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 Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 7:25 pm
 ℭROSS ☪ ℜOKAIRO ❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊ Make your legacy a legend❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
He awoke with a sudden start, a jolt as the water sprinkled down onto his face from above. The cool liquid smelt as if it had been brought from a fresh spring, or perhaps an oasis, and thirsty as he was Rokairo began to drink the fluid before the luxury might be taken else where. Suddenly then the flow halted, it's last droplets dripping down from his chin onto the floor which seemed to him as if it were so far below.
"Ah," A soft voice spoke, "Finally awake. Took a long time with that dent in your head, but we wrapped it up nicely in bandages so it shouldn't be a problem." The words seemed to drift his way from a distant character, an apparition of sorts calling out towards his mind as it presented itself as relieved at his well being. Making an attempt to open his eyes however, Rokairo found that regardless of his severely blurred vision, he could tell that the one who had spoken was not so distant from him, but perhaps a few feet away.
"W...whe...whe.." Cross sputtered through the cloth, consciousness becoming a difficult task for the rogue. His company seemed to laugh at his futile attempts to communicate, leaning over forwards as if to catch themselves from falling.
"Oh ho ho, are you trying to ask ... where? Friend?" He asked politely. Friend... The word echoed through his mind as the mercenary tried to further discover where it was that he had ended up. It was quite hot...thus Rokairo came to the conclusion that he remained within Thieves Haven, and yet it seemed less so than before, and without the bite of the sands...he must be inside. Taking a few steps forwards the mysterious figure tugged at his arms bringing him close so that even the slightly conscious man could hear his words well.
"My friend...you are within the Jinshou's fortress..." The man laughed aloud, shock flooding through the warrior which momentarily slipped into a state of panic. Soon the blur of his vision subsided, and before him he beheld a man clad in light golden armor, an orange cloth wrapped about his head though not upon the mouth as most had done, and a long dark jacket resting upon his shoulders. "And I am known as Sadrir, shogun of the south...." Rokairo attempted to lash out at the man, who clearly would hold vile intent upon one who had murdered three of their own, but to his misfortune, the Falcon found that his legs were tied together by the ankle , and his wrists wrapped in course rope which hung him from the high ceiling. Bound and gagged, the mercenary wobbled about like a pendulum for all his efforts.
"Haha pathetic, to even try to escape in such a condition is a fool's ambition." Sadrir snickered, his thin beard showing of a man who had recently shaven with his blade yet neglected to maintain such standards. Digging into his own sand laden pocket, the Jinshou removed a small glinting trinket, something which appeared intricately crafted, and quite dazzling even from a distance.
"Now friend, I found something quite interesting about you...the tales of your deeds and skills... It seems that you know of dengen, three skills I hear. The first, to craft iron of fog, to appear as an army alone, and the third..." Sadrir paused, seeming to take upon himself a scowl less suiting to his features as the warrior strode closer, his golden armor plates shifting to reflect the dim light of a small crack in the wall. "Now the Jinshou are the masters of wind, we beat our drums and Fujjin dances to our songs....but to call the wind with a voice...we cannot do so easily. The gentle voice of a mother...and the skill of a father however...certainly that would guide Fujjin to guard a man would it not." He spoke coming so closely to Rokairo's face that he would have spat upon the samurai's eye had he not a sour cloth bound tightly into his jaw.
Raising the ring before both their gazes the man continued his monologue. "I am grateful for this gift friend, thus you shall have a warrior's execution by dawn...You should be proud, for most do not share in our manner of death." He laughed, the shogun finally exiting the room. Frantically the rogue's eyes darted about the room. His armor was gone, his weapons gone, his dengen items and his dengen with them...gone. All he was left with was the pants which they'd been kind enough to leave him and the bandages which wrapped up the concussion he'd suffered some time ago.
Knoxing Jinshou...
