Sigil: T.C.o.D - [Walk-In][Modern Fantasy: Cycle 32][O/A]

[Haelikor]

[Market Ward -- Guppy's Bait Shop -- Alleyway]

"Edward." Omi repeated that name, this time face far more stern in the alleyway they had found themselves in, words carrying a reprimanding tone to them. ".. you're distraught. Forgive me if there's something about her I was not aware of." In his and Wigi's passing, the snake's aloof and grin coated demeanor had metamorphosed, turning into something far more grim and professional -- shoulders taunt and upright. No longer like a soldier but standing as a general.

..of course. Time was unmerciful. Barsait wasn't sure if the woman once known as a comrade in arms of his was dead or -- perhaps it was more than something so simple. No, the heat in the cyborg's posture and expression told him a loss wasn't it. Aloof, Omi knew of the girl well enough to remember how carefree she enjoyed coming off, much like a sprite. Perhaps that tied into the cyberpunk's rage and frustration; something worse, a tinge of betrayal. Perhaps not. The complications and conflict that Omi had danced through, much had changed in the world around him since..

However.

"Edward. I need your help. No; I demand it as part of the vows we swore together back then. Talk to me if you want, enlist my aid if you need, but I will have your allegiance." The corners of his lips just visibly shook, pupils widening as they took in the darkness of their conditions, shaking ever faster. Were it an illusion, perhaps that would be well enough, but how resolute his shoulders stayed compared to the rest of his body sent the signal across. This was no longer a time of contest and "peace" if ever that existed. Omi was in a war. A true one. It waged around them, the death toll rising onward onward ever rising in its momentum. Overwhelming force had to be sought to bring it to an end; if Barsait even had a dream's chance of such might, he needed numbers and the sort capable of making a true influence. Edward.. Wigi.. they.. were such.

Yet they had their own problems. Understandable, but .. but there wasn't enough time anymore!

Smoldering, body heat seemed to exude from every pore of the mercenary, relaxed posture gone with the wind and muscles popping into place. Were it an illusion or not, the pores of his skin seemed to just within the visible spectrum ebb a soft glow of dark red, breath rate hastening. "Sigil.. this "plague" is merely a footnote in its hellish history. The corruption here is so disgusting and gluttonously verbose, it should sicken anyone who eyes it. You don't need me to tell you that Edward-- but." His voice was taking on raspy elements, lowering, becoming more gruff and deep as the man spoke with a shaking intensity that spelled uncertainty for their surroundings. "Tell me you can stand by my side. If you need me to cut down ninety of your enemies, so be it; I'll scorch their corpses off the face of this earth but then, you'll join me. I have .. a problem too.. this disgusting illness sprouting about, it's but the exhale of a sickening set of beasts who gave it birth, an' Ed, I was there when it happened. This.. Sigil.."

Mnch. The sound of Omi's boots crunching as he stepped even closer to the cyborg, not even slightly hesitant of retrieval. His eyes were practically rimmed red now; lips nimble as he nearly growled: "I trust.. y' got something important here too then. I have something precious here. Fate dealt me a sick hand, chaining me with a diamond in a cage with a beast, the both o' us wanting to devour the other. The whole damn city's infrastructure's dirty on top of it. You want something bad as I do, else you'd not be so bitter in your eyes; let's do it."

Eying down at Edward, Omi's final words boomed:
"Les' crush every damned remnant of our opposition 'til Sigil is half gold and half smoke."
.. none of them were perfect.
But something.. absolutely had to change. Only their hands could bring it.

Just Naota

[Pump Action Phoenix]

Distraction Returns

Whether Lokas could make out the difference or not in the cacophony, the sound of rubber pellets putting golf-ball sized dings in sheet metal was mixed in with the heavy thud of a body rolling across the roof of the van at almost but not exactly the same time.

Out of all this, Lokas's van was going to fare the best. A massive overhaul and upgrade saw to that. Without further derailing this post in frivolous details, suffice to say that those rubber balls would be bouncing harmlessly off his van's sides with nary a mark. Although there was still a man sized dent in the passenger's side.

