much how good I was, even for a Tribesman of the Plains, a Sparrowhawk above any other of my peers. Perhaps I had gotten so used to easy victories, that it has become my weakness, in a sense.

All I know for sure is, I never had such a tough time against any one opponent in my life. I had gotten used to being the best, starting from when I was beating my fellows on the Plains when I was still a sprite just beginning to learn how to wield a katana. And then, when I defeated first every other Sparrowhawk in the Tribe, then in all the Plains. And even in my travels, where I faced challenges different to that which my own peers provided. But this was a whole new different thing altogether, and I almost came off the worse for it.

Anyway, I knew I was fast, but what I didn't anticipate was that the demon was faster. I clashed my Ultimatum against his own weapon for a few rounds; after just a few moments, it became apparent to me that this wasn't going to be an easy fight. For one thing, I was used to taking the fight to the opponent, leaving them scrambling just to parry my strikes; this guy though matched me in speed, and he could actually counterattack whenever I left myself open; pretty soon, the silk robes Kaminari gave me were torn in a few places again, and perhaps for the first time in a long while, I felt what it was like to be injured. Thankfully though, they were barely more than mere scratches, and while the wounds stung and felt somewhat moist from the blood that was let, it didn't hinder me much from pressing my attack; for every wound the demon inflicted on me, I returned with interest, and it too was reeling back from the wounds I had dealt it.

Apart from the wounds I had received, which did serve to lower the godlike self-confidence I had built up during my six-year victory run, the battle was still going well. The demon, already injured and drained beforehand by Kaminari, was ill-equipped to engage in another battle so soon, and demon though it was, it was falling prey to the same thing all my opponents had fallen prey to; the fact that it was on the retreat while I was pressing the offensive, giving it no room for a breather like a good Sparrowhawk operates. Yet, it was still handling the pressure I was putting on it quite well, far better than most I've seen. What irks me is the fact that the demon was fast enough to actually throw counters back at me every now and then, forcing me to recall every bit of the evasion tactics I knew, something I had not had to do for a long time. With the fact that I actually had to put in effort in evading this demon's counterattacks, I could not rely solely on piling on the pressure like I had gotten used to doing. What was worse, was that while I'm at my peak condition, jumping off beams and rafters like a black lightning bolt, this demon could actually match my physical prowess with its arcane abilities, and actually fly in midair, something which even I couldn't do reliably over long distances. Thus, while I was the one pressing the attack, it was the demon which was deciding in which direction our battle was going for the most part, and many a time I had to cut it off in order to prevent it from flying to a spot where it could expect help from one of its allies.

It was one of the trickiest battles I've ever had to face, and with sweat pouring down my brow from all the effort I've never had to expend until this day, I almost fell for the trick that the abomination somehow still managed to keep in its sleeve; even in the heat of battle, it had somehow managed to throw a magical curse at me. At the close range we were both in, even a Sparrowhawk such as I was could not dodge; thank god for my charmed blade Ultimatum, which proved its worth as I used it to rip the magical fabric out of the curse, thereby dissipating it. However, that was enough distraction for the demon warrior-mage to press its attack; soon I was the one dodging and parrying all of the warrior-mage's strikes, both physical and magical. The tide has been turned on me, and I don't like it, for fighting defensively has never been my strong suit. And it showed, for within the space of a couple more minutes, several more large cuts had appeared on my body, dealt by the sword of the warrior-mage as I was busy parrying the curses it threw at me.

I was tired, I was weary, and I was mad. It was time to end this.

With the warrior-mage coming at me once again, I landed in one of the unoccupied stalls, and kicked a bale of hay in its face; it reeled back from the unexpected divertion, allowing me to reverse the tide of battle back towards my advantage once more. Once again, it had to resort to parrying several quick strikes from my blade, and as I knocked it back a fair distance with a particularly vicious strike, I feel my adrenaline overflowing.

I, too, still had a few more tricks up my sleeve.

I charged once more at the visibly exhausted warrior mage, going in for the final encounter; time seemed to slow down as I became even faster, and I knew what the warrior-mage would be seeing; that of its black-clad enemy suddenly moving hellishly fast towards itself, to the point that I was a blurred entity, afterimages of myself playing itself across its eyes. With a snarl, the demon warrior-mage fired off several spells at me, hoping to knock me off course; only the last one managed to hit me, striking my left arm and rendering it numb and useless, but that didn't matter. I only needed my right, and in a matter of seconds, I was under the thing's guard.

First order of business, divest it of its blade. Second order of business, deal multiple crippling strikes across its limbs to cut its mobility down. Final order of business, take Kaminari's last piece of advice to me, and chop its head cleanly off. The demon warrior-mage was the first victim of my first ever Wrath Technique; the Sparrowhawk 'Shadows' Technique.

I jump away from the falling body of the demon warrior-mage even as it started dropping to its knees, finding a shadowed corner where I could rest for the moment. Only when I was sure that I was secure and hidden for the moment, did I drop down to my knees and clutch my abdomen in pain; ribs broken, left arm numb and hanging loosely like a limp piece of meat, many strikes across my body, and I was losing a bit of blood.

This was something I had not had to deal with for a while. I don't know how much more stamina I have for the rest of the abominations within this place.

Okay, the lich has power. Time to deal with that. I wonder how long he'll stick around for? Powell thought as he sensed the meteors. He had to act, fast. Canceling it out would be of only moderate difficulty, but too flashy for his tastes. If only to contain it...That's it. I wonder if the old boy has ever had a rock dropped on his head? Let's see about a thousand.

Powell launched into the sky. He flew out to the farthest reaches of the meteor shower, and began circling around. as he did, he slowly spiraled in, well, relatively speaking. By starting at the outside, the inside would follow more quickly. Normally Powell couldn't go this fast. But he had juiced up and was ready to kill. The air began to spin with such force that as the first rocks hit, most were immediately pulverized into dust. As he finshed the spiral, the power trailing behind him and rushing to catch up, He plummeted straight for the lich, teleporting at the las minute. The effect was total.

Powell had effectively decreased the range of the meteor shower to the area of the cemetary centered around the lich. In doing so, many of the smaller and medium sized lumps of rock and ice were turned to fast moving dust. The larger bodies were reduced in size, but trapped in the vortex, hurtling towards the lich at very high speeds. As Powell, from his perch some distance away, looked at the lich, he saw Worfan dematerialize. Shit, he's fleeing. Ah well, maybe next time. Means more fun for the both of us. "COWARD!!! STAY AND FIGHT!!! Or are you too weak after that pitiful attempt to try anything else?!"

Worfan had managed to hear Powell's mocking banter as he dissolved into the magical energy of his teleporation spell. The lich rematerialized about six miles away from the graveyard. This took him well outside of the city of Orlando and away from the devastating earthquake that would have been ravaging the sleeping city.


Worfan took a long look at the direction of the city and pondered on what to do now. If he tried to go back into the city and check on the damage. The annoying but powerful mortal would get in the way again on the other hand the damage could be worth a conflict for their dead corpses.

Worfan finally decided to create a little friend to find out if it would be worth trying to get back to the city. The spell involved very little effort on the lich's part. The incantation was quickly muttered in a few seconds and a small eye formed out of the forming energy in front of Worfan.

The floating human eye opened up and looked around at its creator and everything around. Worfan could "see" everything the eye saw at the same instant. The lich smiled and forced his creation to float towards the city and begin a little reconnaissance on the city to see if there were enough deaths to create another undead army.

Worfan watched his creation rush through the trees and toward the path that would lead it to the city. It was only a matter of time…

In doing so, many of the smaller and medium sized lumps of rock and ice were turned to fast moving dust. The larger bodies were reduced in size, but trapped in the vortex, hurtling towards the lich at very high speeds.

Powell watched as the dust slammed to the ground, rebounding and collapsing, creating a large mound at the bottom of his magical vortex that was almost as quickly enshrouded in a cloud. The now small rocks slammed into it, but the nature of the mound itself, that it was dust, absorbed the impact. Powell could feel the ground shake slightly beneath him once, and knew that he had succeeded.

The smaller, obliterated meteors had become cushioning material for the impact of the larger rocks. Had the lich been there, the dust would not have mounded upon him, but rather around, still leaving room to be hit. With his abscence, and thus the space unoccupied by a solid object, the dust rose in a single mound, as opposed to a ring, and as such absorbed a greater impact of the rocks that were left. Another shockwave, this from another set of larger rocks, but Powell saw it was dying down. Using his power to keep his face clear, he watched as the last of the meteors hurtled down, and then the last streams of dirt and sediment fell in. The bonds holding the magical funnel in place were released. A few of the undead had yet to be taken care of, so Powell turned his attention to that small matter while he pndered just what Worfan was planning to do.

Powell had known of Worfan while still a deity. He had intended to take are of him one day, but his father had forbade it, and that was that. The loss of his deityhood had been over a matter much smaller than eliminating Worfan, and he shuddered to think of what might have happened if he had actually taken Worfan down.

The cemetary of Orlando wasn't big, most of the inhabitants favoring cremating. But the funerary grounds were filled - or had once been filled- with elaborate stone mauseoleums, now there were pounded down beneath the barrage directed upon the relatively small area the cemetary covered. Dust flew up and created a thick blanket that diminished considerably, but did not completely dampen the shocks created by the impacts.

The citty reeled as did any of it's populace where were up and moving about - and in the strange midday turned twilight by the dust cloud - most were. People feel to their feet or knees, and some were thrown to the floor by the force of the various debris falling on them. Some of which were heavy enough to crush the life from those unfortunate enough to be caught under said wreckage.

In places oil lamps were jostled from their setting to tumble to the floor, breaking and spreading flaming oil over all with in range. Fires began to spread though homes and businesses, though not with any great speed, for Orland was mostly built of brick. The banks of along the river produced a fine amber hued clay that when fired made strong bricks and blocks.

The loss of live was not great, but the citys usually placid life was definitely disrupted, as the guarda was brought in to help fight the fires, prevent looting and keep the general peace.

The prince of Orlando was very wroth over the trouble brought to his city.

Hatsuri smiled as he landed lightly behind the scorpion demon, his smile changing to a cruel smirk as he looked at the injured demon that was making it’s way toward him. “Is that the fastest you can move you putrid sludge ball. Your own mother wouldn’t touch you and she’s the biggest slut this side of Lilith.” He taunted as he accompanied the words with appropriate gestures.

As the demon roared at the insults, more for that fact that a simple mortal was taking the mickey out of it than the nature of the insults. Meanwhile Hatsuri was watching the scorpion out of the corner of his eye as it turned to bring its fearsome weaponry on the target that had come so close to it. He knew for his plan to succeed that the timing would have to be quite close as if either moved too fast or slow they’d be unlikely to set the scene for their mutual deaths.

As the scorpion managed to turn sufficiently to bring it’s tail into play, he shot a final, highly insulting gesture at the injured demon and added an insult that was certain to cause the demon to lose it’s head, figuratively and literally. With a grin he called out to the demon, “You go to church don’t you?”

This bit of mockery was the final straw for the demon and it leapt forward with a blood-churdling snarl at the same time that the demonic scorpion struck. As the scimitar like end of the tail flashed forward and the demon’s blade was extended in a lunge, both intended to transfix the pride of the Hiragana family like a butterfly in an entomologist’s collection. Twisting to the side, he just avoided getting slammed by the formerly flying demon as the sting of the scorpion slammed into the wounded demon, pining it to the ground while pumping potent venom into the luckless and hapless beast.

Picking up a length of chain, normally used to hoist fodder for the horses, as he moved toward the rear of monsterous scorpion, he looped it around a rear leg at the uppermost joint. By pulling with sufficient force on the ends, it could be utilized to slice off a joint. By the time he’d removed the legs on one side, sufficient body fluid had leaked onto it to render the chain pitted, corroded and utterly useless, but unless it had a potent regenerative system it would also die relatively quickly, lame and impotent.

Perched precariously at the end of one of the rafters in the stables, hidden in the shadows of a corner, it was thus all too natural that I was swept off my feet when the whole place started shaking, creating a quake so great I could not help but lose my footing. Normally, a Sparrowhawk is in full control of his balance, but not even the best of them can keep his feet when they've been surprised like that. Well, at least I certainly can't, and in short order I was going down the fastest way possible, by falling. Plummeting head first to the ground, which would serve to split my skull open, and end my life prematurely right there.

Of course, I am a Sparrowhawk, the best of my peers. I wasn't about to be killed by something as mundane as falling head-first; with deceptively graceful ease, I flipped myself head over heels, and landed lightly on both feet onto the ground, right into an unoccupied stall. A cat would have been proud of the perfect landing I had just executed, and yet as I stood up, I doubled over in pain, clutching my ribs. I had quite forgotten that some of them were broken, yet now I couldn't ignore the pain that was shooting up my ribs as I spat out a bit of blood. Damned, that last demon got me good; I was going to have to rest for a while before I go ahead with my plans for the next few days. Not that they'll matter if I die here today, but in my current state, I wasn't going to be able to fight well enough unless I did something.

Thankfully, I still had something to spare. I was hidden inside a stall which was not in the warpath of those damned rampaging giant scorpions, so I still had some time to recover. With a bit of peace to myself, at least for a little while, I felt around in my belt for the small ceramic vials that I hung around my waist, ready for just a time such as this when I'm in trouble and need an extra boost. I pick out one, pop the cork off the little ceramic vial, and drank it down; one gulp of the strong palm date wine of the Plains, made only by the Tribes that wander the land, and in which is pickled the gall bladder of a Glass Fang Cobra, one of the most venomous snakes in the Plains. Ah yes, you heard me right, the gall bladder of a Glass Fang Cobra. Sounds sick to you, doesn't it, you soft city slicker? But in actuality, the gall bladder of a Glass Fang is a prized thing amongst the Tribesmen, since it is actually a very potent tonic. We Tribesmen ingest it pickled in palm date wine regularly, as part of our training in the Ways that we train ourselves in, since it aids us in our mastery of the innate energy that powers the fantastic physical feats we're known for. And in times of need, when we ingest the gall bladder in wine, it gives us a boost that helps us to ignore any pain, and reenergizes us greatly, enough to continue the fight for at least a while more. Of course, such a potent tonic would only prove too toxic for a soft city slicker.

In any case, I swallow the gall bladder and grimace; even drowned in the strong taste of date wine, it is unbearably bitter even for one as used to it as I was. Nevertheless, I could feel it immediately working in my body; a blazing heat swept throughout my body, dulling the pain and awakening the sense in a fantastic symphony of energy. My whole body, warmed by the combined effects of the strong wine and the potent gallbladder, feels prepped for a fresh round of combat yet again; tossing the ceramic vial aside, I stand up with scant difficulty, and leap out of the stalls again, ready for whichever of these uglies choose to come at me next. Yes, the gall bladder of a Glass Fang snake really is a wonderous thing.

Powell heard the rumble of the earthquake as objects began crashing in the city. "Shit. Worse than I thought." He drew out a small measure of energy to revitalize himself. It appeared as though his work would be cut out for him yet. He needed to get back to the inn which the lich had occupied to see if there was anything he could find. Not likely, but the best chance he had for now.

Long moments passed then he was chargeing towards Sebastain his sword whirling in deadly arcs.

The hell spawn was back and charging at me with a vengeance. The holy blast of energy from my trust sword had clearly done damage to the demon as it was slightly limping and many of its bones had been tussled about. Unfortunately, its injuries did not stop its bloodlust. As it came charging for me, I brought the Angel's Wing to bare once more and clashed with the mighty brute in the corridor of the stable-house.

Its speed had barely been affected by the wear and tear of battle and I was struggling to match him blow for blow. Thrice he had cut into my armor, cleaving holes that exposed by tunic below, and once he even caught flesh, drawing blood from my left arm in a painful experience. A few drops of the precious life source we call blood dripped out onto my armor and began shimmering on its face. A warrior's sight if there ever was one...