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
◤Awakened by water among the sands...◥
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 10:16 pm
 Reaver kept running until he found a place to rest. What he found was a surprisingly deserted alley between a few buildings. This place will suffice for now. thought Reaver as he leaned up against one of the walls. He then reached inside of his bag and pulled out his book, and a quill and ink pot. He opened up his book, dipped the quill in the ink, and began to write. He scripted the words "twenty bits" onto the page and put the quill down. He then put his hand above the word, and pulled the words off of the page using dengen. He began to focus, making sure to add as many details as he could. He then focused on weight, shape, diameter, density, shine, and of a few bent and dented coins. After a minute, the process was done, in his hands was a small pile of twenty coins. That should be enough to pay my way onto a ship headed to the grand port. If needed, i can promise them more when the voyage was over. thought Reaver as he put the coins in his bag. He then gathered up his items and put them in the bag as well. Reaver than stood up and looked around, so as to make sure he wasn't cornered. After making sure the coast was clear, he started to walk towards the docks.
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Posted: Wed Jan 16, 2013 11:17 pm
Victor Gadd
* * *
Bounty Hunter Mercy was a rare thing in Thieves Haven. The desert, the inhabitants, and even the animals had an edge of hostility at all times. Victor considered himself simply lucky that when he leapt off the ship onto the sand coated docks that the storm had subsided for the time being. Doors were opening as the dirt covered inhabitants of the city resumed their daily triles. The bounty hunter was experiencing an unpleasant feeling of deja vu. He was back to square one: at the docks, looking into the city, wondering how on earth he was meant to find Cross Rokairo. He'd found him before on nothing but sheer dumb luck. I can scarcely hope for a miracle in this god forsaken place. But two miracles? I may as well shout out his name in hopes that he comes running. With his head low, the bounty hunter strode forward off the docks. His feet trudged through the new piles of sand on the cobblestone streets. Who knew what the sand had burried? -klunk-Victor looked down in confusion. He'd just kicked something under the sand that sounded... hollow. Currious, he plunged his fingers into the sand. They grasped a smooth, rounded object. Pulling it from the grips of the dessert, the bounty hunter became even more bewildered. A drum? He turned it over in his hands, pouring over the details. Victor had gotten into the habbit of observing ordinary items on the chance they might actually be Dengen empowerred items. Aha! He found a marking he recongnized as the markings of a Jinshou samurai. He grinned for a moment, thinking of its worth. His hands paused for a moment. A faint memory of the Falcon fighting near this area surfaced. The men had worn orange scarves. Used by the Jinshou samurai. His face paled. Unless I missed my guess, the fact that this drum is still here means the mercenary wasn't able to take it.His face paled. If the Jinshou had the Falcon, Victor would never figure out why he'd nearly died over a map. Gripping the strap of the drum, Victor ran to the nearest pub, entering and immediately questioning the owner. Presenting the drum, he asked, "Where do I find the Jinshou?"
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Posted: Fri Jan 18, 2013 7:37 pm
ℭROSS ☪ ℜOKAIRO ❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊ Make your legacy a legend❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
The room remained dimly lit by the sun, which shone brightly only through the small crack in the wall, dust filling the hot dry air falling from the high roof which creaked every time the Falcon's body shifted in the slightest. Left alone to hang where he had, the mercenary couldn't help but think to himself....they've never imprisoned me before, else they would have had more guards.... The thoughts brought a smile to his gagged mouth.
Time to move... With a sudden clenching of his abdominal section, and a swing of his bound legs the rope groaning with the sudden pull, the mercenary managed to catch a higher portion of the rope between his ankles, holding onto them tightly as he extended his feet closer to the ceiling. From there he clenched his abdominal once more, climbing with the wrapped hands towards his filthy feet, which he soon noticed smelled quite a bit like Smugglers Straight even still. Inch by inch the rough rope became slack as the mercenary climbed his way to the ceiling of the high room, and as the rogue reached the top, his thin hair scrapping against the splintery wood, the warrior finally deemed it time to let go.
Now...rope or wood? The Falcon fell, arching and turning over backwards in the fifteen foot drop, his body weight acting as a pure destructive force as the length of rope became tight in an instant, reaching it's full extension. With the full force of a muscular warrior pulled by the earth from such a height, the bindings upon his wrists tightened significantly, and yet surprisingly in that instance it was the eroded boards above which broke loose, allowing Rokairo to land flat on his back. A cloud of dust and sand shot up in a sudden plume, pushing the stray strands of straw away from the chipped clay tiles where he had landed.