Tekka wasn't the only one that made a habit of using her opponent's senses against them. Lokas's method was a little different though. Much of Lokas's tactical experience involved deafening, blinding, or otherwise incapacitating an enemy before finishing them off with tactical proficiency. Her toys were more magical, and less debilitating than his own. They also probably never backfired and left her with nice golf ball sized bruises across her arms and face. The explosion wasn't nearly as loud as the one from earlier, and Lokas had earplugs in anyways. He took a step backwards, but mostly because a rubber pellet had opened up a small gash over his cheek. Getting hit in the face was never pleasant, although his arms and legs had suffered far worse. Only because they were larger targets. Plenty of bruises and superficial cuts.

But the grenade had served its purpose. No more clones, just one Tekka who was gone from sight. Another exasperated sigh from Lokas. The tenants of this city were far too durable for his tastes. It was so much easier when they just stayed down after getting shot. Not to mention he hadn't heard her rumbling across his van's top, so he only had a vague hunch as to where she was. A vague hunch that could be confirmed. That is, if she didn't stay on top of his van. If she went all the way over to the driver's side, Lokas had a very easy way to tell she was there.

It wasn't exactly a low clearance vehicle. Not necessarily high clearance either, but seeing a pair of feet wouldn't be hard. It was a little trick that Lokas had picked up, right before he'd learned what ineffective cover automobiles were. If Tekka did drop to the other side, the chances of her throwing up an illusion to protect her location weren't exactly high either. Very rarely did someone have the presence of mind to consider such a small detail in the heat of combat.

That still didn't give Lokas a whole lot of options. He had a proper flash bang sitting on his waist next to the remaining stingball, but she'd already proven she could cast her tricks when incapacitated. That was out. Lokas hadn't the presence of mind to pack tear gas. He had those rubber slugs, but she had cover. Lokas sighed and picked the last sting ball grenade from his belt. Pin was pulled and the count began again.

One...

[[ Cognitive Genome ]]

Slave Pens - Epidemic Epicenter

FFFFRRRWWWWOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHH

The double bolt shells struck the daemon with the fist of a rathin' angry god, piercing inhuman meat and bone, only to detonate a split-second later. Gore rained down like it was a tropical storm, but that wouldn't be the first thing noticed - it'd be the sudden, massive flare as the horrific beast was suddenly immolated by the red phosphorous in the two bolts. The chemical agent ignited under the heat generated by the high explosive detonation, causing the entire mass of mutating flesh and organs to burst into flames.

The noises that followed - scream, howl, similar words having no meaning for what came out of that thing's multi-mawed throats - forced Ebris to clutch at his ears in agony and fear, almost falling to his knees and into the frothing gore. His heart stammered, the sheer inhumanity of the entity nearly causing it to stop dead in his chest. Even after being blasted into near-pieces, the beast was still able to live - and it was angry.

Having exhausted all reasonable options, the bounty scum had no rathin' idea what to do next - he could barely manage to operate over that abominable din, after all.

Fortunately for all of them, woowoo man wasn't just a normal meta - he happened to be a rathin' holy meta.

With a flash of white light, the discordant screams came to a slow, gurgling halt - only to be followed by the visceral noise of meat and bone slipping and crunching apart. Ebris slowly looked up, eyes throbbing, to see the two-halves of the beast slide apart and collapse into the liquid that had burst from its guts. Parts of the entity began to dissolve then, its bond to the material world severed - however, as it was half an abomination of reality, massive chunks of meat here and there still remained. Ebris panted, feeling some of the stench lift from his nostrils - everything still smelled worse than imaginable, but it wasn't to the point it could drive a man insane.

Of course, when you think something's over...

"Rathin' PISS!" Ebris screamed in incredulous anger, watching as a collection of Throne-damned grod turds pop out of the flaming piles of gore - yet more daemons, though they were little grodstains compared to the original ones. Still, the bounty killer gave no daemon a chance, as they all had the potentiality to do some really, really bad grod. The scum holstered the Ordinatus under his coat and behind his belt again, only to quickly draw his Carnosaur. His battle instinct reminded him that he only had 3 shots left in this cell, so he took slow, purposeful aim and made each of 'em count.

BLAM! - BLAM! - BLAM!

Streaks of red energy burst from the DE-15 at three individual daemons - the closest ones to the bounty hunter. Ebris hoped that the las blasts were enough to pop the rathers like the walking plague zits they were, but if they weren't, he was already prepping: the Carnie was snapped open, the spent cell removed and pocketed, and replaced with the last HO-1 cell he had on him. If one shot meant one kill, that'd leave one of the grodstains waddling about, but Ebris wasn't feeling too keen on being a glory hog too much - let these other rathers help balance the Throne-damned load, after all.