My mind was busy racing as I wrestled about on how to take the demon down once and for good as I continued to parry and counter when I could. And then the finishing blows were nearly dropped into my lap. An earthquake, or at least a seismic shock of some magnitude, shook the ground and unloosed the demon's footing. As I looked about I noticed many of the others had also lost their footing in the tremor, but not I... Wonderful thing this armor of mine is; light as a feather to the wearer, I can move with the same 'grace' as if I was wearing but a tunic. However, it is still as strong, durable, and heavy to the forces of the outside world. When the quake shook the land beneath my feet, my weight was such that I was affected less than the others, and on top of that I was light enough to move into a more stable positioning. Granted I am not the lightest of foot, especially compared to some of these other warriors I have seen today, but I was on firm ground while many of the others were darting betwixt the rafters.

The demon fell to its back as a result of the shake and there I stood above of it with sword in hand. I shouted at the beast as my sword cut across the ground and towards it in a low arcing maneuver. With me entire body weight of force behind me, I cut into the demon and straight through its mess of bones to the head. My trusty sword, sharpened to a diamond's edge and indestructible by the blessing of Angels, served its duty well and despite it all, managed to end the job with a fearsome blow. For good measure I jammed my sword into its fragmented neck and kneeled down. "I cast thee back to thy demonic realm of existence never to return!" My blade coursed holy energy through it once again and slowly the demon vaporized into thin air...

The dust thrown high in the atmosphere brought a strange shimmering twilight to the city, and a brownish stain to the usually clear water of the deep river that the city lay along. The vortex of winds that Powell had created and dismissed - powers playing with the forces of nature-, along with the energies of the Litch Worfan had unleashed, were augumented by those being brought into play with in a large, but ultimately insignificant, stables.

The uncontrolled arcane energies unleashed by the failed casting of the Illu'varr assassin rampaged through the stables, with unpredictable results.

The chopsticks that had impaled the heart of the Bone demon fuzed with the heart, set it afire as they absorbed a portion of the energies. It shrieked and clawed at tiself . Further, a spinning back kick from Orome, accompanied by a corruscant splash of light playing along the edge of the crystaline blade as it seared across the torso of the demon sent it screaming into oblivion.

The ripple of the damanged earth caught her as she spun though the kick and she staggered a step, going to one knee in a defensive posture.

Sebastain found himself in the center of a small wierdling vortex of power that while leaving his his knightly cloak untouched, shredded the tabbard and tunic in to masses of individual threads that spun away on the vortex. The armor beneath glowed for a moment, repaired it'self and shrugged to fit it's bearer just ever so much more perfectly. He would also be surprized to notice later that it now weighted significally less than it had before and hindered his movements no more than a well tailored silk tunic would.

Hatsuri was taking off the legs of the scorpion as it's deadly sting flailed about , the creature trying to reach him. The sting had pumped most of it's venom into the already injured demon that Tain had wounded, but the poison was likking it slowly enough that the demons jagged edge sword had cleaved into the scorpion man times it's acidic ichor spewing thickly about.

Some had landed on Hatsuri, giving him many painful small burns scattered across his body as the ichor ate through his clothes and touched his body.

As Powell returned to the city, using his visions to search for Worfan's taint, he saw something quite out of the ordinary going down at one of the stables. Concentrating his will, he was able to view a large mix of magics in play, including demonic augmentations, divine mssile spells and defensive barriers, elemental artillery that seemed to have been prematurely detonated, and a few other spells in play. Well, it doesn't smell of Worfan, but this does bare investigating.

As Powell teleported there, unseen in his cloud of dust, he took a closer look at the stables to see what was up. He detected the Illu'varr, and the holy knight, both were distinctive to him, but there were others. Well, this will be interesting. As Powell began to seperate them, he became aware of one of the Illu'varr, a mage, fighting a Helcorn. Now that's a little unfair. Powell decided to give some lessons to the assassin on the importance of animal rights.

Powell found an opening in the wall, that, coupled with the noise, indicated a rather lively party indeed. Ducking in, and finding himself far away from the action, he found the Helcorn and assassin rather close. The assassin turned on Powell, hitting him with a rather nasty blast of fire, or would have, had the fallen deity not transformed his body into a somewhat gasseous state, causing the fire-ball to fly right through. Bending his power, Powell moved his hand into a claw-like gesture at the Illu'varr, gripping it rather forcefully as the spell worked to its effect. Petrifications had a tendency to make interesting lawn ornaments, this one was no exception. The party seemed to be winding down, so Powell walked cautiously in to see just what had gone down in this stable, keeping his hold on the now statuesque demon-mage.

He cursed slightly as he leapt back to avoid the splash of acidic ichor, mentally cursing whatever twisted nether freak had decided to add that particular enchancement to his putrid minions. Enemies were not suppose to fight back after death, or re-death in the case of the animated corpses that served the wills of cowardly necromancers.

As he watched the demon and the scorpion continue killing each other, he felt the sting of the caustic goo that had burnt its way through the durable fabrics to reach his skin. It itched and ate at his flesh to some extent but with training in Iron Foot and Palm techniques, he had also undergone Iron Shirt training which helped neutralize acid's effectiveness.

They still stung quite a bit but the extract treatments of the Iron training had proven thier worth in strengthening his body against injury.

As the stables shakes under the force of the modest earthquake and the energies being released with in it...

at this moment...

Orome is on one knee, looking towards where...

Black Fang and the last remaining Illuvarr warrior mage were dueling, the aged Helcorn bleeding severly in several places, he was coming out the worse in the combat but had been preventing his attacker from employeing any arcana.

The last winged demon is flying through the rafters toawrds her.

Sebastain has found his armor altered, strengthened and perfected. However the two smaller demon scorpions are clambering their way towards him through the wreckage of the stalls that had once speperated them

Hatsuri is directing his energies toward dealing with with the minor burns suffered as demon ichor has splashed him.

Tain is in a stall drinking down restorative potions

The floating eye continued toward the city at a tremendous speed. It was small and fast like a fly and just as versatile in the air. The magical construct finally reached the city and headed towards the graveyard. It noted the damage that the earthquake had wrought and showed the images to its master.

The eye in its search for carnage also discovered an interesting spectacle near the stables near the inn. The eye saw a fight between a group of demonic outsiders and a group of warriors.

The floating eye did not have time to see the entire spectacle as its duration ran out and the eye dissolved into dust. This scene had enticed Worfan slightly and the inquisitive lich decided to go there and investigate.


Worfan was still greatly displeased with the damage. He wondered how there was such a lack of damage the meteors should have caused enough damage to bring at least a quarter of the city into the ground? It did not make sense to the calculating undead creature.


Worfan continued back towards the city and decided to lay low. Worfan willed his cloak to make him look like a different old man. He now had a white beard and no hair as opposed to a gray hair and a long mane of hair. He also to cast a minor spell that would conceal himself from detection spells.

The ancient lich decided to take a quick break after three miles of walking. It was a long walk back to the city and the fight had tired Worfan greatly. This would give Worfan time to think and come up with a plan to manipulate the situation to his own advantage….

The intense heat of the Glass Fang's gallbladder coursed through my veins, energizing my body and sharpening my senses for the continuing battle ahead. I ready the Ultima in my hand, but I confess that I am somewhat surprised, when I notice that the demons seemed to have forgotten about me altogether. The bone demons were nowhere in sight, Angsty Boy had somehow managed to get the larger of the three giant scorpions to get into the scrap with the flying demon whose wings I had clipped, the other flying demon was charging at Kaminari's companion, the last demon of the spellcasting kind that I had smited just earlier was engaged in battle with some big black horse, and the two other scorpions was skittering their way towards the heavily armored oaf. Definitely it seemed that the oaf needed more help than anyone else at this point, and although he still seemed a soft, inferiorly skilled city slicker to me, I'm not one to wish others dead for no reason at all. Quickly, the decision was made; I'll help the oaf deal with his little bug problem, although I don't know how well I can do against these seemingly heavily armored super-scorpions. That was why I went for the flying demon and the spellcaster demon first; they were both dangerous opponents in their own way, but at least they were soft-fleshed targets for Ultima to quench its thirst on. Armoured opponents, on the other hand, are somewhat a bit more problematic for me. But I'll do what I can.

Wait a minute.......a horse battling a demon?!

With time to spare, I take a closer look at the horse again, and almost immediately I reel back in shock. "Yao ma!", I utter to myself, using the name we give such abominations of nature in my native language: Demon horse. I hadn't realized there was one of these there, but now the signs were there for all to see. Red flaming eyes, horn like a unicorn's; yes, this is what the decadents call the Helcorn, a truly fearsome creature from the pits, and yet I can see clearly for myself that it was fighting for our side. Well, at least it's fighting against the demons, but why would it fight against its own kind unless.......unless it had been soul-bonded or something? Maybe it's protecting whoever its master is, whoever of us here is fighting even now against the demons?

At least one of us here isn't what he or she seems, ran the thought in my head as I promptly refocused on the battle. The biting agony that was running through my ribs was now but a dull pain, dampened somewhat by the date wine-cobra gallbladder cocktail I had consumed, and that means I can fight at my full ability once more. With a great heave, I leap up into the air again, gliding lightly through the air as my feet barely touch ground in my flight towards my next target. The wreckage caused by the tremor makes for somewhat unstable footing than previously, but that's no problem for me as I manouvere myself gradually into the blind spot of one of the demon scorpions charging towards the oaf, taking care not to attract the attention of any other enemy in the meantime.

The two scorpions were almost upon the oaf; I don't know if the scorpion I was aiming for could see me, but what I know for sure was that it couldn't turn around fast enough to get at me. In a heartbeat, I was bounding within striking distance; in the next, I had amputated the sting from its tail cleanly, my momentum taking me clear from the spray of ichor that fountained out from the stump I had left behind. Scorpion chitin may be unbelievably strong, but the weak point remains, as it is for all other types of armour, in the joints. In any case, I stepped lightly on the back of scorpion, and then bounded off to avoid the spray of ichor, my Ultima claiming the scorpion's eyes next in the process. Kaminari may have said that pure silk protects against the acidic demon ichor, but I'm not about to put that to the test.

"Brace!", I shout to the oaf, catching his attention enough to get him to do exactly that for me. With a step on his shoulder blades, taking care to avoid his face in the meantime, I bound up into the rafters again, hoping to draw the attention of the sole remaining uninjured scorpion; the knight may be an oaf, but I'm sure he can take care of a stingless, sightless scorpion. Can't he?

I perch on one of the rafters, watching the other scorpion if it tries to climb after me. I'm ready to play wild goose chase, anytime.

Powell stepped in to see the demonic arachnids rush the holy knight. Keeping his grip on the now immobilized assassin, he watched as an acrobat dropped down to attack the one scorpion before lightly floating back up to the rafters. The movement was exactly like those in Ytherram's scroll. So that's a Sparrowhawk Swordsman from the Plains. Wonder if it's the guy that Ytherram was talking about.

Powell then concentrated on the scorpions. On the one hand, killing them would stabilize this situation, but if he did, he risked losing his grip on the mage. It was at this point that he saw the flying flame demon. "Ware!" he shouted at the woman with a crystaline sword that was the apparent target of the demon. None of this was very good.

Tagged for Entrance Soon

Sebastain found himself in the center of a small wierdling vortex of power that while leaving his his knightly cloak untouched, shredded the tabbard and tunic in to masses of individual threads that spun away on the vortex. The armor beneath glowed for a moment, repaired it'self and shrugged to fit it's bearer just ever so much more perfectly. He would also be surprized to notice later that it now weighted significally less than it had before and hindered his movements no more than a well tailored silk tunic would.

The strangest thing happened to me while I was knocked to my back and in the middle of the vortex. As if this whole ordeal wasn't odd enough, this group of warriors, the demons, the tremors, and now a vortex sprung out of nowhere, my armor felt lighter and snugger. As I got to my feet, using my sword to support my weight, I noticed that the deep cuts and scratches in my armor were healing themselves - that was normal, but when I got up and it was all that much easier, I knew that my armor now weighed less. There was no other explanation. Something odd had just happened and now my blessed armor had been modified from its already enhanced state. Not that I wasn't grateful, just a bit confused. But there was no time for me to brood over such trivial matters right now. I had company...

However the two smaller demon scorpions are clambering their way towards him through the wreckage of the stalls that had once speperated them

The two armored devils that appeared to be giant demonic scorpions moved closer to me as I got to my feet and readied my faithful sword. However, with my new found maneuverability and ease of movement, I felt I could take them despite the odds... perhaps a foolish idea, but still I could not help thinking it.

However, it did not appear as if I would have to do the dead alone. As they closed in, the roguish air-walker leapt from the rafters and swiftly cut one of the beasts down, leaving it sightless and without a stinger to do me harm. He shouted for me to brace myself and so I did, spreading my weight so that he could launch himself back into the rafters on a steady footing. The scorpion he had just disabled was now flailing about uncontrollably as it yearned for its eyesight once again. Its many legs lashed about, cutting the other scorpion's hard armor, which made it quite upset, before coming closer to me. Two of its front legs attempted to thrash me, though I am not quite sure if it even knew it was me any longer. However, when it did so, I easily parried the blows with no effort at all and countered to the beasts head with a few deep slashes...

The other found it best to stay back so as to not get cut by his fellow demon, but I wouldn't let it rest for long. With an upward swing of my blade, a wave of energy cut into the scorpion's neck and drained it of its life force. Tired and injured from my blows, the scorpion dropped to the ground... dead - a most pathetic death.

Now I was mano a mano against the demonic scorpion from a distant realm. As I faced it on the dusty ground of the stables, I felt new presences in the area. Now normally I wouldn't have felt such things at all, but these were powerful, extreme, and polar. A simple person I would have to notice by my natural senses, but these two... these two had great auras about them - great and terrible auras. But I would have to investigate later as now I was locked in battle with this most awful beast.

As I matched the beast blow for blow I could only hope that the others had faired as well; safe and uninjured. However, these new presences worried me - especially the dark one of unknown power and reason. "The undead have come..." I could not help but fear another undead invasion upon the city. I had previously experienced a war against the undead legions and they were not to be taken lightly. Ferocious, sadistic, and deadly were their warriors. Incomparable and endless were their ranks. There was nothing I could do but hope...

A powerful tool hope was. However, in my experience, over the last few years, decades perhaps, the tool has been pushed aside. Fear is now much more common, while hope is pushed a side as a fool's emotion. I can attest to its power to pervade, save, to overcome, but few now trust in it to give them strength. Such a pity...

I clashed with the scorpion for a few minutes, but my new found freedom of movement and lightness of step gave me a new advantage. Many a time had I dueled without armor, and vastly different it is, but now the security of my blessed armor and the power of my mighty sword combined with maneuverability and deftness on my feet gave me the ability to overcome the beast more easily. I hacked hard and cut into its armor, rendering it more and more injured as the battle continued on... but soon I dealt the killing blow as I leapt onto its back and slashed its head clean off. The demon let out a shrieking cry as its blood squirted out, but I managed to avoid it for the most part by leaping from its back and onto the stable floor beside it.

The two dead scorpions lay in a cross, one on top of the other, as I walked away in search of the others. I hope they have faired well...


[ooc: Eh, I feel that was poor, but w/e.]

Black Fang didn't bother to try and figure out why the Illu'varr it had been fighting suddenly froze in mid attack, but too instant advantage of the paralysis. And showed once again why a Helcorn was nothing to triffle with.

He opened his fanged jaws wide and bellowed forth a rush of Balefire, though in truth if he had thought about it- though thought was never a Helcorn's strong point- he would not have. It was the last attack he ever made.

The Balefire incinerated the Illu'varr warrior mage but allowed the assassinst preset death majics, his Final Strike to come into play, and as the assassin died so did Black Fang, as Orome's cry of pain and denial rang forth.

"NO!!"

"Ware"

And Orome wasw too busy to mourn as she spun up off of her knee to bglock the demons jagged sword on it's first blow. Then she was the wirlwind it'self as she brought her other blade about in a blow too fast for the unaided eye to follow....