Suddenly however, he found himself caught in a haze as small portions of the roofing fell through atop his torso, the affects of his former injury still lingering about his skull while he made his departure. It was a unique situation that Cross had be placed within, but as any challenge that stepped forth to great him, the mercenary refused to decline. With the strength of his will, Rokairo pushed aside the dizziness, forcing himself upon his feet to begin making his way outside of the fortress.
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
◤Awakened by water among the sands...◥
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
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Posted: Sat Jan 19, 2013 10:43 pm
ℭROSS ☪ ℜOKAIRO ❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊ Make your legacy a legend❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
The light of the halls seemed to mimic those from within the room he'd just left, strands of straw still clinging lightly to his back as he pushed softly upon the wooden door. It seemed that the city of Thieves Haven relied entirely upon the scorching sunlight of the cruel desert, utilizing torches only in the dark of night, and only alone within their humble and protected homes...after all torch bearers were among the easiest of men to sneak up behind.
Hopefully Rokairo would not require the man who stood dormant before him to wield such a light however, for in his condition he would need to remove the distance between the two without the Jinshou turning to discover the wandering hostage.
With silent subtle movements, the mercenary took one step after another, moving like the silent tribal elves who lurked deep within the southern forests. His feet patted lightly upon the dusty stone, pushing aside loose soil which had tracked quite far into the complex merely riding beneath the cloth wrapped footwear about the samurai's feet. Soon enough...the Falcon had reached his prey...
Exploding upwards, the rogue wrapped his bound hands around the orange scarfed swordsman, with a tight grip about the rough rope, the mercenary was unable to keep his balance, falling backwards onto the stiff stone with a rather loud thud. Rokairo drew with all his strength, despite the haze that fell over his eyes for the moment of impact, closing the rope so tightly as the Jinshou struggled to get free that he could hear the sound of the warrior's last fight. The wind in his lungs had been trapped, his throat crushed entirely by the strain, and as he drew even tighter upon the bindings, the wind was released once more through a hole opened within the neck by the sudden force of the half elf's arms.
Gasping for air himself, Rokairo was realizing swiftly just to what extent the concussion was taking a toll on his abilities...but I have to move onward.... he thought, rolling out from beneath the fresh warm corpse. Then, crawling through the dirt, his skin scrapping against the hot stone, Cross made his way to the samurai's blade, a key to unlock him from his bindings.
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
◤Awakened by water among the sands...◥
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
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Posted: Tue Jan 29, 2013 7:31 pm
Victor Gadd
* * *
Bounty Hunter Victor shifted uncomfortably as he approached the large wooden gates of the Jinshou Samurai. For the life of him, he just couldn't keep himself still. The bounty hunter wasn't nervous. Oh, heavens no. Victor was itchy. The large cloak he'd snatched from the inattentive merchant was made of some course, scratchy material that made Victor's skin crawl. Well, you get what you pay for I suppose. Stubborn that his plan would work, Victor allowed himself to suffer that short while longer. The shadow of the gates loomed over him as the bounty hunter stepped forth, a large, round object in his hands. He glanced up to see the two sentries looking down at him with skepticism and suspicion. Smirking, Victor held the object in the air in both hands. "I believe this belongs to you." The red symbols painted on the drum were vibrant in the light of the setting desert sun. The two sentries recognized the item, their eyes widening as they realized their good fortune. One of the sentries called down behind the gate to someone on the other side. Victor wasn't fluent in their tongue, but he was still optimistic. The gate gave a large groan as it began to swing open slowly. It stopped just wide enough to let one person through. A Jinshou Samurai stepped into the open. When he was clear, he made a motion with his hand. The large gates began to close. He strode towards the bounty hunter with great confidence. Stopping a few feet from Victor, the samurai offered a smile. He then held out his hands for the drum and said in english, "Thank you." Victor reached forward, placing the drum in the man's hands. When the samurai grabbed it, the drum dropped a few feet in his grip. He hadn't expected it to be nearly this heavy. In his confusion, he looked up at the grinning bounty hunter. "You're welcome." With a grunt of force, Victor kicked the laden samurai in the chest hard. The warrior stumbled back, his back hitting the door. The two sentries were readying their bows. Victor shrugged off the large cloak. The samurai looked down at the drum to see a burning fuse disappear into the drum. The sentries notched an arrow. Victor smiled. Too slow. The drum filled with black powder exploded violently, ripping a hole in the giant wooden door and jarring the two sentries. From his now unconcealed back, Victor pulled off two loaded crossbows. Taking quick aim, he fired both at the same time. The bolts pierced the necks of the shocked sentries. Wasting no time, Victor dropped both crossbows and ran for the hole he'd just made. Alright, there goes the easy part.