DE-15" Carnosaur" Hellpistol - HO-1 power cell shots remaining: 0/6; 6/6 (HO-1 reload)

[Damnatus]

Aduven Kroww

Upon the figure's arrival, Voss had narrowed eyes that were not his and regarded Damnatus' appearance with amusement. The twisted nature of the man's aura, if you care to explain it that way, immediately identified the psyker to the outsider. But there was something wrong about his appearance nonetheless, and it wasn't until he felt Elias' unpleasant reaction to the man that he figured it out. Clever.

Especially considering the fact that what was really going on with the shambling thing in front of them wasn't even close to what Elias thought it was.

Fleshcrafting? And not even a good job at that. He's a walking corpse! Elias would have shuddered if he'd been in control of his body. As it was, he communicated his discomfort and thoughts on the matter as directly as he was able. Such a practice was vile and gave the old wizard the chills. Had Voss not been in the fore of his mind, Elias' reaction would have betrayed his true thoughts, and when dealing with someone like Damnatus that was never a good thing. Such a lack of control would have the twisted psyker taking advantage as soon as the opportunity represented itself. As it was, Voss had insisted, and Elias had agreed wholeheartedly. Not that he was given much choice. This meeting was far too important to blunder about in, and Voss was right in his thinking that a lowly servant should not be the one to handle such a disclosure of information. Connor was the entity's area of expertise, and yet, Elias still had no idea why.

The wizard wouldn't describe the possession as such. To preserve his humanity, perhaps, he referred to Voss as 'sitting in' on his affairs, or 'dynamically observing'. But the truth of the matter was, with a contract forged, Voss owned Elias through and through. In his Spiraled Library, he glanced at the door marked Voss, and sighed. The chains which he had forged to protect himself from what lay within that portal still held tight. That much he was able to do to protect his mind. Curiosity in this case was nowhere near strong enough a reason to risk peeking into that unfathomable psyche. Once had been enough...too much, even.

"Indeed." To say Damnatus was not what Voss had expected is both true and false. He had entered into this game of wits fully knowing he would be surprised. Damnatus, for all the extravagance Voss had put forth in summoning him here, was still an unknown. This was an extremely dangerous venture Voss had embarked on. He wasn't too perturbed by this fact, for one wrong move only meant that he'd simply step back from Elias' mind and allow him to deal with the Warp Sorcerer, or Norman would take Damnatus out of the picture, for now. He was too interesting a creature to destroy outright.

"Now my question is, how do you intend to deal with this...mess? I've already said my part." For good measure, he threw in tones of annoyance and impatience, and altered Elias' miasmic aura to reflect the same. The two manipulators had entered into a game of wits that Voss fully intended to come away as victor. But then again, so did Damnatus.

Flashback - The Hive - Night of the Terror Daemon Incident

Damnatus, or what he made himself out to be, grinned - a broken thing, missing teeth and even a chunk of the lower right mandible itself.

"It is...," the shattered form wheezed horribly, though decaying lungs and a partially-rent trachea, "a rather unwise decision to beckon me so."

It was clear that this man - a wizened individual clad in a garb and exuding an aura that suggested of the eldrtich - knew more about Damnatus than what the warp sorcerer knew about him, but that did not seem to deter the psyker, or throw him off; no, the shattered frame, clad in blood-and-filth smeared clothing, simply cocked his head to the side in some significant measure of thought and still declared this other man was engaging in a very dangerous gambit.

The corrupted sorcerer hacked and wheezed messily, his frame bending oddly to accommodate in a way that suggested something was broken. Pinkish froth bubbled and spilled from the open wound on his throat, splattering to the ground to mix with the other fluids congealing at his feet.

"Ahhh," Damnatus breathed, body shuddering as he slowly righted it back up - body eliciting several snaps as he did so. "Very dangerous, yes...but I will let it pass. I will play your little game."

It would likely be unclear if the psyker was coherent or rambling like a lunatic - the form he had taken on, its sole eye and accompanying empty socket illuminated balefully with the power of the Warp, made it difficult for even the most astute to determine. It made this conversation all the more perilous - would he simply engage in dialogue, or lash out with his power? Damnatus coughed again - het het het - before addressing his summoner's concerns.

