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

[Artimul]

Artimul turned after belching loudly. He watched the mortal man run off much faster then Artimul knew he could. He turned back to the direction he had previously chosen to take... nothing changed his mind, not when he got started. Not even himself.

" If this is all that inhabits this place... I might have to be... nice for once." He said with a shrug. It was true, Artimul preferred to fight on losing sides, to bring chaos to what was worked so hard to achieve. He felt that many wicked ones were trying to oppress the mundane here, and he decided in that instant, that he would take the backs of the meek. He cringed at the thought, helping the good wasn't his cup of tea. They always tried to act above him due to their self righteous bullshit, which created problems. Artimul was a God back where he came from, maybe not here... but why change his persona for a bunch of weaklings? He would scout out further this world, see what it had to offer. He noticed something was strange... only a few of his powers were amplified, and the rest were nerfed... He would immediately seek whatever Deity made this realm it's land and he would demand respects for his presence... after all, he doubted they had ever seen a Djinn High God amongst the populace, humbling itself by merely breathing the rancid air and so much as viewing the repulsive scenery they called architecture.

" Bullshit... All bullshit." He muttered in a real deep voice he rarely used. He was brooding now. Just yesterday he had been shot dead in the face and felt his life on Telford was misused... that he could've been a better leader, he could've helped those people. He ruined it with his arrogance, but this was all he knew... even before Tazali. How he missed the Drow he had mated with. That was years ago, but only an hour or so in his mind. He was used to his lovers dying, or going away left, right and center. He knew he moved on seconds ago in his mind. He had to, for his daughter... but none of that mattered now. He had no purpose here, in fact he had no idea how he came here... he was supposed to go to his homeworld upon his death on Telford. What the hell happened? Who cursed him and called upon him? He would wreck the fool that summoned him... virtually damage them so bad he might just destroy everything he knew in the process. His temper was deep, and his mercy shallow. A time bomb just wandering the streets aimlessly. Finally he blinked twice and glanced around.

" Hear me! Foul ones who called upon me! Send me home or die! You made a mistake, trust me... but it is not too late to save yourselves..." He said the last part with a hiss and a grin. His anger always brought out the energy in him, causing the hissing noise he made.

[SpiritArcanis]

Jace Arcanis

The Ruined Mages Guild - Above the Heart of Oblivion

Jace screamed once more in agony and then the spell fire collapsed back into his skin, drawn down back into his core, to his center, to his control. Black hair, as though charred by the magic was left where once it shone brilliant white, and the blue of his eyes was cracked through with spiderwebs of darkness. He wore a sleeveless robe of black, the dancing energy of the wyrd, patterned with the azure blue fire of his magic. His pants were simple black in the same fashion, apparently in the type of leather, though made from no material found common. Boots and fingerless gloves made from the same magical energy made up the ensemble as he wrenched his body to its feet.

The urge to lash out was strong, near overwhelming, and his wyrd infused soul reacted to his need by giving him the tool. A black long sword erupted into being coalescing from the wyrd smoke he had given off so recently. It was unique of design, a wedge blossoming out into three separate edges. No single edge was clean, or straight, and the rear of the blade the branching edges formed a sort of trough. Jace glanced at it and understanding flared, with it came the clean azure light of his spell fire erupting down the length of the trough. He turned the blade and then lashed out at a place safe from repercussion, a splash of blue fire erupted from the blade at the apex of its swing.

The fire of raw magic, unleashed on stone was devastating and it caused more of the stone to crumble falling into the pit of oblivion. Ah yes, the pit, the oblivion of all things waits beyond, and here at the heart, the crucible of magic, my maker abandoned me, and allowed me to attain my own shape. Jace glanced back up into the arching heart of the mages guild and began to gather his power. From the sword blue fire flowed down into the ground etching a clean circle from the stone they stood on.