The demon's blade had been forced wide by her first parry, and the repost was a viscious cartwheel up slash that opened it from hips to shoulder all the way down to the spine. The following blow by her off hand sword cleaved it from the other side of the torso in a crossing blow, that finished before the flesh had a chance to spill open. Then her reprise took the winged fiends throat, and Orome was stepping away, turning back to here Black Fang had been, but there was nothing now but shadows on the wall.

For a moment her shoulders slumped, then she straightened and the look on her face was frightening.

Powell had solidified himself after freezing the warrior mage. When the death throes it possessed activated, he was launched backwards, slamming into a tree, arms outstretched at perfect right angles, his feet only slightly apart. He fell forwards, leaving an indent in the tree, and slumped to the ground. As he got up, he traced his left hand across his forhead, only to find blood on his fingers.

Closing his eyes, he shut off his last tie to the primordial streams, and used the last of his power to heal his most recent injuries. He staggered back into the stable, only to find it pacified, the Helcorn gone, and his prisoner detonated. He saw a woman, dressed in Illu'varr fashion, neither human nor demon, staring at what had been the Helcorn. "Was he bonded to you?" he asked.

Hatsuri saw the not-horse spit black fire at a demon charring it out of existance, only to fall prey to the demon's final vengence and grinned at mournful wail that departed the lady's throat. The knight and swordsman took care of the two remaining scorpions while the grief-stricken skirt butchered the last of the devil-kin.

The sight of the deep grief would have been like a fine wine to Hatsuri had his mind remained in the state it had been during the conflict. As it was he simply felt a need to confort her and began to cross the distance when his entire right side froze. His leg nor his arm would move nor eye open as at the moment the aspect of the curse triggered for whatever reason, he'd blinked. With a most unusual look on his face, his pace slowed to a partial hobble as he continued toward her.

I brace myself atop my perch, ready with Ultima in hand to meet the next threat that comes my way. I am no longer actively seeking targets to take down now, what with me bleeding my gut out and all. And that is even despite the hot adrenaline that the gallbladder is pouring into my system too; I'm primed for action, but I'm holding myself back lest I aggravate my injury. Goodness knows I've done my fair share of hack 'n slash, after all.

On my perch, I observe the oaf facing the giant scorpions, one of which I had just de-stinged and blinded; he dealt with the crippled one easily enough, but then, to my pleasant surprise, he held his own quite well against the one that was as yet unscratched. In fact, for an armor-laden oaf, he actually moved with a decent agility, and while it was nothing compared to what I was capable of, it was certainly not what I had expected from someone lugging around so much plating on his self. Which could only mean one of two things, or perhaps both; either his armor isn't all it seemed, or he himself isn't all that he seemed. Finally, he managed to leap up onto the scorpion and beheaded it, leaving the two dead scorpions in a cross; I must say, I'm fairly impressed as to the knight's ability. He's no ordinary oaf, that's for sure. While I still think I can take him in a one-for-one, now I know for sure that it wouldn't be a cakewalk either way. He's an experienced enough warrior all right, enough to give me a decent challenge if need be.

I turn my attention to another part of the stables, just in time to catch the yao ma burst forth with a stream of evil fire at the last mage-assassin, which for some reason was not trying to dodge. Which was weird, to say the least, since I know these guys can move helluva fast. What surprised me even more, though, was that the second the fire consumed the assassin, both mage and demon horse went together. And as far as I could tell, there was nothing left of the demon horse; Kaminari's companion let out a mournful wail, but then proceeded to gut the last flying demon like it was nothing when it went for her. She's a great swordswoman, even distracted as she was.

And then.......there was nothing. Everything seemed to be over, as far as I can tell. At least, there were no more demons to cut down; I dropped myself off the rafter I was perching on, flipped smoothly in midair, and land on my feet like the cat that the others must think that I am. There were some times during the past six years of my travels that I travelled with a couple of other people, and they invariably gave me the same nickname; Cat. Or variations of it, Cat-man included. I stand up, putting the blade of Ultima against my shoulder, showing that I'm done with fighting, for now.

I glance sideways at Angsty Boy, noting the spastic way he was moving towards Kaminari's companion, although I dismissed it for the moment. Kaminari's companion, on the other hand, seemed quite distraught. Now, I'm not one who knows very well how to comfort someone, but I figured I should at the very least say something. And so I did.

Or at least, I tried to. For the first step I took, I doubled over with pain, clutching my abdomen where the mage-assassin had dealt me a cruel blow. The rush of the gallbladder was wearing off, and I was feeling cold again. Cold, and in pain. And blood was dripping through my hand in thin, crimson rivulets, and I could feel myself sweating. Unlike other warriors, like the oaf, Sparrowhawks like me wear no armor; it's a necessity for us, since we wouldn't be able to move quite as fast if we wore anything heavier than our robes. Unfortunately, that makes us all the more vulnerable to attack, and while we rely on our speed to protect us, sometimes it just isn't enough. Particularly when we meet up against an enemy as fast as us, which is quite rare, to be honestly speaking.

I drop to my knees, using my blade to support me from keeling over altogether. Damned, this sucked bloody hell.

The others in the stables did not exist as far as I was concerned. Part of me was in complete torment from the ruptureing of my bond with Black Fang.

Part of me was coldly calculating wether to open a portal to the foot of the Blood Throne and see if I could slay the Emperor before his bodyguards could kill me. I still carried the talisman that Rakkan had gifted me with, and such a gate was one of it's abilities.

Slowly I shook my head and let out a deep breath I hadn't know I'd been holding. I stepped over to Black Fangs shadow and touched it gently as it too slowly dissipated. "Good by old friend. Fare ye well and may your next life be grand"

The golden gleam of the Helcorns horn as it lay on on a spill of semi singed straw caught my eye and I leant over and picked it up, blinking back tears. Firmly I dashed them away and placed the horn in my belt pouch.

"Nari...Nari?"

I searched my memory and recalled the bolt of lightning I'd caught out of the corner of my eye. Sighing I produced a small silver bell out of my pouch and rang it briskly.

"Nari, we have a situation. Get yourself back here!" I spoke loudly to the empty air.

(ooc: First time RPing in first person, so here goes)

The lady didn't even seem to notice me. First she toyed with a talisman of sorm sort, then she picked up the Helcorn's horn. Oh well, I didn't give a bother about her really. What I did want to know is just why a third-rate group of demons ambush a party like this. There-in lay a puzzle worthy of the use of cognitive abilites.

Then the lady pulled out a silver and rang it. That tipped me off. She wasn't human, that much was obvious, but she was also traveling with a full spirit, Kitsune or Kami, and I'm puting bets on the former. Dad kept a few around and used such a bell to call them. The lady was obviously intent on her purpose, so I walked right past her to see what else had happened here.

And what a sight it was. Two demonic scorpions lay on top of each other at right angles. There were corpses abound, flame demons, bone demons, and the distinct remnants of two other assassin mages. Illu'varr all. It wasn't that much, but it was disconcerting. Their dickless emperor must have a beef with somebody here. As I try to sense out what had happened here, and where the Illu'varr came from, I can feel another in my presence, still living. And it's coming from where I just stood.

Well, so the woman's half Illu'varr. Why did I miss that? She must have some history with her people to invite this kind of punishment upon her. I turned to the head of an assassin mage. This has potential. I extend my hand, in an attempt to do a read, but I get nothing other than a name and a picture: Orome, and its the lady with the crystal blade. It doesn't help other than tell me a name. These guys did one thing right. I can't trace him the easy, so now I have to do this the hard way. I hate the hard way. "Orome, you mind explaining why a hit squad of Illu'varr would be sent out to kill you with little, if any, discretion on their own part?"

As I moved with away from the cross of scorpions with a little pop in my step, I noticed that the others had finished their battles as well. The ten demons - or at least that is what I discerned, though there might have been more that I did not notice during the fray - had all been bested by this rag-tag band of warriors that had sprung up and been united through a common goal, preservation.

Once again, I had done my job well, defeating three of the monsters that dared threaten this calm town. Err... well maybe two and half; that roguish fellow did lend a hand with one of the scorpions. Quite a fighter I must admit, though now I near him I realize that he has been hurt in the tussle, a gouge in the stomach that has left him in pain. Maybe he should think about wearing armor, but he seems like the kind of guy that will survive such a wound.

But now that I moved towards where the others were gathering, I realized one of the women that started this all was missing... And the other was apparently distraught over something, though she seemed to quickly regain her composure. A true warrior. Strong in the face of agony and despair. However, I did not say anything. I was never really good with comforting those in need other than to tell them to be strong and vow to hunt down the criminal responsible for their plight. Now though, now I just stood stoically with my swordpoint resting on the frim ground between my bracers as I held the large handle at my waist. My wounds were superficial at most and only required a little cleaning later, so I was only concerned whether the others had faired as well. As I stood a few feet away from the woman, now ringing a small silver bell, my armor repaired itself slowly, the holes disappearing, and with them any sign that a battle for life had taken place...

As I stood there, I remembered the feeling of other powerful beings arriving with polar energies. Now one of them appeared nearby, though I could not tell which he was with the blending of senses so close by.

"Orome, you mind explaining why a hit squad of Illu'varr would be sent out to kill you with little, if any, discretion on their own part?"

He seemed to know too much with so little effort. I would keep my eye on him...

"Orome, you mind explaining why a hit squad of Illu'varr would be sent out to kill you with little, if any, discretion on their own part?"


"If you know my name, you know who and what I am. I have as many enemies as I have names" And any one who know of my heritage would know that Orome was only my public name. As niece to the Emperor of NiHongo my house was the highest in the Empire and I had been given a string of names that was...long. As long as my list of enemies.

"They had to have the ear of the Blood Throne and that narrows it down some what." I said meditatively. "Some one of the Blood court, or high in the Sisterhood, for they have a closer bond to the Blood Throne than they publicly admit to.

Indeed the Sisterhood of Staff and Sword was publicly the enemy of the Illu'varr, but that never stopped their covert quest for power.

"However the attack was poorly planned and executed. These were all fifth rate and reckless. Their intellegence was flawed, as was their execution.Save that they managed to strip me of one of my closest protectors,...a friend. Black Fang will not be easily replaced." Bonding with a Helcorn was dangerous business and I had met and bonded with Black Fang through Rakkan's protective auspices. And I would not ask for his assisstance with out dire ned, and I did not consider my circumstances at that level. Though my heart held an empty spot and a huge ache. No mere horse would equal him.

The questioner was too nosey for his own good, but I had more important things on my mind.

"Nari, get your three tailed self back here!" I snapped aloud.

The silver bell drew my attenion back to the physical world as I rested after healing myself in my storm laden domain. Orome must need me badly if she has resorted to catching my attention with the bell. I stood, and with a though created a fresh set of clothing for her. I knew that the demons could not have wounded her sorely if she was ringing the bell, so the fray must be over. Thought also brought about healing supplies, for others had joined in the fight and it would be ill to reward them with naught but words. Then another though produced clothes to replace what they might have lost and I opened the door betwen my realm and the physcial world.

A gust of moisture laden wind and the crackle of distant lightning heralded my arrival, and I was back in the stables. I met Orome's eyes with mine and winced at the carefully guarded pain therein. I could feel the loss of her bond with Black Fang like my own wound. She and I would grieve later, in privacy. She was not the type to wear her sorrow on her sleve.

Her clothes, the only spares she had, had suffered some small depredations from demonic blood - and I could see some red welts raising on her skin. Fortuantely her heritage stopped it from being worse. I tossed her the set I had made for her. "No argueing, we still need to go shopping, but I'll not have you looking like a ragamuffin!" My tart tone stopped her protests unspoken as she caught the clean robes, and the skin of saki.

Saki was the sovereign solution for demonic blood - or at least saki as I created it was.

Then I was looking at the others, assessing thier wounds, and damage to their outfits. "I have bandages, saki and clothes for all who need them.." My voice trailed away as I realised my sparing partner was on his knees, bleeding, and pale. I dropped the supplies on a bale of hay and was at his side in a heartbeat.

I am stronger than I look and soon he was sitting on said bale of hay with my hands gently peeling his hands off his torso so I could see his wounds.

Nari, get your three tailed self back here!

Three tails. That solidified my suspicions, it was a Kitsune that Orome had called to her. Must be a young one though, as they normally grow more tails with age. Well, that's an entirely different matter. Right now I had something else to deal with.

If you know my name, you know who and what I am.

"My apologies for appearring so brash. I have a personal issue with most of your mother's people. Not all. Hereditary disputes I'm afraid." My day was getting better and better. Not only is there an Illu'varr hit squad party going down without my reception of an invitation, but now I've got to deal with a woman blessed by the one person I hate almost as much as dear old Dad: Mom. There is no justice in this existence. And I really am getting slow. I should have been able to recognize Orome anywhere, and now that I think about it, I know I heard something about her Kitsune companion. I have got to to start keeping my eyes open.

I turn to the knight. He at least appears uninjured. The other two look like they could use a rest. "Care to help me dispose of these bodies?"

"My apologies for appearring so brash. I have a personal issue with most of your mother's people. Not all. Hereditary disputes I'm afraid."

I snorted at that as I caught the items tossed to me by the reappeared, and totaly healed Kitsune.

"My mothers people have many enemies. Even if they weren't demons. As a militaristic and aggressive empire, who keep and breed slaves, who practise rituals that would turn most folk's hair white.." I let the litany trail off. We of NiHongo, while mostly human, had an empire alsmost as feared. I began shrugging my acid eaten cothes off.

Body modesty? What body modesty? I am from two cultures where-in communal bathing - or soaking really, is the norm rather than the exception, and the body is celebrated and displayed far more often than abhorred..

My body is worth looking at and if others get upset - well that is their difficulty not mine.

I threw the damaged clothes aside and rinsed well with the saki. Once I'd dried myself on the thick towel that had wrapped the fresh clothes I slipped on the ebon silk skirt that rode low on my hips but swirled wide about my ankles and the heavily embroidered choli (http://dolfinna.com/images/satine_choli_finish2.jpg) of matte noir silk that barely hid my breasts.

Hatsuri had managed to make his way near enought to the lady, easier said than done leg was curled slightly back and the whole half of your body essentially dead-weight, to hear her talking. Resting his useless side against a support beam that wasn't damanged, he asked, "Do you know magic and would you willing to let me study your style, once you are well?"

He'd closed his one open eye as she disrobed, partially out of embarresment, partially because it wasn't proper and partially because if she thought he was perverted she might not consent to let him study under her. He wasn't unfamiliar with the nude female form, thought that had comprised family members bathing and thus didn't count.

"Do you know magic and would you willing to let me study your style, once you are well?"

I looked up, noting that it was the grey clad youth from the Inn. He looked as if he'd taken the brunt of some sort of attack that had left him partially paralyised. I frowned at his state and moved over to examine him more closely.

"I am tutored in the theories, though I can not 'work' the arcane powers, save for those gifted me by my mothers blood..and that is healing."

I reached out and laid my hand upon his chest. As my power reached out and was rebuffed I frowned. "That is strange...no you are not wounded that is the effect of a curse."

I turned to Nari who was tending to the Sparrowhawk. "We need to trade. I need to heal, this one is under a curse. You might be able to lift it.

Need to heal? yes, for I had taken lives and if I did not heal, the painful effects - the imbalance -on me would increase, day by day until I was comatose with pain.

He frowned slightly when she mentioned the curse. He hadn't really expected it to be removed this easily but it was always worth a shot. "Curses actually, a multitude of curses ma'am. I do not know what they do, how long they last, what triggers them and when they cease actively afflicting me I can not even remember what they did." He confessed slightly ruefully.

He didn't think her companion would be able to remove them either as he'd been told by a number of wizards, sorcerers and mages that whoever had laid the mess upon him had been most adept, and powerful. A few had even asked which she-devil he'd pissed off before booting him out in frustration. Unfortunately like most of the stuff pertaining to the curses, he couldn't even remember who it was or if she'd included some out route, like preform a thousand good deeds, rescue twenty princesses or slay eight ferocious monsters to save eight kingdoms.