"The first issue is a non-issue," he began, allowing his mangled body to begin pacing, his movements resulting in more sloshing noises. "The hunter I encountered had no choice to allow me to part with the entity, as I was far too an unknown factor for him to reasonably deal with. Why charge in foolishly and be slaughtered when one could wait and fully appreciate the threat, then strike? It shows that that man possessed some mote of intelligence; however, the next time he interferes with my works will be his last."

The explanation, despite coming from a ruined throat that made his voice sound like ripped meat, was calm, thorough, precise - there was not a hint of any anger or displeasure about the complications with the hunter, but rather a simple matter to be factored into consideration and dealt with appropriately. Damnatus did not consider that person to be a threat, but he made sure to plan for all situations.

"Now," the warp sorcerer continued, pausing to turn and hold up his right index finger, "as for the subject of this meeting - Connor Kroww will be dealt with - in time."

Damnatus paused, letting that sit in. It let this old fool that he was not to be at someone's beck and call.

"The boy is indeed a threat - I could ascertain that upon my first observations of him a year ago. However," he murmured wetly, his voice lowering to a harsh, thick whisper that suggested of the underlying madness that defined the sorcerer's existence, "to expect me to drop all of my plans - all of my work - to deal with a Warp-crazed child makes me believe that you do not comprehend what is going on in this city."

The psyker's mauled face was pulled into a horrible sneer, granting unto him a visage close to that of even a daemon. Damnatus began to limp towards the wizard, shuffling and leaking heavily.

"And to think, you merely think I am some power-obsessed fool? To think that all I am capable of is throwing the raw might of the Warp at a conduit for the very stuff?"

It seemed as though the presence around the sorcerer began to constrict, become stifling, even though he was still some feet away from his target. Finally, deliberately, Damnatus came to stand before the wizard, and despite this form's height being below six feet in height, his presence loomed ominously over the magus.

"You underestimate me, sir, he rasped in a deadly tone to the man, a horrid combination of insanity and calculation gripping that single, blasted eye of his that quivered in its socket, "but you do not have to fret; I will handle this matter, such as I handle all matters - it is you that needs to address your own part of this plan you so bring before me."

[SARQ]

LOCATIONslave.pens//KILLit_withFIRE

XXXXThrashing about wildly with the intent to remain free from the monster's grasp, a shuddering collapse sloshed Radek over the edge like a mudslide. Down he went, finally succumbing to the Queen's grip, as the entire thing jiggled, melted, and broke down metabolically into ooze, lymph, and pus. He was sucked under and vanished in the torrential collapse of the Chaos spawn.
XXXXFrom the sludge rose 10 slugs, each as ugly as one would expect. Ebris cursed, as did some new dude whining about his new bike. It was his fault, though; who drive a motorcycle into a building? Oh, right, Radek. As he stared up at the roof from underneath the slime, he recalled crashing his hoverbike through the side of a pub and plowing through the bar itself. A lot of property damage was had that day, not like tonight. Was it night? Time had kinda gotten ignored within the stone walls of the Slave Pens, especially when confronted with an otherworldly giant of disease and infection. Digressing, Radek snarled at the sound of the b***h's voice. Enough was enough.
XXXXRising from the sludge like an infant from the womb, Radek's entire form was smeared and ripping with globs of the repulsive mixture of dead Nurgle innards. Had his mask expressed emotion, it would have been blazing with pure untempered rage. Both arms now displayed the Grievous split, and each lower limb had their chitin blades extended. Hardly intimidating in comparison to the swearing bounty hunter currently squeezing off intimidating shells from his Carnosaur at the new horde of enemies.
XXXXThat was, until the two purple-red blades burst into Neg flames. If that wasn't enough, the complete immersion into the Warp slushie had driven the parasite to overclock; so much outside energy to consume, yet place to house to excrement was running short. There was only one thing left to do, and that was to expel the excess.
XXXXLike a rad for lightning, Radek pushed his open palms towards two of the slugs, his bladed limbs stretching back as they prepared to go into overdrive. From his offered hands fired two arcs of Jagged Neg, the plasma burning the air much the same as Ebris had, and raced towards the spines of two chaos slugs.
XXXXAND THEY'RE OFF! Like a horse out of the gates, Radek bolted around the outskirts of the slugs, his boots digging their cleats into the stone to keep him from taking a ride on the Nurgle slip-and-slide he'd helped to make. His free hands closed, and Jagged Neg started to crackled over them once more. At this point, he didn't ******** care about Ebris or the three others. Well, sorta in Ebris's case, seeing as how Ryke was chummy with the brute and he'd agreed to keep her emotionally and mentally stable when he'd given her the scarab. The bounty hunter's opinion of Radek, though, was another thing all together.