Wyrd power lashed out next tracing the same circle in the opposite direction reinforcing the circle of power he was going to build. Next he slammed the blade into the exact center of the circle and stepped back out of it, careful not to obscure the carefully drawn lines. Blue fire erupted in his right hand, and the strange black of the wyrd reacted to his desires gathering like cracking lightning in his left.

With them he unleashed his power on the circle, for it to draw on, and build, laying into it, intent and desire, the seed which he would nourish and make grow. Blue light and black cascaded around the circle and the sword erupted with black lightning and blue fire, and he began the careful process of infusing his power circle with as much energy as he would need. The business of a slighted mage, was dangerous to those not standing with him.

[Erection of a circle to build power, one charge each Wyrd, and Spell Fire.]

[Boon of the circle - A circle built to contain and build power, allows a caster to gather energy at a much faster rate, and without the risk of the charges draining off. A circle also keeps what is within in, and what is without, out, until the mage desires it.]

“The Great Absolute”

“Arbitrary Fate”

“Deus Ex Aizen”

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

Artimul

A time bomb just wandering the streets aimlessly. Finally he blinked twice and glanced around.

" Hear me! Foul ones who called upon me! Send me home or die! You made a mistake, trust me... but it is not too late to save yourselves..." He said the last part with a hiss and a grin. His anger always brought out the energy in him, causing the hissing noise he made.

The Guildhall Ward

_______The debt collector lay as a charred corpse upon the ground and not a single individual moved to loot the body or regard it even as a curiosity. Individuals in Sigil either did not want to die or simply did not want the trouble. Artimul would feel something far stranger than the absence of access to his most potent abilities. It was the palpable sense that he no longer stood above the rest, that he no longer stood as a god but in this place he was just another man. The aura's of beings whom legitimately could prove a threat to him were scattered all over the massive metropolis who's titanic size would dwarf him. The world did not end in a distant horizon of which only supernatural perceptions such as that of his third eye could see. Instead, the torus shaped world curled up, over and around such that he could look up and see the grey endless waste of the Hive and the golden city who sat in its center protected by a veil of magic who's potency would alert Artimul to the fact that in this place he was one of many.

_______So like just another man, he would go ignored for a while as he shouted. People carried on with their business or wisely kept to themselves while avoiding him. He would in this time get the sense that no one at all had called him here and like many others in the city he was here simply by chance. No one would pay him any mind for a long while until the unfamiliar sense of loneliness touched even his godly magic infused mind. Eventually however, someone would seem to notice him.

"<Hey you...>", she said in the Abyssal tongue in a voice that stood out from the constant hum of a million voices.

_______A sultry feminine voice called out from a nearby cafe. His eyes would find a short lithe female tiefling dressed in form fitting leather armor. Dark bronze Horns struck out through her mane of short cropped raven black hair. Amber eyes smoldered like hellfire as they examined Artimul. Her arms were crossed in front of her petite bosom as she leaned against the cafe' wall. Kylie knew the look of someone who was not from the City of Doors, as any good tout (Sigil word for Guide) would. This one looked particularly crazy but she didn't mind crazy, as long as he had coin to pay her for her services.

[Artimul]

((crazy... get that alot ))

Artimul turned his attention towards the being who spoke in a language he had not heard in a long time. His raven hair flying back now as he approached, seemingly longer now... but only an optical illusion. His Theshra blinked at her then stared emptily.

He remembered how to speak such a language, and prepped himself to speak such a thing.

" You see me? It has been like nobody knows I'm here... what is this place?" He asked in her language. He had long forgotten the name of Abyssal, but he was familiar with it enough... although he may have sounded autistic just now in a way on accident. The Theshra blinked again now once he got closer and examined this woman... nothing came to Artimul. So he shut one yellow eye, and looked at her with just his other and the Theshra now... making a weird face for him. Could he still go Setra form if he needed to? He might have to find out.