I had lost quite a bit of blood. And while us Tribesmen, being the born warriors that we are, are accustomed to losing our life's fluid in the heat of battle, still I was leaking an amount enough to make my head go a little woozy. And a little woozy I began to feel, barely managing to keep myself balanced on the tip of my blade, and not keeling over altogether. I've not been used to getting injured for a long time, and so perhaps my reaction could have been a little bit better, but this is what happens when one has been too good for too long. They tend to get complacent, and as tough as the mage-assassin demon was, I'm pretty sure even I had gotten complacent after so many years of easy victories.

"......that Orome was only my public name. As niece to the Emperor of NiHongo......."

Even though the world seemed like it was spinning around me, the name Orome caught my attention, and I fought beyond the haze to try and reconnect with reality once again. That name.......could it be? This was one of the names I had heard so many times during my travels, which would not have been saying much, considering that was also true of several of the warriors I had brought low to the edge of my sword the last six years. But what made this name worthy of mention, was some of the things I had heard about her; specifically, that a warrior princess named as such had travelled the lands of my birth, defeating not a few highly skilled warriors of my Way in the process. And definitely, that was a feat worthy of mention, worthy enough such that my people have given her a title to know her by. While I had been away all this time, the falcons still keep me up to date on the new myths and legends that pop up in the Evergrass Plains every so often, and this was one of the biggest. Never did I thought I would come across her, for she was definitely one that I truly wished to challenge. After all, who wouldn't want to test his own skill against one who is said to be so skilled with a blade, even the Saint of Swords would dearly love to test himself against her? Hyperbole, most likely, but the Tribesmen aren't given to much hyperbole unless the situation truly deserved it. Which meant that this was serious. She could very well be as skilled as they say........and she could very well be the lady standing in front of me.

I stagger to my feet, my vision still a little blurred from the loss of blood, but otherwise, I manage to stand without the aid of my blade, although I could not improve my posture by much due to the pain. And with a coppery taste in my mouth, I manage to utter,

"Orome......Jing Jian Nu Huang.......you are......Orome Heartfyre......the Queen of the Crystal Blade?",

addressing her by the title that the Tribesmen of the Plains have given her for her achievements against the best of their warrior kind.

"Nari, get your three tailed self back here!"

She didn't seem to have heard me, though, and I sink back into dizziness as I felt a strong pair of arms lift me from my position, while I beheld a strangely familiar scent on the one who had lifted me. Unable to think too clearly, nevertheless I manage to recover a large part of my thinking process as the sitting position she had put me in revived my senses somewhat. Only to be surprised at seeing who was the one who had aided me.

Kaminari. How did she survive? I saw that lightning bolt consume her, I murdered the mage-assassin in my wrath for her vengeance. How? In my heavy state of mind, I wasn't quite able to figure out how she had survived, just that......she had. And then, I recalled what the Queen of the Crystal Blade had said.

Nari, get your three-tailed self back here.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place for me. And I realised the lightning bolt for what it was; not a deathstrike on the little minx who had enchanted me with her seductive ways, but magick of her own making. And it certainly explained how she walked on air, how she made clothing out of nothing and turned my coarse tribal robes into silk. And how she's before me now, after apparently disappearing in a flash of lightning. She must have summoned the lightning too. Yes, everything was clicking into place.

"Hu li jing......", I whispered an imprecation in my native language - literally, fox spirit. And such beings, we were taught to be wary against, for while we Tribesmen are more resistant to their wiles than most, yet we know better than to be careless against these forces of nature. For all I know, I could be enthralled by such a fox spirit right now; we know them for not being evil in the purest sense, but rather knowing not right nor wrong - and that was even more dangerous than most realise. I could very well be her slave, and not know it........no, this cannot be! I cannot allow it, on my pride as a Tribesman, on my pride as a Sparrowhawk, on my pride as the Black Panther!

Ultima has not left my hand all this while; now I tighten my grip on it, and even though my body was screaming for healing of the wounds inflicted upon it, my muscles tensed in a near-unnoticable manner, freeing myself for the precipitation of violence in a heartbeat, while giving so little away, only the most trained of eyes would notice it. Another Sparrowhawk technique, to be ready to commit violence without the intended target realising it.

I have to be sure. I have to undergo this test......

"Hu li jing......",

Nari's fox sharp ears caught the whisper and her eyes went sad for a moment, as she ignored the all but imperceptable tensing of the Sparrowhawk's body. Yet another to hate and fear me She thought as for just a moment her shoulders slumped. Then she straightened as Orome called out to her.

"We need to trade. I need to heal, this one is under a curse. You might be able to lift it.

"Yes Orome, let me take a look at him." Nari turned away from the Tribesman and to Orome see the injuries he bore, though she would much have prefered to tend to them herself.

With a backward glance that was indecipherable the Kitsune moved over to the grey clad youth, looking at him not as he was but striving to see him as he should be.

"Oh my this is a thorough going crockery of bakkushan mischief" Nari said softly in her native tongue after a few moments of silent study.

"Orome......Jing Jian Nu Huang.......you are......Orome Heartfyre......the Queen of the Crystal Blade?",

Oh I'd heard it, but I had ignored it, for the last thing I wanted right now was some sort of bedamned duel. The mood I'm in would see the wretch dead in a heartbeat and he didn't deserve it...

or maybe he did for this bit of stupidity ..."Hu li jing......",cursing the one most interested in saving him from his wounds...not too smart this one. Young and arrogant and full of himself. Nari could do far better, and her hurt was easy for me to read in the set of her body. We hadn't spent the last six months travelling together not to know one anothers 'tells' well. And yes I have the preternaturally sharp senses of my mothers race.

The Tribesman never notices the hardening of my features as I am cross to where Nari has set him on some bales of hay.

I was, until I left in disgust, a Voyar of the Sisterhood of Staff and Sword. That high rank is only earned by those of noble birth who are skilled with the blade and who also have the ability to Heal - not just trained in the healing arts but Gifted with the ability to Heal. Voyars are the only ones allowed to roam at will, lesser members of the order live in and work out of the countless Chapter Houses the Order has built every where they are allowed to.

My Healing Donas, my Healing Gift is very potent, but like every thing it has a price, or as I prefer to percieve it, a ballance. If I wound or kill I soon must heal and if I Heal I soon must kill or wound or I pay a painful price. And those I Heal also pay a price as well, for the Healing is accompanied by all the pain and discomfort they would have felt while the wound healed naturally - they feel it all at once, as the Healing occurs all at once.

Maybe that pain will make me forgive the Tribesman for hurting Nari...but then again in the mood I'm in maybe not.

I lay a strong hand on the Sparrowhawk's shoulder and let my Donas loose.

By the ten thousand tiny gods it feels so good to Heal, better than the most perfect lovemaking.

The Plainsman is Healed and I am turning away, uncareing if he has cried out or even passed out from the pain.

Payback is a bitch and so am I.

Hatsuri pivoted to face the lady, opening his eye as he did so. "Thank you for seeing to me ma'am." He said, his speech slightly slurred as it had been since his side had been frozen.

While unable to relax in the conventional sense due to the fact that half his body was locked in place, he did loosen up slightly as he heard her words in the foreign language. They didn't sound like magic or even particularly positive but it could have been.

The pain. The incredible amount of pain. It's unbelievable how painful the Queen of the Crystal Blade's method of Healing was, it was contrary to the common viewpoint of what Healing should entail. Thankfully enough, we Tribesmen are no strangers to pain; what most soft-fleshed decadents would have passed out from, I merely gritted my teeth against the pain she inflicted on me. Was this what they call the cure being worse than the actual malady? Nevertheless, I could feel my flesh literally knitting of itself as she released the full force of her agony on me; it didn't feel good, but it worked. I didn't feel dizzy anymore either, and to be honest, to feel the pain of life was far better than to feel the nausea of bleeding to death. Was I bleeding to death? Don't know, but it sure feels like it.

In a way, I welcomed the pain, for I knew what came with it. And by the time the agony passed me, the Queen of the Crystal Blade had turned her back on me, seemingly unwilling to give any more attention to me. Fair enough. For some reason, she didn't seem all that happy with me; if Kaminari is her companion, then I can fully understand why. Kaminari, too, the look on her face when she realized the full impact of my imprecation could shatter any heart. But mine was set in stone; the Test was a priority for me right now, at this time. I couldn't be soft-hearted. If and when I do pass the Test I had set for myself, when she realizes what I had been doing all along, she would understand. At least, I think she would. She's a hu li jing, after all. They're supposed to be a preternaturally smart lot, even for spirits.

The pain was fading away, and I could feel that my body was at peak condition once more. With both ladies a distance away from me, their backs turned to me, I primed myself. And then, dropping the Ultima for the tool I had intended for just this Test, I made my move.

Before either of them, or really, anyone else in the stables could react, I had launched myself from my sitting position, flying at my target; with impunity, I tackled Kaminari clear off her feet, bowling her over as the both of us went rolling to the floor in a tangled heap. She had practically no chance to resist (or rather, I didn't think she was really trying to), as I rolled atop her, straddling her firmly curvaceous hips as I pulled a tantō - a short dagger - on her, glaring intensely at her.

And there was a tiny speck of blood on the tip of the tantō's blade. Blood drawn from the tiny cut I had made on Kaminari's exposed shoulder while I was tackling her. Yes, I'm afraid I had been, once again, a bit rough with her; my tackle had dislodged the fit of her robes, exposing her creamy shoulders to public view. The cut though, was intentional, as was the blood on my dagger. For it proved one thing to me; for while I knew Kitsune to not be inherently evil, we Tribesmen also know that Fox Spirits tend to do as they like, whenever they liked. And one of the things we feared most was kitsune-tsuki; while the incredibly strong willpower that was a racial trait of our kind helps us resist against the wiles of the Fox, the lore of the Plains have warned us about the dangers of being Possessed. And this was the Tribal Test of Possession I had conducted, more on myself than anything; if a man could not bring himself to draw the blood of the hu li jing in question, he is most definitely Possessed, under the effects of kitsune-tsuki.

And now......I know for sure that Kaminari is of no threat to my person. I need fear her no more. Slowly, I relax my intense glare into her eyes into a relaxed gaze; with my usual grin to show that I mean her harm no more, that all was back to normal as usual, I clean the bloodied tantō with the hay I could pick off the floor from my position, taking my own sweet time to do so.

"I'm not going to apologize for what I did, Kaminari", I say, as I calmly sheathed my tribal dagger back in its mounting. "You, of all beings, should know exactly why I did what I did. No hard feelings, I hope?"

Still, I made no indication that I was going to get off her hips anytime soon. And perverted as it may sound, riding her was.......kind of fun. No doubt, the oaf-knight would be getting into his self-righteous hissy fit any time now, but I could care less. I cast a discerning gaze over her body, even relatively clad as it was, taking my time to savour the sight of her exposed, creamy shoulders. And I winked at her.

"And, if my observation thus far is on the right track, it seems that you have trouble keeping your clothes on. But then again, that's kind of a racial trait for you, isn't it?"

Yes, I'm the one who's actually responsible for that, I know. But hey, if it's true, it's true.

"And, if my observation thus far is on the right track, it seems that you have trouble keeping your clothes on. But then again, that's kind of a racial trait for you, isn't it?"

Before the sentence was fully past his lips Kaminari's left hand was smacking hard enough against the left side of his face to make him see stars.

And even more lethally there ws the edge of a crystal blade shimmering in the wan light that seeped through the from the brilliant sun outside against his neck, pressing in just enough to draw blood.

"Do you want his head Nari?" Oromes voice was clear and cold. I knew my friend would take it with no effort and and equally little hesitation. "Or just his balls?"

Nari pushed the tribesman off of herself, Oromes blade never leaving the position that would allow her to take his life with but a flick of her wrist.

Lithely she sprang to her feet, adjusting her clothes and dusting the dirt and straw of the stable floor off of her. She didn't bother to look at him, Nari'd be just as happy to never see the impudent, arrogant oaf ever again.

"Don't bother fouling your blade with his blood." Nari said softly turning back to studying the unfortuantae recepient of one of the most complex and powerful curses she'd encountered in many years of wandering. "He's but an ass of a idiot, not worthy of you time and efforts."

Turning her back completely on him she spoke softly to the youngester beset with the curse. "It is as complex and multi layered as I have ever seen, or even heard of. You angered some one who is most powerful, perhaps even more powerful than I. I think that I can ease the current effects, but to do more will take careful study and more ritual than I can do at this time. I doubt that Orome " She shot her friend a glance, distracting the half Illu'varr from her musings on wether to kill the Tribesman any way. " Would take you on as a student."

She watched Orome out of the corner of her eye and smiled to herself as she watched her make the decission not to kill.

"I doubt that Orome would take you on as a student."


I nodded in agreement as I stepped away from the ass in human form. I'd fought sparrowhawks before, and while what I had seen of him showed that while he was better than just good, I also knew his fatal weakness. And I wouldn't heistate to use it if we ever fought. He'd hurt my friend with his supersticious foolishness and if he forced the issued I'd gladly kill him.

"No, I don't take students, it's not my path currently, and I practise no one specific style. However should you wish to travel with us for a time, Nari and I usually sparr every evening, and I have nothing against sparring with others."

I watched Nari draw several items from her bottomless pouch and begin her efforts to ease the paralysis currently hindering the young man. His odd change of attitude earlier was almost certainly tied the effects of the curse, and there for forgiveable...as long as it wasn't the personality he spent most of his time being.

Still paying no more attention to than was necessary to the Tribeman I turned to the others, the nosey stranger who radiated power much as the Emperor of the Blood of Illu'varr did, but of a disctinctly different sort and the knight who had thrown himself into the fray against the demons with vigor and a well weilded sword.

"Thank you both for your assistance, and if you lost the steeds you had stabled here I will gladly repay you for your losses. I am Orome Heartfyre Orome Heartfyre of House StarFyre and might I know your names so as to thank you properly?" I belatedly remembered my manner and introduced myself. "And this is Kaminari, an Imperial Historian in service to Inari."

The stalls had mostly remained standing but their occupants had died under the attacks of the demon scorpions.

Had he been in full possession of his faculties, Hatsuri would have been about to turn the man inside out as well. He wondered if she'd take her companion up on the offer only to find out a few seconds later that she wouldn't. Perhaps he'd learn something from that, but most likely not. He didn't seem the type.

"Thank you for examining the problem." He replied, a very faint pang of regret in his voice, as if he hadn't really expected her to be able to. "May I ask why I might be unacceptable, is it because of the curses?"

He was almost positive that the myrid curses were turned inward rather than ever effecting another but he couldn't say for certain. He was fulling willing to accept her decision either way.

His question was answered almost before he'd asked it and nodded his acceptance of it, much to his own surprise as he had to catch himself to avoid falling over. He wasn't sure whether it simply wore off or was the product of sorcery and hadn't been expecting it to happen. "I thank you for permission to journey with you for a time Orome, and you as well Kaminari for you ministrations."

I saw without watching as Orome changed her outfit. I didn't really care, guess it's not in me to do so. Living in this world has been different and perception altering, but I still don't get stiff around naked women.

I saw the Sparrowhawk crouch, launch, and tackle the Kitsune. Brash and uneeded, had he just asked, I could have told him that the only power he's under is that of love. Or lust. I still can't tell the difference. Point is, he just drew blood from a fox spirit. I won't get in the way of this. Sure, I probably could step in, but I won't. And as I watch, I see her wisdom.

But right now, I have a more pressing problem. None of the working entrances are currently large enough for me to easily remove the scorpions. Leaving them without proper disposal is an invitation for a malady of some sort, and proper disposal is going to mean the destruction of this stable if I do it here. And the stable entrance, the only opening I feel is big enough, is very close to collapsing, being held up only by the rubble supporting it. Decisions, decisions.

Might I know your names so as to thank you properly?

"You may call me Apostle, or Powell, in my tongue, they mean the same. Keep your sword off the kid, it's a Test that the plainsmen use, primitive, barbaric, but now utterly harmless. Though I agree, taking his gonads would be beneficial.