+++++

NEG: 2|8 6J FRENZY: 8

[Morwen Alvitr]

Danika Jones

**************************************************

Location: Ladies ward ~ Outfit

Danika had left the Black Cherry due to some guy who had tried to give her coins, coins that he so tried to buy her booze for the remainder of her night. She couldn't stay there. Shame because she REALLY like that bar. Perhaps she would return later when he had moved on. For now though she had practically commissioned a man..er...walking dead by the dubbed nickname of Bonez, to escort her. In her rational mind it would be a good idea to have someone who was already dead be your body guard. Truth be known she got dumped here, literally, when she leaped out of a car to which belong to a man that had lied to her. Danika was an aspiring world dominating model, down and hard on her luck. This guy claimed to be a rep for a modeling agency. He wasn't he was a rep for the porn industry. Her drop off was random and she was so far away from where she had left her car. All she had was what was on her. All she had was herself and her money. It was why she had ventured out from the Cherry, to do some clothing shopping. Being utterly new to this place that she had just learned was called Sigil, she had zero idea of the current state and reason for the Sigils current state of economy.

Danika was walking into the lions pen it seemed. A very pretty girl with a lot of cash, just looking to buy some new clothes. In all the places she had ever been dressing like you meant it got you quite far. In a rickshaw Danika and Bonez left the Guild Hall and was now entering the Ladies Ward.

[Trexasle]

"Bonez"

"I want you to be completely aware that this is a bad idea." Bonez, as Danika began to call him. began to relax himself on the rickshaw, by relaxing his legs, standing his legs up on the edge of the cart. "If you feel this is a good idea fine, but let me warn you Miss Danika it is not a good idea to be her. He knew a few stuff about Sigil to get him by, he knew that the town was nearly destroying itself with crime and slave capturing at the likes, it had just to majorly surprise him.

"Sadly I can't guide you much here really, I mean I don't exactly shop at the Gucci clothing stores and the likes." He raised an eyebrow one her and then looked down at his own threads. a Work red cape covering a dirty suit, the covers now unknown due to the mass of dust and paint. He dusted himself off a bit and looked around the town, he could screams and Moaning. He took a sniff of the air and smiled.

"Welcome to Sigil..."

[Morwen Alvitr]

Danika Jones

**************************************************

Location: Ladies ward ~ Outfit

Coming to a halt she noticed that this area was better than the last and so to her it was a step up...accept...the people. She could see it, feel it, there were very hard times here. As she got out she clutched a hand to her decolletage as her brows furrowed in confusion. "Bonez...what has happened?" she turned her body a bit to look at him and then added "Yea, well people can change. You should try it. You might be better received if you did buy a Gucci suit...though...men in Armani is more my thing" she looked away and surveyed the landscape. Danika could tell very easily that this place was once a thriving and pretty place. She decided that when it came to the Guildhall it's rough appeal is what gave it character. Danika still wasn't aware of why shopping was such a bad idea. Nor was she aware of the gangs and the slavery that had taken place.
"Bonez...how much harm can there really be in doing a little shopping? I mean...cleary we are in a nicer part of...er...the city...are we not?" she forced her brows to relax as she gave a soft whimsical chuckle, aloof trying to shrug this repressing feeling.

[Trexasle]

"Bonez"

"Armani...sui..." However he paused for a second, his pupiless eyes for a second glew a dark brown. Before closing, and opening again. "I don't think that's a good idea, we should just go yes?" He stated completely avoiding the conversation. He would look at the ladies ward and raise an eyebrow, he was positive that he was in this place before, he was raking his brain, yet again literally for a quick second attempting to give himself something to remember about the place. Nothing however really came much into mind.

He decided that hearing her lack of voice and apprehension he let out a soft sigh. "WEll because of the collapse of the portal, The city isn't really doing TOO well, in terms of Economy. Slavers are running around capturing and kidnapping others, and I heard there was a plague nearby The Nine swords pub. The place isn't exactly in the best of shape, I think we're just lucky to be in the safest of areas right now at least."