Artimul stood across from her now, on the other side of the entrance, sizing her up. This was not a full blooded demon, he could sense... something else lurked within, or so he thought. Unimportant now, he pushed away the thought of her body. As that sort of thing only served to amuse a God once in a great while, he had learned to think of it as this all the time... entertainment. He was here on business, not pleasure obviously.

Tres Ecstuffuan

[Deus Ex Aizen]

─ R a v e e n a L a v e n d r a S e n a r i a ─────────────────────────── ♋ ─ ─ ─

Fire burned before them, roiling flames flaring up from the ground. The flickering of flames danced within her blue eyes as though they were the hottest of flames. There was a moment, with her caught in the energy of the fight that a force wrought pain on her. A horrible, splitting headache that nearly crumbled her. She cringed, crying out in pain as Jace's connection back-lashed on the Empath. Enforcers rushed to her side but she brushed them off as the pain ebbed away. Jace Rosharin was here somewhere, somewhere that her connection was not cut off from. It was a shift--a metamorphosis that only she could bear witness to through the direct contact she had with Jace from some time prior. Steeling a moment to recover and breathlessly reassure her subordinates she could continue, Raveena nodded assent to move ahead. Advancing forward, the Empress wasted no time as she rushed forward, leaping past fire and slag--of things twisted and metal and burning. She skid on her heels along rubble tucking the bolter pistol between ribs and arm, then slammed the crystal sword into the ground. A clear-cut song reverberated as it struck the surface, drawing the ire of three more Infiltrators that sought to descend upon her like a pack of ravenous dogs.

Timing was everything; there was a tense moment to her poise as Raveena waited, the distance closing in as barbed wire twisted and coiled with sinister intent. Raveena grasped the hilt of the sword with her right hand and snapped her left leg and heel against the knee of an Infiltrator, kicking up for a second higher kick to the solar plexus. She used the height of the sword to lean against while kicking up the right leg and heel for a third high kick to the solar plexus as the second Infiltrator breached into closer range, the first stumbling back. The third Infiltrator had Raveena setting the pistol down and unsheathing the sword from the ground. Pressed along her left arm for balance, the Empress snapped the blade up, catching the underside of the third Infiltrator's chin before the sword slid from its stable position and slipped from her grasp to clatter on the ground. The flames behind them pressed heat to her back; she shrugged the warmed, slashed leather jacket she wore off, perspiration beading at her temples to mingle with dirt and blood. From the sensual curve of her shoulder and down along her left arm to the broken hand that slowly mended itself, the skin refracted light, the flickering of flames against the scars she wore: the torn skin from a Hell Hound's bite, and a very terrible accident that tore into her left arm. Taut muscles rippled with power as she prepared her second assault.

Grasping the sword once more, Raveena cried out vivaciously. The familiar flow of pattern dances returned, years of muscle memory at work as she became a fluid series of pirouettes that cut down at the three Infiltrators with a brilliant flash of green crystal. Between them and around them the Empress danced; she danced with them with such practiced graceful, the lethal speed of her propulsion allowing the Crystal blade to impale the second Infiltrator, shattering the orb to extinguish the soul within it. The blade turned to behead the third Infiltrator with a powerful swing that did not hit its mark in full. She felt the sickening thunk of blade permeate skin and meet solid matter, lodging the blade against the 'neck'. Drawing back she cut deeply to wound the heinous creature, whose skin peeled back to reveal its vulnerable orb. Within seconds Raveena vanquished it before kneeling to release the sword as she grasped the pistol. Timing was everything and she was no stranger to a firearm. The shot rang out, the recoil lurching her back with such force she was sure as she twisted back that her arm would be sore and bruised by the end of it all. There would be no orb to reveal as the shot blew a massive hole into the first Infiltrator that came at her, its body crumbling to the ground.