"And no, I didn't lose a steed, I was investigating another matter entirely when the flares of magic brought me here. Now, I'm just interested in disposing of these bodies, afterwards, I go where my path leads me. If it be with you, so be it, but I pursue different game this day." I look at the walls with a mason's eye. The hole through which I entered is rather large, and the wall isn't in too bad shape. If anything, expanding that hole would be my best bet.

"I apologize for the loss of your steed, but know that he's probably quite happy with his death, most Helcorns don't get to go out in blood and vinegar. I need to get these bodies out. Could that wall stand to have the hole increased in size without it falling on our heads?"

I need to get these bodies out. Could that wall stand to have the hole increased in size without it falling on our heads?"

I looked about surveying the remains of the stables. As for his comments about The Tribeman's actions? I had known full well what he had been about, but it didn't matter - he'd harmed if not the body then the feelings of my friend. And that gained him naught but my emnity, and made him some one who'd I'd not willingly associate with.

I had the basic education in architecture and structures, my family believed in a most thorough education, but I had been more interested in the capabilities of fortifications, not stables.

"It might well Powell, and my deepest thanks to you." I graced him with a half bow. "The bodies should begin dissolving soon enough though should we douse them with Nari's saki now that they are dead." I picked up the large skin, still almost full from my modest needs.

I dropped my voice so that only Orome, and probably Nari, could hear. "I know your friend is a Kitsune. If that is her Saki, then this makes my job a lot easier." The skin that Orome held was magical. Probably an unstable space enchantment. Held more than seemed possible. "Here, I'll pour. Talk to your friend. If you want, I will happily make the offensive idiot sterile, impotent, and weak without his knowledge."

It was a trick that I had learned a half-century after I was born. The human body requires certain things to be kept in acceptable ranges, as it is very, very fragile. Hormone balance is one of these. I simple switch, deactivation of certain receptor sites, and in a month a person goes from prime to primitive. Quite funny from my perspective.

"Care to help me dispose of these bodies?"

I paused momentarily, still standing guard as the two ladies dealt with the two gentlemen I had been wary of earlier and who had brought me into this conflict. They seemed to be dealing fine with the injured men and this fellow next to me was the one I was keeping my eye on now, so I decided to agree... someone would have to do it. "Yeah... And afterwards I need to track down the stable hand to repay him for the damages we caused," I replied politely as I turned towards the strange man.

Lucky for me just as I turned, one of the fair ladies decided to undress and replace her clothing with something her strange friend had produced. I used the gentleman next to me as an excuse to keep my attention diverted and my eyes away as she once again covered herself up. What strange behavior I remarked to myself as I just realized she had willingly revealed her body in public to a group of unfamiliar men. But then again, her companion was equally unique... I could have sworn she just reappeared out of midair.

The roguish fellow said a few words, apparently some great realization just hit him. Did he know something about these ladies that I did not? Either way, his next action took me completely by surprise. After Orome - that is what the man called her a moment ago and she responded to - had used some mystical power of hers to heal him, the rogue leapt through the air and onto the lady's companion. What the hell was he doing? They had just been fighting on the same side and then they healed him! He even had the gall to hold a dagger to her, dripping with her own blood! Needless to say I had gauntlet to sword (my backup sword, much lighter and easier to maneuver) and blade halfway removed from its sheath, but the ever surprising Orome was even faster. She put her blade to the man and seemed to be debating whether or not to slay him where he sat. To my relief, they seemed to be in control of the situation and soon the lady pushed him off and stood... continuing about her business with the strange younger fellow. Cursed? She said something about him being cursed.

All of a sudden I felt so out of the loop. Even the gentleman next to me - he had just revealed his name to be Powell - seemed to know more than me, though peculiarly, he knew a lot more than some of the others too. However, it seemed Orome trusted him and I was in turn learning to trust this lady's wisdom and intuition. Well, you know what they say about a woman's intuition...

A conversation passed between a bunch of them about different things: curses, training, following, the rogue, and some more. I just stood there stoically. Most of this did not seem to be my business, nor did I have much to contribute. But then, the lady addressed me...

Might I know your names so as to thank you properly?

"M'lady," I said as I kneeled on one knee and bowed my head slightly, "I am Lord Sebastian, at your service..." After presenting myself I stood and assured her that there was no need to replace my horse; I was more than capable of doing so and the steed I had previously had (before one of the demons cut it down) was worn beyond travel.

More information was revealed to me about the two ladies, "And this is Kaminari, an Imperial Historian in service to Inari.". I did not know of this Inari, or of what skills Kaminari was, but she did seem quite helpful and the two seemed to be friends.

In my silence, I might appear stupid, ignorant, or foolish to others (like the rogue), but I simply follow a different doctrine than them. I listen intently, taking in all of the information I can and piecing it together in the depths of my mind. Unlike the rogue, who seems brash and obtrusive, I prefer to stay silent. I simply adhere to the saying of a wise old man, "Tis better the world think you a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

I am Lord Sebastian, at your service..."

"Please do not kneel. Mayhaps if we were at formal court, and wishing to anger my uncle beyond bearing. " I found myself giving the quiet knight a wry smile. He, by his accent was from one of the more distant kindgoms of Vanaheim, one that I couldn't quiet place, but he had obviously had gentleman's upbringing.

I had noticed his reactions to my disrobing, and I sought to set him at ease "In my homeland, both women and men soak together, take the field of battle together and more. I didn't mean to distress you and not meaning to distress you further - most around these parts aren't terribly body tabooed either. You might want to just accept it and not let your upset be visable. There are those who would claim offense and challenge you because they feel they can best you."

Dueling was a popular sport and could privide one with a hefty income if one were good enough I explained further.

Hatsuri looked at Kaminari and Orome and asked, "Is there anything I may for do you either of you?" As he asked, he began feeling for the holes that had been burned into clothing. The cloth it was made from would slowly self-repair a rip but typically needed some aid with larger holes.

He also took in the others, the knight was interesting. He personally didn't hold with large suits of armour but a part of his extended family would love a chance to get to know him better.

I took the skin and began pouring the saki over the bodies. As I did, they dissolved into a black ash, and then that too dissappearred. Stuff worked. I returned the skin as Orome was talking with Sebastian, handing it over with a half-bow in return.

Then I turned to the knight. "A pleasure to meet you Lord Sebastian. I was able to view some of your swordmanship, and I must say it is quite impressive. My condolences for your lost steed." I looked around at the damage. "Quite a party you all had."

"I apologize and ask your forgiveness," I said as I took in what she said about the culture around here. More information that was vital to my survival in foreign parts. "I will do my best to accept your ways," I added though I knew I would still feel intrusive should something similar happen again. However, I would not show my concern visibly nor make to divert my eyes obviously... I would just have to be clever about it.

I would respect their ways, but I would also maintain my respectful ways. I would follow my code always.

"This seems to be quite a merry band that has gathered here..." I commented as I looked around at everyone: the rogue, Kaminari, Orome, the strange man who just appeared, the young gentleman...

"Is there anything I may for do you either of you?"

"Not that I can think of at the moment, though I don't think I caught your name" I replied pleasantly.

I apologize and ask your forgiveness,"

"None needed Lord Sebastain."

"Quite a party you all had."

" A most unexpected one. " I replied wryly as I shook my head and looked about the stables once again.

"Can I buy us all lunch? I have a bit of an appetite now." My glance about took in every one but the Tribesman, and yes, that was most deliberate.

Nari packed away her ritual items and gave Hatsuri a doubtful look. "I think I may have had some effect, but I am unsure if it was all my efforts, or this particular aspect of your curse simply faded." She smiled at him.

"Please do come have lunch with us, though I certainly won't burden you with coming shopping with us later." She echoed Oromes offer and moving over to where she had laid the garmets she had created she offered one to Lord Sebastain and one to Hatsuri. "To replace those that the battle damanged. They should fit, they are of my creation." She said proudly but without arrogance. She loved making clothes, designing them in her mind and seeing them become real.

"None needed Lord Sebastain."

"Please," I nearly interrupted, though waiting for her to finish. "Just Sebastian. Though I introduce my self as such, it is merely because I feel Sebastian would be too short on its own," I said, cracking a smile for the first time. It was true though. Saying, 'Sebastian, at your service,' sounded too short, so it was either Lord Sebastian or Sebastian the Lionhearted. I had always gone with the former as I felt it was less narcissistic. But then again, I am sure someone could just as easily become upset with my beginning 'Lord' as ending 'the Lionhearted,' so I do not trifle with the matter too much.

"Can I buy us all lunch? I have a bit of an appetite now."

"Nay, I cannot." These two had worked hard in the recent events... fighting, healing... and dealing with that rogue. "I must protest. I will be the one buying, and I shall have it no other way." My words were my word. I would not let her pay even if it required me to be subtle in my subterfuge of the tab.

The one who Orome had identified as Kaminari moved towards a pair of garments she had brought with her from wherever it was she had gone and reappeared from. A skilled being I admired.

"To replace those that the battle damaged. They should fit, they are of my creation."

I could not refuse a gift she had already worked on. Had she offered to purchase new ones, I would have kindly refused, but she had already put the effort forth and she seemed proud of her work. "I thank you kindly, Lady Kaminari." These two were very pleasant and selfless, constantly offering their help. First they heal and attempt to remove a curse from one who was mysteriously following them and another who had been so disrespectful. And now they offer us clothes and lunch... well, the lunch I would be paying for. "Shall we?"

"My name is Hatsuri Hiragana ma'am." He replied with a partial bow. "It would be most enjoyable to share a meal with you, but I can not tax your purse strings in such a manner. I have oft been liken to an abyss by my kin."

He returned the smile that Kaminari gave him, "Thank you for your efforts. I would, should you permit it, be honoured to accompany both of you when you go shopping." He offered as he was use to shopping with his sisters and cousins and could not see how this might be different.

He took the offered cloak and drapping it over his shoulders, further enwrapping himself. "I thank you for the gift." It was not needed but it would be crass to simply refuse it.

I listened to Orome's offer of food, and Sebastian's intent on paying for it. I observe as Nari hands out clothing to the knight and the cursed youth. All the while I'm busy thinking about Worfan. That lich is going to do something, and it won't be good. A creature of hiscaliber is bad enough as is, and I am not going to stand for anyincrease in his power. Well, I can't think on an empty stomach, so what the hell, food now, thinking later.

"I'd be happy to take either of you up on your offer for food," I said to both Sebastian and Orome. "Though if given the choice, I'd prefer that the richer of the two pay, or I pay. I have access to wealth beyond imagination." This is true. While I only have a couple of coins with me at any time, those coins are there for me to do a quick replication trick, essentially providing me with access to a money mint. Yet for whatever reason, wealth and material possessions have little importance to me. There have been a few others kicked out of Heaven before, but I'm the first god to put that on my list of accomplishments. I don't have a guide, story, or legend to fall back on, making me a blind man without a cane.

"So, who shall pay?"

A town crier happened by, providing one and all a reasonable way out of any delima of who paying for luncheon.

Come one come all be welcome to the midday feast soon to be set forth in the Great Plaza! Come One, Come All ! By the bountiful grace of his most Serene Highness Prince Antonio of Orlando Come One Come All!

Orome laughed as the crier's voice faded as he rounded a corner. "That solves the problem of just who should pay. Let us head that way and feast on the grace of Antonio."

"That sounds most fortuitous." Hatsuri commented as he heard the town crier cry. "Should we go to his Highness's banquet then ma'am?"

As he asked, he stood and cricked his neck slightly. He made a split-second decision and offered Orome his arm in an entirely, and solely, gentlemanly manner.

"Just a second," I said. "I need to change my outfit." I slammed my left fist into my right palm, sending shockwaves from my hands up my arms, and then meeting at my neck as it traversed down my body. As my robe and undershirt moved out, a deep brown turned pale from the exertions previous and the cloud of dust I raised, the threads thickened and darkened, becoming a thick black silk, sequentally affecting my garments all the way down to my pants and shoes.

The design was one of my own making, a single open eye over my left pectoral, and an ornate "P" over my right pectoral. The soles of my footware, now slippers for their make, were leather. Hey, if I was going to go to a prince's feast, then at least I would look the part of a well dressed and respectable member of society, even if the public didn't know who I was. Sometimes, the best way to blend in was to stand out, and the best way to stand out was to blend in.

"Shall we?" I asked, noting the youth's courtesy. I momentarily wondered whether Orome would accept his arm, and if I should offer mine to Kaminari.

Sorry to interrupt.

Please do remember that the most graphic you may get on this site is NOT an R, but a PG-13.

Thank you.

That sounded like an excellent plan and perfect solution to everyone's offer of paying... a meal courtesy of the Crown Prince of Orlando. Obviously this man knew how to please the people, hopefully in the future though he could please them with other things than a free meal. But for now, I would not worry about such matters. "Aye, it sounds like a splendid plan. We can converse and fill our appetites."

I made a mental reminder to stop off at the inn with the silver cup on its sign and deliver the coins I promised to the stable hand. Unfortunately, with the arrival of the demons, the damage done had been far worse than I had originally expected. No mind though, now that my meal would be free, the replacement would be a slightly lesser burden, not that I concerned myself with such things. As I set aside a few coins, enough I estimated to repair the damage and make up for lost business in the meantime, my eye caught the young lad offering his arm to Orome and the strange gentleman debating whether to do the same for her companion, Kaminari. Probably just a courtesy, but nevertheless I would keep my eye on them both... not that the two ladies seemed to need any help in defending themselves, but when someone was so close their attack or movement was all that much harder to prevent. In order to watch, I would walk behind the four and hope that the rogue would not follow; this way I could also duck into the inn and repay the kind stable hand without them making a fuss over it.

"Time to set off..."


[ooc: I assume we have done nothing thus far that would warrant an R rating.]

"Time to set off..."

"Yes especially if we wish to get good seats." Orome replied and she took the arm that Hatsuri had offered. Such protocol was not common in her homeland but she had travelled far and wide and had encountered it in may societies.

She didn't blink as Powell chaned his attire throught an impressive display of Arcania, that was something overwhelingly common in Illu'varr society.

"The grand plaza is this way" I directed Hatsuri in the proper direction. It would be a good ten minute walk but the day was just warm, not hot and a pleasant breeze was blowing lightly.

I noticed Nari casting a look back at the Tribesman, but said nothing,

I fished out two black leather gloves from the pocket of my robe, and slid them on before finally offering my arm to Kaminari. Of only to make sure that the stupid idiot from the plains didn't try anything drastic that could annoy me. I wondered briefly about the food that would be offered, before realizing that as a city of trade, Orlando didn't have its own food so much as it had assimmilated everybody else's.

Of course, there was the problem of the knight staring down my back. Talk about superstitious people. I would have to see about locking that guy up in a personal dimension, but decided against that. It was bad form, a quagmire of parameters were required, not to mention the sheer energy drain. No thanks, I'll just talk to him at some point and hopefully bust him out of his comfortable view on life. "So," I whispered extremely quietly to the Kitsune, more the mental communication between spirits given physical form as wind, "Just how old a Kitsune are you?"

Hatsuri let Orome lead, in much the same way a dancer unfamiliar with a certain dance would let a more competent partner subtly guide the dance. He did blink slightly at the almost ostentatious display from the man.

"Thank you." He replied to her indication of direction as they began walking in the comfortable weather. "May I ask how you came to this city?"

I followed behind the other four people in the group with Orome leading the way; just a few steps, nothing too odd or out of place. Idle chatter began as the young lad asked the lady on his arm, Orome, how she came to this city. Hopefully she would reveal her answer as I would absorb the information into my storehouse of data. No doubt in time everyone would be sharing why they were hear and what they sought for the future... there would be plenty of time for that over our meal at the feast.

As we continued to walk, I noticed the inn I, and apparently a couple of the others, had stayed at the previous night; it was the one with the silver cup on its wooden sign. But more importantly, it was the one I had told the stable hand to take cover in as the rogue and Kaminari fought in the stables... not that I knew demons would attack. It seemed better that I not tell him about that greater incident either - just let him think that the two were wild warriors or otherwise he might be to frightened to go back. Besides, there was no need to stir up anxiety over demon attacks on the eve of a royal wedding.