[Sins of an Angel]

arrow The Slave Pens: High Security Holding Cells

Ryke was getting tired of this mouthy fool, and surely Izzy's beau was feeling the same. The more time they needlessly spent with this waste of oxygen, the less time they had to safely retrieve the punker. Sadly, there wasn't anything either of them could do until they finished their business with the battered and beaten scabman here. The trouble with that, was she didn't know what else to do at this point.

He was laughing at her, mocking her and refusing to cooperate anymore. None of which sat well with the former hunter turned mechanic. Her grin turned sour rather fast, but no words left her lips yet and she let the scabman flap his gums a little bit more, letting her temper simmer on low heat a little longer...

Elliterate

"You're a real gullible b***h you know that? You think I was just gonna tell you how to walk through to your friend? Nah. That psychotic piece of a** is gonna bleed to death at the end of that hallway, and I ain't gonna do s**t to let you stop her from meeting that end now. Them's the breaks, sugar."

He shook his head from side to side, tugging his shoulders violently to try and remove himself from their grip.

"I had you eatin' outta my hands. Belivin' that they woulda had this place workin' on retina scans. You're laughing if you think I'll show you a damn thing now."

If there was a surefire way to really piss off someone like Ryke, it was to push buttons, it was to make a fool out of her and rub it in her face. He had turned into a condescending a*****e and now, she was done feeling generous and starting to feel particularly unkind. The scabman struggled to break free from her and Reinhart's hold, his attempts becoming violent.

He wanted to be free? Fine.

Once Reinhart let go, Ryke was free to lift and shove the man backwards into the gate, considering he clearly wouldn't resist what with how hard he was fighting against her. In a momentary vicious streak, her foot flew out from her and attacked the man's already injured knee. She wasn't at all above taking advantage of existing wounds and weaknesses, especially when it was well earned. If it connected, he ought to expect a straight right punch following up shortly thereafter. Maybe knocking out a few teeth might help encourage him to cooperate. Or just allow Ryke to vent her anger.

"Wrong answer!"

She might have been a woman, and a lanky one at that, but you best be sure she hit as hard as any man. Not that it did anything for her femininity, or her significant lack thereof...

[Morwen Alvitr]

Danika Jones

**************************************************

Location: Ladies ward ~ Outfit

Danika's eye's grew wide before she gasped and darted for Bonez clinging to his arm. "Help!" she yelped and looked around her scared.
"Slaves? People are stealing others off the streets? Plague!? is...is that what happened to..." she didn't finish that sentence. It wouldn't make sense anyways. That area was quarantined.
'Alright so...so...we're in the 'Ladies Ward' As long as we stay here...we should be fine...right? I mean this place doesn't look so bad...' she slowly let go of Bonez arm. She took a few steps in her fabulous Louboutin heels as she picked up the hem of her dress so that way it wouldn't drag.
Danika closed her eye's 'Damn it...all I wanted to do was to find a nice place to relax after getting dump off here. Now I have to worry about all this other s**t...' Danika clutched her purse closer to her and then opened up her eye's. Hidden within the only thing on her in her purse was a gun. Now Danika by no means was a fighter. She wasn't crass nor the 'tough b***h' type but her dad had tried. He tried to teach her how to do slightly more tomboy-ish things as a child which only further pushed her to do more feminine things. This was the only time in her life was she ever thankful that her father had forced her to go hunting with him. Danika hated guns though despite knowing how to use one and frankly...she handle them like the plague. She smell of a smoking gun was revolting to her senses. She remembered a time when her father shot off a few rounds...she had pulled out a bottle of perfume and started spritzing the air. Still, if it was to save her life...she might be able to produce some balls and courage and use it right.

Turning to Bonez she smiled putting on a face 'Alright well..since we are practically stuck in this ward because I don't wish to go back to the Cherry until that stalker is gone, let's just...pick a place here. Let's pick a decent bar...and at that point..if you want your free from me. I won't force you to come shopping with me' the last thing she wanted to do was to get anyone else into trouble.

[Trexasle]

"Bonez"

HE nearly had his arm, pulled off by the lady again. Did she HAVE to overreact like that? a sweat drop framed on his head and he began to pinch the bridge of his nose with his other hand. "Look It's fine Dani, As long as we are not dumb enough to go near that pub we're fine okay?" He said with a simple nod, she had nothing to worry about right now, and her overreaction was beginning to actually tick him off a bit. Not that he hasn't met a female like that before, if he did, he probably did not remember.