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Posted: Thu Jan 31, 2013 8:05 pm
ℭROSS ☪ ℜOKAIRO ❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊ Make your legacy a legend❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
The halls of sand stone appeared as a daze, fading in and out of focus as the warrior stumbled about the interior of the Jinshou Fortress like a drunken fool. Each step he took drew him closer to freedom, or at least he had hoped so, for he knew not the layout of the vast building. The goddess of fortune smiled upon the weary rogue then, illuminating the halls with something other than the dim torch light which had cascaded through the sand coated chambers and all it's roughly textured walls. The blessing came along with it's own misfortunes however, shedding some light onto the throbbing pain which accompanied the vibrant rays.
Beyond Rokairo's vision a pair of samurai approached him, their light armor barely making a sound with all of the orange wrappings that separated their forge and their tones brimming with concern for their fellow.
"Rou no shu anihein?" The man asked, placing a hand upon the Falcon's shoulder only to receive a sluggish jolt of shock from the mercenary, who frantically attempted to regain his posture as he lost balance. He held the exterior of one of their own, dawning the orange scarf and thick jacket of the slain guard just beyond the corridor where they stood, but one could not help but form a paranoia after so many years of combat. "Rou no shu anihein?" The man repeated through the muffling cloth, as the rogue found his balance against the dry walls.
"Sadrir has ordered to learn common tongue, I may only respond to common tongue." The clever rogue replied, speaking as if he knew little of the tongue himself and concocting a simple ploy in the instant that was required of him. Shrugging the man nearest to him spoke the words of the Jinshou to his companion, clearly explaining the situation as the sudden realization lit up within the desert warrior's eyes.
"We only ask if are okay." The samurai attempted, noting that the mercenary had been propping himself up with the support of the nearby wall for some time. "We were concern." He spoke, using a broken form of the language as he did so.
"I am okay, just hurt head." Rokairo responded weakly, though he had mustered enough strength to convince the two of his point, continuing to walk towards the courtyard, where beyond the splintery railings he realized that he stood upon the second floor of the facility. His new boots flopped onto the wooden balcony which overlooked the a crowded courtyard, one filled with women wearing scarcely any clothing. Noting that the man before them appeared to wander on his own without collapsing, much like a child who had taken his first steps however, the two Jinshou returned to their former business, confident in their brother's capability to maintain himself.
As the mercenary managed to fall over towards the crossing of the courtyard, a wooden bridge spanning the short gap between the stone balconies, it suddenly became apparent what the purpose of this place was exactly. The women below were being searched, examined, and taken one by one, placed within a single file line to exit the facility like cattle. It did not take him, even with the brutal damage dealt to his cranium, to behold an epiphany that he stood not twenty feet above the beginning of a massive slave trade, a dark side market that the Jinshou had also exploited since their reign in the city of thieves. Marveling at the extent to which the desert scoundrels were willing to overstep the lost honor they may have once held, Rokairo once more failed to recognize the presence of the very same warriors who'd passed him not moments ago...but his gaze did catch something peculiar.
One of the nearly bare women who'd been readied to ship across Smuggler's Straight carried a glinting blade on her person...and an interesting piece of parchment...
"Distari, distari!" The two samurai he'd met prior to the present moment shouted, capturing the attention of a guard who stood upon the poorly crafted bridge with the Falcon. The mercenary knew not of the word's origin, but from the tone of accusation rising from the depths of the warrior's chest, it certainly wasn't long before he recognized it's intent. Rushing forth despite his wound, the rogue cut the distance between himself and the lone guard in half, likewise creating a vast space between himself and his former comrades, the fools who had not recognized his presence until after they had discovered his vacant cell.
As his charge nearly came to fruition however, the Jinshou before him suddenly let loose a surge of red fog, forging a blade from it's power in an instant. With only a hairs width of space between himself and the deceptively iron like mist, the Falcon took to the air, rotating over the weapon as he performed an acrobatic frontal flip...though he was too slow in his rotation to plant his feet as intended, the concussion taking yet another toll on the otherwise masterful skills of the mercenary. Instead, Rokairo sailed through the air, his body flying over the man wielding his own gauntlet, though with the assistance of a minor change he would not remain unharmed.