Without a word, I disappeared from the street and through the wooden door frame of the establishment. After a quick glance around, taking in my surroundings and its occupants, I noticed the man in question sitting at the bar with a drink. No doubt he was recounting how a band of warriors had invaded his stable and took up a fight. The couple men around him would think he exaggerating their skills, but he knew what he saw in the few brief seconds before that cloaked fellow hurried him off. I pulled my cloak tight around my frame, not that the stable hand would recognize me. I am sure he was too busy paying attention to the combatants then to take notice of me. Besides, I was wearing a different cloak now; the one Kaminari had graciously provided me. In fact, nobody seemed to notice me as I slid closer to the stable hand and dropped the pouch of coins into his pocket. And without them ever knowing I was there, I disappeared out the door of the humble establishment and back onto the street.

The whole thing had only taken a couple of seconds and my party had only made it a very short distance down the road, even at the brisk stroll they were. I quickened my pace and soon caught up with them. Perhaps one of them noticed my short disappearance, but it would be no matter. At this point there would be no debate over the matter of repaying the stable hand... I had already taken care of it and certainly would not accept a reimbursement.

Nari had looked back over her shoulder towards the Tribesman but he didn't meet her eyes as the others left the stables. Sighing inwardly, and still hurt from his accuastion that she was like, or no better than a wild, honourless Kitsune who had been thrown out of the Celestial Realms, she turned back to the one who'd offered to escort her. Gracefully she took his arm with a soft smile.

Just how old a Kitsune are you?"

"I've been travelling and recording as commanded... oh for almost seven hundred years now. So I'm just under eight hundred years old as human see time. When I was in Inari's Realm such things didn't matter but you know how humans are." Nari glanced at him as she made her equally soft reply. She wasn't quiet sure exactly what he was but there was a definite whiff of pure power about him.

"why are you here?" She asked in return.

"May I ask how you came to this city?"

"Chased by a band of demons disguised as briggands" I replied lightly "thou we were headed her anyway, to check out a rumor." My reply was polite but I tried to indicate that what rumor we might be concerned with was private, personal business. "Orland is much of a crossroads for many things. Though to find a Hellcorn I'll be heading back out on tothe plains shortly. Having a Hellcorn just ruins one for any mere horse as a mount." I shrugged, the pain flareing afresh in my heart. None could take Black Fangs place, any bond would be new and different, unique.

"Ah, here we are" I said as we made the last turn that would take us into the Grand Plaza. The Silver Goblet ws in the top tier of Silver Inns and was thusly close to the center of the city.

The Grand Plaza spread out before us, gay with flower garlands, bright flags and the appetising smells of finely cooked food. Antonio knew how to throw a feast.

"There is an an entire high table open" I noted as I headed us for the section 'above the salt', naturally. I bore enough of my I'llu'var heritage in my appearance that no one moved to stop us. The Empire across the river was too dangerous to potentially insult any Illu'varr.

The five of us laid claim to the entire table for the moment, though it was large enough for eight and soon servitors were swirling about asking our preferences in food and drink.

"Demons?" He commented as he wondered if they were of the kind that they'd recently faced. He heard the slight inflection that seemed to ask that he not persue it further and did not. He noticed they were heading to what appeared to be the section reserved for the nobility. He slowed somewhat in an attempt to re-direct Orome into the area for the citizenry but found it to be futile.

After pulling the chair out for her, he took his own seat. He was feeling distinctly uncomfortable with being served. After Orome ordered her fair, he ordered a simple meal with water.

"Why are you here?"

"Short term, I was passing through, and Orlando is a rich enough trade city that rumors can be found in abundance. I found one, of a sort, to my liking, and I'm now engaged in hunting an 8,000 yar old lich named Worfan, whom also happens to be an arch-magius of necromancy in one of the arcane circles.

"Long term, I'm trying to find a way to regain my deityhood. My father is Gryfywrd, the Arch-Mage of the Divine Pantheon, and my mother is Kai'iel, though I don't take after her much. I know who Orome is, but I'm a mage, pure and simple. Remember about six years back when that tidal wave struck the Illu'varr coast and the government kept it rather hushed, as if nothing was there? That was me, wiping out a couple of raiding parties that had gathered for purposes of redrawing territory and exchanging slaves. The slaves I swept to an island, but dad was so furious that he kicked me out of heaven. I'm the first god to get that on his personal history. And I'm just over two hundred according to human years, I think, but like you said, our nature doesn't measure the flow of time." I followed Orome as she walked up to the table, and noted that the servers poked each other to make sure that the others weren't going to stop our group from eating here. Smart choice.

It seemed as though the others did not notice, or maybe care, that I had disappeared for a few seconds to repay the stable hand for the damage we and the demons had caused to his place of work. Now however, we had arrived at the broadcasted feast and I am sure the battle had stirred most of our appetites to be filled with such a banquet. A few quick glances over my shoulder had told me that the rogue had not dared to follow us, but truthfully I had not looked hard nor in every place... he may well have eluded my vision.

I, as well as everybody else in our party, followed Orome through the crowd of people and tables and directly up to a table raised on a low platform. Perhaps Orome was used to getting what she wanted or maybe the guards and servers knew more than I, but either way they did not attempt to stop or intercept us. Without any trouble, we found an empty table capable of seating our party and then some.

Orome took her seat, graciously provided by the young lad, at the left end of the table on the side, and the boy took a seat next to her. Next the would-be-deity - or so he claimed, though I obviously refute that and believe it to be rubbish - known as Powell sat down on the adjoining side so that he was sitting perpendicular to Orome and the young lad. Kaminari sat next to the gentleman, though I was wondering to believe whether he was just not full of it... stories in attempt to allure the fairer sex. And finally I sat next to the 'magical' one, so that I was between our party and the three empty chairs remaining. As the servers asked us for our choice, I replied in a kind manner that I would like a spot of bread, a brew of ale, and a chunky cut of meat. The server nodded and dispersed as I turned back to the others and listened in on the conversation...

Worfan awoke from his dark slumber on the side of the road. The mighty Arch Magius of Necromancy had come to a new low. He had resorted to lying on the side of the road disguised as a pile of humanoid bones. This was possible to keep such a form thanks to his cloak of Illusion's rather interesting powers.

The various travelers journeying along the road had taken note and figured some wild beasts or monsters were lurking around and avoided Worfan's sleep. The evil lich had been weakened in his fight with the fledging divine entity known as Powell. It had taken a tremendous amount of energy to use the spell he had cast and that was not something he would very often. That spell was mostly used when he was trying to kill a lot of people or really annoying pests.

The Lich had finally decided to get to work and renew his quest to find the headband of Intellect. The fabled artifact that would greatly increase his own arcane powers once it was under Worfan's possession. The lich using his the command of his own power wielded his cloak and took the form of a young wizard of the necromancer path from Hansia.


This was an illusion used to confuse people that had already seen Worfan's first image. The lich hoped to use this form until he could get the artifact and return back to his beloved land of Kirator. Worfan continued on his journey heading towards the city of Orlando this time with the goal of eliminating the upstart Powell. The only threat to his mission in this foreign continent…

I ordered a cooked fish with a salad and some wine to accompany it, then turned to Sebastian. "So, my good lord, I had been meaning to ask you this, but whom is your allegiance pledged to? That person must be wise to retain the services of yourself, or are you pledged to one of the Orders?"

"So, my good lord, I had been meaning to ask you this, but whom is your allegiance pledged to? That person must be wise to retain the services of yourself, or are you pledged to one of the Orders?"

Powell, the strange and seemingly powerful being, had turned to me after ordering his meal and asked me a question. I am not sure if I was surprised that he asked as most people who I travel with do at some point become curious, but maybe I was as I had thus witnessed his omniscience. However, the very question he asked me was the one I never answered.

Despite my Order's prowess and accomplishments, it had managed to maintain a low profile and its name kept from the taverns of the world where word of mouth was the deadliest sword. What good was a secret order if its name and members were well known? Thus I would never reveal the name or anything else about it.

Although, now that I think about his question, it wasn't as specific as I thought it to be. I answered it with a quick word that gave nothing but was indeed a response, "My allegiance is to the world that bore me and my Order is that of chivalry." Quick, concise, and true to the word.

Well, the knight is bound to one of the secret orders, I'll find that out later. Orome I know about, and Kaminari has introduced herself. That only leaves Hatsuri, the cursed-boy. "You must be a knight of both prowess and discretion, then, Sebastian. A valuable combination indeed.

"You say you have no memory of your curse, eh Hatsuri? Has anybody ever told you of yourself after your curse has affected you?"

"Yes they have, and it does not help. People have told me of it, and acted it out and it does not remain in my memory. I can not read it if it is written down, as any paper that bears information on it appears as if it were blank." He replied simply to the strange man.

I took off my gloves. "Let me see your hands." This would tell me much about him. "I can at least see what is going on inside you, and maybe undo one or two of the enchantments upon you."

"I must respectfully decline. I can not at present permit you to look at my bare hands." He replied politely but firmly. He did not entirely recall it but Hatsuri knew he had slain and until he'd underwent the Shar ritual cleansing, his hands had to remain enclothed . "If you can conduct your examination without bare hands then I would welcome the attempt." He added as he held out his hands in gloves that had unusual protective seals on them, seals designed to bind.

"Hands are most unobtrusive, but if you will let me, your forehead works best. It really only needs to be bare skin." I saw the seals on the gloves. I recalled, but couldn't place their names or their use. Trouble with mortality. Things get muddled in the process.

"Then you may try, thought I must warn that you may not like what you find." He replied

I put my hands on his forhead, using my arts to identify the enchantments upon him. He was right, it wasn't pretty, but at least I learned exactly what had been done to him. "You're nothing you weren't before," I sad as pulled my hands away and re-gloved them.

"Your behavior patterns have been split. That's not the curse. But the curse has affected that in some way. Mostly it's an offshoot of one of the major features, that being your amnesia. Because of that, I can't tell what the rest of the curse does. To me, it is as though I am looking at a solid wall, with the secret on the other side. At this point, I can't do anything about it. In fact, I don't think there is anything that I can do. I am sorry."

"Thank you for the attempt." He replied as he knew of his other side, in a vague way, and was almost certain that the curse hadn't affected it in any serious way. "Do not worry about it, I have yet to find one who has been able to figure it out."

Nari nodded in understanding at Powell's reply. The Gods were capricious, that she well knew. She was a prime example of that. The Divine Emperor had ordered her to go forth and make an accounting of the lower realm. Then he'd forgotten about her very existance. And until one of his sucessors remembered and allowed her to return she was bound by her giri to remain here.

She sighed inwardly. She missed the Celestial Realm so much.

But she gave her self a slight shake and smiled at Sebastain as he sat next to her. She liked the way he had evaded Powell's prying. While Powell was 'looking' at Hatsuri she murmured to Sebastain, once he had given his order and hers had been taken as well.

"Perhaps I could record your history and that of your Order, so that down through the ages those that come after know of your prowess."

I gave my order to a servant and then relaxed back, half listening to Powell pry at Sebastian, and prognosticate over Hatsuri. The other half, was as ever taking in everything else around me.

The demons that had atacked us out on the Plains were not the prequell to this latest assassination attempt. They were 'escapees', low level demons that had managed to escape their summoners and were not intellegent enough, or powerful enough, to make to more of a life than that of minor briggandage. Such roving bands were common out on the Plains, but such a large one was unusual.

I shrugged to myself and turned my thoughts to what lay ahead. I wanted, and needed another Bond, and other than with in Illu'varr, that was the nearest place to find Hellcorns. Tomorow would see me heading back out the way I'd come in.

"Perhaps I could record your history and that of your Order, so that down through the ages those that come after know of your prowess."

The magical one called Kaminari seemed to whisper to me as the others were distracted. A kind offer, once again showing their philanthropy, but one that I will deny.

"I am sorry M'lady, but as to your kind offer... I must refuse," I said as I leaned in close so the others could not hear. "My Order and I do not need the future generations of men that should inhabit this world to know of our prowess or deeds. I would be no happier than should my name disappear into the vastness of time. So long as I know we have made a difference in this time... I will be happy."

So long as I know we have made a difference in this time... I will be happy."

Nari cocked her head at him, arching an eyebrow." That is a most...unusual philosophy. Most seem to hunger to be remembered, to become the focus of a scholars mention...or a bardss song." With a fan pulled from the wide sleeve of her kimono, she indicated the strolling minstrel currently within earshot - unfortaultely for them all as he was butchering with both poor playing, and even poorer singing, a currently popular ballad about a fallen warlord.

His caterwalling was interupted when, two tables over, and closer to the royal dias, one young local nobleman took exception to him and dumped a carafe of wine over his head.

"That is a most...unusual philosophy. Most seem to hunger to be remembered, to become the focus of a scholars mention...or a bardss song."

"Perhaps," I responded agreeably. "But that has never been important to the ones I call my family." Besides, what is good about having a secret society that people know about... even if it is in future generations - I can only hope my Order will still be around then and thus must remain a secret.

I continued after taking a sip out of the goblet in front of me, "I believe that if one does good in order to be noted for it, his motives are dishonorable. Motive can be just as important as the end result sometimes."

I noticed Kaminari direct my eyesight from her to a bard singing nearby... something about a champion knight defeating a dragon by himself while so many others had failed. If that wasn't bad enough, some gentleman - though I take pause when calling him that - decided it a good idea to douse the fellow in wine. If I knew no trouble would be stirred up, I would have been out of my seat in a heartbeat... but alas, this was a royal affair and thus order must be kept. "A shame..."

I winced when I first heard the bard. "That is a magic powerful enough to drive any person alive to the point of insanity." I sat back and began turning over my thoughts in my head. Worfan had eluded me, that wasn't such a big deal, since I had gotten a feel for his signature.

Every spell has a distinct mark characteristic of the caster, much like a person's penmanship. I had gotten a glimpse of Worfan's signature, but I would need another, longer, and more proactive fight if I was to be able to pin him down from now on. In my current condition, I was in no shape to do such a thing. Physically I was fine, ready, and alert, but my spirit was growing sluggard in my bones. I would need a rest in the streams, but that could be postponed until I had either departed from the others or we all located another inn, unlikely given the current status of the city.

"So, Sebastian, what do you consider morally righteous motives?"

"So, Sebastian, what do you consider morally righteous motives?"

I turned from the lady to the odd gentleman aside her who asked me a question as to morality. "Ah well... I would say if your action was not due to its possible benefit for yourself, it is righteous. Such as helping a friend to see him happy or giving food to save someone from starvation."

Although it was not necessary, I added a little bit, "Nothing too high and mighty like in the name of God... though that can be acceptable in certain circumstances."

I wasn't one to normally voice my philosophies or have them be questioned out of me, but I suppose it helps me to flesh them out... find the truth in this dazzling world.

"Nothing too high and mighty like in the name of God... though that can be acceptable in certain circumstances."

I was not going to make comments about the nobility of certain sprigs who thought it funny to dump a pot of wine over an entertainer, no matter how poor his performance, so I bit my tongue hard and resolutely turned my attention towards the conversation the rest of my chance met companions were having.

"You speak of no benefit to your self. But does not your friends happiness make you happy, therefore benefiting yourself." I asked the Sebastain and turned to Powell letting him have the second quandry...

"And which morals are you going by? In Illu'varr it is not only legal to own slaves, but a cultural, societal norm to do so. In Hillendowne" I named a small city state that lay to the far north "It is the proper, therefore 'moral' thing to do to marry your eldest daughter if she is still unwed by the time she is twenty three years of age."

I could see Nari stiffling a giggle. She learned quickly that I enjoyed playing 'devils advocate', and puncturing the pompous. Which Powell was beginning to make sounds similar too being.