Raveena paused for a moment, yet only for a moment as she put the safety on and stood. She only glanced over her shoulder before she could feel the white-hot connection to the fire that raged behind her from the attack of the Colossus. A connection she could not have easily grabbed before. It was solid way to communicate to the Element, flames racing along the ground, arching into the air with their seductive, flickering forms. To the Elementalist they raced, eager to assist and abide by her requests. Flames engulfed the three mangled bodies of the Infiltrators. The burning slag cooled as Raveena called upon the element at her disposal. Forward she would advance as the pistol cooled, tucking the firearm in the only place she could holster it. The rapidly cooling metal pressed along her spine as she took up the sword in her right hand, paving a way for her fellow Enforcers. The wild woman carved into the carnage, wielding the pistol sparingly as she preferred to slay their heinous adversaries with the sword.

Every spare shot she would need for the Colossus who loomed overhead--threatening their very existence. Her blurred form stood still, the kinetic energy dispersing into the ground which cracked beneath her heels. "Let's GO!" She bellowed, her voice carrying across the field in command.

─ ─────────────────────────── ─ ─ ─

☽ ♋ ☾

Quote:

Fierach

Tres Escuffaun

Glory Sieg

Scalar Warfare

Not Roen

LADY KAMA SUCCUBOSS"[/quote]

SpiritArcanis

xnw0446d:24="SpiritArcanis

Lian Feaorne

[THE TINA DARLING]

Red the Ambivalent

As the man scurried off Tina couldn't help but still seeth with rage wanting nothing less than to simply kill him but instead refused her primal urges and let him go. After a moment she stood brushing herself off and finishing by holding her side with a pained cringe sucking in air with a sharp gasp through her teeth. Looking down at her side the clothing she wore hid her skin but it didn't stop her from craning slightly to try and get a look. The pain was pretty bad, and as she continued along it only got worse. It had been hours since she took a break and could feel every once of her body begging her to sit, eat, and drink. Possibly even sleep if she were to wind down, but instead was found in this weird situation where two victims were left to pick up the pieces. If anything it prompted quick bonding to at least find a solution for a common problem.

Her own eyes, unique in their own way, with dim glowing crystal blue orbs within near black cornea coupled with unique clothing and with what looked to be perfectly symmetrical tattoos on either side of her body, arms and legs. She stood weighed down with shoulder packs, a large travel backpack, and slings for various things. She looked to have every one of her belongings carried upon her body. Long bare legs stood out from under her oversized jacket with only hemp sandals tied around each foot. At first glance she would look as any typical middle class commoner however she carried herself more similar to country folk. Not quite completely uneducated but hardy, and experienced for her age. A trait many of those of her lands shared; war, shifts in ruling kings, and defending themselves from the ever encroaching wild lands just beyond their protective wooden walls. Life and death situations on a regular basis aged even the most softest of hearts quickly and effectively. If not, survival would be less likely for the long term.

As Morgan began scooping up the stolen goods, she too helped placing the things one at a time in her arms, quietly keeping to herself she looked up as the other woman introduced herself, offering a friendly smile pausing ever so slightly to give polite attention to her new found ally in victim-hood. With a cheery voice she through off her sour mood and as if like turning on a light switch regained her composure and held a friendly vibe, "Nice to meet ya Morgan, most folks call me Tina." while remaining crouched she made a half lunge to get closer to the other and held out a free hand for a greeting. It wasslightly clumsily balancing the things within her other arm but still managed to offer the greeting all the same.

Looking around for a moment her unique eyes fell back upon Morgan, "Can't say I know where I am. Quite literally fell through a doorway into... well... here just a few minutes ago. I reckon that fellah knew I looked like a stray cat lost in a room full-ah rockers." she chuckled to herself before finishing, "Bet I had my damned mouth open an' every-thin'." her country dialect very thick.

[Better Than Gore]

arrow The Hive.
Empyrae.

Kane's onslaught wouldn't stop at Stieg's crushed head, no, the General deserved much more, so much more, Kane's endless blood thirst would present itself at this very moment. As the Biker's boot came crashing down, a mighty roar bellowed from Ursan's Champion, the hand that wielded Stieg's arm swung wildly and unmercifully, colliding with what remained of the General's body. Even missing every once in awhile, smacking against the ground around Stieg's motionless body with a thump. Kane would beat him until his arm grew tired, or until Ursan spoke, whichever came first.