Taking a firm grasp of the remaining rope which clenched tightly about his wrist, Rokairo managed to snag the samurai's neck, rolling the drouk over the wooden railing to fall along side the mercenary. With a cloud of dust, the two landed, Cross dropping into a sloppy roll as the dust lifted into the air, women erupting into their cries of horror and discontent, while the unfortunate man who had once stood guard far above the crowd fell upon his head, receiving a similar, though particularly more fatal blow to the head as did the Falcon before him.
"That...would be my gauntlet..." Rokairo mumbled, stumbling over towards the fallen Jinshou to take hold of the golden plated relic.
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
◤Awakened by water among the sands...◥
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
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Posted: Mon Feb 04, 2013 7:46 pm
Reaver was certain he was lost, all he could see through the thronging crowd were glimpses of buildings and more people. He thought that he might never find his way out of this dreaded port city, when he heard the sound of gulls. The raucous squawking was loud enough to pierce the sound of daily life in Thieves Haven, which mostly consisted of swearing, threats, and the deal at the nearest market stall. Reaver shielded his eyes with his hand as he looked for the flock of gulls. After looking for a few minutes, he saw a mass of white swirling around a sea of blue. Reaver was glad to finally find his destination, but that small speck of joy was short lived. "Hey, it's that guy who was with that knoxing demon. GET HIM!" Reaver turned to see a familiar group of faces, the thugs who had tried robbing him, Kat and Priscilla earlier. Reaver turned and sprinted towards the docks, looking for the first ship that was leaving for the grand port. He was only barely ahead of the thugs when he heard a captain yelling a final call to board. Reaver started to sprint, but had lost his footing in a large patch of sand. Several curses ran through his head as he stumbled forward, and crashed into a nearby stall. The thugs rushed towards Reaver as he scrambled to his feet and tipped over a barrel of spirits. The thugs faltered for a moment since the density of the spirit-logged sand was different than normal. Reaver took this opportunity to close the distance between him and the boat. The captain looked at him as he raised his hand so as to say wait, and then noticed the men chasing him. He decided to cut his losses, and pulled the gangplank to the deck of the ship, and ordered the crew to shove off. Reaver noticed this, and sprinted after them, and when he reached the edge of the dock, he jumped, and missed the deck. He reached out to try to stop his fall and managed to catch some of the hull rigging. He clambered his way up towards the deck, when a knife embedded itself in the ship right next to him. When he finally made it up to the deck, he sat down and caught his breath, when the captain walked over and greeted the young man with his cutlass drawn. "We don't take kindly to stowaways." stated the gruff captain. Reaver stood up and looked the captain in the eye, and asked him "How much would it cost to hitch a ride to the grand port?" The captain looked at him, and stated "You'll need at least fifteen bits to be able to pay for the cost of travel. Yet I think it may charge more for your., unexpected entrance." Reaver reached in his bag and grabbed the pile of twenty coins, "This should cover it then." said Reaver as he handed the captain his money. The captain took the coins, and bit one of them to test their authenticity, he took a long hard look at Reaver, and offered his hand. "Welcome aboard the Stormfeller." (EXIT)
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Posted: Sat Feb 09, 2013 10:46 pm
ℭROSS ☪ ℜOKAIRO ❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊ Make your legacy a legend❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
As the mercenary dawned the golden plated gauntlet, it's many segments colliding to create small irritable sounds, he began to stumble once more, even as the Jinshou began to fire arrows down towards him among the crowd of slaves.
Many of the women who had not been clad in the iron shackles attempted to flee, clinging to the walls as if to climb out from their prison towards the freedom beyond. Others were not so lucky however, as the iron tipped projectiles cut into their skin digging deep as the bolts sent waves of fire through their nerves. As the warrior stumbled however, a soft hand reached out to him, catching him by the chest to pull him back beneath the shade of the overhanging bridge.
"What are you doing here?" A familiar voice scolded Rokairo, though he couldn't quite make out her features through the haze. "I thought you were out in the streets looking for some new vessel to hire." She spat, obviously hurt by the assumed actions. Though he currently wore the orange cloth about his head, it came to no surprise that the woman before him knew who he was, after all she had seen him with his face concealed for the majority of the trip.