"Oh I don't mind staying along with you, but I thought you said you wanted to get something to wear yes?" He asked crossing his arm, or attempting to place his bone of a hand in his pocket. "Well if so, how about we go shopping first, and then we found a tavern or bar of the sorts, I doubt nothing will interfere with your shopping correct?"

[The Vansin]

[The Guildhall Ward > The Mage's District > Soren's Tower]

Leftoverture

The dark mage never stopped whispering.

Thunk!

The blow slammed the Thoqqua into the ground. The weapon did not fully slay the creature, instead sinking respectably far into its rocky exterior and eliciting a tortured screech. The struck earth-worm squirmed violently under the pinning blow, while its kin leaped to attack. The second Thoqqua flew directly over the summoned warrrior-devil's shoulder, landing with a heavy thud on the stairs in front of Soren. It shrieked in rage and waved its spear-like beak at the wizard.

The second Thoqqua sunk its blade into the devil's shoulder, something which would cause a knee-jerk response from the fiend, forcing it to lose its pin on the Thoqqua it had struck with its weapon.

Meanwhile, the darkly dressed men at the door took a step back as they saw the devil summoned. The tiefling involuntarily hissed, for his nature was demonic, and something deep and instinctual in him wiped his mind clean of reason and hesitance. His fiendish heritage boiled his blood and reddened his eyes. His parted lips let roil the elongated fangs which framed his forked tongue.

"Boss?" one of the humans said.

"Напад тоа, робови, рипувате своите очи, празникот на неговото срце!" the tiefling screamed. His voice had grown into a vicious sound like dozens of claws screeching against chalkboards, like singing, screaming children.

Suddenly the creature's hands, curling at his sides, began to hiss with a growing energy. Black and deep violet energy began to wrap around his fingers, eventually widening to encompass a vaguely circular area in the air around his hands.

This had never happened before.

Perhaps if this plane-touched creature had ever met its true master, he might have learned the power of its heritage sooner, but he had only ever received his orders through intermediaries. No one aside from Soren, however, would be able to determine what exactly was happening to him.

Soren, on the other hand, would quickly be able to diagnose the burgeoning powers of a warlock, a creature who channeled latent energy from their powerful heritage, warlocks were spellcasters who learned to let fly blasts of raw magical energy. They could be dangerous, though they lacked the discipline and competency of a trained mage.

None of the men noticed the female observing them, nor did they notice any of the other men and women who were stopped in the streets like deer in the headlights. Clearly something very dangerous was going on inside of the wizard's tower, and it was doing so too loudly to be ignored.

______________________________

Laurana Grimm

[Morwen Alvitr]

Danika Jones

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Location: Ladies ward ~ Outfit

She paused looking at him with that look on her face of surprise. No one had ever given her a nickname before. He called her Dani, and coming from him...she didn't know why but she kind of liked it. She relaxed to the tone of his voice and his certainty of his laid back exterior as he placed his hands to his pockets. He was going to move forward as planned and accompany her to shop.
Smiling softly she nodded her head and smiled, large and genuine, enthusiastically.
'Right...Sorry. It's just that I am not from around here ya know? All this scary stuff just doesn't happen where I am from. Makes me feel like food for the crows" she rubbed the back of her head.

"Anyways, let's go then" Danika turned slowly and began to walk further into the ward taking a look around. The more and more she walked on the more and more she was falling in love with this place! It was a well groomed sort of place and she could tell that the things for sale were higher end made with quality. Danika had slipped into a few stores...this would be the part where the montage happens where Danika drags the poor man (bonez) to some of the most embarrassing, ridiculous, places. She makes him try on, she teases him, she makes him carry her stuff, hold things for her. It's the moments where she would make a fool of herself and laugh it off like some 90's sitcom. Yeah...none of that happened. Instead Danika choose a few stores for today to look into. Stores she felt she could actually drop some cash at and since Bonez didn't NEED to eat and she did she almost made sure to snack. When all was said and done she was kind of tired. She was ready to find herself a nice tavern or something, anything with beds to rest and have a few drinks at.
Bonez may not know much about this place but he'd know more than her that was for sure. Stopped off at a bench she set her bags down a moment.
'So, any suggestions as to where we should go now?" she asked him.