But then something came over him, just like before, with the other Demon he had slain. Kane felt an uncontrollable urge to eat, to devour, and would find himself tossing Stieg's arm aside. Stomping down on the General's chest, applying enough blunt force to crack the plate, from there, a hand would be slipped into the small gap his pressure caused. Ripping with all of his might, enough room would be created for his opposite hand to assist, so it too, would grab the closest side of armor and pull. Ripping the armor in half like a shirt that one of Kane's favorite escorts once wore. Uncontrollably, Kane dug into the General's chest, like a starved man grabbing handfuls of mash potatoes. Stuffing his face without realizing just how pathetic he looked. Gluttony.

YummyBiscuits

"Come here, Kane, come close. Touch the blade, would you?"

Staring over at Ursan, Kane would attempt to wipe his mouth of the blackened blood that stained his borders, though his hands were also covered in it. Just furthering the disgusting mess plastered on his face, the Biker would approach Ursan and reach out with his right hand. Touching the blade briefly before taking hold of the hilt, grasping it with a white knuckle grip, he'd hear the voices speak to him. Were they the voices of those who Stieg had slain? Shaking that thought from his head, Kane would wield the sword like it was made for him, and as far as he was concerned, it was. Then Ursan took hold of his shoulder. Every injury he received during the two fights, would magically vanish, and Kane would feel the negative energy course through his body.

YummyBiscuits

"I've given you the chance to be something greater than you once were. I've given you a second chance at life. I want to see you do something with this chance, Kane, and I expect better."

Ouch. Ursan had just watched Kane slay two Demon's, one after the other, and he wasn't pleased? Kane wouldn't put any thought into Ursan's comment, instead, he simply nodded. "As you wish, Lord Ursan."

[Arbitrary Fate]

XXDimirisXX

Dimiris let out a long, tired breath as she set her cell phone down on the table in front of her and ran a hand over her face. Life had not been going so well lately for the maenad mercenary. Her last contract had ended in less than ideal circumstances making it hard to get another, and to be honest she had thought that she could use a change of scenery after everything that had happened. From the list of limited options Sigil had seemed like the best; after all, in a city that infamous there had to be somebody hiring. Of course, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the chaos she had decided to walk into. Not to mention that she had seemed to arrive just in time for the bloody Apocalypse.

And to make things even “better” there was now some random guy shouting threats to seemingly everyone in the area. Dimiris glanced up, watching with idle interest as she tried to pin him down. The talk about saving themselves could possibly suggest street preacher, but the rest implied insane. And as far as she was concerned neither were really good options.

Not my problem, she thought to herself as she glanced down at the café menu she had grabbed, mostly so that it would look like she was busy while she checked to see if the messages she had sent out had gotten any response than with the intention of actually ordering anything. Despite the time she wasn’t hungry, and in any case the prices here were a little too high for her at the moment. At the same time she continued to keep an eye on the shouting guy and the tiefling who had approached him. While he had seemed to have stopped said shouting for the moment, she still wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t going to create trouble.

Making this somewhat easier was the fact that she was close enough, and they loud enough, that she was able to hear part of the conversation. As they talked she continued to play with her cheap phone, until Artimul mentioned how nobody seemed to know him. Without thinking about it Dimiris snorted, then almost instantly winced as she realized what she had done. Well, so much for not getting involved…

Well, there was nothing for it now; she figured that it was better just to run with it. ”Oh, we know you’re here. You’re hard to ignore when you go around shouting at everybody,” she said, her alto voice carrying more than a touch of a sardonic edge. Like the other two she spoke in Abyssal, however judging from how stilted the sentences came out it was clear that she was far from a natural with it. The accent would not help matters; the language of fire and brimstone did not mesh well with Aquan pronunciations, and it showed in every word she uttered.
X