"Aria?" He mumbled, holstering his head as he leaned against a nearby post. "What...are you...doin here?" The mercenary managed to get through, though just barely.
"You abandoned me out there, and the Jinshou took me in to make me a slave. You're lucky I managed to get the map back after they took it off of me." She hissed, yanking hard upon the thick jacket, before guiding him through the courtyard towards a building where a pair of guards stood. From what the Falcon could make out, the appearance of a glimmering dagger twirled through the air, sinking into the breast of the desert warrior before he could draw his blade. From there the rogue himself drew a samurai's weapon, unsheathing the iron sword to introduce it's point to the throat of the wind warrior....he struck the drouk's lung...but to him it was just as good.
"What do you mean....get the map back? I chased first a thief, and then a bounty hunter all through the city just to get the map back. Did you catch the bounty hunter?" He asked, his sentences momentarily flowing normally. Aria gave him a sly smile then, as she dug her hand through the clothing of the fallen Jinshou, removing her throwing blade from his ribs.
"You might have been fool enough to leave something so valuable in a gold case in thieves haven, but I'm not making the treasure so easy to spot." Aria explained, patting the roughly textured parchment hanging from the small skirt. "We need to get out of here...and we need a boat." She continued, handing Rokairo another of the Jinshou's swords as she took one for herself.
"And a healer if fortune smiles upon me once more." The Falcon added, placing a palm upon a stone wall nearby in order to keep from toppling. It appeared as if the constant strenuous movement was taxing him in such a condition. Alhandre simply gazed at him with a clever expression before making her impudent comment.
"Suck it up, you look fine to me." She laughed, as the stepped into another open courtyard of the complex. This one seemed different however, appearing be placed under construction with several ropes and a weighted pulley sitting in the middle. The pulley system held a large stone suspended, lifted by several men using levers before the rope end was attached to the item that they had wanted to lift. From there one only had to release the levers in order to drop the stone and lift the object to the desired height. It appeared to be now waiting to lift it's next piece towards the roof near to a familiar cliff...one the Falcon had descended in his prior pursuit.
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
◤Awakened by water among the sands...◥
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
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Posted: Mon Feb 11, 2013 7:28 pm
Victor Gadd
* * *
Bounty Hunter Victor was having quite a bit of fun. He'd armed himself with many throwing daggers, some smoke bombs, and his trusty sword. Victor was dashing through their fortified sanctuary, slashing samurai asside with swift and eager practice. The bounty hunter was looking for the prison, but instead found the next best thing: the armory. The doorway to the armory was large with enormous reinforced doors. Two guards with axes stood before the entrance, tensing as Victor came arround the corner, the sounds of battle echoing behind him. "Hello, fellas. Mind if I peak arround?" The guards charged, axes pointed towards the new assailant. With a flick of his wrist, Victor unleashed a bright flash of light. Both guards stumbled. Stepping to the left, Victor grabbed the ax out of the hands of the first guard, swinging it into the back of the second one's head as they passed. He threw a dagger to finish off the second one. Victor didn't bother with the giant door. Instead, he smashed a window to the side. Slight security oversight. He grabbed a few explosives and a few throwing blades and left to find his target... Only to be stopped by a figure in the distance.