Ow. Being a rogue who's made flouting propriety a way of life, I have had my fair share of slaps from some of the more prudish of womenfolk, and I've taken them all in my stride. Can't make everybody happy after all, and I don't bother to try, since it's not even my main priority. Kaminari's though, that one did surprise me, since I wasn't even trying to be offensive. And that's one lady who can slap real hard; I reeled back, a little disorientated for the moment. Which was quite enough distraction to have the Queen of Blades, well.......put her blade to my neck.

Well, that's why women are women. No man can ever understand just what can trigger them off. Me neither, not even after I've bedded so many ladies from so many lands. That's why I live like I did, incidentally; one night stands are so much less troublesome. No need to deal with the ever-changing moods of a specimen of the fairer sex, just get it over with and leave. Just like this case now, when the both of them are getting so pissy over what I had just said. And seriously, if they're half as wise as I thought they would be, they would have known that what I said wasn't without precedence, wouldn't they? We Tribesmen respect Kitsune for their powers, but it's no secret that hu li jing don't exactly have the best reputations whenever they appeared in the myths and legends of our kinsfolk. To my point of view, can I really be blamed for making sure I wasn't under some kind of spell? I don't even know if Kaminari was one of the more honourable ones of her kind - perhaps I should have trusted her a bit more, but considering the overwhelming feelings I had for her in our initial encounter, it was just good form for me to be wary even of myself.

"My, my, talk about over-reacting......."

I mumble to myself, sitting up and calmly lighting a smoke, even with Orome's bladetip pointed squarely at my throat. She may have me in an unenviable position right now, that was true, and I can tell from her look that she's considering whether to kill me for my perceived insult on Kaminari. Probably she's confident enough in her skill to skewer me at will, but then again, I'm not such easy prey. The split second she decides I can be done away with, I'll know, and I'm confident in my ability to react fast enough, faster than even the Queen of Blades could realize. Thus, I sat there unafraid of her blade, calmly taking another puff while everyone else hurled insult after meaningless insult at me.

Hmmm. Now I know I'm not the one under the enthrallment of a fox spirit; it seems like every other male in this stinkin' stables are though, judging from the way they all seem to leap to her defense. I would have laughed, but that blade's tip is still pointed at my throat. I wonder if those besotted males even realize that. Not my problem though, as I took another drag of tobacco, not even bothering to listen to whatever they're talking about anymore. I'm just wondering.......why would Kaminari even take offense to what I said in the first place? Sure, if I had directed that at a respectable lady, I might have understood such a violently passionate response to what she might perceive as being insulted for being a tramp. But it was not something I expected of a Kitsune like Kaminari is; she did seem fairly comfortable with her own body after all, when we were doing our little courtship duel before the demons showed up. And truth be told, the stories of hu li jing I've heard as a boy always told of them as being adept seductresses, never hesitating to use their 'talents' for their own benefit; I had thought Kaminari no different from these fox spirits of legend.

Obviously, there must have been certain gaps in these legends, for Kaminari certainly wasn't reacting the way I had expected her to. In fact, she seemed somewhat prudish for a fox spirit. I don't know, but whatever. No point trying to reason with her now; I'll just let her blow off steam, 'cause that's the way I'll get anything done. For now, I was content to just enjoy my smoke, and ignore everybody else as they proceeded to make plans. Was it just me, or were the guys in this merry band of misfits itching to tear me apart for my perceived insult? That armor-laden oaf of a knight, that angsty youth with the surprisingly foul mouth, and especially the latecomer who talked about making me sterile, weak, and impotent. Quite impudent, I should think about claiming that one's scalp sometime in the future. Finally, the Queen of Blades decided to take her damnable blade off my throat; incredibly, they decided it would be the best time to hand out gifts of clothing to the other men. Quite amusing, coming in the wake of a bloodbath, yet the men were so engrossed in their gifts, that they pretty much ignored me while they fawned over their new clothes like......like women. Ha. It suited me though; I wasn't really in the mood for talking at the moment, not after the childish over-reaction I was receiving from all of them. Now the whole lot of them didn't look like people I was especially interested in having a conversation with, although I would still rather have had been in Kaminari's good graces. I still don't know what's going on there.

Finally, they decided to leave for the Prince's feast, with Kaminari taking the obnoxious latecomer's arm. To spite me, perhaps? Most likely, women are all about the mind games, after all. I don't even bother to look at her; let her stew, I couldn't care less. Once she's stewed enough, she'll think about it, and then perhaps she'll understand me a bit better. But it'll probably be a little too late by then; knowing myself, I would already have been far, far away, seeking out new cities, new battles, new conquests. Whatever. There's other girls out there, and even though she's the most special one I've met in all my travels so far, I'm not going to hang around just for that. I've got better things to do.

Such as finding something to fill my belly, for instance. Most outsiders may not know it, but we Sparrowhawk warriors do tend to need a lot of sustenance after battle, especially if it was a difficult one. It should be pretty obvious though; I mean, all that jumping and flying around, that takes a lot of energy, y'know? And since the Prince was good enough to provide free chow, I'll most definitely be there.

Burning out the last of my tobacco, I drop the butt on the floor, and grind it to ash with my boot. The whole lot of the merry band are all gone by now; good, I have no interest in having to deal with them, at least not for the moment. When I judge that the time is ripe, only then did I step out of the stables, and head to the communal feast by myself.

Chow time.

And which morals are you going by?

I smiled at the question. Confession Time!! "I could say that I believe in liberating the oppressed, supporting the weak, and righting great wrongs by my own hand. Yet that was what my father blasted me from his presence for, so I have found myself questioning that. What I do believe is far less, as Sebastian says, high and mighty. I do what I can, where I can, when I can. I have grown to understand the concept of free will, to a degree that I now believe in not depriving any person of it for any reason.

"That's not to say that I oppose prisons. If a person commits a crime, under free will, then that person deserves to lose the capacity of free choices for a time. But slavery I oppose, since it is both involuntary and unjust. I suppose that is my defining sense of morality. A growing belief in the sanctity of the free will and the right to manifest it. Now, that just leaves you, Madame Haertfyre." I smiled as I asked.

"You speak of no benefit to your self. But does not your friends happiness make you happy, therefore benefiting yourself."

It seemed Orome, the warrior lady, seemed to have an opinion on the matter too... though doesn't everyone? "I believe you no what I mean," I replied kindly with a slight smile hinting at the pleasant way in which I replied. "Putting others first and your personal gain behind... I think that says it well," I decided after pausing in thought for a moment. Yes, that said it quite well, though there was obviously room for the notorious of arguers to squeeze through.

"And which morals are you going by? In Illu'varr it is not only legal to own slaves, but a cultural, societal norm to do so. In Hillendowne it is the proper, therefore 'moral' thing to do to marry your eldest daughter if she is still unwed by the time she is twenty three years of age."

Ah, I can see she is the type that likes to make discourse, especially when it dealt with using her wit and intelligence to overcome another's views. "I hope I do not sound condescending, but the legality or normality of an action does not make it moral or immoral. Laws are made by man, and man has long corrupted them. Norms hardly have to be just, fair, or moral... I point you to the recent scene at yon table," I reminder her about the incident with a so called noble and bard. "That tis a norm for the nobles... their ability to treat 'lessers' poorly, but I think you will agree that it hardly makes it right."

Once again I paused to take a breath and sip of ale before as well as get my thoughts straight for a moment. Too many times I have seen people forget their own thoughts and ideas when engaged in a back and forth. "Sometimes you can't over-think things... it tends to overcomplicate them... sometimes the answer is pretty simple."

Nari watched Orome look over at where the minstrel had slunk off humilitated by the actions of siad noble louts - they hardly counted as noble to her either. She knew well that Orome disapproved of such actions.

"But what makes something moral or imoral? Is there such a thing as natural or innate morals, or maoral actions?" She asked softly. She was very curious as to the replies she would get, and it would help her understand them better. Humans were decidedly ununderstandable at times, or so it seemed to Nari.

"Sometimes you can't over-think things... it tends to overcomplicate them... sometimes the answer is pretty simple."
I smiled at that, and in my thoughts agreed most heartily. I let Nari speak aloud one of my favorite questions, as I kept an eye on the detrious of the noblilty that were continuing to make merry at the expense of others. We of Nihongo had legions of failing and faults, but on the whole assinity like those at the higher table were exhibiting wasn't among them.

"I wonder when the bridal party will arrive, the Princes presence would put an end to this" I murmurred to myself, as I watched the drunks begin molesting a serving wench laughing uproariously at her feeble protests.

"But what makes something moral or imoral? Is there such a thing as natural or innate morals, or maoral actions?"

"Ah... a hard question indeed to answer," I responded to her curious and cunning question. "Some people would say that there are. Others would say they are set for by God. And yet others like me would say... we would say that you just have to look inside of yourself."

There was a small basket of bread on the table that I delicately liberated of one of its pieces before continuing, "Take that any way you like... the literal meaning might be that you need to think whether or not you would like something to happen to you, and the figurative meaning may very well be something supernatural or spiritual."

Nari begain to answer Sebastians reply with one of her own as she noted how rowdy those on the dias were becomming. The section they had chosen was filled with the younger, less sedate members of the local nobility and their visiting guests.

The more than normally exuberant actions of the near by young nobles had spread like a contagation, and now several of the table near by were engaged in similarly poor displays of impropriety. One table was engageing in a food fight, with the ladies seated there participating just as avidly as their escorts. The table 'behind' Sebastain, Nari and Powell errupted into gales of laughter as some one tripped a server and the tray of finger foods he had been carrying flew high and scattered every where.

Orome closed her eyes for a moment, and Nari could see that she was clamping down on her temper. She too was more than a little disgusted with the behavior around here. She knew that 'youth must have it's day' and that they were excited about the nupials, but she considered it no excuse for such poor manners.

Then the young lady directly 'behind' Sebestain screamed as the lowcut bodice of her dress was ripped by the rapier tip of the young man sitting across from her. He had been, apparently, demonstrating a newly learned maneuver to his companions and had misjudged the distances between the tip of his weapon and the bunches of lace at her cleevage.

Hatsuri was becoming steadily more repulsed by the behavior he was witnessing of those sitting at nearby tables. The attack on the lady had been the straw that broke the camel's back. He'd stood and moved in a blur catching the rapier blade halfway up from the hilt in an iron grip.

"Sir, I must ask that you return this blade to it's sheath, offer restitution to this lady, request forgiveness from both the lady and those present and cease causing a disturbance." He said in a polite, but firm voice.

I was quite ashamed and aghast at the ensuing actions from various other tables on the dais, especially the one directly behind me, which I could not ignore when I heard a shriek of dismay. As I turned to examine the situation, I noticed one of the ladies' dress had been cut by a miscreant blade handler.

That was the last straw in this rowdy situation that was the proverbial camel's back. I turned in my seat, about to stand and rebuke their misbehavior, but to my surprise and delight, the young lad Hatsuri had beaten me too it... not that I cared whether it was he or I that did the deed.

"Sir, I must ask that you return this blade to it's sheath, offer restitution to this lady, request forgiveness from both the lady and those present and cease causing a disturbance."

Well said, I noted, even if it was slightly condescending in tone despite his calm manner. Demands in such a sequence rarely sounded polite...

The young noble's face turned red and he attempted to pull his rapier back, but Hatsuri's strength and balance were greater than his - he had several too many glasses of strong wine - and he was unable to. Infact he toppled backward, over ballanced and landed on his well padded buttocks.

"Why you beggar!" He snarled and tried to regain his feet.

At the same time the ones he had been preening before surged to their feet furious that some nobody would dar to interrupt their play.

Cries of indignation erupted in a cacophony, as the young ladie's sisters and friends began berating the men of the party.

It was spreading, as about them other tables began to catch the feverish uproar and make it their own.

Hatsuri let the man's rapier go when he tugged back on it, causing him to fall. As he shouted his insults as he tried to get up, Hatsuri looked down at the oaf, "Beggar I am not, but I would gladly beg before I became scum that would besot himself and assault a lady. On the other hand, if you view me as a beggar then I'm sure you'd expect me to take out the trash in front of me..."

He was still 'white', but the likelyhood of going 'black' was starting to increase.

Ah, it was a feast, all right. So many tables, laden with all the free chow and wine that the Prince of Orlando has so generously afforded his fellow citizens on this one special day, and so many of the city's citizens feasting in an orgy of widespread debauchery. Peasantry and nobility alike awash in meat and wine, even though they have been seperated by class, all feasting and knocking themselves out. If there ever is a good reason why the Tribesmen of the Plains saw the city-dwellers as decadents, this general display of ill-discipline and gluttony would be it.

I'm not complaining though; food is expensive to purchase in the cities, and of course I would jump at the chance to sate myself at no cost. I walk through the tables set out for the peasantry, grabbing morsels from every table that I pass through; at any other time, if I had tried that in any inn, I would have been met with outrage and calls of 'thief', amongst other things. However, the free flow of chow and grog had put the populace in a merry mood, and at least for the moment, they were all too happy to share their meals with the Tribesman who went around picking choice morsels off their very plates, for they could just as easily call for more. Of course, I should probably be finding myself a seat and ordering my own meal too like everyone else, but I couldn't find a vacant seat for one, and for two, I just prefer to move around, drinking in the sights and sounds of the decadent Orlandians toasting each other for every small blessing they could think of in their addled minds. I watch as brawls began to break out amongst some of the common tables, fueled by alcoholic influence and macho posturing. Ah, decadency. Sometimes, it just beats us Tribesmen how these city slickers get any work done at all, what with all the extravagance these foppish princes splash out on at every whim.

It was just then, as I was polishing off the remains of my last acquisition, that I noticed that there seemed to be an uproar happening in.......the upper-class section, of all places. Well, now that's something. To have the salt of the earth engage in general disorder during merrymaking is something that is pretty much taken for granted no matter where the lands I travelled, but to have something like that happen in the upper classes, now that was a sight worth watching. I flipped aside the remains of my snack; somewhat under the influence of the copious amounts of strong liquor I had consumed on my way around the common tables, I was in a curious mood, and I made my way to the upper-class sections. Most probably someone would have stopped me, but when one is a Sparrowhawk of my caliber, it is child's play to elude any who would have stopped me in my tracks........

_______________________________________________________________________________

The uproar at the tables of the nobility grew increasingly to fever pitch, with the loutish group of brash young lordlings on their feet, facing off against the lone youth from the other table who had dared to humiliate one of their number, the one who had outraged the poor young lady's modesty, while the entourage of the outraged young lady in question heckled the young blue-bloods for their loutish behaviour. It all seemed as if it was going to come to a head at some point, sparking off an incident that was sure to displease the Prince of the City, and there seemed no way to stop it.

That is, until a black flowing robe with orange trimmings floated down from the sky out of nowhere, and landed neatly onto the astonished young lady with the ruined dress, covering her modesty as it draped itself onto her shoulders and formed a makeshift shawl until she could find sturdier clothings.

Nari gasped; the Plainsland robe was one familiar to her, as well as to the rest of the party, who stared at the black-and-orange robe which had belonged to a certain rogue they had a chance meeting with not so long ago. The young lady's entourage, as well as the bunch of loutish lordlings stared at the robe as well, including the one with the wayward rapier.......until he realised that the said rogue who owned the robe was sitting on his left shoulder, as if it was as sturdy a perch as any. Incredibly, the stunned lout didn't even buckle under Tian's weight, for the Black Panther felt as light as a feather on his shoulder, no doubt the result of the Sparrowhawk's skill in the manipulation of his own innate energy.

"Yoohoo!", went Tian, as he took a deep drag out of his fag, before turning his attention to the momentarily-stunned Hatsuri.

"Oh, nice little speech by the way, kid", the Tribesman remarked flippantly, blowing two long streams of smoke out of his nostrils, making him look somewhat like a fire-breathing dragon. "Short, concise, and to the point. But.......", and here, the Black Panther raised his left finger, shaking it at the young man.

"Tsk tsk tsk. You forgot to tend to the lady first."

That said, the Tribesman hopped off the lout's shoulder, strolling casually towards Orome's group. He glanced back at the table, seeing Nari in the midst of the bunch of misfits that had first met at a certain stables in the city a while ago, and winked to her; a reminder of the similarity of their first meeting with what was happening now. Then, he turned back to the situation at hand; walking towards the table of the loutish nobles, Tian paused, looking down at the young lady whose robe he had draped over the shoulders of, and winked to her as well.