Location: Guildhall Ward

Artimul

Tres Ecstuffuan

[Artimul]

Artimul heard a snort and some sarcasm from a woman in the cafe. He stayed focused on the Tiefling, but his Theshra relocated so it could face Dimiris, staring at her. A mouth full of razor sharp teeth was exposed for a moment when he smirked. " Better to go heard, then unseen..." He replied. His swords dangled ever so heavily from his silken sash. He pondered for only a moment blowing this whole structure to smithereens, over her attitude... but since he did not know this demon nor the stranger at all he figured it wise to find out if they were dangerous enough to be enemies, or even allies... whichever of those, would serve him; one as fuel for his magics, the other as a puppet.

" I only desire to know this world... and I wish to speak to whatever Deity oversees it's balance. Whatever balance that is..." He muttered the last part very quietly, hoping perhaps someone or something would take offense although it was not.

He realized he was not speaking abyssal anymore though, and had slipped back into the common tongue. He knew many languages, including what these people spoke in. Only he had never been to a realm where they spoke these.

"You try being a God and not knowing something, child... trust me it would bother you." He said to her. His usual deep voice carried, so he knew privacy in conversation amongst the Tiefling was futile in this place. He accepted it since he figured he brought no threats, not yet at least.

Arbitrary Fate

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

Arbitrary Fate

XXDimirisXX

Dimiris let out a long, tired breath as she set her cell phone down on the table in front of her and ran a hand over her face. Life had not been going so well lately for the maenad mercenary. Her last contract had ended in less than ideal circumstances making it hard to get another, and to be honest she had thought that she could use a change of scenery after everything that had happened. From the list of limited options Sigil had seemed like the best; after all, in a city that infamous there had to be somebody hiring. Of course, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the chaos she had decided to walk into. Not to mention that she had seemed to arrive just in time for the bloody Apocalypse.

And to make things even “better” there was now some random guy shouting threats to seemingly everyone in the area. Dimiris glanced up, watching with idle interest as she tried to pin him down. The talk about saving themselves could possibly suggest street preacher, but the rest implied insane. And as far as she was concerned neither were really good options.

Not my problem, she thought to herself as she glanced down at the café menu she had grabbed, mostly so that it would look like she was busy while she checked to see if the messages she had sent out had gotten any response than with the intention of actually ordering anything. Despite the time she wasn’t hungry, and in any case the prices here were a little too high for her at the moment. At the same time she continued to keep an eye on the shouting guy and the tiefling who had approached him. While he had seemed to have stopped said shouting for the moment, she still wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t going to create trouble.

Making this somewhat easier was the fact that she was close enough, and they loud enough, that she was able to hear part of the conversation. As they talked she continued to play with her cheap phone, until Artimul mentioned how nobody seemed to know him. Without thinking about it Dimiris snorted, then almost instantly winced as she realized what she had done. Well, so much for not getting involved…

Well, there was nothing for it now; she figured that it was better just to run with it. ”Oh, we know you’re here. You’re hard to ignore when you go around shouting at everybody,” she said, her alto voice carrying more than a touch of a sardonic edge. Like the other two she spoke in Abyssal, however judging from how stilted the sentences came out it was clear that she was far from a natural with it. The accent would not help matters; the language of fire and brimstone did not mesh well with Aquan pronunciations, and it showed in every word she uttered.
X

Location: Guildhall Ward

Artimul

Tres Ecstuffuan

Artimul

Artimul heard a snort and some sarcasm from a woman in the cafe. He stayed focused on the Tiefling, but his Theshra relocated so it could face Dimiris, staring at her. A mouth full of razor sharp teeth was exposed for a moment when he smirked. " Better to go heard, then unseen..." He replied. His swords dangled ever so heavily from his silken sash. He pondered for only a moment blowing this whole structure to smithereens, over her attitude... but since he did not know this demon nor the stranger at all he figured it wise to find out if they were dangerous enough to be enemies, or even allies... whichever of those, would serve him; one as fuel for his magics, the other as a puppet.