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Posted: Fri Feb 15, 2013 5:52 pm
Victor Gadd
* * *
Bounty Hunter Victor tilted his head to the side, taken a bit by surprise. He couldn't quite decipher what he was seeing. He'd fought Dengen users. He'd fought summoners. This one, however, this was new. The man standing in the distance was raising his palm towards Victor, his other hand clasping a silver bracelet on his wrist. Several beings emanated from the silver relic, taking the form of armored soldiers. The beings were a translucent shimmer, appearing to be a solid mirage. He was still befuddled when the silver beings charged forward, raising shimmering blades to strike. Victor moved to block instinctively. The hardened bounty hunter nearly buckled under the force of the blow, his sword clanging loudly against what he'd hoped to be an illusion. A very solid mirage. Recovering, Victor rolled to the side, dodging past the other three ghostly soldiers. Rolling a second time, Victor stood behind one of the rather slow summonings. He swung at the creature's knee, hoping to wound the strong apparition. His sword repeated its loud clang as it deflected off the solid milky surface. Energy beings... Sort of. What are these things? He turned to the sound of laughter behind him. The caster had a look of focus on his face, but he managed to mock the bounty hunter's struggle against the formidable technique. "You'll need something a bit more powerful than your crude sword." Victor rolled backward to dodge another swipe from the silver soldier. Leaping forward again, Victor swung at it's midsection. His Duster clanged uselessly against the white form, sending reverberations up his arm. These things can't be destroyed. He looked back again to see the Jinshou still pointing his palm towards the battle. But it looks like they can be controlled. Leaping backward, Victor let loose one of the explosives he'd taken from the armory. The large egg shaped device impacted with the being's chest, erupting in flame and shrapnel. The being was knocked back a considerable amount. Perfect. They're not vulnerable, but they are movable. He began to work his way around the four soldiers before running towards the caster himself. The Jinshou's eyes widened at Victor's approach. Making a pulling motion with his hand, one of the silver soldiers seemed to evaporate, a shimmering mist rushing back towards the bracelet. It entered the bracelet and vanished. Soon after, the caster summoned from the bracelet a sliver sword he wielded in the same hand. He raised his arm to block, but was too slow. Victor was aiming to end the battle fast. Letting loose a close range flash, he flicked his blade under his enemy's and through the Jinshou's arm. The limb fell to the ground, its owner screaming in shock and agony. The silver apparitions vanished. Victor looked down at the silver bracelet, ignoring the struggling samurai. That looks useful. He bent down, working the relic off the wrist of the limb. He slipped it in his pocket before putting the warrior out of his misery and continued his search for the real treasure.
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Posted: Sun Feb 24, 2013 5:38 pm
Victor Gadd
* * *
Bounty Hunter I thought this was a fortress, not a knoxing maze. Victor was becoming aggravated. Where on earth were the holding cells? How was he meant to get to the bottom of this warped conspiracy when his last lead was bound to be executed? He kicked open yet another door, ready to take out any Jinshou on the other side, waiting for an intruder to- The room was quiet. Though, it wasn't unoccupied. Well, sort of. It depends what you might consider "occupied." Several dead Jinshou littered the floor. Have I been here already?.... No. No, this is someone else's handiwork. The samurai were killed with precision and stealth. Not beyond Victor's capacity, but this recent venture had been composed of mostly brute force and not as many neck wounds. Where am I, anyway? There were lamps all around the wide walls, casting a shimmer across the many tabletops and blood spattered walls. Looks like a study of some kind. He sauntered through the silent room, his boot steps echoing eerily. Letting his eyes wander, he saw a particular blood spatter across a giant map on the wall. And something stuck. He went over to the scene. It was a quill. The man seemed to have stabbed it into the parchment just before he died. Stepping back, victor nearly tripped over the leg of a second body. This one had been at his desk like a dutiful scribe. Victor looked down at the desk. It was another map. It seemed to be half done. There were hardly any cities labeled. In fact, one seemed half labeled. Wait a minute... He didn't recognize any of the locations. They weren't cities. They were historical sites, lost to civilization. The one that was half labeled... it seemed the scribe was taking his time. Victor looked up again at the embedded quill. Same spot. The scribes must have confiscated the map and tried to copy it. The carnage was probably a retrieval attempt. Victor chuckled to himself. Guess I won't need to go bird hunting after all.