"Get something else to wear before I take my robe back, lassie."

The young lordling whom Hiragana had embarassed had, by this time, managed to get back unsteadily on his feet, and stared with bloodshot eyes at the intruder from the exotic lands of the Plains, intending to exact a measure of revenge against someone, anyone. Seeing that the drunken lout had regained his feet, only then did Tian then turned his attention to him, one eyebrow raised, and took another long drag out of his fag, duly unconcerned with the sharp rapier in the lordling's hand. "And as for you, you worthless lout."

Maddened by his humiliation, the young lordling roared a battlecry, and charged blade-first towards the arrogant Tribesman who had belittled him. However, he was as yet still roaring drunk and sadly lacking in actual technique; it was a simple matter for the Black Panther to sidestep the thrust of the rapier, reach down with his bare hand, and rip the fabric of the lordling's pants.

From the surrounding tables, men roared with laughter while the shrill squeals of ladies filled the air; the lordling stumbled, but didn't manage to fall all the way before Tian grabbed the back of his shirt, pivoted, and proceeded to throw the pantless lordling crashing into another table. Yawning, the Black Panther took a last drag out of his burned-out fag, before dropping it to the floor and crushing it with his boot.

"And that's the last lesson from Sensei Zhao for the day. I'll see you all for lessons tomorrow morning!", the arrogant flame-haired one crowed, blowing out his last breath of smoke. He stood there self-satisfied, as the crowd laughed at the misery of the humiliated lordling, while his friends stared with eyes bulging from anger at him. But then, Zhao turned his glance onto the table of the lordlings, and his expression turned to one of astonishment.

"Whoooooah!!!!"

Suddenly he leapt at their table, and panicking, the remaining lordlings backed off, ready for any attack. But attack was not on Tian's mind for the moment; instead, he landed onto the table that the loutish lordlings had just vacated, and seating himself on its surface, proceeded to help himself to the large roasted bird that took centerstage on the table.

"Itadakimasu!!!!", Tian proclaimed, wasting no time in serving himself a large meaty leg from what would have been part of the lordlings' luncheon, seemingly with no sense of bashfulness whatsoever.

I took a long draught of my wine as a very rapid sequence of events turned what was a party into a brawl. Amongst nobles, ironic and, if you ask me, the type of poetic justice that I would meet out given the chance. Ah well, so much for that. "Well, so much for my food, eh?" I remarked to the only three left at the table, Orome, Nari, and Sebastian. Then I heard the Tribesman's remarks. Greeaaat. He's back. And I am so tired at this point that I really could do with a firm bed or a decent campsite.

Standing and turning, I adopted my favorite, and default voice, that flat one that speaks only fact and is destroyed by the slightest mistruth. "You've ruined my lunch. You've caused offense to a lady, and spoke ill of my companion. Your antics are, euphemistically, unruly and in bad taste. I would suggest you apologize and sober yourselves up. Look around you. How many people do you think are actually rooting for you in this one?"

I did not want to reopen my links to the primordial streams. My flashy antics with Worfan earlier had been enough. I was tired. This was going to get ugly if I had to get involved.

As Powell spoke, a mis aimed roll, heavily spread with butter and honey, landed on his head. Butter side down of course, honey dripping slowly down. And to all appearances his words went unnoticed.

The louts who had backed away from the tribesman's antics now charged back to defend the table, and the fine roast capon they had claimed as theirs. They were goaded on in this by the young ladies who had abandoned their defense of their robe drapede sister. One of them swung her cider filled tankard at Tain, but it met the side of Sebastain's face as she pivoted wildly and showered him with the warm spiced beverage.

Landing on the nearby table, unmindful that his nether reagons were exposed the lordling that Tain tossed aside rolled off and began crawling on hands and knees through the vertible forest of fet and legs back towards his attacker, rapier still in hand.

Five young nobles, apparently related to one of those - they all had disctinctive mops of dark hair and large hooked noses as did one of those originally at the table- at the table where Tain set left their own table and appraoched with fire in their eyes. They were also obviously not from Orlando, the crest on their robes indicating membership in one of the major clans of Xaranadu, the "Many Pleasured Lands", as the sprawling Principality nicknamed. Their rapiers were in their hands and their eyes shown wetly with one of the many senses enhancing drugs that the skilled appothacaries of the Principality produced.

"Oh pox rot it" I muttered half to myself and stood sweeping my chair aside with a lithe movement. The unnatural, oddly floating movements of the men indicated which particular drug they had ingested. It enhanced the senses yes, but also produced a battle high, that slowed their perceptions of time and heightened their reflexes. It was favored by many assassins.

Their attention was not upon me and my odd lot of companions but another, the one who's looks were similar to their own. And gave me the educated guesst that maybe the whole now near riot had outside help. The appothacaries of Xaranadu produced many inhibition lowering drugs that were almost impossible to detect unless one had encounteded them before.

My hads were empty one moment but filled the next with swords. Not the crystal bladed pair that I had employed so effectively in the stables. No these were a matched pair of long slender swords ( http://www.albion-swords.com/images/swords/albion/lady-v/lady-v-1a.jpg) suitable for both cut and thrust - similsr to the other rapiers about but of a far greater quality despite their plain appearance. I moved to intercept the five intent assassins. My movements were as graceful as theirs but it was natural and made one think of water flowing in a stream.

"Sebastain!" I tried to get his attention "Can you get that idiot" I nodded to the one in the group of drunk lordlings engaged in rushing towards Tain. "to the protection of the guards at the high dias?"

I was hoping that those guards- tasked solely with keeping any disturbance from violating the priviledge of the upper dias - would hustle the young lordling off to safety, even if he was not one of those normally granted the right to be in such lofty company.

Hatsuri had noticed the tribesman a few seconds before he landed on his shoulder. While he disliked being used as a stepping stone, the worthlessness of the man was not even worth getting annoyed at. The man, if he could be called that, was always stirring up trouble and Hatsuri wouldn't be surprised if he'd been run out of a number of towns. He was a riot waiting to happen.

He watched Orome move to intercept a group of strangely odd nobles. He was almost certain she'd be able to take care of herself as he avoided flying food stuffs. He hoped the situation would resolve peacefully but it didn't seem like it would.

I grumbled noticeably as a series of events changed slight annoyance and discomfort into full blown chaos and strife. That devilish rogue from the stables earlier had returned and was once again stirring up trouble... not that trouble hadn't arrived before him, but his actions certainly were a catalyst that caused the nobles' emotions to spill over.

As they squared off, centered around the table the nobles had recently been deprived of, I caught myself wondering who I was 'rooting for' in this debacle. On one hand the nobles had acted dishonorably and were becoming slightly rowdy, but on the other was this rogue that had consistently shown his nature to be devilish, rude, and troublesome. Perhaps they would knock each other out and leave only a mess to clean up...

My thoughts were interrupted as a warm liquid, most likely cider by the touch of it on my lips, splashed me on my face and cloak. Such a pity... I had just received this garment from Kaminari and it was already ruined by the fray. I pulled it from my shoulders, revealing my white cloak, trimmed with gold, beneath, and used it to wash my face off. A shame it was to use it as such, but I did not particularly want to remain in the state I was...

However, while wiping the delicious cider from my face, my name from someone’s lips pronounced, I did hear. Over the ruckus I could not tell the speaker, but as Orome was looking nigh my direction and continued speaking, I assume it her and followed her command.

"Sebastian! Can you get that idiot to the protection of the guards at the high dais?"

I looked at the one she indicated and noticed he was foolishly charging at the rogue. Without hesitation I began crossing the dais in long steps with my rapier (secondary weapon) drawn, though only for protection mind you... these men seemed drunk beyond inhibition and sense. Zeroing in on the young lordling in question, I stopped his charge with one heavy hand to his shoulder, but he doth swung around with his sword bearing down. However, my hand was as quick and metal did clash innocuously. As I pushed his sword back, he attempted to fight me with a swing of his fist to my center, but the young man soon found that this angelic metal I bore beneath the surface was stronger than bone...

I do pray that his hand is not broken, as the sickening sound of splintering caught my ears as sure as his fist made contact. Though with pain in mind, the young lordling no longer had the brashness to resist and I swept him away to the upper dais where I left him to the protection of the guards.

I catch note of the disapproving glances shot my way by the members of Orome's party, but it all washes off on me like water off a duck's back; in my six years of travelling the western lands, I've long since grown immune to censure. I had to, considering what I generally did for a living when I wasn't training or making a mickey out of the best warriors of the western nation-states; gambling, swindling, those were the trades of the underbelly of society I had picked up in order to keep a steady stream of income pouring in. Hey, even I have to eat sometimes, you know, not to mention the tobacco and alcohol I regularly indulged myself in, and that costs moolah. Sure, I do freelance mercenary work every now and then, but there's only so many jobs available, and they only pay out so much; I needed the supplement to my income. Of course, the more 'civilized' peoples I have come across along the way tend to view me with disapproval for that, to put it mildly, but what do I care about the approval of the foppish decadents? Take it or leave it, that's the Black Panther for you, no exceptions afforded. Not even to Kaminari, bless her over-reacting little heart.

Well, no time to be ruminating on the weird bias these soft city-slickers holds towards those not like them. The group of blue-blooded louts, caught off-guard by my unorthodox antics at first, now charged towards me with rapiers drawn, seeking to cut me down for my discourtesy towards their high stations. Oh, but the roast capon I had acquired from them is so sweet and juicy; it seemed almost a pity to interrupt my snacking just for these little boys with their toy swords. Oh well, what to do? I toss my half-eaten leg back onto the big dish, picking up the entire bird altogether. This is too good to waste.

I heard the voice of the Queen of Blades, and notice the Armored Oaf drag one particular drunk lordling out of the charging fray of drunk lordlings for some reason, just moments before said fray of drunk lordlings reached the table, and as one swung their rapiers in a surprisingly coordinated group chop, numerous blades shattering the chinaware on the table in their relentless path......but touching neither the plate of roast capon, and me neither. For I had simply floated backward from my cross-legged seating position, gliding backward with all the grace of a floating feather, landing gently on the ground with said plate of roast bird in my left hand to put the table between myself, and the group of drunk lordlings.

"Geez, can't a guy take lunch in peace anymore?! What's the world coming to?!",

I quip, before unleashing a kick that struck straight into the edge of the table. Now, the said table is one heavy piece of furniture, and certainly no mere city-slicker could have hoped to budge it with a mere kick; but I, on the other hand, am a master Sparrowhawk, fully trained in the usage of my body's innate energy. While my training focuses on using that innate energy in the spectacular acrobatics that is integral to the style of the Sparrowhawk Arts, I know also how to use it to deliver a blow of incredible force without requiring too much physical strength, provided I had enough preparation and if need be. As it was, the result was just as I had expected; the great table went flying, smashing into the whole lot of the drunk lordlings (save the one Armored Oaf had just dragged out of the way) like the pins of that quaint little game the decadents called 'nine-pins', sending table and nobles flying right off the edge of the dais altogether to join the general populace they supposedly ruled. No point wasting energy playing swordsman with amateurs; it just isn't worth sacrificing the enjoyment of the roast capon for.

"Care for a bite?", I said with relaxed nonchalance as I resumed snacking on the leg, holding out the large blade of roast bird with my left hand to the nearest people I could see; who incidentally happened to be Kaminari, the Obnoxious Newcomer, and the Angsty Youth. None of which seemed to particularly care for me and my antics at the moment, but hey, good food should go around, right? No good wasting good food, something that I, as someone who has grown up in the Plains, understood all too well. Which is more than can be said for the ladies at the other table, who for some reason are wasting their food by using them as missiles thrown at me. And not to any particular effect, either; their collective aims are so off that I barely had to dodge any incoming missiles, and it seemed like the Obnoxious Newcomer had gotten the brunt of it instead. Good for him, and his inflated sense of self-worth. I sure could use a bit less of his condescendence. In any case, I still do not understand why these fine ladies are attacking me now anyway, and to think I offered my robe to one of their number, too.

No wonder my people never thought much of these decadents. They have no sense of gratitude whatsoever.

There a a few things that I do not enjoy. Until now, getting a scone in the head was not one of them. However, that is a changed matter. Taking it off, I let it fall. Such a shameful waste of food. As Sebastian discarded his soiled garment, I reached for it, found a clean patch, and used that to mop my cranial epidermis. Discarding that, I turned to see Sebastian go to engage himself with a bunch of nobles that looked euphoric, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

The young noble and his buddies were working themselves up for a brawl to make any troll proud. Unfortunately, I wasn't in the mood. My fingers curled into a fist, one that was quickly sheathed in metal. This would require subtlety, and manipulating my clothing to form weapnry was easier than reforming my body. As my robes shortened, they were turned into a durable yet flexible armor, useful, though, to my detriment, not as high a quality as Sebastian's.

That was when the obnoxious tribesman kicked the table at the group. I commented dryly on this, thereby adding fuel to a growing fire. "You know, you idiots, really should stop before one of you gets hurt." The very few left close to me didn't take kindly to this. Dullards.

As one of the nobles charged, I sidestepped, sending him into the table, and turned to face the next. A flick of my wrist, and the stool he had just vacated lodged itself in his feet. "Watch yourself laddy. You seem to be tripping over your feet." Ah, the beauty of subtlety.

The five toughs from Xaranadu, were little effort for me, and the silver blades I bore flashed in the bright sun, as I danced among them, slapping their thrusts aside and parrying those that came to close. One I disarmed with a flick of my wrist as I bound his blade with mine, then a hearty kick to his forward knee had him on the ground screaming in pain as his knee shattered.

The others lost their taste for advancing on me and began trying to retreat as I laid another's chest open down to the ribs, the maille he wore availing him not. He stumbled backward falling to his ass, his cries mingling with the others.

Then seeing that their target had seen spirited away and to the high dias the remaining able bodied three faded back into the crowd as quickly as they could, with no backwards glances to their injured commrades.

"Care for a bite?"

Kaminari ignored the plainsman, and swept around the end of the table, then up the far side, intent on backing Orome up. She knew that Xaranadu thugs favored backstabbing, and she wouldn't let her friend be blindsided.

She found herself bombarded by handfulls of grapes thown by a group of young ladies two tables over, and dodged them as best she could. Though her lips were compressed in a thin line of fury she did not retalliate against them.

She noted that Powell had been muffined, and that Hatsuri was, for the moment agilly dodging other flying food stuffs.

Anastrianna Amakiir had found that the road to Orlando was long and filled with dangers of every description. Numerous times since her journey down this road had started she had run into one diversion after another. The last being the worst by far … She had caught a group of Dark Elves ransacking a home and accosting the owner because of a map they believed he possessed. The map they sought supposedly lead to an elven treasure cache which they wished to find and claim for themselves. The treasure was supposed to be near an ancient elven tree community located deep in the forest north of the road to Orlando that had since been a long time deserted. She had stopped them from killing the old man and chased the remaining party members back to a gapping hole in the ground that they quickly disappeared into. She had then asked her God to place a powerful block on this gapping hole so the dark elves would not be able to harass the old man any more. Her God agreed to do this but warned it was only a temporary fix to the problem because the dark ones would endeavor to find a new avenue to the surface. He finished by saying that he would protect the old man until she could return and put an end to the evil that lay just beneath the surface of the land. When she learned that she had wanted to go after them immediately but obeyed when the Most High said she was needed in Orlando worse. So here she and Tharivol now stood … just outside the West Gate of Orlando.

Hatsuri caught an apple that had been hurled in his general direction, taking a bite out of it as he watched, from the inside, what was a grand melee of a food fight. As he finished eating the apple, he noticed a young boy who couldn't be more than six or seven years of age moving through the lesser nobility relieving them of purses, rings, necklaces and other items of value.

It seemed that the fight was bringing the battlefield looters out early as this conflicted seemed to only have a few casulties in the works.