" I only desire to know this world... and I wish to speak to whatever Deity oversees it's balance. Whatever balance that is..." He muttered the last part very quietly, hoping perhaps someone or something would take offense although it was not.

He realized he was not speaking abyssal anymore though, and had slipped back into the common tongue. He knew many languages, including what these people spoke in. Only he had never been to a realm where they spoke these.

"You try being a God and not knowing something, child... trust me it would bother you." He said to her. His usual deep voice carried, so he knew privacy in conversation amongst the Tiefling was futile in this place. He accepted it since he figured he brought no threats, not yet at least.

Arbitrary Fate

THe Guildhall Ward

______The Tiefling stood up from the wall suddenly feeling uncomfortable. She turned and looked at the Maenad Mercenary behind her who spoke her native tongue with a strange accent that she could not place. She regarded Dimiris for a moment, thinking that she looked familiar. Though perhaps kylie was getting her confused with another of their kind. She looked back at Artimul and noted that he was making some strange face at her. She stepped to the side, feeling uncomfortable as the third eye peered inside of her. Once she was out from between the Artimul and Dimiris's banter, she was made even more confused when Artimul referred to himself as a god.

Who is this guy?, the tiefling thought.

"You must have been buggered by an Illithid, there's only one power in Sigil and that is the Lady of Pain. The powers stay out of the city by her decree and there is no seeing her, there is no conversing with her, to invite her attention is to invite destruction. Do...you two know each other?", she said in common, her accent thick with the planar cant referring to the back and fourth between him and the Maenad.

[Knight Breaker]

[NPC MODE ACTIVATE]

[Artimul]

Artimul licked his teeth inside his mouth, feeling the needle like stabbing against his tongue as he slid it around, ignoring the pain. This was the usual way of handling his stresses...

" I am not familiar with the name... I am Artimul, High God of Harquiem, reshaper of the Dark Djinn of the threads, and a Hajichi by soul. I am not from this plane of existence. Last place I was, I took a bullet to my brain... Here I am." He said. Hajichi were not usually called upon, so he was beginning to doubt this 'Lady of Pain' or whomever they were was the summoner. He also doubted even a typical summoner could manage to manipulate the planar threads that wove the universes together in order to bring him here, and restore him without having to rebirth.

" I would relate to this Lady, considering I destroyed somewhere around twenty million mortal souls, devoured them all... then made a planet sized quake that nearly split it in half. All in under ten minutes... If she is of destruction. I may be her best friend..." He added.

His body had already aged to its mature stages, and a rebirth was coming... likely soon. The coughing had not started quite yet. Thankful for that, since he did not wish to 'die' around strangers. He usually did not explain anything to anyone, including those he trusted... but the demon seemed particularly in need of some explaining. Perhaps she would hold some way of taking him to this Pain God.

"What in Zekarta is an Illithid?" He asked, ignoring the fact they would not know of the world he mentioned. It could be taken as slang then.

Tres Ecstuffuan

[last RP he was in he did that stuff.... my RPCs are realtime, what they do in RPs effects them in others later...]

[Arbitrary Fate]

XXDimirisXX

As Artimul turned towards her the maenad stood, revealing her full height to be just over six feet. Her build was muscular, a fact that the hardened leather armor did nothing to hide. Covering most of her tan face and traveling down her neck were what at first glance would look like tattoos done in blue ink, though a closer glance would show that the designs caught the half-light of the city and sparkled faintly like no normal ink would. Her hair was short and dark brown, the same color as her eyes which were now focused entirely on Artimul, the guide momentarily forgotten.

As he smirked at her, revealing pointed teeth, Dimiris gave him a wolfish grin in return. Yet despite the confident look her eyes were calculating, noting quickly the swords hanging from his sash. Ever so slightly her body shifted, bracing herself if he decided to make a move. Unlike him she carried no visible weapon, though the psionic power within and around her suggested that perhaps she didn’t really need one.