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Posted: Mon Mar 11, 2013 3:34 am
Victor Gadd
* * *
Bounty Hunter The Samurai were beginning to regroup. They were pulling back, grouping together the forces they had left in the main courtyard. Damn. And I was having so much fun. The bounty hunter was confident in his own skill, but if the samurai decided to actually organize themselves, he couldn't garuntee he'd get away without a scratch. Time I made my exit. Moving stealthily from building to building, checking his corners and listening for hurried footsteps, Victor began to make his way to the outer wall. Convinced they were under a full fledged attack, the samurai were doing more fortifiying than manhunting. None that rushed by so much as glanced in his direction, determined to regroup and defend their base. After running alongst the bottom of the wall for a moment, Victor came across a ladder to the top of the wall. Well, better than the front door. He began to climb the wooden wrungs, careful not to make too much noise. The wall was high. He was nearly to the top when he looked around. The Samurai were all but grouped together now apart from a few who were guarding the prisoners... wait... One of the female prisoners was separating from the group... with a masked male. Well, well, well... Maybe I shouldn't leave just yet. Just then, a guard looked up to see Victor high on the ladder. He raised his crossbow towards him. Victor kicked out, pushing himself and the ladder backwards. The arrow pinged off the stone structure where he'd been and he and the ladder swayed back, falling towards the roof of one of the bunk houses. Victor jumped from the ladder, sliding down the slant of the other side of the roof. Jumping off, he rolled and began running. The road was clear so he was upon the courtyard in no time. There are two of them now, but they appear worn down. Still, never hurt to take a precaution. Victor reached into his bag and pulled out the last explosive he'd taken from the armory. This should distract him enough. He lit the explosive. "Cross!" He threw it at the rogue with one hand and drew his sword with the other, rushing forward. Round two. Let's see what you're made of, Falcon.
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Posted: Fri Mar 22, 2013 8:07 pm
ℭROSS ☪ ℜOKAIRO ❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊ Make your legacy a legend❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
"Cross" the bounty hunter roared with enthusiasm, stealing the attention of the weary mercenary by the call the name for which he was so well known. Glaring through the haze, the Falcon's eyes rushed towards the direction of the sudden outburst, which rang through his ears to fill his head with grueling pains. Everything seemed to be moving so fast now, and by the time he managed to face towards the call Rokairo witnessed a small object hurling itself through the air towards him, though he could not entirely determine the origin of the item.
"As if the Knoxing Jinshou weren't enough!" The rogue spat through his dry parched lips, cursing his misfortune as the blurry fog over his eyes dissipated for the moment, allowing him to discern the latest events of his adventure. Suddenly, the rogue allowed a jet of red fog to erupt from the gauntlet, using what little dengen he could manage to send a clawed hand forwards to take hold of the projectile that would no longer sail through the air towards him. With the iron like grip of the dengen's force, the Falcon was able to muffle the outburst of the small explosive, but the repercussions remained present, knocking the stumbling bafoon to the ground where he would lay momentarily.
"Ro!" Aria shouted, the many trinkets of her clothing creating small metallic clatter as she turned her slender body in the fallen warrior's direction. With the sudden flick of her nimble wrists, the former captain let loose a trio of throwing blades, each duel sided with thin deadly edges, fluttering through the air towards the bounty hunter, fluttering....towards his throat.
Ro? A new nickname?.... Is that the best she could think of? Cross began to wonder despite his current and rather dire situation, disoriented by the affects of his concussion more so than the affects of battle. Soon the dark haired woman with her sharp blue eyes was standing over him, and took a knee beside the drouk to prod him awake. I can't fight like this...not against a perfect advisary...who's still in perfect health. The thoughts continued, as the warrior rolled over onto his back, the thick jacket of the samurai allowing even the rough smoldering sandstone to feel as comfortable as a nice fluffy bed. Upon his back however, he realized suddenly yet another method for survival...the falcon with it's broken wing would live to fly free another day....
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
◤Stricken by ailment, the mercenary must move on◥
❊≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎❊
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Posted: Wed Mar 27, 2013 3:57 pm
Victor Gadd
* * *
Bounty Hunter The red fog from before was beckoned again by the ever cunning rogue. It formed a claw and swallowed the explosive in its grip, hardley rippling when it errupted in its grip. The blast still knocked his target to the ground. Not dead, but defenseless. Same difference. Ready to have the Falcon out of his way, the bounty hunter quickened his pace. He abruptly tensed when his adversary's partner moved sharply, sending projectiles his way with deadly precision. They were all headed for his throat. He jerked his chin downward, tilting his head forward so that the blades ricocheted off of his battle worn helmet. Close. That lady is a dangerous one. The loud clang inside his metal head gear was enough to disorient him. He stopped in his tracks and stumbled. Get up, foolish drouk! he urged himself. Can't leave myself open. Lifting his gaze, he kept his eyes locked on the girl. He raised his sword in a defensive stance and aproached at a slower pace, cautious of this new unknown enemy. His eyes briefly flitted to the Falcon on his back, protected by his aquaintance. The fates do favor this one. No matter.
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