Dimiris raised a skeptical eyebrow at his next words. Unless she was very much mistaken, he had just declared that he was a deity. ”Oh, a god,” she said, sarcastic tone still firmly in place. ”Sorry if I don’t seem particularly impressed. I mean,” she continued. ”You really don't look like a god.” By now Dimiris had made up her mind about this newcomer: he was nuts. She could buy that he was a powerful demon or something, gods knew that didn’t seem all that uncommon here, but a god was on a completely different level. And it wasn’t like she really had any reason to believe him. If she did she might not have appeared so cocky as she spoke to him—thought then again, perhaps not.

In any case, upon hearing the tiefling’s question she glanced over at her. ”Not really, no,” she said, a bit of forced cheer in her voice. Turning back to Artimul, she said: ”I’m Dimiris. Mercenary.” It was a simple statement, one that she felt suited her. She had no need for titles, or other long introductions; they felt like a distraction.

As Artimul spoke, Dimiris cocked her head slightly as she listened to how he had gotten here. It was an interesting story, to say the least. It also didn’t, as far as she was concerned, add up. If he had taken a bullet then he should be dead, or at the very least have some sort of wound. And the idea that he was capable of killing twenty million seemed simply absurd.

”All right, I’ll bite. How does a god who can kill twenty million get taken down by a mere bullet?” she asked, her expression and tone betraying clearly how skeptical she was of this claim.
X

Location: Guildhall Ward

Artimul

Tres Ecstuffuan

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

The Guildhall Ward

_____The tiefling guide took just one look at the Maenad mercenary demeris with her and she knew immediately that Dimiris was not someone to be tried. She knew the predatory grin of a wolf and knew what was soon to follow. The Maenad's were known to be naturally psionic with an inner rage and their skill in naval combat held them to be fierce pirates upon the sea's of distant worlds. Compared to the six foot tall woman Kylie was tiny. She looked back at the man she thought to make her client and knew felt the desire to save the "god" from his own insanity. Perhaps this was not a man to travel with within the city of doors, but Kylie never wanted to see a clueless berk dealt with by the cities powerful denizens. Artimuli might have been insane and it was all the more reason to want to save him from himself.

______She turned to look back at Artimuli.

"Its a Mind Flayer, you know, tentacles, from the future...eh...but nevermind that now...", nervously the guide wracked her mind for the words to defuse the situation and get Artimuli to move on.

"I'm a guide for the city, maybe I can take you to a nice buffet and we can see who can eat the most souls eh?", asked with equal skepticism in his claim.

______She would attempt to take Artimuli by the hand and move pull him away from the presence of the Maenad.

Arbitrary Fate

Artimul

[Artimul]

Artimul sighed at the question asked by the Maened. " Very carefully, and forcefully. Even the fool knows a God cannot perform as such when out of his realm.... and domain." He said with slight regret that he admitted a weakness, even if she might have known. His attention turned back to the tiefling speaking of squids and such things. " It is apparent we come from very different places then..."

"What is that woman?" He asked about Dimiris. His Theshra relocated to his forearm, where it usually roosted and just stared blankly into space. Out of habit, his fingers started to glow with energy as he was gaining to attack the Dimiris, howevere he caught himself doing this and Dispelled it with the Theshra immediately... a burst of light coming from the Third Eye.

" They have places where I can eat, without having to waste energy? Take me to this place, Tiefling... I know what it is you seek. What most people seek from those who look for help." He muttered tyhe last part. He took a coin purse from his sash, loosened it... and stuck his hand inside for a whole minute. When he pulled it out, he held in his hand a fistful of platinum coins marked with symbols she would have never seen before. But regardless, they were as real as himself. His hair trailed behind the two as she led him as if held by his own auras.

arbritrary Fate

Tres Ecstuffuan